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.    1 

114.  fiemy  YII-.      ...       10 

115.  Edward  Plantafenet,     .       .    17 

116.  Edmund  Dndlej,       .       •        18 

117.  Henry  VIII.,        .  .    20 

118.  Cardinal  Wolsej,       .       •       31 

119.  AnneBoleyn,       •       .       •    89 
130.  Sir  Thomas  Moore,  .  44 

121.  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Eswz,      .    51 

122.  Stafford,  Doke  of  Bockingbam,  55 

123.  Seymour,  Dnke  of  Somerset  •    56 

124.  Thomas,  Lord  Sejisocir,     •       59 

125.  Edward  VL,         ...    62 

126.  Dudley,  D.  of  Northumberland,  63 

127.  Lady  Jane  Grey,   •       .       .64 

128.  Mary  L,     ....        68 

129.  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  the  younger,  71 

130.  RusaeU,  Earl  of  Bedford,  .       72 
131^  Sir  Thomas  Pope,         .        •    74 

132.  Cardinal  Pole,  ...       75 

133.  Elifiibeth,      ....    78 

134.  Sir  Thomas  Chaloner,  90 

135.  Lady  Catherine  Grey,    .       .    91 

136.  Heiliert,  Earl  of  Pembroke,      93 

137.  Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  .       .    94 

138.  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  .       •       96 

139.  Sir  Thomas  Gresham,    .        .    97 

140.  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton,     100 

141.  Thomas,  Duke  of  Norfolk,       102 

142.  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester,       105 

143.  Itir  Humphn^  Gilbert,        .    109 

144.  Sir  Frauds  Walsingham,  112 

145.  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,       •    115 

146.  Sir  John  Perroi,       .        .        117 

147.  Sir  John  Hawkins,       .        .    118 

148.  Sir  Firands  Drake,   .        .        120 

149.  Cecil,  Lord  Burleigh,  .        .    123 

160.  Dererenz,  Earl  of  Esmz,         12t» 

151.  Clifford,  Earl  of  Cumberiand,  137 

152.  Vera,  Earl  of  Oxford,      .       140 
163.  Sir  Edmund  Anderson,       .    141 

154.  Blount,  Earl  of  Devonshire,     J  41 

155.  Sr  FVancis  De  Vere,  .       .    143 


156.  Cardinal  Bourchier,  . 

157.  Archbishop  Morton,     . 

158.  Bishop  Alcock, 

159.  Fox,  Bishop  of  Durham, 

160.  Archbishop  Warfaam, 

161.  John  Frith,  . 

162.  Elisabeth  Barton,     . 
168.  Ttishop  Iflsher, 

164.  William  Tyndale,      • 

165.  John  Bradford,    . 

166.  Hugh  Latimer, 

167.  Bishop  Ridley,     • 

168.  Bishop  Hooper, 

169.  Archbishop  Cranmer,  . 

170.  Bishop  Gardiner,      • 

171.  Bishop  Tunstall,  • 

172.  John  l>«Je,       .       , 

173.  MUes  Coverdale, 
174  Bishop  Bonner, 

175.  Bishop  Jewel, 

176.  Archbishop  Pariter, 

177.  Richard  Ca, 

178.  Bernard  Gii  *n, 

179.  Archbishop  Grindal,    . 

180.  John  FcoL, 

181.  Cardinal  Allen,   . 

182.  Bishop  Aylmer, 

183.  Archbishop  Whitgift,  . 

184.  Richard  Hooker,     . 

185.  Dean  Nowell, 

186.  Thomas  Cartwright, 



































187.  William  Gnjcjn,  .        .  236 

188.  John  Colet,      ...  227 

189.  William  LUy,       ...  229 

190.  Thomas  Linacre,      .        .  229 

191.  John  Skelton,       .        .        .232 

192.  Bourchier,  Lord  Bernen,  233 

193.  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  the  Elder,  234 

194.  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,  .  236 

195.  John  Leland,        .        .        .241 

196.  Sir  John  Cheke,       .        .  242 

197.  Sebastian  Cabot,  .        .        .244 

198.  Thomas,  Lord  Vaux,        .  247 

199.  John  Hey  wood,    ...  248 

200.  Roger  Ascham,        .        .  251 

201.  Walter  Haddon,    •  255 

202.  John  Caius,  256 

203.  flapliael  Holinsiiea  2oQ 
•^4.   Sir  PhUip  Sidnc./  260 

205.  lliomas  Cave  disa,      .  265 

206.  Christopher  Marlowe,       .  tti7 

207.  Spenser,  ....  270 
206.  Reginald  Scott,  .  .  277 
209.  Thomas,  Lord  Sackville,  .  278 
2i0.  John  Dee,         .        .        .  281 


HiBTOAiCAL  Introduction,  287 


211.  James  I.,  .        .        .  330 

212.  Robert  Catesby,  .  .  339 
V13.   Sir  Everard  Digby,           .  341 

214.  Cecil,  Earl  oi  Salisbury,      .  343 

215.  Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  .  347 

216.  John,  Lord  Harrington,       .  350 


217.  Sir  Thomas  Overbury,      .        351 

218.  Egerton,  Lord  EUesmerc,  .     853 

219.  Sir  Ralph  Winwood,     .        .    355 

220.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  .        356 

221.  Brook,  Lord  Cobham,  .        .    363 
222    Sir  John  Davies,       .        .         365 

223.  Foulk,  Lord  Brooke,    .        .     366 

224.  VUliers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  368 

225.  Charies  L,         ...        374 

226.  Sir  Dudley  Carleton,    .        .     383 

227.  Sir  John  Eliot,         .        .        385 

228.  Sir  Edward  Coke,        .        .    887 

229.  William  Noy,   .        .        .         391 

230.  Sff  Henry  Wotton,    .        .        893 

231.  Thomas,  Earl  of  Strafford,        395 

232.  Robert,  Lord  Willoughby,         402 

233.  John  Hampden,   .   •    .        .402 

234.  John  Pym,        .        .        .        410 

235.  Cary,  Viscount  Falkland,    .    41  i 

236.  Spencer,  Earl  of  Sunderland,   417 

237.  George,  Lord  Goring, .        .     418 

238.  Edward,  Lord  Herbert,    .        419 

239.  James,  Earl  of  Derby,  .    421 

240.  Hent7  Ireton,   ...         424 

241.  Digby,  Earl  of  Bristol,         .     42P 

242.  Admiral  Blake,        .        .         427 

243.  John  IJlburne,     .        .        .432 

244.  Oliver  Cromwell,      .        .         437 

245.  John  Bradshaw,   .        .  448 
24G.  Su'  Henry  Vane,  the  Younger,  450 

247.  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe,         .     455 

248.  Bertie,  Eari  of  Lindsey,    ,        456 

249.  William  Prynne    .        .         .457 

250.  lliomas.  Lord  Fairfax,      .        464 

251.  Monk,  Duke  of  Albemarle  .     468 

252.  Montagu,  Earl  of  Sandwich^    471 




TenDination  of  the  struggle  betwixt  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster— -Poreign 
relations  of  England— Commercial  spirit  of  the  times— State  of  the  ooontry-^The 
Reformation — lu  origin — Progress  under  Henry  Vlll— Under  Edward  VL-~Re- 
ligious  struggles  of  Mary's  reign — General  view  of  £liiab6th*s  reign— Of  English 

Thb  year  1485  is  remarkable  in  the  history  of  England,  as  that  in 
which  the  war  betwixt  the  rival  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster  was  ter- 
minated by  the  battle  of  Bosworth,  and  the  earl  of  Richmond  wafi 
seated  as  Henry  VII.  on  the  English  throne.  His  accession,  founded 
on  a  very  disputable  claim,  was  followed  by  attempts  against  his  govern- 
ment from  among  the  opposite  party  in  the  state,  but  his  power  and 
influence  survived.  By  his  marriage  with  a  princess  of  the  rival  fiunily 
of  York,  his  son  and  successor  Henry  VIII.  could  advance  a  stronger 
hereditary  claim;  and  under  the  latter  monarch,  and  his  three  children* 
Edward,  Mary,  and  Elizabeth — all  of  them,  in  course,  his  successors  on 
the  throne — there  occurred  in  England  some  of  the  most  remarkable 
transactions  which  its  history  records.  So  prominently,  however,  did 
almost  all  the  reigning  monarchs  of  this  period  act  in  the  public  mat- 
ters that  pertain  to  it,  that  these  transactions  are,  to  a  great  degree, 
involved  in  our  sketches  of  the  sovereigns  themselves,  and  in  this  intro- 
ductory sketch  we  shall  only  glance  at  certain  prominent  features  in 
this  memorable  period  of  English  history. 

England  was  wont  to  stand  in  a  side  or  central  relation,  as  it  were, 
to  the  contending  interests  and  discordant  politics  of  the  great  conti- 
nental powers;  and  in  the  period  under  review  we  find  its  arms  directed, 
now  against  France,  and  anon  against  Spain,  that  country's  formidable 
enemy.  War  with  France  was  declared  early  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
YIL,  and  in  1522,  hostilities  against  that  country  were  renewed  by  his  son 
and  successor  Henry  VIII.  which,  at  intervals,  were  continued  afterwards. 
But  the  wars  with  Spain  during  this  eventful  period  present  a  more  impos- 
ing and  memorable  scene.  It  is  not  until  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  however, 
that  they  assume  such  peculiar  interest,  as  of  vast  religious  and  national 
importance.     In  that  reign,  Philip  II.  and  the  English  queen — separated 

II.  A 


by  character  and  religion — carried  on  a  course  of  mutual  hostility,  in 
the  progress  of  which,  English  influence  was  established  in  the  revolted 
provinces  of  the  Low  countries,  and  English  glory  was  swelled  by  the 
defeat  of  the  boasted  '  Invincible  Armada.'  These  circumstances  may 
serve  to  explain  the  extent  to  which  military  and  naval  distinctions 
adorn  the  names  of  English  nobles  and  English  commoners  in  this 
period  of  British  history.  It  may  be  added,  that  Scotland  and  Ireland 
were  also  the  scenes  of  English  warfare  in  the  course  of  these  busy 
times.  In  Elizabeth's  reign,  in  particular,  the  wish  to  gratify  a  queen 
who  set  her  heart  on  the  success  of  naval  and  military  enterprise- — ^the 
sense  of  actual  danger  to  the  independence  and  religion  of  the  country, 
fix)m  the  bigotry  and  energy  of  Spain, — the  hopes  inspired  by  pros- 
perous efforts, — and  the  honour  of  engaging  in  the  bold  aad  enterprising 
adventures  of  the  time,  are  motives  which  may  all  have  tended  to  ren- 
der the  court  of  Elizabeth  so  chivalrous  a  scene,  and  her  reign  so  re- 
markable a  period  in  the  naval  and  military  annals  of  the  land. 

But  even  in  the  15th  century,  the  foreign  enterprise  of  England, 
corresponding  to  the  parallel  cases  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  assumes  the 
aspect  rather  of  geographical  discovery  or  commercial  enterprise  than 
of  political  hostility.  The  laws  respecting  trade,  indeed,  which  were 
passed  during  this  period,  partook  of  that  restrictive  character  to  which, 
in  later  times,  political  economists  have  furnished  formidable  objections  ; 
but  the  commercial  spirit  was  abroad,  and  to  this  period  belong  some 
memorable  facts  in  the  history  of  our  mercantile  and  maritime  affairs. 
It  was  in  1487,  that  the  cape  of  Good  Hope  was  discovered  by  Bar- 
tholomew Diaz,  and  in  1492,  that  America  was  first  explored  by  Chris- 
topher Columbus.  Following  in  the  train  of  these  great  events  was  a 
voyage  of  discovery  which  the  English  navigator  Sebastian  Cabot, 
undertook  in  1495,  by  letters  patent  from  Henry  VII.  who,  by  the 
erection  of  the  celebrated  ship,  the  Great  Harry,  may  be  said,  accord- 
ing to  Mr  Hume,  to  have  begun  the  English  navy.  This  is  not  the 
place  for  a  minute  detail  of  the  discoveries  of  Cabot,  or  the  voyages  of 
Drake,  or  other  remarkable  incidents  in  the  naval  or  commercial  his- 
tory of  England :  but  as  symptomatic  of  the  times,  and  as  presenting 
important  points  in  that  history,  it  may  here  be  noticed,  that  in  the 
brilliant  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth — ^the  last  in  the  period  under  review — 
we  find  established  a  trade  with  Muscovy  and  Turkey, — ^the  Royal  Ex- 
change was  built, — ^interest  was  legalized, — a  charter  was  granted  to  the 
East  India  company, — and,  in  the  year  1582,  there  were  upwards  of 
12,000  English  ships,  of  which,  however,  only  217  were  of  more  than 
80  tons  burden. 

The  well  known  energy  of  the  Tudor  princes,  acting  on  the  acknow- 
ledged powers  and  prerogatives  of  the  English  sovereign,  renders  the 
period  of  their  successive  reigns  a  scene  of  monarchical  authority  an  d 
parliamentary  submission  somewhat  revolting  perhaps  to  the  modern 
freeman.  But  in  the  parliaments — at  least  of  the  two  female  sovereigns 
of  the  line — ^tnere  are  discerned  the  risings  of  the  sentiments  and  energy 
which  produced  such  mighty  changes  in  succeeding  reigns.  This 
period,  however,  has  been  remarked  for  the  comparative  order  and 
quiet  established  in  the  country.  **  In  the  disorderly  state  of  "England 
under  the  Plantagenets,  who  governed  it  from  about  the  middle  of  the 



12th  till  towards  the  end  of  the  15th  oentaiy,"  says  Dr.  Adam  Smith,^ 
^  one  district  might  be  in  plenty,  while  another,  at  no  great  distance,  by 
having  its  crop  destroyed,  either  by  some  accident  of  the  seasons,  or  by 
the  incarsion  of  some  neighbouring  baron,  might  be  suffering  all  the 
horrors  of  a  £ftmine;  and  yet  if  the  lands  of  some  hostile  lord  were  in- 
teiposed  between  them,  the  one  might  not  be  able  to  give  the  least  as* 
aistance  to  the  other.  Under  the  vigorous  administration  of  the  Tudors, 
who  governed  England  daring  the  latter  part  of  the  15th,  and  through 
the  whole  of  the  16th  century,  no  baron  was  powerful  enough  to  dis- 
turb the  public  security/' 

But  among  the  various  dianges  in  the  condition  of  Enghmd  belonging 
to  this  period,  assuredly  none  is  more  memorable  than  the  reformation 
of  the  church.  It  has  been  often  observed,  that  the  Reformation  was  not 
in  England  the  result  of  wise  deliberations,  or  the  natural  £rait  of  popu- 
lar improvement.  In  this  remark  there  is  truth  on  the  sur&ce,  but 
error  in  the  centre  and  the  application.  Few  important  revolutions 
have  been  brought  about  by  the  direct  influence  of  reason.  In  tbe  in- 
stances in  which  such  attempts  have  been  made,  they  have  usually  failed, 
or  led  to  very  inadequate  results,  the  speculations  of  the  wisest  men 
being  a  far  too  uncertain  substratum  for  the  movements  of  the  multitude. 
When  closely  looked  at,  moreover,  the  above  observation  will  lose 
much  of  its  force  as  ui  historical  dogma.  It  will  be  recollected,  that  if 
Henry  the  Eighth  w^as  the  prime  mover  of  the  Reformation  in  this  coun- 
tty,  and  began  his  measures  from  motives  rather  personal  than  public, 
the  same  has  been  the  case  with  reformers  of  much  higher  and  purer 
characters,  and  that  some  of  the  grandest  and  most  useful  changes  ever 
produced  in  the  world  have  owed  their  beginning  to  circumstances  as 
uulike  the  result  as  the  dod  is  to  the  richly-scented  plant  which  it 
nourishes.  The  careful  observer,  however,  can  hardly  £iil  to  discover  a 
much  stronger  connexion  between  the  reformation  of  religion  in  Eng- 
land and  the  state  of  the  community,  than  is  sometimes  supposed  to 
have  been  the  case.  He  will  see  that  there  had  long  been  a  tendency 
in  the  church  itself  to  break  the  bonds  in  which  the  Roman  pontiff  de- 
sired to  hold  it;  and  he  will  perceive,  moreover,  that  this  tendency  of 
the  church  to  liberate  itself  was  working  with  the  slow  motion  of  an 
hour-hand,  while  the  opinion  of  the  people  was  urging  on  to  the  same 
point  with  the  celerity  of  a  minute-hand.  It  was  next  to  impossible,  in 
fact,  that  a  community  should  be  incessantly  bent  on  resisting  the  im- 
position of  taxes,  and  saving  their  money  by  every  feasible  plan  of  eco- 
nomy, and  not  look  with  a  suspicious  eye  on  the  enormous  revenue  of 
the  clergy.  Still  more  unlikely  is  it  that  they  should  have  been  advanc- 
ing in  intelligence, — ^have  begun  to  form  correct  notions  of  law  and 
right  policy,  and  corrected  many  of  their  views  on  practical  subjects, 
without  discovering  that  they  were  burdened  by  the  priesthood  with 
practices  which  had  no  connexion  with  the  pure  religion  of  the  gospel. 
These  were  the  preventing  causes  of  the  Reformation  in  England,  so  far 
as  mere  human  and  temporary  circumstances  can  be  considered  in  that 
light,  and  to  examine  and  watch  their  action,  combined  as  they  soon 
were  with  causes  of  a  different  and  more  spiritual  nature,  is  an  employ- 

I  Wealth  of  Nations,  Book  I.  chap.  xi. 

inent  worthy  of  the  highest  order  of  intellects.  From  the  reign  ol 
Henry  the  Eighth,  men  of  erery  species  of  talent,  and  of  every  class  of 
character,  found  themselves  invested  wiUi  new  importance, -^-excited  to 
action  by  new  impulses  both  from  within  and  without,— and  called  upon 
tu  perform  duties  which,  if  not  themselves  new,  had  a  novel  and  wider 
range  of  influence.  The  great  conflict  of  the  reforming  division  of  the 
clergy  with  those  who  yet  supported  the  Roman  doctrines  and  discipline, 
called  into  play  every  particle  of  knowledge  and  ability  which  either 
party  possessed.  Many  displays,  therefore,  of  extraordinary  talent  may 
be  looked  for  in  this  period  without  disappointment  Scholarship  not 
only  rose  in  value  among  scholars,  but  became  a  commodity  of  intelligi- 
ble, palpable  worth  with  the  multitude :  it  was  recognised  as  the  powei 
by  which  the  highest  interests  were  to  be  settled,  and  those  who  possessed 
it  were  at  once  raised  to  the  most  conspicuous  stations  in  the  community. 
The  love  of  gaiety,  the  courtly  luxury  and  splendour,  which  at  the  same 
time  distinguished  the  age,  called  forth  many  a  sparkling  wit,  and  nour- 
ished the  in&nt  arts  into  partial  maturity.  Nor  was  either  war,  or 
political  business  wanting  for  the  employment  of  talents  of  another  de- 
scription ;  so  that  this  era  furnishes  the  biographer  with  a  fruitful  field  of 
inquiry,  and  both  in  a  literary,  and  purely  historical  sense,  is  deserving 
of  the  most  careful  study. 

The  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  was  too  short  to  realize  the  expecta- 
tions which  had  been  formed  respecting  the  effect  of  his  auspices  on 
science,  the  reformed  religion,  and  whatever  pertained  to  the  public 
prosperity.     But  brief  as  it  was,  it  sei*ved  to  strengthen  the  operation 
of  the  good  principles  which  had  begun  to  work  in  the  days  of  his 
father.     The  reformed  doctrines,  as  they  became  better  understood,  were 
more  cleariy  expounded  and  more  zealously  defended.     The  piety  of  the 
young  king  invited  men  of  virtue  and  integrity  to  the  court,  and  placed 
them  in  the  highest  offices  of  trust.     His  own  attachment  to  learning, 
like  that  of  his  father,  contributed  greatly  to  its  more  general  and  ardent 
cultivation.     In  his  boyhood  even,  he  was  accustomed  to  write  to  his 
sisters,  the  princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  in  Latin.     He  was,  however, 
at  all  times  ready  to  enter  upon  the  discussion  of  questions,  not  only  of 
the  most  difficult  nature,  but  of  such  as  only  a  prince,  surrounded  by 
the  most  honest  instructors  and  councillors,  would  have  ventured  to  ap- 
proach.    The  account  given  of  his  conversation  with  the  celebrated 
astronomer  Cardan,  has  been  rightly  quoted  as  a  proof  of  the  exceeding 
ingenuity  and  acuteness  of  his  mind.     "  He  asked  me,**  says  the  philoso- 
pher, «  what  was  the  subject  of  my  book  De  Rerum  varietcUe^  which  I 
had  dedicated  to  him."     "  I  said,  in  the  first  chapter  I  show  the  cause  of 
comets,  which  has  been  so  long  sought  for  in  vain."  ^^ «  What  is  it  ?"    "  It 
is  the  concourse  of  the  light  of  the  wandering  stars."     But  the  king  said^ 
"  as  the  stars  move  in  such  different  motions,  this  concourse  must  be 
dissipated  or  moved  by  their  movement."     Cardan  replied,  "  it  moves 
aaer  them,  and  with  more  celerity,  as  a  rainbow  from  glass,  or  as  the 
sun  shines  on  a  wall."     «  How  can  that  be  ?"  rejoined  the  young  king, 
"  there  is  nothing  like  a  wall  in  the  sky  to  receive  this  light"     Cardan, 
it  is  added,  thought  he  answered  this  defeating  remark  by  comparing  his 
concourse  with  the  milky  way,  or  the  lucid  middle  space  between  manv 
lighted  candles.     Convinced  however  of  Edward  s  abilitv,  who  was  then 


only  in  his  fifi;eenth  year,  he  wannlj  praises  his  aooompliahments,  and 
remarks  that  he  ^^  spoke  Latin  not  less  polite  et  proni§)te  than  himself."^ 
Under  the  patronage  of  snch  a  prince,  it  is  not  surprising  to  And  the 
uniyersities  becoming  in  the  true  sense  of  the  expression,  ^*  seminaries  of 
sound  learning  and  religious  education."  The  nation,  however,  was 
still  in  a  sufficiently  agitated  state  with  regard  to  religion,  to  call  for  the 
most  energetic  exertion  on  the  part  of  the  reformers,  both  priests  and 
statesmen.  Such  was  the  irritation  which  prevailed  among  the  teachers 
of  the  gospel  at  this  time,  that  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  interdict  their 
exercise  of  private  judgment  as  to  what  they  should  say  in  the  per- 
formance of  their  public  duties.  This  singular  ordinance  is  said  to  have 
been  framed,  because  that  certain  of  the  licensed  preachers  had  *<  behaved 
themselves  irreverently,  and  without  good  order  in  their  preachings,** 
and  that  therefore,  "  all  manner  of  persons,  whosoever  they  be,  are  in- 
hibited to  preach  in  open  audience  in  the  pulpit  or  otherwise,  by  any 
sought  colour  or  fraud,  to  the  disobeying  of  this  commandment,  to  the 
intent  that  the  whole  clergy  in  this  mean  space,  might  apply  themselves 
to  prayer  to  Almighty  God,  for  the  better  achieving  of  the  same  most 
Grodly  intent  and  purpose,  &c."'  The  means  employed  by  the  enemies 
of  the  reformation  to  overcome  the  obstacle  thus  placed  in  the  way  of 
their  invectives,  is  in  some  degree  characteristic  of  the  times,  and  of 
the  state  both  of  literature  and  public  feeling.  In  the  emphatic  lan- 
guage of  the  old  historian,  **  the  pulpit  being  shut  and  silent  l^  procla- 
mation, the  stage  was  the  more  open  and  vocal  for  the  same :  the  popish 
priests  which,  though  unseen,  stood  behind  the  hanging,  or  lurked  in 
the  tyring-house,  removed  their  invectives  firom  sermons  to  plays,  and  a 
more  proper  place  indeed  for  the  venting  thereof."*  No  sooner  was  this 
licentiousness  of  the  stage  observed,  than  another  ordinance  was  issued, 
prohibiting  for  a  time  dramatic  performances.  But  neither  this,  nor  the 
proclamation  which  silenced  the  pulpits  remained  long  in  fbrce,  and  con- 
sidering the  admowledged  authority  of  such  ordinances,  and  the  excited 
state  of  the  pumic  mind,  there  is  much  greater  reason  to  applaud  the 
prudence  and  humanity  of  the  government,  than  there  would  have  been, 
had  it  allowed  either  the  clergy  or  the  players  to  foment  treason,  and 
then  punished  them  for  the  crime.  The  principles  of  toleration,  how- 
ever, were  as  yet  but  very  imperfectly  understood,  and  some  of  the  best 
men  of  the  age  fell,  it  is  well  known,  into  the  wretched  error  of  suppos- 
ing that  they  had  a  right  to  rule  over  the  consciences  of  men  with  a  rod 
of  iron.  While  men  of  piety  allowed  themselves  to  be  thus  deluded  by 
their  zeal,  others  of  a  different  character,  gladly  seized  upon  the  com- 
mon motives  to  contention,  to  forward  their  own  designs.  Thus  the 
reign  of  the  pious  and  amiable  Edward  was  disfigured  by  several  events 
of  the  darkest  hue,  and  which  indicate  through  how  many  obstacles  the 
light  of  truth  and  rational  freedom  had  yet  to  penetrate  before  it  reached 
the  heart  of  the  commonwealth. 

The  sanguinary  struggles  of  Mary's  reign  afford  a  melancholy  proof 
of  the  fervour  and  intense  devotion,  which  pervaded  the  hearts  of  the 
Protestants.  In  tracing  the  history  of  their  leaders,— of  the  men  who 
exhorted  them  to  persevere  in  their  holy  profession,  and  set  them  the 

■  Tamer's  History  of  Reigns  of  Edward  VI.  &c.  p.  139. 
*  Fuller^  ChurcR  Hist  p.  389.  *  idem.  ^  S90. 


example  by  first  sufTering  themselves, — the  mind  may  acquire  a  a|>ecie8 
of  wisdom  which  it  will  seek  for  in  vain  in  the  history  of  states  and 
statesmen,  of  war  and  warriors.  It  was  a  period  of  excitement,  such 
as  has  rarely  been  witnessed.  Never  was  the  right  of  conscience  more 
fiercely  battled  for;  never  did  zeal  assume  a  more  furious  aspect.  On 
the  side  of  both  the  persecutors  and  the  persecuted,  religion  was  the  one 
great  object  of  thought, — the  one  motive  of  action, — the  supreme,  all- 
engrossing  mistress  of  the  mind  and  heart.  Sad  as  is  the  spectacle 
which  the  results  of  this  state  of  feeling  produced  in  the  reign  of  Mary, 
it  would  be  an  injustice  not  to  acknowledge  that  there  was  a  degree  of 
grandeur  in  this  devotion  of  a  community  to  the  highest  subjects  of 
human  thought,  and  tliat,  perverted  as  was  the  principle  by  the  most 
terrible  of  errors,  its  concentration  in  the  popular  mind  betokens  how 
vast  a  stride  had  morally  been  made  when  the  nation  eonld  thus  resign 
itself  to  influences  which  derive  so  little  of  their  force  from  mere  worldly 
or  material  considerations.  The  Cranmers  and  the  Gardiners,  the  Rid- 
leys  and  the  Bonners,  were  the  representatives  of  multitudes  inspired 
by  the  same  holy,  or  the  same  fiery  zeal;  and  could  history  look  with 
a  minuter  eye  on  the  transactions  of  the  period,  there  is  little  doubt  but 
that  the  instances  of  a  very  near  approach  to  their  character  in  the 
persons  of  undistinguished  individuals  would  be  found  extraordinarily 

But  the  struggle  was  not  simply  between  Protestantism  and  Catho- 
licism, or  between  those  who  desired  to  see  the  human  mind  emanci- 
pated from  the  worst  slavery,  and  those  who  desired  to  rivet  its  fetters 
— ^but  between  those  tendencies  to  general  improvement  which  now 
characterised  the  nation,  and  the  opposing  forces  which  would  have 
resettled  it  in  ignorance.  From  the  reservoirs  of  learning  among  the 
Lebanons  of  knowledge,  refreshing  rills,  though  at  first  small  and  minute, 
descend  to  the  plain.  The  state  of  the  community  is  always  more  or 
less  influenced  by  the  prevailing  studies  of  its  scholars;  and  when  it  is 
considered  how  greatly  the  Reformation,  and  the  impnK^cment  of  the 
people,  which  we  have  been  contemplating,  were  owing  to  the  annihila- 
tion of  false  systems  of  science  and  study,  it  will  be  well  understood 
how  much  danger  was  incurred  at  this  period  when  Mary  and  her  coun- 
sellors resolved  on  the  restoration  of  scholasticism.  Happily  for  the 
nation  and  mankind,  the  seeds  of  genuine  knowledge  had  been  too 
widely  scattered  to  sufier  such  an  attempt  to  succeed;  but  had  this 
queen's  reign  been  prolonged,  it  is  impossible  to  say  what  would  have 
been  the  injuries  sustained  by  that  active  and  inquisitive  spirit,  'which 
was  as  yet  of  too  short  a  growth  to  sustain,  without  harm,  the  continued 
pressure  of  ignorance.  The  scholastic  method  of  studying  theology 
was  essential  to  the  support  of  Catholicism.  Its  tortuous  argumenta- 
tions allowed  the  student  quietly  to  part  with  truth  on  the  way,  and  its 
syllogisms  hedged  them  within  a  circle,  round  which  they  might  run 
with  the  highest  degree  of  speed,  without  ever  advancing  one  step 
nearer  the  great  sources  of  knowledge. 

The  accession  of  Elizabeth  was  an  event  to  which  we  may  still  look 
ba«k  with  a  feeling  of  gladness.  With  it  was  connected  the  re-estab- 
lishment of  principles,  of  which  we,  as  well  as  our  forefathers,  enjoy 
the  beneficent  effects.  A  revolution  could  not  have  produced  a  great- 
er clianire  than  that  which  followed  this  event.     The  gloom  which  the 

bigotry  of  Mary  had  spread  over  the  nation — a  g^oom  not  lees  expe- 
rienced by  those  who  agreed  with  her  in  severity,  than  by  those  who 
were  the  objects  of  her  persecution — ^immediately  gave  way  to  stirring, 
hopeful  anticipations.     The  dangers  which  had  threaten<Kl  the  consti- 
tution, or  many  of  the  principles  which  formed  its  finnest  support, 
vanished  at  the  appearance  of  a  princess  on  the  throne  who  bsid  oo 
flark  or  secret  interests  to  promote.     There  was  every  reason  to  ap* 
prehend,  from  the  machinations  of  Mary  in  aid  of  her  favourite  objects 
that  not  only  the  public  liberty,  but  the  national  independence,  would 
fall  a  sacrifice  to  her  counsels.     Her  attempts  to  change  the  order  of 
succession, — to  restore  the  pope  to  his  supremacy  in  the   Englbh 
church, — and  to  win,  if  possible,  the  attentions  of  the  haughty  and  sul- 
len Philip,  by  conceding  to  him  the  authority  which  she  had  alone  the 
right  to  assume, — ^these  were  all  in  manifest  opposition  to  that  spirit  of 
freedom  and  intelligence  which  had  now  obtained  a  wide  influence  in 
the  community.     Both  religiously  and  politically,  therefore,  the  country 
had  the  strongest  motives  for  hailing  with  satisfiustion  the  accession  of 
Elizabeth ;  and  we  may  ascribe  much  of  that  fresh,  spring-like  gaiety 
and  vigour  which  characterize  the  literature  of  this  age,  to  the  sudden 
and  felicitous  impulse  which  the  general  mind  thus  received.   There  was, 
however,  a  numerous  set  of  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  improve- 
ments in  the  state  of  the  country,  which  were  so  devoutly  to  be  de- 
sired.    Though  the  direst  of  evils  had  been  incurred  by  the  people  at 
large,  from  the  anxiety  and  distrust  consequent  on  persecution,  there 
was  a  large  multitude  who  would  have  gladly  endured  a  continuance 
of  those  evils  rather  than  see  the  protestants  freed  from  danger.     The 
situation,  moreover,  in  which  the  nation  was  placed,  in  reference  to 
foreign  potentates,  demanded  the  most  cautious  counsels ;  and  while,  on 
the  one  hand,  a  feeling  of  triumph  inspired  many,  there  were  others  who, 
equally  joyful  at  the  change,  were  sobered  into  the  exercise  of  the  most 
thoughtful  prudence.    An  admirable  class  of  men  was  thus  brought  into 
action  by  the  necessities  of  the  time,  while  the  brightening  prospects 
which  it  exhibited  gave  birth  to  the  happiest  spirit  of  poetry  and  the  arts* 
Among  Elizabeth's  earliest  counsellors  were  some  of  the  wisest  politi- 
cians whose  names  are  to  be  found  in  English  history.     Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon,  Cecil,  Walsingham,  stand  at  the  head  of  those  public  men  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  introduction  of  that  enlightened  system 
of  politics  which  set  the  Machiavellism  of  foreign  courts  at  defiance 
Had  it  not  been  for  their  calm  and   temperate  advice,  the  sudden 
change  which  the  protestants  found  in  their  condition  might  have  been 
the  cause  of  new  offences — not  the  less  dangerous  because  from  another 
quarter — against  justice  and  religion.    The  address  with  which  Bacon, 
as  lord-keeper,  opened  the  parliament,  is  a  valuable  illustrative  docu- 
ment, and  serves  as  a  key  to  the  characters  and  opinions  of  many  of 
the  most  conspicuous  men  of  the  day.     It  was  his  object,  he  said,  to 
(ay  before  them  "  the  distracted  state  of  the  nation,  both  in  matters  of 
religion  and  the  other  miseries  that  the  wars  and  late  calamities  had 
brought  upon  them."      "  For  religion,"   he  remarked,   "  the   queen 
desired  they  would  consider  of  it  without  heat  or  partial  affection,  or  using 
any  reproachful  term  of  papist  or  heretic  ;  and  that  they  would  avoid 
the  extremes  of  idolatry  and  superstition  on  the  one  hand,  and  contempt 
and  irreligion  on  the  other;  and  that  they  would  examine  matten 

withoni  sopfaiBtical  niceties,  or  too  subtle  speculations,  and  endearonr 
to  settle  things  so  as  might  bring  the  people  to  an  uniformity  and  cor- 
dial agreement  in  them."  In  regard  to  the  state  of  the  nation,  he  de- 
clared, that  the  queen  was  Tory  unwilling  to  lay  any  new  impositions 
ujpon  them,  and  that,  notwithstanding  her  necessities,  ««she  would  de- 
sire no  supply,  but  what  they  did  freely  and  cheerfully  offer."  ^  The 
adyice  which  Cecil  gave  her  majesty  on  the  topics  alluded  to  in 
this  speech,  was  founded  on  a  similar  cautiousness  of  temper,  and 
gives  a  striking  picture  of  the  real  difficulties  which  environed  the  na- 
tion in  its  passage  from  the  late  period  of  darkness  and  trouble. 
^^  The  bishop  of  Rome,"  said  he,  ^*  will  be  incensed :  he  will  excom- 
municate the  queen,  interdict  the  realm,  give  it  a  prey  to  all  princes 
that  will  enter  upon  it,  and  stir  them  up  to  it  by  all  manner  of  means. 
The  French  king  will  be  encouraged  more  to  the  war.  He  will  be  in 
great  hope  of  aid  from  hence,  of  those  discontented  with  this  alteration, 
looking  for  tumults  and  discords.  Scotland  will  have  the  same  causes 
of  boldness.  Ireland  also  will  be  very  difficultly  stayed  in  obedience, 
by  reason  of  the  clergy;  that  is  so  addicted  to  Rome."^  But  notwith- 
standing the  threatening  aspect  of  the  continent,  and  the  fearful  bal- 
ancing of  strength  between  the  hottest  partisans  of  the  opposite  sys- 
tems, the  kingdom  found  itself,  in  a  short  time,  again  advancing  to 
prosperity.  The  difficulties  with  which  the  partizans  of  the  Reforma- 
tion were  surrounded,  served  but  to  stimulate  their  leaders  to  more 
strenuous  exertions:  the  dangers  which  threatened  the  nation  from 
abroad  were  met  by  an  increased  and  more  lively  patriotism;  the  par- 
liament and  the  sovereign  were  closely  united  in  furthering  the  same 
purposes;  and  the  church,  now  aided  by  l^e  talents  and  the  experi- 
ence of  men  who  had  learned  much  in  suffering,  emerged  from  the  cloud 
with  which  the  sanguinary  fumes  of  persecution  had  enveloped  it. 

The  most  general  view  of  the  commencement  of  Elizabeth's  reign 
enables  us  to  discover  many  prognostics  of  its  subsequent  splendour. 
A  superintending  and  almighty  Providence  appears  to  have  so  ordered  it, 
that  the  establishment  of  the  reformed  religion  should  be  attended,  in  this 
country,  with  the  most  manifest  signs  of  its  utility.  Thus  the  purify- 
ing of  the  church,  as  to  its  rites  and  ceremonies,  was  followed  .by  a 
corresponding  improvement  in  the  intellectual  condition  of  the  people: 
the  advancement  of  theological  science,  by  the  aid  of  sound  learning, 
more  practical  than  dogmatical,  but  sufficiently  doctrinal  to  show  ita 
constant  bearing  on  divine  truth,  seemed  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
greatest  reformation  in  every  other  species  of  study  that  had  as  yet 
been  experienced.  And  this  may  £a,irly  lead  us  to  observe,  that  Eliza- 
beth's reign  was  throughout  distinguished  by  the  cultivation  of  objects 
of  utility;  that  it  was  the  very  opposite  of  those  in  which  the  ap^ 
pearance  of  prosperity  resulted  from  the  factitious  display  of  unprofit- 
able conque8.ts;  and  that  we  have  hence  a  very  striking  proof,  how  far 
preferable  is  the  dominion  of  common  sense,  of  sound  practical  intelli- 
gence^ even  for  poetical  literature,  to  the  rule  of  gaiety  and  luxury, 
where  the  ordinary  interests  of  mankind  are  forgotten.  Elizabeth's 
reign  was  the  golden  age  of  English  literature,  because  religion  and  the 
homely  duties,  both  of  public  and  of  private  life,  were  cultivated  with 

•  Burnet's  Hist  Reform,  vol  ii.  p.  690.        •  Turner,  note,  p.  316. 


assidaoofl  care.  The  sovereign,  in  her  sphere,  was  an  example  to  each 
of  her  subjects  in  theirs.  She  was  not  averse  to  cheerful  displajs  of 
jvealth,  but  she  was  ever  anxious  to  provide  for  its  secority.  ^  She 
made  some  progress,"  it  Is  said  of  her,  ^'  in  paying  those  great  debts 
which  lay  upon  the  crown ;  she  regulated  the  coin,  which  had  been 
much  debased  by  her  predecessors;  she  furnished  her  arsenals  with 
great  quantity  of  arms  from  Germany  and  other  places ;  engaged  her 
nobility  and  gentry  to  imitate  her  example  in  this  particular ;  intro- 
duced into  the  kingdom  the  art  of  making  gunpowder  and  bnws  can- 
non; fortified  her  frontiers  on  the  side  of  Scotland;  made  frequent  re- 
views of  the  militia;  encouraged  agriculture,  by  allowing  a  free 
exportation  of  com;  promoted  trade  and  navigation,  and  so  much 
increased  the  shipping  of  her  kingdom,  both  by  building  vessels  of 
force  herself,  and  suggesting  like  undertakings  to  the  merchants,  that 
she  was  justly  styled  the  restorer  of  naval  glory,  and  the  queen  of  the 
northern  seas."^  The  confidence  which  this  conduct  generated  in  her 
subjects  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  country.  It  went  £ur  to- 
wards repressing  the  murmurs  of  even  religious  maleeontents:  the 
blessings  of  security,  of  plenty  enjoyed  in  peace,  are  not  vatieLt  even  by 
the  most  bigoted,  though  they  come  from  their  opponents;  and  they 
operate  like  a  strong  but  unauspected  sedative  on  the  mind  of  many  a 
popular  polemic. 

It  ought  not,  however,  to  be  forgotten,  that  there  were  many  events 
in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  which  tended  to  imbue  the  active  spirit  of  the 
times  with  higher  feelings  than  those  resulting  from  the  mere  contem- 
plation of  utility.  The  defeat  of  the  Spaniards,  of  their  invincible  ar- 
mada, produced  effects  on  the  nation  internally  of  much  greater  con- 
sequence than  those,  great  as  they  were,  which  resulted  to  it  politically. 
A  chivalrous  desire  to  meet  the  enemy  filled  the  mind  of  almost  every 
man  in  the  kingdom.  To  the  request  which  the  ministers  made  to  the 
city  of  London,  that  it  would  contribute  five  thousand  men  and  fifteen 
ships,  it  sent  in  answer,  ten  thousand  men  and  thirty  ships.  This  sen- 
timent, while  it  surmounted  all  others  which  the  politics  of  the  day  caU- 
ed  forth,  did  really  exalt  the  national  character,  by  making  the  people 
conscious  of  the  power  they  possessed,  and  leading  them  to  understand 
how  entirely  the  preservation  of  their  freedom  depended  on  their  bra- 
very and  sacrifices.  Even  the  lowest  of  the  soldiers  partook  of  the  en- 
thusiasm; and  Stowe  says  that  he  saw  them  marching  towards  Til- 
bury ^'with  cheerful  countenances,  courageous  words  and  gestures,  and 
dancing  and  leaping,  wheresoever  they  came;  while  in  the  camp  their 
most  felicity  was  the  hope  of  fighting  with  the  enemy,  where  oftimes, 
divers  reports  ran  of  their  foes'  approach,  and  that  present  battle 
would  be  given  them,  then  were  they  as  joyful  at  such  news  as  if  lusty 
giants  were  to  run  a  race."^  These  feelings,  in  minds  of  a  higher  or- 
der, could  not  fail  to  re-awakcn  those  ennobling  principles  which  some- 
times sparkled  forth  in  the  b^st  days  of  chivalry,  but  had  been  gener- 
ally stifled  in  their  birth  by  the  burdensome  pomp  of  the  institution. 
Now  they  had  free  play,  and  and  such  men  as  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  and  others  of  the  same  class,  the  true  ancestors  of 
English  nobility,  were  greatly  indebted,  for  their  virtues  and  aocom- 

*  Home,  voi  iv.  c  88.  *  Stowo,  p.  744. 

U.  B 

plishments,  to  the  bright  age  of  patriotism, — of  mingled  trial  and  pros- 
perity,— of  business  and  of  sentiment,  in  which  they  had  the  fortunate 
lot  to  be  bom. 

Acting  in  a  very  different  way  on  the  public  mind,  but  not  unbene- 
ficially,  was  the  mingled  sentiment  of  indignation  and  horror  wilh 
which  it  beheld  the  conduct  of  France  towards  the  unfortunate  protes- 
tauts  of  that  country.  Sympathy  for  those  who  suffer  in  defending 
principles  for  which  we  ourselves  contend  is  of  a  quite  different  nature 
to  the  ordinary  emotion  of  compassion  which  goes  by  the  same  name. 
Nor  can  a  nation  receive  a  more  powerful  impulse  in  its  moral 
advancement  and  capacities.  Corruptions  of  truth  are  never  so  palpa- 
ble to  the  unpractised  eye  as  when  conjoined  with  violations  of  justice 
and  humanity.  They  compel  reason  and  passion  to  labour  under  the  same 
yoke ;  and,  situated  as  England  was  at  the  time  of  the  Bartholomew 
massacre,  there  can  be  little  doubt  but  that  the  feelings  which  it  in- 
spired contributed  in  a  high  degree  to  animate  multitudes  with  i  deeper 
and  more  ardent  gratitude  for  the  light  they  enjoyed.  Nor  were  the  nu- 
merous precautions  which  it  was  found  necessary  to  take  against  the 
attempts  of  the  Catholic  princes  and  their  emissaries  without  their  in- 
fluence in  another  point  of  view.  The  tone  of  society  was  thereby  pre- 
vented from  degenerating  into  tameness,— 'pleasure  was  enjoyed  with  a 
richer  zest, — a  full  and  warm  colouring  of  natural  sentiment  diffused  it- 
sdf  over  the  common  customs  of  life, — and  the  pictures(|ueness  of  the 
age,  delighting  in  masques  and  revelries,  was  easily  made  to  furnish 
types  of  true  poetical  force  and  beauty. 

We  might  greatly  extend  our  observations  on  the  circumstances 
which  were  combined  in  rendering  the  age  of  Elizabeth  so  glorious  a 
period  of  English  history.  It  might  be  added,  that  the  intercourse 
which  now  took  place  with  the  most  distant  countries  was  in  no  slight 
measure  favourable  to  improvement,  and  that  the  writers  of  the  day 
had  the  advantage  of  that  importation  of  Spanish  literature  and  histori- 
cal traditions  which  had  occurred  in  the  preceding  reign.  Bui  the  brief 
view  we  have  taken  is  sufficient  to  point  out  the  main  incentives  to  ex- 
ertion which  the  great  men  of  the  age  received  from  without ;  and, 
while  the  names  of  Shakspeare,  Spenser,  and  the  rest  who  formed  the 
splendid  galaxy  of  which  they  were  the  centre  stars,  afford  us  more  than  a 
remembrance  of  that  memorable  era,  may  we  look  with  pleasure,  and  not 
without  instruction,  at  even  the  probable  causes  which  tended  to  the 
developement  of  their  genius. 


BORN  A.  D.  14^7. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1509. 

This  prince  was  born  in  1457.     His  father  was  Edmund,  earl  of 
Richmond,  son  of  Sir  Owen  Tudor,  by  Catherine  of  France.     Hia 

pewod.]  henry  vn.  1 1 

mother  was  Margaret,  daughter  of  John,  duke  of  Somerset,  who  was 
grandson,  by  a  spurious  branch,  of  John  of  Gaunt,  the  son  of  Edward 
III.  By  the  death  of  his  father,  he  succeeded  to  the  earldom  at  an 
early  age,  and  by  his  birth,  he  belonged  of  course  to  the  house  of 
Lfaneaster,  whose  claims  to  the  English  crown  were  so  z^ously  dis- 
puted with  the  rival  family  of  York.  When,  in  May,  1471,  the  ad- 
herents of  the  former  line  were  defeated  at  the  battle  of  Tewksbury,  the 
earl  of  Pembroke,  young  Richmond's  unde,  conveyed  his  nephew,  now 
about  fourteen  years  of  age,  to  Britanny.  But  political  jealousy  may 
gather  strength  irom  the  absence  of  its  object ;  nor,  probably,  was  it 
without  reason  that  Edward  IV.,  the  reigning  king  of  England,  and  of 
the  &mily  of  York,  felt  suspicious  of  the  youthful  exile,  to  whom — 
although  the  very  act  which  rendered  his  relation  to  the  royal  house  of 
Lancaster  legitimate,  made  an  exception  of  his  particular  branch  in 
respect  of  the  succession  to  the  crown — the  eyes  of  the  Lancastrian 
party,  in  their  extremity,  appear  to  have  been  turned.  Edward  sought 
to  induce  the  duke  of  Britanny  to  deliver  up  the  earl.  This  proposal 
the  duke  rejected,  but,  being  an  ally  of  Edward,  agreed  to  retain  him 
in  custody.  The  king,  however,  again  applied  for  the  person  of  Rich* 
mond  to  be  given  up  into  his  hands,  professing  an  intention  that  the 
eail  should  receive  his  daughter  Elizabeth  in  marriage.  Richmond,  ac- 
cordingly, was  about  to  proceed  on  his  return  to  the  English  shore, 
but,  owing,  it  seems,  to  a  suspicion  of  the  king's  intentions  timeously 
occurring  to  the  mind  of  the  duke,  the  latter  still  reserved  his  noble  visitor 
in  his  o^vn  hands.  But,  after  the  death  of  Edward  and  the  usurpation  of 
Richard  III.  in  1483,  the  very  matrimonial  scheme  which,  with  no  friendly 
intention  towards  the  earl  perhaps,  the  former  had  proposed,  was  suggest* 
ed  to  the  duke  of  Britanny  by  Bishop  Morton,  an  active  supporter  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster.  This  union,  by  which  the  family  of  York,  repre- 
sented by  Elizabeth,  could  be  brought  into  such  intimate  connection  with 
that  of  Lancaster,  was  agreed  to  not  only  by  the  duke,  but  also  by  the 
queen-dowager,  mother  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  countess  of  Richmond, 
mother  of  the  earl,  the  former  of  whom  made  provision  for  his  return, 
and  advised  him  to  levy  forces  against  King  Richard — to  whose  sway 
she  had  so  much  reason  to  be  hostile^ — and,  on  his  arrival  in  England 
to  enter  into  the  intended  marriage  with  her  daughter.  Accordingly, 
he  set  sail  on  that  expedition,  the  fortunes  of  which  we  have  already 
noticed  in  our  sketch  of  Richard  III.  In  the  battle  of  Bosworth 
Richmond  was  at  last  victorious ;  he  was  hailed,  ere  he  left  the  field, 
with  shouts  of  "  Long  live  Henry  VII  I"  and  the  crown,  which  had  been 
worn  by  Richard  in  the  battle,  was  placed  on  his  head.' 

'  Many  of  our  readen  may  remember  that  scene  of  Shakspeare^ Richard  III. 
Act  IV.  Scene  4-^where  an  interview  between  Richard  and  the  queen-dowafer,  after 
the  loss  of  her  poor  princes,  Edward  V.  and  the  Duke  of  York,  is  vividly  oescribed. 
In  the  course  of  this  scene^  wherein  the  pity  and  resentment  of  the  bereaved  mother  are 
represented,  Richard  ventures  to  make  proposals  to  the  queen  for  the  hand  of  her 
daughter  Elizabeth,  and  at  last  appears  to  gain  upon  her.  This  incident  accords  with 
a  historical  fact  adverted  to  in  the  present  sketch. 

'  This  last  circumstance  and  the  great  historical  event  with  which  it  is  connected, 
may  remind  some  of  our  readers  of  the  following  prediction  respecting  Richmond 
when  a  boy,  put  into  the  mouth  of  Henry  VI.— Shakspeare^  Henry  VI.  Act  IV. 
Scene  6  :— 

Come  hither,  England's  hope.  If  secret  powers 
Suggest  but  truib  to  my  divining  thoughts. 

12  POLITICAL  SERma  [ForasTH 

It  seems  anlikely  that  a  character  such  as  that  of  Richard  III.,  and  a 
throne  founded  as  was  tliat  of  this  infamous  usurper,  would  be  able  to  gain 
the  respect  or  affection  of  the  people;  nor  does  it  appear  very  wonderful 
that  Richmond,  now  in  his  hopeful  prime,  crowned  with  the  laurels  of  his 
late  decisive  victory,  and  destined  to  a  marriage  with  the  heiress  of  the 
house  of  York,  should  have  easily  consummated  an  accession  to  the 
throne,  notwithstanding  the  insufficiency  of  his  own  individual  claimS; 
and  the  probable  superiority  in  those  of  the  house  of  York  to  the  rival 
ones  of  that  of  Lancaster.  He  seems,  however,  to  have  ascended  the 
throne  with  an  undue  and  impolitic  degree  of  opposition  to  the  &mily 
of  York.  He  also  ventured  to  put  off  his  marriage  with  Elizabeth — ^the 
event  by  which  he  was  to  unite  the  families,  and  thereby  strengthen 
his  claims — until  he  should  have  been  crowned,  and  bad  his  accession 
sanctioned  by  act  of  parliament.  On  the  30th  of  October,  the  cere* 
mony  of  coronation  was  performed  by  Bourchier,  archbishop  of  Can> 
terbury,  who  had  also  crowned  the  two  preceding  sovereigns,  Edward 
IV.  and  Richard  III. ;  and  in  the  parliament  which  met,  November  7th, 
a  majority  appeared  to  be  in  £Ebvour  of  the  new  king,  who,  in  addressing 
them,  adverted  to  the  victory  he  had  lately  gained,  as  well  as  to  his 
hereditary  claims.  The  act  of  future  succession — which  is  represented 
by  Mr.  Hume  as  drawn  up  ^^with  sufficient  reserve  and  moderation" 
— without  setting  aside  the  claims  of  the  house  of  York,  or  enforcing 
Richmond's  independent  right,  was  yet  so  framed  as  to  fix  the  succes- 
sion in  the  heirs  of  his  own  body;  and,  on  his  applying,  next  year,  for 
a  papal  bull  in  confirmation  of  his  title,  it  was  readily  granted  by  Pope 
Innocent  VIII.  Some  of  the  Yorkists  were  sentenced  by  an  act  of 
attainder;  but  the  king  published  a  proclamation  offering  pardon  to 
those  who  had  opposed  him  in  the  field,  provided  they  submitted  within 
a  certain  time,  and  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  new  government.^ 
He  also  conferred  favours  on  certain  of  his  own  adherents,  rt^storing  to 
his  honours  the  eldest  son  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham — *'  the  effect," 
says  Mr.  Hume,  '^  of  his  gratitude  to  the  memory  of  Buckingham, 
who  had  first  concerted  the  plan  of  his  elevation,  and  who,  by  his  own 
ruin,  had  made  way  for  that  great  event." 

In  January  1486,  a  few  months  after  his  accession,  Henry,  according 
to  the  wishes  of  his  parliament,  married  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Ed- 
ward IV.,  who  was  not  crowned,  however,  until  November  1487.  To 
this  princess  he  seems  to  have  greatly  failed  in  conjugal  affection.  A 
disposition  such  as  that  which,  afterwards  at  least,  marked  the  character 
of  Henry, — artful,  cold,  and  avaricious, — seems  but  little  consonant 
with  the  amiable  performance  of  the  duties  of  domestic  life.  His  re- 
missness in  this  respect  has  also  been  attributed  to  violent  prejudice 
against  the  family  of  York.  Nor  can  it  be  denied,  that  at  an  early 
period  of  his  reign,  there  existed  in  the  northern  parts  of  England — 
to  which  he  at  this  time  made  a  journey — considerable  opposition  to 
the  cause  of  the  Lancastrian  king.     A  hostile  attempt,  however,  against 

This  pretty  lad  will  prove  our  country's  blifis. 
His  looks  are  fall  of  peaceful  majesty ; 
His  head  by  nature  framed  to  wear  a  crown, 
His  hand  to  wield  a  sceptre,  and  himself 
Likely  in  time  to  bless  a  royal  throne. 

»  Eot.  Par. 

PxBioD.]  HENKY  Vn.  13 

tiie  aatlioritjr  of  Henrj,  was  put  down,  and  on  the  20tb  of  September, 
a  foundation  was  laid  for  the  continuance  of  the  crown  in  his  fitmilyy 
by  the  birth  of  a  son,  to  whom,  after  the  British  king,  he  gare  the 
name  of  Arthur.^ 

This  year,  however,  a  formidable  insurrection  against  Henry's  au- 
thority occurred,  headed  by  Lambert  Simnel,  an  intelligent  youth, 
though  of  low  condition,  who  acted,  in  this  case,  under  the  direction  of 
Richard  Simon,  a  priest  at  Oxford.  But  the  influence  of  persons  of 
higher  rank  has  been  supposed  to  have  been  at  work  in  this  conspiracy; 
and  from  the  circumstance  that  Henry,  on  this  occasion,  committed  his 
mother-in-law  to  custody,  though  under  another  pretext,  that,  namely, 
oi  haying  submitted  to  Richard  III.  contrary  to  her  promise,  it  has 
been  inferred  that  the  queen-dowager  herself  was  probably  an  agent 
in  the  case.  Simnel  started  forth  in  Ireland,  where  the  people  were 
attached  to  the  family  of  York,  professing  himself  to  be  the  earl 
of  Warwick,  a  young  member  of  that  royal  house  of  whom  the  king 
appears  to  have  be^n  peculiarly  jealous,  and  the  nearest  male  heir 
to  the  throne.  Henry  had  committed  young  Warwick  to  the  tower, 
and  on  this  occa8i<»i  he  sought  to  convince  the  people  that  Sim- 
nel's  attempt  was  an  imposture,  by  exhibiting  the  real  earl  in  Lon- 
don. But  Simnel,  after  being  actually  treated  in  Dublin  as  king, 
joined  not  only  by  Irish  troops,  but  by  two  thousand  veterans  sent 
over  by  the  duchess  of  Burgundy,  aunt  of  the  earl  of  Lincoln — ^who, 
being  nephew  to  Richard  III.,  and,  it  is  supposed,  intended  by  the  lat- 
ter as  his  sueeessor  on  the  throne,  in  case  of  his  own  previous  demise 
without  issue,  was  naturally  in  opposition  to  Henry — landed  in  Lan- 
cashire, and  advanced  to  Stoke  in  Nottingham.  There  the  rebel  troops 
were  met  by  Henry's  army,  which  proved  victorious  after  an  obstinate 
encounter.  Lincoln  and  other  leaders  were  slain  on  the  field;  Simnel 
received  a  pardon,  and  became  a  menial  servant  of  the  king,  from  which 
situation  he  was  afterwards  advanced  to  that  of  falconer.  After  the 
battle,  Henry  made  a  progress  in  the  northern  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
and  penalties,  especially  fines,  were  imposed  on  supporters  of  the  late 
rebellion:  the  king  ^'  making  his  revenue,"  says  Mr.  Hume,  ^'subservient 
to  his  avarice." 

Henry  was  now  induced  to  interfere  in  foreign  politics.  The  king 
of  France,  encouraged  by  the  barons  of  Brittany,  having  made  a  for- 
midable invasion  on  that  country,  an  embassy  from  France  to  the  Eng- 
lish king  arrived  soon  after  the  battle  of  Stoke,  and  sought  to  induce 
the  latter  to  remain  neutral  in  the  quarrel,  if  he  could  not  lend  to  France 
his  positive  assistance  in  its  opposition  to  a  court  where  he  had  received 
protection  in  his  youth — representing  the  war  with  Brittany  as  occa- 
sioned by  that  duchy  having  given  shelter  to  French  rebels  and  fugi- 
tives. Henry,  for  a  considerable  time,  continued  to  act  as  a  mediator 
between  the  parties  rather  than  an  assistant  of  either.  At  length  the 
Bretons  were  routed  by  the  invaders  in  the  battle  of  St.  Aubin,  and,  on 
the  death  of  the  duke  of  Brittany  shortly  after,  the  French  set  forth  a 
claim  to  the  government  of  that  duchy.  Henry  was  now  induced, 
though  with  the  calculating  spirit  for  which  he  was  remarkable,  to  send 
military  aid  to  Brittany,  the  violated  home  of  his  earlier  life;  and  when 

*  LeL  ColL  iv.  204. 


King  Charles  of  France  had  at  last  succeeded  in  annexing  the  duchy 
to  his  own  kingdom  by  marriage  with  the  duchess,  Henry,  in  address- 
ing his  parliament,  which  met  in  October,  1491,  represented  the  king 
of  England  as  having  a  claim  to  the  throne  of  France, — referred  to  the 
success  of  their  ancestors  at  the  battles  of  Crecy  and  Poictiers  and 
Azincourt,  and  announced  his  intention  to  aim  at  the  sovereignty  oi 
chat  country,  which,  he  told  them,  had  refused  to  pay  a  stipulated  tri- 
bute due  to  the  English  nation.  These  have  been  considered  as  vaunt- 
mg  words  accommodated  to  the  feelings  entertained  in  England  respect- 
ing France,  now  tliat  Britanny  had  been  subdued.  But  a  lai*ge  supply, 
was  granted  to  the  king  for  carrying  on  a  war  with  that  country, — ^the 
nobles  enthusiastically  entered  into  the  prospect  of  military  honour  now 
brightening  before  them, — and,  on  the  6th  of  October,  1492,  Henry, 
in  person,  sailed  for  Calais,  with  a  view,  according  to  his  own  pro- 
fessions, of  subduing  France.  He  did  lay  siege  to  Boulogne,  but  in 
November  cx)ncluded  a  peace,  respecting  which  negotiations  had  pre- 
viously taken  place.  By  a  stipulation  in  the  treaty,  not  only  were 
the  sums  expended  by  England  in  support  of  Britanny  to  be  repaid 
by  France,  but  to  Henry,  intent  on  the  gratification  of  his  avarice,  and 
to  his  heirs,  an  annual  pension  of  twenty-five  thousand  crowns  was 
to  be  paid. 

In  the  course  of  these  protracted  operations  on  the  continent,  the  at- 
tempts to  collect  a  subsidy  granted  in  November,  1487,  had  excited,  in 
the  counties  of  York  and  Durham,  a  violent  excitement,  such  as  to  in- 
duce Henry  to  send  down  a  force,  commanded  by  the  earl  of  Surrey, 
against  the  rioters,  who  were  subdued,  and,  in  general,  pardoned  by 
the  king.  But,  before  his  evacuation  of  France,  there  arose  another 
hostile  attempt,  of  which  the  duchess  of  Burgundy  appears  as  a  princi- 
pal supporter.  This  was  made  by  a  youth  named  Perkin  Warbeck, 
who  sought  to  have  himself  considered  as  none  other  than  Richard, 
duke  of  York,  son  of  Edward  IV.,  who  was  supposed  to  have  been 
murdered  under  the  direction  of  Richard  III.,  and  whose  hereditary 
claim  to  the  crown,  were  he  alive,  might  be  considered  as  prior  to  any 
that  Henry  could  advance.  Warbeck — who  is  represented  as  a  beauti- 
ful and  intelligent  youth — after  advancing  his  claim  in  Ireland,  went 
over  to  the  court  of  France,  invited  by  the  sovereign  of  that  country, 
whose  guest  he  continued  to  be  when  the  peace  was  concluded  with 
England  in  1492.  Henry,  at  this  time,  applied  to  the  French  monarch 
for  Perkin  to  be  delivered  up  into  his  hands.  Charles,  who  had  invited 
the  alleged  duke  of  York  to  France,  declined,  but  agreed  to  send  the 
adventurer  away.  Warbeck  betook  himself  to  the  duchess  of  Burgun- 
dy, who  professed  to  receive  his  pretensions  with  distrust,  but,  at 
length,  embraced  him  as  her  nephew,  Richard,  duke  of  York.  The 
claims  of  Warbeck  made  considerable  impression  even  in  England, 
but  the  cautious  and  considerate  Henry  not  only  sought  to  prove,  by 
surviving  witnesses,  the  death  of  the  actual  duke  of  York,  but  ascer- 
tained, by  means  of  spies  and  bribes,  the  secret  history  of  the  scheme. 
Sir  Robert  Clifford,  who  had  supported  the  pretensions  of  Warbeck, 
was  gained  over  by  the  king,  and  received  a  pardon, — but  several 
other  English  gentlemen,  for  the  same  offence,  were  accused  of  high 
treason  and  condemned ;  and,  after  considerable  delay.  Sir  William 
Stanley,  who  had  been  eminently  zealous  for  the  king  at  the  battle  of 

pebiod.]  henry  vn.  15 

Bofiwortby  and  had  been  appointed  his  chamberlain,  was  condemned 
and  ezecnied,  a  monament  of  the  matabilitj  of  honour,  and  of  the  in- 
security of  favour  in  times  of  political  distraction.  Perkin  escaped  a 
snare  laid  for  him  bj  troops  assembled  bj  gentlemen  of  Kent,  but  some 
of  those  who  followed  him  on  the  occasion  were  either  killed  outright, 
or  tried  and  put  to  death.  He  himself  escaped  to  Flanders,  but,  leav- 
ing that  country,  came  over  to  Ireland,  and  thereafter  to  Scotland, 
where  he  was  entertained  by  James  IV.,  and  received  in  marriage  a 
daughter  of  the  earl  of  Huntly.  An  aggression,  on  the  part  of  James, 
upon  the  English  frontier,  in  which  he  was  accompanied  by  Warbeck, 
was  followed  by  an  insurrection  in  Cornwall,  occasioned  by  Henry *s 
attempt  to  raise  the  tribute  for  the  Scottbh  war.  The  English  insur- 
rection was  soon  subdued,  and  the  captives  were  set  free ;  a  truce  too 
was  formed  between  Henry  and  the  king  of  Scotland.  But  Perkin 
having  been  dismissed  from  that  country,  betook  himself  to  the  south 
of  England,  where  he  was  followed  by  a  multitude  of  the  populace,  and 
assumed  the  title  of  Richard  IV.  Military  preparations  were  resorted 
to  on  the  part  of  the  king ;  Warbeck's  followers  submitted,  and  in  gen- 
eral were  leniently  treated.  To  Catherine  Gordon,  the  noble  lady 
whom  Warbeck  had  married,  the  king  behaved  with  liberality.  Perkin 
himself  was  soon  afterwards  brought  to  execution,  with  the  young  earl 
of  Warwick,  the  last  of  the  Plantagenets.  The  execution  of  Warbeck 
may  have  been  blameless, — respecting  that  of  Warwick  we  quote  the 
words  of  Hume  : — *^  This  violent  act  of  tyranny,  the  great  blemish  of 
Henry's  reign,  by  which  he  destroyed  the  last  remaining  male  of  the 
line  of  Plantagenet)  begat  great  discontent  among  the  people  who  saw 
an  unhappy  prince,  that  had  long  been  denied  all  the  privileges  of  his 
high  birth,  even  cut  off  from  the  common  benefits  of  nature,  now  at 
last  deprived  of  life  itself,  merely  for  attempting  to  shake  off  that  op- 
pression under  which  he  laboured*" 

In  November  1501,  Prince  Arthur  was  married  to  Catharine,  daughter 
of  Ferdinand  of  Arragon.  A  few  months  aflter  this  marriage,  Arthur 
died ;  but  Henry,  the  king*s  second  son,  aflerwards  Henry  Vlll.  was 
forthwith  espoused  to  the  widow  of  his  brother,  a  measure  for  which  a 
papal  dispensation  was  obtained.  About  the  same  time,  Margaret,  the 
king  s  elder  daughter,  was  married  to  James,  king  of  Scotland.  Eliza- 
beth, Henry's  queen,  died  in  Februaiy  15Gd.  But  neither  prosperous 
nor  adverse  circumstances  seem  to  have  rooted  out  the  avarice  of  the 
king.  At  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  he  had  taken  as  confidential  coun- 
sellors, two  clergymen,  Morton  and  Fox,  both  of  whom  were  raised  to 
bishoprics.  These  individuals  are  said  to  have  kept  in  check  this  ruling 
passion  of  the  king.  But  we  now  find  him  using  the  aid  of  two  infa- 
mous ministers,  Empson  and  Dudley,  in  supplying  his  coffers  by  the 
oppression  of  his  subjects, — ^men  who  appear  to  have  w^anted  alike  the 
generosity  of  freemen,  and  the  ordinary  sympathies  of  nature.  Under 
the  heavy  exactions  enforced  by  their  illegal  or  legalized  barbarity, 
fines  and  forfeitures  supplied  the  treasury  of  Henry,  who  is  said  to  have 
been  in  possession,  before  his  death,  of  the  enormous  sum  of  £1,800,000. 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1506,  Henry  committed  to  the  Tower  the 
earl  of  Suffolk,  nephew  of  Ed^^ard  IV.  having  previously  induced 
Philip  of  Castile  to  yield  him  up  into  his  hands.  There  is  recorded  a 
conversation  between  these  two  princes  on  the  subject,  to  the  following 

16  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foijbth 

efiect.  On  Henry  objecting  to  the  favour  which  Suffolk — who  had  en- 
gaged in  certain  unfortunate  intrigues— had  met  with  in  the  dominions  of 
the  Castilian  king,  that  prince  replied  that  he  supposed  the  English 
king  had  been  above  being  apprehensive  of  so  unimportant  a  personago 
as  the  earl,  but  promised  to  banish  him  from  his  kingdom.  This,  how- 
ever, did  not  satisfy  the  jealous  mind  of  Henry, — jealous  the  more,  per- 
haps, from  the  consciousness  of  the  attempts  which  had  been  made,  ou 
his  own  behalf,  against  the  usurpation  of  Richard  HI.  He  desired  of 
Philip  that  Suffolk  might  be  delivered  into  his  hands.  Philip  objected 
that  compliance  with  this  proposal  would  bring  dishonour  both  on 
Henry  and  himself,  and  produce  an  impression  that  the  one  had  treated 
the  other  as  a  prisoner.  *<  I,"  said  the  King,  ^*  will  take  that  dishonour 
on  myself,  and  so  your  honour  is  saved."  About  the  same  time  Henry 
formed  a  treaty  with  Philip  favourable  to  the  commerce  of  England  with 
Castile,  and  soon  thereafter,  betrothed  his  daughter  Mary  to  the  arch- 
duke Charles,  the  son  of  the  Castilian  king. 

In  justice  to  the  English  monarch  it  must  be  said,  that,  in  the  course 
of  his  reign,  he  showed  a  regard  to  the  interests  of  maritime  discovery 
and  trade.  Though  contrary  to  a  rule  recommended  by  Montesquieu, 
that  kings  should  not  be  merchants,  he  seems  to  have  himself  engaged 
in  commercial  enterprise.  His  celebrated  vessel,  the  Great  Harry,  is 
represented  as  costing  fourteen  thousand  pounds.  He  invited  Columbus 
to  England,  when  that  illustrious  navigator  had  failed  of  obtaining  sup- 
port fh)m  the  courts  of  Spain  and  Portugal  in  his  proposed  adventure; 
and,  although  he  lost  the  honour  of  that  discoverer's  success,  he  sent  out 
Sebastian  Cabot  on  a  similar  voyage.  Thb  commercial  laws  passed  in 
this  reign  by  parliament,  however,  were,  according  to  the  views  of  the 
time,  restrictive  of  perfect  freedom  in  foreign  trade.  Of  the  interference 
on  the  part  of  the  king  and  parliament — ^not  very  impolitic,  perhaps — 
with  another  department  of  the  social  customs  of  the  commonwealth, 
the  extent  of  the  retinue  in  a  nobleman's  establishment,  there  is  recorded 
the  following  rather  lively  anecdote.  On  occasion  of  a  visit  which 
Henry  paid  to  his  fevourite  the  earl  of  Oxford,  the  retainers  of  that 
nobleman  were  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  and  presented  a  magnificent  ap- 
pearance. The  king  exalted  the  earl's  hospitality,  suggesting,  that  the 
gentlemen  and  yeomen  who  appeared  before  him  were,  of  course, 
menials  of  his  noble  host.  Oxfonl  replied  that  most  of  them  were  his 
retainers,  who  had  come  on  this  occasion  to  do  him  service.  *'  By  my 
faith,"  exclaimed  his  majesty,  '*  I  thank  you  for  your  good  cheer,  but 
I  must  not  allow  my  laws  to  be  broken  in  my  sight  I  My  attorney  must 
speak  with  you."     The  earl  is  said  to  have  been  fined  accordingly. 

It  seems  unlikely  that  the  court  of  Henry  would  be  maintained  on  his 
part,  with  any  extraordinary  splendour.  In  tilts  and  tournaments, 
however — those  stern  amusements  of  the  age — ^the  king  himself  took 
part  Prompted,  probably,  rather  by  respect  for  the  Romish  church  or 
deference  to  the  papal  f  ee,  than  by  religious  or  romantic  ardour,  he 
expressed  an  interest  in  a  crusade  to  Palestine  in  which  Pope  Alexander 
VI.  exhorted  him  to  join.  But  his  negotiation  with  the  papal  nuncio 
on  the  subject  is  marked  by  the  cautious  and  calculating  spirit  of  the 

At  last,  declining  health  brought  him  near  the  termination  of  his 
powerful  but  oppressive  reign.     His  cousdenoe  was  troubled  by  the  re- 


■    -  —  ■ • — — ■ — ■ "- — 

collection  of  the  rapacity  whick  he  had  countenanced,  and  his  will  di- 
rected restitution  to  be  made  to  such  as  had  suffered  injury  at  his  hands. 
He  died  at  Richmond,  22d  April,  1509,  in  the  52d  year  of  his  age,  and 
24th  of  his  reign.  His  successor,  Henry  VIII.,  committed  to  Pietro 
Torregiano— a  Florentine  sculptor,  who  came  to  assist  in  the  building 
of  that  celebrated  edifice,  begun  by  the  late  king,  ^  Henry  Seventh's 
chapel,' — ^the  erection  within  its  walls,  of  a  tomb  to  his  £Either's  memory, 
which,  if  worthy  of  the  riches  which  that  mouarch  had  amassed,  and  of 
the  sc^re  which  he  had  wielded,  may  be  viewed  as  also  splendidly 
attesting  the  insufficiency  of  both. 

DIED  JL,  D.  1499. 

The  melanchply  fortunes  and  fate  of  this  prince  form  one  of  the 
gloomiest  pages  in  English  history.  After  the  execution  of  his  fiither, 
the  duke  of  Clarence,  Edward  IV.  had  created  him  earl  of  Warwick. 
Even  Richard,  after  the  death  of  his  own  son,  had  treated  him  for 
a  time  as  the  heir-apparent,  but  afterwards,  fearing  that  he  might 
ultimately  prove  a  dangerous  competitor,  had  confined  him  in  the  castle 
of  Sheriffhutton,  in  Yorkshire.  The  first  act  of  Henry  VII.  was  to 
transfer  the  young  prince,  who  had  only  reached  his  15th  year,  from 
his  prison  in  the  north  to  the  tower  of  London,  a  place  of  greater 
security  for  so  formidable  a  personage  as  the  heir  to  the  crown  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  of  the  house  of  York.  The  people  commiserated 
the  hard  lot  of  the  innocent  youths  and  readily  listened  to  the  assur- 
ances of  an  impostor,  Ralph  Wulford,  that  the  earl  of  Warwick  had 
escaped  from  his  dismal  prison,  and  was  about  to  re-appear  in  public  and 
vindicate  his  injured  rights.  The  committal  of  Warbeck  to  the  tower 
precipitated  the  fate  of  the  last  of  the  Plantagenets.  Whether  from  acci- 
dent or  design,  the  two  prisoners  were  permitted  to  see  and  converse 
with  each  other,  and  concert  a  plan  for  their  escape.  Four  of  the  war- 
ders  were  induced,  by  liberal  promises,  to  connive  at  the  escape  of  both 
prisoners.  According  to  the  records  of  their  trial,  it  was  arranged  that 
Warbeck  was  to  be  again  proclaimed  by  the  title  of  Richard  IV.,  and 
Warwick  was  to  summon  the  retainers  of  his  father  to  the  standard  of 
the  new  king.  On  the  21st  of  November,  1499,  two  days  after  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  pretender,  the  earl  of  Warwick  was  brought  to  trial  for 
treason.  Of  his  own  accord  he  pleaded  guilty  before  a  jury  of  peers, 
and  received  sentence  of  death  from  the  earl  of  Oxford,  as  lord-high- 
steward,  which  was  carried  into  execution  a  few  days  afterwards. 
Thus  perished  the  last  male  of  the  Plantagenets,  who  had  reigned  over 
England  for  nearly  four  hundred  years.  The  public  voice,  as  we  have 
already  hinted,  loudly  reprobated  Henry*s  injustice  and  inhumanity. 
For  Warwick,  confined,  as  he  had  ever  been,  without  any  legal  war- 
rant, was  undoubtedly  justified  in  attempting  to  recover  his  liberty ; 
and,  had  he  been  even  guilty  of  treason,  his  situation  was  such  as  ought 
to  have  saved  him  from  punishment.  Fifteen  years  of  lonely  imprison- 
ment had  efiectually  blighted  his  moral  being.  "  He  was,"  says  one  his- 
torian, ''  a  very  innocent.''^    Another  contemporary  writer  says  of  hiin« 

'  Holinshed. 




^' Being  kept  for  fifteen  years,  without  company  of  men,  or  sight  of 
heasts,  he  conld  not  discern  a  goose  from  a  capon/""^  But  there  was 
more  than  unjustifiable  murder  in  the  deed,  foul  as  it  was.  '*  The  ex* 
tinction  of  such  a  harmless  and  joyless  life,"  says  Mackintosh,  ^  in  de- 
fiance of  justice,  and  in  the  &.ce  of  mankind,  is  a  deed  which  should 
seem  to  be  incapable  of  aggrayation ;  but  the  motives  of  this  merciless 
murder,  the  base  interests  to  which  the  victim  was  sacrificed,  and  the 
horrible  coolness  of  the  two  veteran  tyrants  who  devised  the  crime,  are 
aggravations  perhaps  without  parallel.  Henry  had  been  for  some  time 
engaged  in  a  negotiation  for  the  marriage  of  Arthur,  his  eldest  son, 
with  Catherine,  infeinta  of  Spain.  In  the  course  of  the  personal  corres- 
pondence between  the  two  monarchs^ — these  two  kings  understanding 
each  other  at  half  a  word, — ^there  were  letters  shown  out  of  Spain, 
whereby,  in  the  passages  concerning  the  treaty  of  marriage,  Ferdinand 
had  written  to  Henry  in  plain  terms,  that  he  saw  no  assurance  of  the 
succession  as  long  as  the  Earl  of  Warwick  lived,  and  that  he  was  loath 
to  send  his  daughter  to  troubles  and  dangers." 

BORN  A.  D.  1462. — ^DI£D  A.  D.  1510. 

This  able,  but  infamous  man,  was  the  son  of  Sir  John  Dudley,  and 
was  born  in  1462.  He  studied  at  Oxford,  and  afterwards  removed  to 
Gray's  inn,  where  he  attained  to  such  distinguished  professional  emi- 
nence and  general  reputation  that  he  was  introduced  to  the  king's  privy 
council  in  his  23d  year.  In  1492,  he  was  employed  in  negotiating  for 
peace  with  France,  and  he  was  one  of  those  who,  in  1499,  signed  the 
ratification  of  a  treaty  with  that  country, — a  circumstance  which  sufli- 
ciently  indicates  how  well  he  stood  in  Henry's  good  graces  at  this 
time.  The  means  by  which  the  cunning  lawyer  courted  the  royal  fa- 
vour, were  of  a  most  disgraceful  kind.  It  was  by  carefully  noting  and 
ministering  to  Henry's  cupidity,  that  both  Dudley  and  his  companion 
in  in&my,  Empson,  raised  themselves  to  that  pride  of  place  from  which 
they  were  doomed  to  be  so  suddenly  precipitated  at  last.  To  gratify 
the  royal  passion  a  system  of  extortion  wa«  employed,  "  which,"  says 
,  Bacon,  "  the  people, — into  whom  there  is  infused,  for  the  preservation 
of  monarchies,  a  natural  desire  to  discharge  their  princes,  though  it  be 
with  the  unjust  charge  of  their  counsellors, — did  impute  unto  Cardinal 
Morton,  and  Sir  Reginald  Bray,  who,  as  it  after  appeared,  as  counsel- 
lors of  ancient  authority  with  him,  did  so  second  his  humours,  as  never- 
theless they  did  temper  them,  whereas,  Empson  and  Dudley,  that  fol- 
lowed, being  persons  that  had  no  reputation,  with  him,  otherwise  than 
by  the  servile  following  of  his  bent,  did  not  give  way  only  as  the  first 
did,  but  shaped  his  way  to  those  extremities  for  which  himself  was 
touched  with  remorse  at  his  death."  "  They  were  bold  men,"  he  adds, 
^'and  careless  of  fieime,  and  that  took  toll  for  their  master's  grist. 
Dudley  was  of  good  family,  eloquent,  and  one  that  could  put  hateful 
business  into  good  language;  but  Empson,  that  was  the  son  of  a 
sieve-maker,  triumphed  always  in  the  deed  done,  putting  off  all  other 
respects  whatsoever.     These  two  persons  being  lawyers  in  science,  and 

2  Hall. 

Pbriod.]  EDMUND  DUDLEY.  19 

privy  counsellors  in  autbonty,  turned  law  and  justice  into  worm* 
vood  and  rapine.  For,  first,  their  manner  was  to  cause  divers  subjects 
to  be  indicted  for  sundry  crimes,  and  so  £ir  forth  to  proceed  in  form  of 
law ;  but,  when  the  bilk  were  found,  then  presently  to  commit  them ; 
and,  nevertheless,  not  to  produce  them  in  any  reasonable  time  to  their 
answer,  but  to  suffer  them  to  languish  long  in  prison,  and,  by  sundry 
artificial  devices  and  terrors,  to  extort  from  them  great  fines  and  ran- 
soms, which  they  termed  compositions  and  mitigations.  Neither  did 
they^  towards  the  end,  observe  so  much  as  the  half  face  of  justices  in 
proceeding  by  indictment,  but  sent  forth  their  precepts  to  attack  meiv 
and  convent  them  before  themselves  and  some  others,  at  their  private 
houses,  in  a  court  of  commission ;  and  there  used  to  shufBe  up  a  sum- 
mary proceeding,  by  examination,  without  trial  of  jury,  assuming  to 
themselves  there  to  deal  both  in  pleas  of  the  crown  and  controversies 
civiL  Then  did  they  also  use  to  enthral  and  charge  the  subjects'  lands 
with  tenures  in  eapitey  by  finding  false  offices,  and  thereby  to  work  upon 
them  by  wardships,  liveries,  premier  seisins,  and  alienations,  being  the 
fruits  of  those  tenures ;  refusing  upon  divers  pretexts  and  delays,  to 
admit  men  to  traverse  those  false  offices  according  to  law.  Nay,  the 
king  s  wards,  after  they  had  accomplished  their  full  age,  could  not  be 
sufiered  to  have  livery  of  their  lands,  without  paying  excessive  fines, 
fiir  exceeding  all  reasonable  rates.  They  did  also  vex  men  with  infor- 
mations of  intrusion  upon  scarce  colourable  titles.  When  men  were 
outlawed  in  personal  actions,  they  would  not  permit  them  to  purchase 
their  charters  of  pardon,  except  they  paid  great  and  intolerable  sums, 
standing  upon  the  strict  point  of  law,  which,  upon  outlawries,  giveth  for- 
feiture of  goods  :  nay,  contrary  to  all  law  and  colour,  they  maintained 
the  king  ought  to  have  the  haJf  of  men's  lands  and  rents,  during  the 
space  of  full  two  years,  for  a  pain,  in  case  of  outlawry.  They  would 
also  niffle  with  jurors,  and  enforce  them  to  find  as  they  would  direct ; 
and,  if  they  did  not,  convent  them,  imprison  them,  and  fine  them." 

In  the  parliament  held  in  1504,  Dudley  was  speaker  of  the  house  of 
commons.  By  Henry's  will  he  was  appointed  along  with  sixteen 
others— ^amongst  whom  was  his  socius  criminis  Empson — one  of  the  exa- 
miners who  were  to  make  inquisition  into  such  matters  as  they  in  their 
conscience  should  limit  Henry's  will  might  stand  charged  with,  and  to 
make  restoration  and  recompense  to  all  aggrieved  parties ;  these  two 
personages  were  also  named  amongst  Henry's  executors,  so  that  they  must 
have  contrived  to  retain  their  footing  in  Henry *s  esteem  to  the  very 
last.  But  that  monarch  was  scarcely  in  his  grave,  when  both  Dudley 
and  Empson  were  sent  to  the  tower,  in  order  to  appease  the  popiUar 
clamour  against  them.  At  first  it  was  intended  to  bring  them  to  trial 
only  for  '*  passing  the  bounds  of  their  commission,  and  for  stretching 
laws  in  themselves  very  severe;"  but  when  it  became  evident  that 
nothing  short  of  a  capital  conviction  would  satisfy  the  nation  at  large  in 
the  case  of  two  such  notorious  offenders,  it  was  judged  proper  to  indict 
them  for  a  conspiracy,  during  the  last  illness  of  Henry,  to  seize  on  Lon- 
don with  an  armed  force,  and  to  assume  the  powers  of  government  as 
soon  as  the  king's  decease  was  known.  Of  this  conspiracy,  Dudley  was 
convicted  at  London,  on  the  16th  of  July  1509,  and  Empson,  at 
Northampton,  on  the  1st  of  October.  Stow  inf^irms  us  that  the  king 
was  inclined  to  pardon  them,  and  that  a  rumour  prevailed,  that  Queen 

20  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foueth 

Catharine  had  effectually  interceded  for  Dudley.  It  is  certain  that  the 
delinquents  were  suffered  to  remain  in  jail  till  the  month  of  August  in 
the  following  year,  when  the  king,  yielding  to  the  general  demand  foi 
their  execution,  ordered  them  to  be  beheaded  upon  Towerhill,  which 
was  accordingly  done  on  the  18th  of  August,  1510.  With  regard  to 
the  specific  charge  for  which  they  suffered,  there  appears  no  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  crime  alleged  against  these  delinquents ;  and,  as  Mackin- 
tosh observes,  **  the  speedy  revisal  of  the  attainders,  on  the  petitions  of 
their  sons,  seems  to  show  the  general  belief  of  the  groundlessness  of  the 
charge  of  conspiracy.  Still  the  manner  in  which,  in  defiance  of  all 
equity  and  justice,  they  had  minbtered  to  the  avarice  of  the  deceased 
monarch  removed  them  from  all  sympathy ;  and  no  one  felt  or  pronoun- 
ced their  doom  to  be  hard  and  unmerited." 

During  his  imprisonment  in  the  tower,  and  perhaps  with  a  view  to 
obtain  a  favourable  consideration  of  his  case  from  the  new  sovereign, 
Dudley  wrote  and  addressed  to  the  king  a  very  extraordinary  piece, 
entitled  ^  The  Tree  of  the  Commonwealth.'  The  contents  of  this  treatise 
are,  in  the  author's  own  words,  **  First,  remembrance  of  God  and  the 
faithful  of  his  holy  church,  in  the  which  every  Christian  prince  had  need 
to  begin.  Secondly,  of  some  conditions  and  demeanours  necessary  in 
every  prince,  both  for  his  honour  and  assurety  of  his  continuance. 
Thirdly,  of  the  Tree  of  the  Commonwealth,  which  teacheth  people  of 
every  degree,  of  the  condition  and  demeanours  they  should  be  of.'* 
This  book  never  reached  the  king's  hands,  nor  was  it  ever  published, 
bat  several  copies  of  it  exist  in  manuscript.^ 

BORN  A.  D.  1491. — DIED  A.  D.   1547. 

On  the  death  of  Henry  VII.  in  April  1509,  the  prince,  in  whom  the 
hereditary  claims  of  his  father  and  mother  were  combined,  succeeded,  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  to  the  English  throne.  The  accession  of  the  youth- 
ful, handsome,  and  accomplished  Henry,  gave  great  satisfaction  in  the 
nation,^  which  had  so  long  felt  the  oppression  of  a  rapacious  monarch, 
in  whose  title,  at  the  same  time,  a  party  in  the  country  seemed  little  in- 
clined to  acquiesce.  Bishop  Fox,  an  active  counsellor  of  the  late  king, 
had  been  recommended  by  him  to  his  son  and  successor,  and  now  be- 
came secretary  and  privy-seal.  But  the  earl  of  Surrey  proved  more 
accommodating  than  the  bishop  to  Henry's  taste  for  magnificence  and 
pleasure,  and  the  court  became  eminent  for  gaiety  and  the  martial 
amusements  of  the  time.  After  the  execution  of  Empson  and  Dud- 
ley, the  rapacious  ministers  of  the  late  king,  Henry  joined  in  a  war 
against  France  with  Pope  Julius  II.,  who  sent  him  an  anointed  rose  on 
the  occasion.  His  father-in-law,  Ferdinand  of  Spain,  was  engaged  in 
the  same  cause,  and  gave  him  instructions  as  to  the  mode  of  making  an 
attack  on  the  neighbouring  country.  But  the  Spanish  monarch  appear- 
ing to  the  marquess  of  Dorset,  who  commanded  Henry's  troops,  dis- 

■  Biog.  Brit. 
'  Hwrb^rty  apud  K«))n«i«  vol.  iii.  p.  1. 

posed  to  use  them  in  an  interested  manner,  and  the  English  soldiers 
having  mutinied,  the  army  returned  to  England.  It  proved  difficult, 
however,  to  satisfy  Henry,  still  perhaps  a  novice  in  the  arts  of  politics, 
of  the  propriety  of  Dorset's  conduct ;  and,  after  the  death  of  Pope  Ju- 
lius, and  the  accession  of  the  illustrious  Leo  X.  in  1519,  he  engaged  in 
another  enterprise  against  France,  notwithstanding  the  close  alliance 
of  Scotland  with  the  country  he  intended  to  attack.  Besides  a  naval 
entexprise,  under  the  command  of  Sir  Edward  Howard,  and  afterwards 
of  Lord  Howard,  an  army  was  prepared,  amounting  to  14,000  men ; 
and  having  directed  the  earl  of  Suffolk  to  be  beheaded,  and  leaving  the 
kingdom  under  the  protection  of  the  queen,  Henry,  along  with  many 
of  his  nobles,  sailed  for  France,  eager,  perhaps,  in  the  martial  spirit  ol 
the  time,  to  join  the  wreath  of  personal  achievement  to  the  honours  of 
a  hereditary  crown.  He  had  also  contributed  supplies  for  levying  an 
army  on  the  continent.  Maximilian,  emperor  of  Germany,  fiiiled  of 
collecting  the  number  of  troops  for  which  he  had  engaged,  but  put 
himself  as  an  officer  in  the  army  of  the  English  king.  Henry  gained 
at  Guinegate  the  celebrated  battle  of  Spurs,  and  on  this,  obtained  by 
surrender  the  wealthy  city  of  Toumay,  to  which  he  had  laid  siege. 
Although,  after  the  latter  event,  the  king  returned  home,  his  anger  was 
excited  when  he  heard  that  Ferdinand  and  Maximilian  had  made  peace 
with  France,  and  that  the  former  even  proposed  a  matrimonial  alliance 
with  its  royal  house  for  his  own  son,  to  whom  Henry  had  looked  as  the 
future  husband  of  Mary,  his  favourite  sister.  But,  on  the  representa- 
tions of  the  duke  of  Longueville,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  at  the 
battle  of  Spurs,  a  negotiation  ended  in  England  making  peace  with 
France,  and  in  Henry's  sister  being  married  to  the  king  of  that  coun- 
try, who  died,  however,  soon  after  his  marriage  with  the  princess,  which 
occurred  in  October,  1514.  Henry  had  also,  the  year  before,  made 
peace  with  Scotland,  the  war  with  that  country  ending  with  the  cele- 
brated victory  gained  at  Flodden,  by  the  earl  of  Surrey,  in  September, 
1513,  over  the  Scottish  army  under  James  IV. 

Cardinal  Wolsey  had  now  for  a  considerable  time  been  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  councils  of  the  English  king;  and  in  our  memoir  of  that 
extraordinary  man  we  shall  have  a  fitting  opportunity  for  exhibiting  some 
of  the  principal  events  in  Henry's  reign  a  little  more  in  detail ;  for  it 
has  been  justly  observed,  that  ^*  the  history  of  England,  from  1512  to 
1519,  is  nothing  more  than  the  history  of  Wolsey 's  insatiable  ambition.**' 
The  death  of  Maximilian  in  January,  1519,  was  followed  by  a  compe- 
tition on  the  part  of  the  kings  of  France  and  Spain  for  the  imperial  va- 
cancy. In  June,  Charles  of  Spain  was  elected ;  but,  about  the  middle 
of  1520,  both  of  these  princes  sought  an  interview  with  Henry,  whose 
greatness  as  a  monarch,  and  accomplishments  as  a  man,  rendered  him 
not  altogether  unfit  to  be  a  personsd  and  political  associate  of  Charles 
and  Francb,  however  inferior  he  may  have  been  to  the  former  in  power 
and  prudence,  and  in  literary  enthusiasm  and  liberal  patronage  to  the 
latter,  in  whose  arms,  this  very  year,  the  illustrious  painter,  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  died.  Charles,  on  his  way  to  the  Low  countries,  paid  Henr}* 
a  visit  in  England,  and  shortly  afterwards,  Henry  visited  the  emperor 

'  So  called,  it  is  supposed,  from  the  use  which  was  made  of  their  spurs  on  the  occop 
sion  by  the  French  cavalry,  who  were  panic-struck,  itad  took  to  flight     Herbert,  p.  16. 
'  Roscue's  Lives  of  Briti^  Statesmen. 

22  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fousth 

at  Qiayelines*  On  the  30th  of  May,  the  English  king,  with  his  qneen 
and  oourt,  set  oat  to  Calais  to  meet  with  the  king  of  Franco ;  thenoe 
he  proceeded  to  Guisnes,  and  between  that  town  and  Ardres,  whither 
Francis  came  for  the  meeting  with  Henry,  the  two  monarchs  met  in 
Iriendly  conference,  on  a  scene  which,  from  the  magnificence  of  the  oc- 
casion, obtained  the  name  of  '  the  Field  of  the  cloth  of  gold/  The 
cautious  formality  of  their  mutual  visits  was  at  last  broken  by  Francis, 
mudi  to  the  satisfaction,  it  appeared,  of  the  English  king.  On  this 
occasion,  the  two  monarchs  made  affectionate  presents  to  each  other, 
and  they  afterwards  joined  in  tilts  and  tournaments.  A  slight  circum- 
stance, represented  as  an  instance  of  delicacy  on  ibe  part  of  the  English 
king  in  the  course  of  this  visit  to  Francis,  may  be  noticed  as  a  becom- 
ing incident  in  a  life  too  remarkable  for  coarse  and  offensive  exhibitions. 
When  Henry  and  Francis  reviewed  a  treaty  into  which  they  had  mu- 
tually entered,  the  English  monarch,  in  reading  it  aloud,  after  uttering 
the  words,  ^  I,  Henry,  king'* — stopped  short,  and  adding — "  of  Eng« 
land,"  omitted  the  addition  **  of  France,"  which  kings  of  England  hswd 
been  wont  to  use. 

But  the  bond  of  union  between  Henry  and  Francis  was  not  perma- 
nently  formed.  It  appears  that  the  latter  declined  to  acquiesce  in  the 
decision  of  the  English  king  respecting  the  election  of  the  emperor, 
and  also  sent  the  duke  of  Albany,  to  whose  power  in  Scotland  Henry 
was  opposed,  into  that  country,  in  which  he  exercised  the  regency. 
On  these  alleged  grounds,  Henry  declared  war  against  Francis  in  1522  ; 
and  the  following  year,  he  sent  an  army  into  Scotland,  where  the  war 
terminated  in  the  final  departure  of  Albany.  In  his  own  country, 
Francis  maintained  his  ground,  but  making  an  invasion  on  Italy,  and 
losing  the  battle  of  Pavia,  surrendered  his  person  to  the  adherents  of 
the  emperor.  Henry  had  been  an  ally  of  Charles  in  the  war,  but  he 
and  Wolsey  entertained  some  dissatis^tion  towards  him,  and  the  king 
of  England  now  sent  to  Spain  making  demand  of  a  debt  alleged  to  be 
due  by  Charles,  who,  on  his  part,  expressed  displeasure  at  certain  in- 
stances of  Henry's  remissness  in  the  war.  Henry  £dso  entered  into  an 
alliance  with  the  mother  of  Francis,  now  regent, — ^in  April,  1527,  he 
joined  the  king  of  France  himself  in  sending  ambassadors  to  Charles, 
requiring  him,  on  payment  of  2,000,000  crowns,  to  deliver  up  the  chil- 
dren of  Francis,  who  had  been  given  as  their  father's  ransom,  and  to 
pay  his  debt  to  the  English  king, — and,  in  September,  entered  into  an 
agreement  with  France,  in  which  was  renounced  the  English  claim  to 
the  government  of  France. 

Henry,  who  had  taken  so  prominent  a  part  in  the  political  commo- 
tions of  the  continent,  had  given  attention  also  to  the  theological  con- 
vulsion which  had  taken  place  in  Germany,  and  had  even  written  n 
work  against  Luther,  which  that  Reformer  sharply  answered,  but 
which  earned  for  its  royal  author  from  Leo  X.  the  title  of  '  Defender 
of  the  Faith.'*  These  circumstances  seem  as  if  likely  to  have  proved 
the  auguries  of  Henry's  close  and  permanent  connexion  with  the  papal 
see.  But  the  characteristic  ardour  which  embarked  the  king  in  the 
defence  of  Romish  doctrines,  disposed  him,  under  the  influence  of  di- 
recting circumstances,  to  contend  the  more  warmly  against  Romish 

4  Ryin,  p.  766, 

PsBiOD.]  HENBY  Vm.  SS 

power ;  and  it  happens  that  the  separation  of  Enghmd  from  the  supre* 
macy  of  the  pope — that  great  event  in  her  national  annals — ^is  identified 
with  the  private  passions  of  the  same  orthodox  defender  of  the  £uth. 
Queen  Catharine  having  heen  the  wife  of  Arthur,  Henry's  brother,  pre- 
viously to  her  marriage  with  the  king  himself,  an  objection  to  the  legi- 
timacy of  this  latter  union  had,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  been  pro- 
posed. It  appears  that  Henry's  fiivourite  author,  Thomas  Aquinas, 
had  objected  to  marriage  between  such  near  relations  as  he  and  Ca- 
tharine had  been.  A  similar  view,  the  king  remarked,  was  entertained 
by  his  confessor.  All  the  English  prelates  too,  except  Fisher,  bishop 
of  Rochester,  agreed  that  the  marriage  was  unlawful.  And  to  crown 
all,  Anne  Boleyn,  a  maid  of  honour  to  Catharine  herself,  about  this 
time  attracted  the  ixncy  of  the  king.  For  his  marriage  with  Catharine 
a  papal  dispensation  had  been  formerly  obtained.  In  this,  however,  it 
is  alleged,  there  were  flaws  of  such  a  kind  that,  by  the  rules  of  the 
papal  court,  it  might  be  recalled.  Henry  applied  to  Pope  Clement  VII. 
for  a  divorce.  The  latter  was  now  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  Charles 
v.,  but  access  to  him  was  obtained,  and  his  holiness  expressed  a  willing- 
ness  to  agree  to  Henry's  wish.  When  at  length  he  had  obtained  his 
liberty,  he  still  remained  under  the  influence  of  Charles,  and  even 
showed  less  readiness  in  granting  the  English  king's  request.  At  last, 
however,  Clement  gave  secret  instructions  for  having  the  validity  of  the 
royal  marriage  inquired  into.  But  Henry's  counsellors  advised  their 
master  not  to  act  on  this  uncertain  and  underhand  permission,  and  in 
February  1528,  Stephen  Gardiner  and  Edward  Fox,  were  despatched  to 
Rome  to  obtain  security,  if  possible,  for  the  pope's  adherence  to  the  de~ 
oision  of  the  commission  to  whom  he  had  given  authority  to  inquire  into 
the  matter.  Clement  renewed  his  commission  to  Wolsey,  with  whom  he 
now  joined  Cardinal  Campeggio,  an  adherent  of  his  own.  The  latter 
came  to  England  in  October,  and  although  he  at  first  attempted  to  get 
the  scheme  of  a  divorce  suppressed,  he  sought  to  gratify  the  king,  and 
even  showed  at  court  a  papal  bull  for  annulling  the  marriage  with  the 
queen, — Sk  document,  however,  which  Campeggio,  in  the  course  of  events, 
was  directed  to  destroy.  On  the  31st  of  May,  1529,  the  papal  com- 
mission proceeded  to  the  trial  of  the  cause,  and  the  royal  parties  ap- 
peared before  them.  At  the  opening  of  the  court,  Catharine  fell  at 
Henry's  feet,  and  made  a  pathetic  expostulation  with  him  on  his  con- 
duct in  wishing  to  be  divided  from  his  tried  and  £a.ithful  queen.  She 
then  rose  and  retired.  The  king  admitted  her  fidelity  before  the  cardi- 
nals, and  gave  a  statement  of  bis  reasons  for  seeking  a  divorce.  The 
queen  was  again  summoned  to  appear :  but  she  had  appealed  to  Rome, 
and  did  not  answer  to  the  citation  of  the  court.  It  pronounced  her 
contumacious,  and  proceeded  to  examine  evidence  on  the  matter  of  de- 
bate. The  court  was  prorogued  until  the  beginning  of  October,  but 
at  that  time  the  cause  was  called  to  Rome  in  order  to  be  tried — a 
measure  for  securing  which  the  queen  had  received  the  emperor's  sup- 
port. Now  began  Wolsey's  overthrow.  There  is  reason  to  ^*' 
that  he  was  more  cautious  and  less  vigorous  in  gratifying  the  \ 
passions  of  the  king,  than  suited  the  inclination  of  his  n:^^*"®.  ^^  ^ 
master,  and  his  favourite  Anne  Boleyn,  were  offended  b  related  at 
respecting  an  object  in  which  both  had  such  a  tender  i' 
is  not  without  reason  that,  in  speaking  of  this  subject 

24  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foukth 

marks — ^constant  experience  eyinoea  bow  nrelj  a  high  confidence 
and  affection  receiyes  the  least  diminution,  without  sinking  into  abso- 
lute indifference  or  eyen  running  into  the  opposite  extreme."  In  Octo- 
ber, Wolsey  was  depriyed  of  the  great  seal, — ^he  was  eyen  banished  from 
his  house  in  London.  Soon  thereafter  the  king  appeared  in  some 
measure  to  relent,  and  sent  him  a  ring  in  token  of  regard.  After  hia 
trial  and  condemnation,  both  in  the  Star  chamber  and  in-  parliament, 
Henry  granted  him  a  pardon,  and  eyen  after  Wolsey's  death,  appears 
to  have  done  honour  to  his  memory.  Nor  surely  is  it  to  be  wondered 
at  that  eyen  in  the  selfish  heart  of  Henry,  some  gleams  still  lingered  of 
the  light  which  he  had,  perhi^s  too  liberally,  east  around  the  footsteps 
of  his  fifcyourite.  Yet  after  all,  it  was  when  under  arrest  on  a  charge  of 
high  treason,  founded  apparently  on  Wolsey's  opposition  to  the  king's 
continued  efforts  at  obtaining  a  diyorce,  that  in  November,  1530,  tlus 
proud  cardinal, — not  to  say  with  the  chamberlain  in  Shakspeare,  '^  this 
bold,  bad  man," — expired.  In  connexion  with  the  history  of  his  royal 
master,  he  stands  a  memorable  witness  not  only  of  the  instability  of 
earthly  greatness,  but  of  the  passionate  energy  of  Henry's  mind,  feeling 
and  assuming  it  as  its  own  prerogatiye,  alike  immeasurably,  to  give  or 
to  withdraw  its  favour : 

Fone,  meum  est,  inquit — ^pono  tristlsqne  recedo. 

About  the  time  when  the  cause  of  Henry  and  his  queen  was  with- 
drawn to  the  papal  court,  the  former  agreed  to  certain  proyisions  for 
the  regulation  of  the  clergy,  passed  by  parliament,  which  also,  profess- 
edly on  account  of  the  king's  attention  and  liberality  towards  the  nation, 
discharged  him  from  the  debts  he  had  contracted  since  his  accession  to 
the  throne.  Besides  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  nation  seems  to 
have  been  disposed  to  support  him  in  his  aim  at  pk  divorce,  it  was  with 
great  satisfaction  that  he  receiyed  the  suggestion  of  Dr.  Thomas  Cranmer, 
that  he  should  apply  for  the  opinions  of  the  nniyersities  of  Europe,  re- 
specting the  yalidity  of  the  marriage.^  The  suggestion  was  adopted, 
and  it  is  only  fair,  perhaps,  to  grant  that  his  &.yourable  inclination 
towards  the  plan  appears  to  indicate  that  he  was  not  without  a  real 
misgiying  respecting  the  lawfulness  of  his  union  with  the  queen.  The 
universities  were  in  his  favour,  as  also  the  conyocations  of  Canterbury 
and  York.  A  letter  of  the  nobility  to  his  holiness  even  ventured  to 
warn  him  that  he  might  find  it  dangerous  to  refuse  agreement  to  the 
proposal  of  the  king.  The  latter  sent  reasons,  by  Anne  Boleyn's 
father,  who  had  now  been  created  Earl  of  Wiltshire,  for  declining  to 
appear  by  proxy,  according  to  the  summons  of  the  pope ;  and  it  is  re- 
marked, that  the  earl  declined  to  kiss  the  foot  of  his  holiness.  By  the 
conyocation  which  met  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1531,  and  in  which 
the  ecclesiastics  who  had  submitted  to  the  legantine  court  of  Wolsey, 
condemned  by  this  time  as  unlawful,  agreed  to  purchase  a  pardon  of 
cf^enry,  the  king  was  pronounced  'Head  of  the  church  of  England.*® 
the  aufftf/^S  importuned  by  the  commons,  '  from  his  own  goodness,*  as 
see.  But  tP^^^®^®^>  ^®  pardoned  the  laity  for  their  submission  to 
defence  of  R^'  ^^^  following  year  an  act  was  passed,  for  withholding 
«*ptinff  circun^^  Rome  the  first-fruits,  which  had  been  accustomed  to 

',  vol.  xiv.  p.  890. — ^Burnet.  •  Burnet. 

Pkhiodo  henby  vni.  26 

be  paid ;  power,  however,  being  left  with  the  king  to  saspend  the  law, 
if  he  should  please.  This  was  a  bold  stroke  at  the  long-established 
authority  of  the  pope ;  and  such  was  Henry's  disposition  towards  the 
papal  power,  that  it  now  lost  him  the  services,  as  lord  chancellor,  of  that 
accomplished  scholar,  bat  bigotted  Romanist,  Sir  Thomas  More.  The 
king  continued  to  decline  appearing,  by  proxy,  before  his  holiness, 
alleging  the  insufficiency  of  a  proxy  to  represent  him  in  this  matter  of 
conscience,  and  the  danger  of  permitting  appeals  to  be  carried  from  his 
own  kingdom — the  doing  of  which,  in  cases  of  matrimony  and  other 
ecclesiastical  causes,  was  prohibited,  the  following  year,  by  act  of 
parliament.  After  the  private  celebration  of  a  marriage  with  Anne 
Boleyn,  who  had  now  been  created  marchioness  of  Pembroke,  the  king 
publicly  acknowledged  the  union,  in  April,  1533.  Soon  thereafter 
Anne  was  crowned,  and,  7th  September,  was  delivered  of  a  daughter. 
The  marriage  had  been  previously  confirmed  by  Cranmer,  now  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  who  had  also,  after  an  examination  of  the  previous 
one  with  Catharine,  declared  the  latter  to  be  invalM,  and  who  now,  at 
the  desire  of  the  king,  stood  god&ther  to  the  royal  infant. 

Henry,  before  his  marriage  with  Anne,  had  held  an  interview  with 
the  king  of  France,  on  the  cause  at  issue.  That  prince  made  an  at- 
tempt to  mediate  between  his  holiness  and  the  English  king,  and  Henry 
agreed  to  submit  his  cause  to  the  court  at  Home,  if  the  cardinal,  at- 
tached to  the  emperor,  Catharine's  brother,  should  be  excluded.  But 
his  written  promise  on  the  subject  being  detained  beyond  the  time  pre- 
scribed, and  a  report  having  gone  to  Italy  that  ridicule  had  been  cast 
on  the  pope  and  cardinals  in  a  ludicrous  exhibition  represented  before 
the  English  king,  the  consistory,  23d  March,  1534,  declared  Catharine 
to  be  Henry's  lawful  wife,  and  the  king  excommunicated,  should  he 
refuse  obedience  to  the  decision  of  the  court.  This  was  a  decisive  step 
on  the  part  of  Home,  and  similarly  decisive  was  the  conduct  of  the 
king  and  his  obedient  parliament.  This  year  he  received  the  title  of 
*Only  supreme  head  on  earth  of  the  church  of  England;'^  the  autho- 
rity of  the  pope,  who  had  issued  bulls^  however,  for  Cranmer  s  appoint- 
ment to  the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury,  was  annulled,  and  the 
succession  was  removed  from  Mary,  Henry's  daughter  by  Catharine, 
and  settled  on  the  issue  of  the  new  queen.  Severity  was  resorted  to, 
in  euforcement  of  the  innovation  respecting  the  supremacy :  for  their 
resistance  to  which.  Bishop  Fisher  and  Sir  Thomas  More  were  brought 
to  trial,  condenmed  and  Executed,  in  1535.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
following  year,  Catharine — to  whom  the  king  had  given  the  title  of 
princess-dowager  of  Wales,  and  from  whom  he  had  ordered  the  honours 
appropiriate  to  royalty  to  be  withheld — died  at  Kimbolton,  after  a  lin- 
gering! illness.  Shortly  before  her  death  she  had  written  a  letter  to  the 
king,  {expressing  forgiveness  and  affection,  and  commending  their 
daughter  Mary  to  his  kindness, — a  document  by  which  the  king  is  said 
to  hav^e  been  moved  to  tears,  though  Anne,  who  was  shortly  after  de- 
livere<jt  of  a  still-born  son,  is  represented  as  expressing  pleasure  on 
occasi6p  of  her  rival's  death. 

Butj'the  year  which  opened  on  the  death-bed  of  Catharine  was  to 
dose  Cfver  the  grave  of  Anne,  whose  melancholy  fate  will  be  related  at 

»  260  Henry  VIII.  c.  i.  3. 

26  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fousth 

length,  In  onr  memoir  of  that  unfortunate  woman.  Henry  had  fixed 
his  affections  on  another  lady,^  Jane  Seymour,  a  maid  of  honour  to  the 
queen.  Anne  was  beheaded  on  the  19th  of  May,— another  victim  to 
the  impetuous  passions  of  the  man  whom,  almost  inmiediately  before 
her  death,  she  called  *  a  most  merciful  and  gentle  prince.'  With  dis* 
gusting  want  of  decency,  he,  next  day,  consummated  a  marriage  with 
Jane  Seymour,  which  he  represented  to  parliament  as  entered  into  for 
their  benefit  They  confirmed  the  divorce  from  Anne,  and  set  aside 
the  claim  of  the  issue  of  the  marriage  with  that  unfortunate  queen,  as 
well  as  of  the  previous  one  with  Catharine,  to  the  succession,  which  was 
settled  on  Henry's  children  by  Jane  Seymour.  They  also  increased 
his  personal  prerogative,  continuing  that  course  of  accordance  with 
Plenry's  capricious  will  which  marked  the  proceedings  of  his  parlia- 
ments. The  king  had  by  this  time  suppressed  the  monasteries  whose 
annual  revenues  were  under  £200,  the  property  of  which  was  transferred 
to  the  king.  But,  according  to  the  image  of  Bishop  Fisher,  in  speaking 
of  the  subject,  '*  the  axe  had  got  a  handle,  and  proceeded  to  cut  down 
the  cedars."  Notwithstanding  a  revolt  both  in  Lincolnshire  and  in  the 
north  of  England,  one  of  the  grounds  of  which  was  Henry's  conduct  in 
reference  to  the  monastic  houses,  he  now  betook  himself,  with  the  rude 
energy  by  which  his  character  is  marked,  to  the  suppression  of  the 
greater  ones,  in  which,  as  well  as  in  the  others,  great  immorality 
appears  to  have  been  practised.  The  annual  revenue  accruing  to  the 
crown,  from  the  multitude  of  monasteries  and  other  ecclesiastical  houses 
suppressed  by  Henry,  amounted  to  upwards  of  £160,000.'  The  pro- 
ceeding was  a  very  bold,  and  perhaps  an  unadvised,  one ;  but  a  pro- 
portion of  the  revenue  was  granted  by  the  king  towards  erecting 
bishoprics,  and  forming  pensions  for  abbots  and  priors,  deprived,  by 
the  suppression,  of  their  former  income.  His  favourites  abo  shared  in 
the  spoil;  he  sold  or  exchanged  on  terms  disadvantageous  to  the 
crown;  and  he  is  said  to  have  paid  a  cook,  who  pleased  him  by  .a 
pudding,  with  the  revenue  of  a  convent.  I 

But  Henry  had  not  renounced  the  theological  doctrines  of  the  Komish 
church  along  with  the  supremacy  of  its  acknowledged  head.  Persons 
maintaining  articles  of  the  reformed  faith  were  even  subjected  to  severe 
persecutions,  and  when  the  king,  in  1535,  requested  a  visit  from  Me- 
lancthon  and  others  of  the  foreign  reformers,  it  was  intimated  to  ^im, 
that  his  severity  to  Protestants  destroyed  his  claim  to  be  considered  a 
sound  Protestant  prince.  That  year,  however,  Coverdale's  translation 
of  the  Bible  was  published,  with  a  dedication  to  the  king,  and,  inj  1536. 
it  was  ordered  to  be  used  in  churches.  About  the  same  time,  the  con- 
vocation framed  a  body  of  theological  articles,  in  some  degree  inclining 
to  the  protestant  belief,  though  not  without  a  considerable  proportion 
of  the  Romish  creed.  In  1538,  Henry  aimed  at  a  union  wi^h  the 
German  Protestants,  and  in  the  following  year  was  published  a  new 
translation  of  the  Bible,  undertaken,  some  years  before,  by  the  convo- 
cation of  the  church,  notwithstanding  the  publication  of  Tindal's  im- 
proved version,  which  was  rejected  by  the  ecclesiastics  as  not  sufficiently 
correct.     On  the  title-page  of  the  new  translation,  the  king,  according 

■  Herbei-t.  H. 
*  There  were  suppressed  in  thisreigii  6i5  monaiAerieSyliaTing  88  abbots  in  parliameiity 
00  colleges,  2,874  chapels  and  chantries,  110  hospitals. 

Pemod.]  henrt  vin.  27 

to  a  design  attribated  to  Hans  Holbein  as  represented  as  deliyering 
the  Bible  into  the  hands  of  Archbishop  Cranmer  and  of  Thomas  Crom- 
well, for  distribution — as  the  design  has  been  explained — among  the 
clergy  and  the  laitj.^^  The  reformer,  Tindal,  however,  had  suffered  at 
the  stake,  in  1536,  betrayed,  it  is  alleged,  to  the  procurator  of  the 
emperor  of  Qermany,  by  a  man  employed  by  Henry  and  his  council, 
and  had  died,  with  these  words  upon  his  lips — ''  Lord,  open  the  king 
of  England's  eyes!''  But  Henry  oontinue<l,  in  his  doctrinal  creed,  a 
Bomanist;  he  cautioned  the  people  respecting  the  use  of  the  new 
translation  of  the  Bible;  and,  in  1538,  he  even  met,  in  theol(»gical 
debate,  with  a  schoolmaster  of  the  name  of  Lambert,  with  whom  he 
entered  into  public  disputation,  at  Westminster,  respecting  the  real 
presence  in  the  eucharist,  and  who,  after  a  long  debate,  supported  by 
several  of  the  bishops,  was  sentenced  by  Thomas  Cromwell,  who  was 
soon  after  created  earl  of  Essex,  and  who,  on  this  occasion,  in  a  letter 
to  Sir  Thomas  Wyat,  thus  describes  the  part  taken  by  his  master,  in 
the  Interview  with  Lambert: — ''It  was  a  wonder  to  see  how  princely, 
with  how  excellent  gravity  and  inestimable  majesty,  his  highness  exer- 
cised there  the  very  office  of  supreme  head  of  the  church  of  England. 
How  benignly  his  grace  essayed  to  convert  the  miserable  man ;  how 
strong  and  manifest  reasons  his  highness  alleged  against  him.  I  wish 
the  princes  and  potentates  of  Christendom  to  have  had  a  meet  place  to 
have  seen  it.  Undoubtedly  they  should  have  much  marvelled  at  his 
majesty's  most  high  wisdom  and  judgment,  and  reputed  him  no  other- 
wise after  the  same,  than,  in  a  manner,  the  mirror  and  light  of  all  other 
kings  and  princes  in  Christendom."  The  Romish  doctrine  of  the  pre- 
sence in  the  eucharist  seems  to  have  been  one  of  which  Henry  was 
particularly  jealous ;  but,  in  1539,  it  was  combined  with  Qye  others  in 
the  celebrated  '  Six  Articles,*  called  by  protestants,  '  the  Bloody  bill,* 
which  parliament  passed,  in  conformity,  we  may  well  suppose,  to  the 
inclinations  of  the  king.  A  signal  monument  truly,  of  the  ''  benignity 
and  most  high  judgment  and  wisdom  "  of  this  ''  mirror  and  light  of  all 
other  kings  and  princes  in  Christendom  !"  The  other  articles  enforced 
by  this  in^Eimous  bill,  besides  the  real  presence^  were,  communion  in 
one  kind,  private  masses,  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy,  vows  of  chastity, 
and  auricular  confession.  For  the  trial  of  persons  accused  of  Protestant 
heresy  on  these  points  the  king  was  to  appoint  a  commission ;  and,  by 
the  same  parliament,  his  proclamation  was  ordained  to  have  the  force  of 
statute  laws.  The  'Six  Articles'  were  warmly  opposed  by  Archbishop 
Cranmer;  but  on  the  passing  of  the  bill,  he  sent  back  his  wife,  the 
daughter  of  a  foreign  protestant,  to  Germany,  and  retired  from  court. 
The  king,  however,  sent  Essex  and  Norfolk  to  condole  with  him. 

In  October,  1538,  on  the  birth  of  his  son.  Prince  Edward,  the  king 
had  lost  his  favourite  queen,  Jane  Seymour, — immediately  after  which 
event  he  bethought  himself  of  entering  into  another  marriage.  This 
was  effected,  sixth  January,  1 540,  with  Anne  of  Cleves,  but  in  circum- 
stances that  augured  little  for  the  matrimonial  happiness  of  either  of 
the  parties.     Henry  had  previously  set  his  affections  on  the  duchess* 

10  The  central  pert  of  the  desien  on  this  admired  title-page  has  been  copied  into  Mr 
Thomson's  lUnstrations  of  British  Histoiy,  voL  L.  and  is  animated  and  strildng.  On 
occasion  of  Qneen  Mark's  marriage  with  Phili];),  ner  father,  Heniy  YIII.,  was  publicly 
represented  with  a  Bible  m  hb  hand,  but  the  painter  was  directed  to  exchange  the  Bible 
€or  a  pair  of  glores. 


dowager  of  Longueville,  whom  he  found  to  be  betrothed  to  his  nephew, 
Jamei»  of  Scotland,  and  had  also  failed  of  inducing  the  king  of  France 
to  meet  him  at  Calais,  in  company  with  the  two  sisters  of  the  duchess, 
and  other  distinguished  ladies,  from  among  whom  he  proposed,  in  this 
way,  to  select  a  consort.  He  at  last  made  choice  of  a  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Cleves,  recommended  to  his  favour  by  a  portrait  of  her,  exe- 
cuted by  Hans  Holbein.  But  on  meeting  her  at  Rochester,  Henry  was 
disappointed  with  his  intended  queen.  It  was  thought  inexpedient, 
however,  to  break  off  the  matrimonial  scheme,  and  the  marriage  was 
consummated.  The  princess  had  been  proposed  to  the  king  by  Crom- 
well. Henry,  notwithstanding  his  disappointment,  continued  that 
minister  in  the  office  of  vicar-general.  But  on  the  28th  of  July,  1540, 
Essex,  lately  the  object  of  his  master's  patronage,  became,  by  his.  death, 
the  victim  of  his  master's  severity.  "  The  king's  wrath"  was  **  like 
arrows  of  death." 

But  Henry  had  now  another  measure  in  his  eye.  He  represented  a 
matrimonial  contract  as  having  passed  before  his  marriage,  between 
Anne  and  the  duke  of  Lorraine — a  scheme,  however,  which  appears  to 
have  been  annulled ;  and  he  also  declared  that  he  himself  had  failed  of 
an  inward  assent  to  his  union  with  Anne.  From  the  convocation  he 
obtained  a  divorce,  to  which  the  queen  herself,  with  prudence,  per- 
haps, if  not  with  dignity,  agreed ;  and  on  the  8th  of  August  he  was 
married  to  Catharine  Howard.  This  union  with  the  Catholic  house  of 
Norfolk  was  followed  by  a  severe  persecution  of  the  Protestants.  Per- 
sons of  the  other  party  also  suffered ;  and  shortly  before  the  marriage  of 
the  king,  one  of  those  tragical  deaths,  by  which,  in  the  course  of  his 
impetuous  career,  persons  of  illustrious  rank  and  character  were  pub- 
licly cut  off,  was  consummated  in  the  case  of  the  countess  of  Salisbury, 
mother  of  Cardinal  Pole — a  man  who,  by  birth  related  to  the  king,  had 
once  been  a  sharer  in  his  patronage  and  favour,  but  who,  supporting 
the  papal  court  in  the  cause  of  the  king's  divorce  from  Catharine,  and 
expressing  himself  in  terms  unfavourable  to  Henry,  had  incurred  his 
warm  displeasure,  and  encouraging,  it  seems,  a  party  against  Henry  in 
England,  to  which  the  countess,  naturally  enough,  belonged,  may  be 
said,  perhaps,  to  have  been  punished  in  the  person  of  his  mother,  who 
suffered  on  the  scaffold,  27th  May,  1540.  A  similar  fate  was  in  reserve 
for  the  favourite  queen  herself.  That  Catharine  Howard  was  guilty  of 
wounded  honour  before  her  marriage  with  the  king,  seems  satisfactorily 
proved ;  and,  perhaps,  her  wedded  life  was  not  utterly  unstained.  On 
hearing  allegations  against  her  purity,  Henry  appeared  to  be  greatly 
moved.  Barbarous  as  he  was  in  some  respects,  this  was  a  matter  that 
touched  him  keenly  ;  to  virgin  purity  he  paid  particular  regarJl.  The 
guilty  and  unfortunate  Catharine  was  tried,  condemned,  and,  along  with 
Lady  Rocheford,  put  to  death  in  1542. 

This  year  Henry  obtained  the  title  of '  King  of  Ireland.'  He  also 
published  a  declaration  of  reasons  for  making  war  with  Scotland-— com- 
plaining that  his  nephew,  James  V.,  had  failed  of  meeting  him  in  a 
conference  the  year  before,  according  to  his  promise,  kept  back  a  por- 
tion of  English  territory,  and  afforded  protection  to  unfaithful  English 
subjects.  He  even  claimed  submission  as  liege  lord  of  the  Scottish 
king.  In  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  James,  war  was  carried  to  the 
Scottish  frontier  under  the  duke  of  Norfolk ;  but  James  died  in  Decern- 


pebiod.]  hekbt  vm.  29 

ber,  soon  after  the  battle  of  Solway,  in  which  !ii>yeral  of  his  nobility 
were  taken  prisoners.  On  the  death  of  the  king  of  Scotland,  Henry 
proposed  a  marriage  between  Edward,  bis  son  by  Jane  Seymour,  and 
his  late  nephew's  in&nt  daughter,  Mary.  But  Cardinal  Beaton,  regent 
of  Scotland,  was  opposed  to  the  match,  and  a  war  ensued,  in  which 
Henry's  troops  supported  the  party  of  the  earl  of  Lennox  against  the 
cardinal.  In  June,  1546,  peace  was  concluded  with  Scotland,  and 
also  with  the  king  of  France. 

Henry  had  now  become  the  subject  of  disease,  and  Bishop  Gardinery 
80  notorious  from  the  part  which  he  took  in  the  persecution  of  the 
following  reign,  was  his  minister.  Even  now,  persecution — ^from 
which,  indeed,  the  previous  part  of  Henry's  reign  had  been  by  no  means 
free — darkened  this  closing  period  of  his  life.  Catharine  Pair,  whom 
Henry  had  married  on  the  12th  July,  1543,  was  in  danger  of  falling 
before  the  temper  of  her  lord.  She  was  attached  to  the  Protestant 
religion,  and,  in  a  conversation  with  the  king,  ventured  to  differ  with 
him  in  an  article  of  &ith.  But  heresy  and  contradiction  were  too  much 
for  him  to  bear.  He  informed  Bishop  Gardiner  of  the  queen's  offence, 
and  even  authorised  articles  of  impeachment  to  be  prepared  against  her 
— as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  course,  that  to  be  the  wife  of  Henry  was,  in 
the  end,  to  be  the  victim  of  his  cruelty.  But  Catharine,  hearing  of  her 
danger,  effectually  soothed  and  pacified  him,  commending  his  theological 
capacity,  and  speaking  humbly  of  herself.  The  bloody  actions  of  Henry's 
reign  were  not  yet  terminated  however,  nor  was  it  until  the  duke  of 
Norfolk  had  been  condemned,  and  his  celebrated  and  accomplished  son, 
the  earl  of  Surrey,  by  a  sentence  which  none,  perhaps,  will  justify,  had 
lost  his  life,  that  Henry  yielded  up  his  own.  His  health  had  long  been 
giving  way,  and  his  malady  seems  to  have  roused  to  savage  passion  a 
temper  ill-prepared,  perhaps,  by  courtly  flattery  and  parliamentary  sub* 
mission,  for  a  personal  encounter  with  an  enemy  which  the  power  of 
the  tyrant  was  unable  to  subdue.  On  hearing  that  death  might  be 
looked  for,  he  directed  Cranmer  to  be  sent  for ;  and  the  latter  having 
asked  him  to  give  a  sign  of  his  dying  in  the  faith,  Henry  pressed  the 
hand  of  the  prelate,  and  expired.  This  event  occurred  on  the  28th  of 
January,  1547,  in  the  56th  year  of  the  king's  age,  and  SSth  of  his  reign. 

This  prince — ^whose  character  history  brings  the  more  prominently 
out,  firom  the  vigorous  part  he  took,  and  the  powerful  influence  he 
exerted,  in  the  transactions  of  his  reign — appears  not  only  to  have 
encouraged  art  and  genius,  but  to  have  been  himself  possessed  of  con- 
siderable accomplishment  and  learning.  But  along  with  his  attainments, 
there  is  indicated  a  dogmatic  confidence  in  his  own  conclusions — at 
least  in  matters  of  theology — ^founded,  probably,  both  on  his  notions  of 
prerogative  as  a  king,  and  head  of  the  English  church,  and  on  a  vain 
opinion  of  his  own  capacity.  He  was  possessed,  no  doubt,  of  great 
activity  and  energy  of  mind ;  but  these  were  frightful  weapons  in  the 
hands  of  a  despot,  and  might  have  proved  so  even  in  the  hands  of  a 
wiser  and  better  man  possessed  of  the  prerogative  wielded  by  the  Eng- 
lish king.  But  Henry  did  not  act  merely  under  the  influence  of  short 
and  violent  excitement.  Wolsey,  who  had  opportunity  to  know  him 
well,  thus  described  him  shortly  before  his  own  death : — **  He  is  a 
prince  of  a  most  royal  carriaee.  and  hath  a  princely  heart ;  and  rather 
than  he  will  miss  or  want  any  jmrt  of  his  will,  he  will  endanger  the  one 

30  POLITIOAL  SEBIES.  [Fousth 

half  of  his  kingdom.  I  do  aasare  you,  that  I  have  often  kneeled  before 
hiib,  sometimes  three  hours  together,  to  persuade  him  from  his  will  and 
appetite,  but  could  not  prevail."  To  his  country  he  stands  in  the  rela- 
tion of  the  prince  under  whom  the  English  church  was  severed  from 
the  supremacy  of  Rome,  and  the  Holy  Scriptures  opened  up  for  the  use 
of  the  English  people.  But  the  probable  sincerity  of  his  adherence  to 
the  Romish  dogmas,  and  the  false  opinions  of  the  age  respecting  the 
treatment  of  errors  in  theological  belief^  are  unable  to  remove  from  his 
memory  the  stain  of  religious  persecution — and,  although  the  part  which 
he  took  in  setting  aside  the  papal  claim  to  the  supremacy  in  England, 
may  have  found  support  in  conclusions  to  which  reason,  guided  by  the 
circumstances  in  which  his  wish  for  a  divorce  from  Catharine  had  placed 
him,  yet,  considering  the  headstrong  passions  of  the  king,  and  the  relation 
into  which  he  was  brought  with  the  pope,  by  his  suit  for  a  divorce, 
there  is  reason  to  regard  his  conduct  in  the  matter  a  proof  neither  of 
sound  and  deliberate  thought  on  the  real  subject  of  the  supremacy,  nor 
of  a  generous  wish  to  establish  truth,  though  new,  on  the  ruins  of  anti- 
quated error.  During  Henry's  life,  the  English  government  ill  kept 
pace  with  the  growth  of  religious  reformation  under  the  great  men  who 
led  the  march  of  protestantism  on  the  continent  of  Europe— and  much 
as,  in  point  of  fact,  Henry  may  have  done  to  bring  on  in  England  the 
ascendancy  of  truth,  yet  he  does  not,  as  its  wise  and  generous  advocate, 
stand  forth, 

"  His  own  brows  garlanded. 
Amid  the  tremor  of  a  realm  aglow, 
Amid  a  mighty  nation  jubilant." 

In  many  respects,  the  reign  of  this  monarch  is  deserving  of  careful 
study,  and  the  great  men  who  flourished  in  it  have  not  only  a  strong 
but  a  peculiar  claim  on  our  attention.  They  performed  a  work  of 
much  difficulty,  and  established  principles  which  indicate  the  rapid  ad- 
vancement of  knowledge  and  good  sense.  Nor  is  it  only  from  the 
position  in  which  they  stood  as  to  the  afiairs  of  their  own  times,  that 
the  actors  on  the  stage  of  public  events  at  this  period  merit  so  much 
observation.  They  were  the  forerunners  of  a  yet  hardier  generation, — 
of  men  who  had  a  far  more  difficult  task  to  perform,  who  stood  sur- 
rounded by  circumstances  which  it  requited  higher  intellects  to  govern 
and  more  light  to  convert  into  good,  but  who  were  yet  indebted  in 
many  important  respects  to  their  predecessors.  It  is  with  an  eye  to 
subsequent  eras  that  every  division  of  biographical  history  should  be 
made :  there  is  however  a  stronger,  a  more  evident  relationship  between 
following  ages  at  one  period  than  at  another.  The  most  ingenious 
minds  will  And  it  difficult  to  trace  the  progress  of  improvement  by 
that  of  time  through  the  general  course  of  events :  it  is  only  here  and 
there  that  the  cause  and  the  effect  may  be  seen  hanging  together  in 
the  misty  regions  of  the  past;  but  wherever  even  the  faintest  signs 
of  the  connexion  are  discoverable,  there  both  history  and  biography 
assume  a  dignity  which  raises  them  &r  above  their  ordinary  respecta- 
bility and  usefulness. 

Pduoi>.]  cardinal  W0L8ET.  31 

BORN  A.  D.  1471.~DISD  ▲.  D.  1680. 

Thohas  Wolsbt  was  bom  at  Ipswich,  in  Suffolk,  in  the  month  of 
August)  some  say  Maroh,  1471.  A  controversy  has  arisen  among  his 
biographers  as  to  the  rank  in  life  and  occupation  of  this  celebrated 
man's  £ather.  We  are  neither  able  nor  solicitous  to  determine  the 
point.  Cavendish  describes  him  as  ^*  an  honest  poor  man's  son,"  and 
the  designation  is  sufficient  to  show  that  Wolsey  added  to  his  other 
merits  the  no  small  one  of  having  raised  himseU  to  the  most  exalted 
eminence  which  a  subject  could  occupy  from  an  humble  and  obscure 
station.  His  &ther  appears  to  have  possessed  a  little  property,  which 
enabled  him  to  enter  his  son  at  Magdalene  college,  Oxford,  where  he 
obtained  the  degree  of  bachelor-in-arts  at  the  early  age  of  fifteen.  To 
quickness  of  apprehension,  the  young  Wolsey  added  considerable  per- 
sonal qualifications.  Shakspeare  says  of  him,  that  ^^  he  was  DEishioned 
to  much  honour  from  the  cradle;"  and  to  this  union  of  intellectual  and 
bodily  qualities  he  may  have  been  indebted  for  much  of  the  £&vour  and 
patronage  which  were  shown  to  him  in  early  life.  He  was  early  elect- 
ed fellow  of  Magdalene,  and,  having  been  subsequently  admitted  to 
orders,  was  appointed  master  of  the  preparatory  school  of  his  collie. 
The  assiduity  and  success  with  which,  in  this  character,  he  conducted 
the  preliminary  education  of  the  three  sons  of  Grey,  marquees  of 
Dorset,  procured  for  him  the  patronage  of  that  nobleman,  who  pre- 
sented him  with  the  living  of  Lymington  in  Hampshire. 

Wolsey  was  in  his  29th  year  when  he  obtained  this  his  first  church- 
preferment.  Before  he  left  the  university  he  had  given  solid  proof  not 
only  of  his  literary  tastes  and  acquirement,  but  of  his  munificence  and 
genius  for  architecture.  The  erection  of  the  fine  tower  of  Magdalene 
college  chapel  had  demonstrated  the  justness  of  his  taste,  but  had,  at 
the  same  time,  involved  him  in  pecuniary  embarrassments  to  a  consi- 
derable extent.  Yet  no  sooner  was  the  young  incumbent  settled  in  his 
rectory  than  he  began  to  repair  and  beautify  both  his  church  and  par- 
sonage house,  in  a  style  which  would  have  better  suited  the  mansion  of 
a  nobleman  than  the  residence  of  a  country  clergyman.  So  early  did 
the  love  of  architecture  display  and  manifest  itself  as  a  master-passion 
in  Wolsey's  mind.  The  marquess  of  Dorset  died  in  1501,  but  Wolsey 
quickly  found  another  patron  in  Deane,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  into 
whose  household  he  was  received  as  domestic  chaplain.  The  arch- 
bishop died  in  1502,  and  Wolsey  next  acquired  the  favour  of  Sir  John 
Nan£ein,  treasurer  to  the  city  of  Calais,  who,  upon  retiring  from  office 
on  the  score  of  old  age,  recommended  Wolsey  so  warmly  to  the  notice 
of  Henry  VII.,  that  the  king  made  him  one  of  his  chaplains. 

Wolsey  had  now  entered  on  the  high  road  to  preferment,  and,  with 
that  quick  discernment  and  tact  for  which  he  was  afterwards  so  con- 
spicuous, he  immediately  attached  himself  to  the  bishop  of  Winches- 
ter and  Sir  Thomas  Lovel,  two  of  the  most  influential  members  of 
Henry's  privy  council.  By  studying  the  temper  of  these  two  courtiers, 
and  accommodating  himself  to  their  wishes,  he  raised  himself  so  high 
in  their  good  opini<m,  that  they  did  not  hesitate  to  recommend  him  to 


■  I  ■     -  rri   MnTII^ FT-  ll-ll-      -     IW-M  ■     ^^  ^^M      ■     IM   ■!■■■■■       I I I L 

the  king,  then  contemplating  a  marriage  with  the  duchess  of  Say 07, 
as  a  fit  person  for  conducting  the  necessary  negotiations  with  Maximil- 
ian, emperor  of  Germany,  the  father  of  the  duchess.  '^The  king," 
says  Cavendish,  "  giving  ear  unto  them,  and  being  a  prince  of  excel- 
lent judgment  and  modesty,  commanded  them  to  bring  his  chaplain, 
whom  they  so  much  commended,  before  his  Grace's  presence.  At 
whose  repairs  thither,  to  prove  the  wit  of  his  chaplain,  the  king  fell  in 
communication  with  him  in  matters  of  weight  and  gravity ;  and  per- 
ceiving his  wit  to  be  very  fine,  thought  him  sufficient  to  be  put  in  trust 
and  authority  with  this  embassy,  and  commanded  him  to  prepare  him- 
self for  this  enterprise  and  journey,  and  for  his  depeche  to  repair  to 
his  Grace,  and  his  trusty  counsellors  aforesaid,  of  whom  he  should  re- 
ceive his  commission  and  instructions ;  by  means  whereof  he  had  then 
a  due  occasion  to  repair  from  time  to  time  to  the  king's  presence,  who 
perceived  him  more  and  more  to  be  a  very  wise  man,  and  of  a  good 
entendement."  The  expedition  and  address  with  which  Wolsey  ac- 
quitted himself  in  this  negotiation,  justified  the  high  encomiums  which 
had  been  pronounced  upon  him  by  his  friends.  Fox  and  Level,  and 
effectually  established  him  in  Henry's  favour,  who  rewarded  him  with 
the  deanery  of  Lincoln,  at.  that  time  the  most  valuable  benefice  in 
England  under  a  bishoprick,  to  which  were  added  the  prebends  of  Stowe, 
Walton,  and  Brinkald. 

Soon  after  the  commencement  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  reign,  we  find 
Wolsey  executing  the  office  of  king's  almoner,  an  office  which  gave, 
him  every  opportunity  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  monarch.  Nor 
was  he  long  in  turning  the  advantages  of  his  situation  to  his  own 
profit.  In  a  very  few  months  he  had  acquired  the  complete  confidence 
of  his  royal  master,  and  had  rendered  himself  so  subservient  to  his 
pleasures,  that  Henry  rewarded  him  with  the  splendid  mansion  and 
gardens  of  Sir  Richard  Empson,  which,  on  the  atUiinder  of  that  minis- 
ter, had  fEillen  to  the  crown.  This  palace  was  for  some  years  the  scene 
of  Wolsey's  magnificence  and  Henry's  sports.  Here  the  young  mon- 
arch, with  his  gay  companions,  sought  relief  from  the  cares  of  state  in 
the  most  unbounded  revelry  and  licentiousness;  and  here  Wolsey,  aban- 
doning all  decorum,  sang,  danced,  and  caroused  with  the  youthful  de- 
bauchees. **He  came  unto  the  king,"  says  Tyndale,  '^and  waited 
upon  him,  and  was  no  man  so  obsequious  and  serviceable,  and  in  all 
games  and  sports  the  first  and  next  at  hand,  and  as  a  captain  to  en- 
courage others,  and  a  gay  finder-out  of  new  pastimes,  to  obtain  favour 
with  all.  He  spied  out  the  nature  and  disposition  of  the  king's  play- 
fellows, and  of  all  that  were  great,  and  whom  he  spied  meet  for  his 
purpose,  him  he  flattered  and  made  faithful  with  great  purposes."  Nor 
vras  he  less  sedulous  to  win  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  such  ladies  as 
stood  well  in  the  youthful  monarch's  good  graces.  *' Whosoever  of 
them  was  great,"  says  Strype,  "  to  her  he  was  fe^miliar,  and  gave  her 
gifts."  By  such  arts,  Wolsey  at  once  established  himself  in  Henry's 
favour,  as  a  prime  accessary  to  his  pleasures,  whilst  he  not  only  gave 
no  offence  to  those  who  might  otherwise  have  become  his  rivsds,  but 
arCtually  won  them  over  to  his  own  interests.  At  the  same  time  he 
endeavoured  to  convince  Henry  that  he  was  equal  to  greater  things 
than  promoting  courtly  revelry  and  giving  a  zest  to  a  monarch's  hours 
of  relaxation.     By  frequent  disquisitions  on  the  works  of  the  school- 


Period.]  CABDINAL  WOLSEY.  33 

men,  and  particularly  of  Aquinasy  Henry's  especial  fiivoarite,  and  on 
the  theory  and  art  of  government,  he  succeeded  in  impressing  his 
young  pupil  with  a  high  sense  of  his  skill  both  as  a  politician  and  a 
divine.  In  this  way  he  gradually  acquired  a  wonderful  dominion  over 
the  youthful  king's  mind,  and  became  at  last  the  most  influential  per- 
sonage in  the  whole  circle  of  Henry's  accomplished  courtiers.  He  now 
wanted  nothing  "  either  to  please  his  fantasy,  or  to  lavish  his  cofiers, 
fortune  so  smiled  upon  him," — ^he  was  the  sole  avenue  to  Henry's  la* 
vour,  and  suitors  of  every  rank  found  it  for  their  interest  to  propitiate 
Wolsey  in  the  first  instance,  and  make  their  first  approaches  through 
him.  The  two  rival  ministers,  Surrey  and  Fox,  quailed  before  his 
ascendancy  (  and  Margaret  of  Scotland  and  Queen  Catharine  herself 
found  it  for  their  advantage  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  the  all-power« 
All  almoner. 

Soon  after  the  king's  return  from  the  campaign  in  France,  the  bish- 
opric of  Lincoln  happened  to  become  vacant,  and  was  given  to  Wolsey, 
who,  on  taking  possession,  found  his  wealth  much  augmented  by  the 
moveables  of  his  predecessor ;  he  had  been  scarcely  invested  with  this 
new  honour,  when  York  also  became  vacant,  and  he  was  advanced  to 
the  archiepiscopal  dignity.  Little  more  than  a  year  elapsed  before 
Wolsey  was  advanced  to  the  rank  of  cardinal  by  Leo  X.  Archbishop 
Warham  now  relinquished  the  seals,  which  were  instantly  given  to  the 
cardinal  with  the  dignity  of  chanceUor  of  the  realm.  *'  Henceforth," 
says  Gait,  *^  Wolsey  may  be  r^arded  as  the  dictator  of  England ;  for, 
although  the  king  appeared,  afterwards,  personally  in  eveiy  important 
transaction,  the  cardinal  had  acquired  such  an  ascendancy  that  the 
emanations  of  the  royal  will  were  in  fact  only  the  reflected  purposes  of 
the  minister."  A  buU  investing  him  with  legantine  authority,  placed  his 
ecclesiastical  pre-eminence  in  the  realm  above  controversy,  and  invested 
him  with  the  prerogatives  of  the  pontifi^  himself.  ^  Francis  L  being  now 
desirous  of  entering  into  an  alliance  with  England,  had  recourse  to 
bribery  to  win  the  interest  of  the  cardinal.  Charles  V.  of  Germany, 
Pope  Leo,  and  the  duke  of  Milan,  successively  resorted  to  the  same 
means  with  a  view  to  the  same  end.  In  addition  to  the  annuities  settled 
upon  him  by  these  potentates,  Wolsey  farmed  the  revenues  of  the  sees 
of  Hereford  and  Worcester  from  the  foreign  dignitaries  upon  whom 
they  had  been  bestowed,  and  held  in  commendam  the  abbey  of  St 
Alban's  with  the  bishopric  of  Bath.  Wh^t  the  arts  were  by  which  the 
crafty  favourite  continued  to  kpologise  to  his  royal  master  for  his  avari- 
ciousness,  and  above  all  to  lull  his  suspicions  of  foreign  influence,  does 
not  clearly  appear ;  one  thing  is  certain,  that  not  only  did  the  unscrupu- 
lous monarch  connive  at  his  minister's  conduct,  but  he  even  sanctioned 
it,  and  seemed  to  be  much  amused  at  the  adroitness  with  which  Wolsey 
managed  his  own  interest  in  every  negotiation.  On  being  informed 
that  Francis  I.  had  settled  an  annuity  of  12,000  livres  on  the  cardinal, 
he  only  observed  to  Wolsey  himself,  **  I  plainly  discern  that  you  will 
govern  both  Francis  and  me."  So  astonishing  did  this  entire  ascend- 
ancy over  the  capricious  monarch  appear  even  at  the  time,  that  the 
vulgar  of  the  day  universally  ascribed  it  to  demoniacal  influence. 
But  ample  as  Wolsey's  revenues  were,  they  did  not  more  than  suffice 

»  Rymer,  xfii.  734. 
II.  E 

34  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foctsth 

fi>r  the  enormoas  expenses  of  his  estaWsfaraent.  His  establishment 
on  a  princely  scale,  and  comprehended  do  fewer  than  eight  hundred 
individuals.  His  personal  attendants  were  forty-six  in  number,  and 
his  chaplains  and  other  attendants  upon  the  ceremony  of  mass,  not 
fewer  than  143.  Many  of  the  officers  of  his  household  were  persons  oi 
considerable  birth  and  liberal  education,  and  ailerwards  rose  to  high 
offices  in  the  state.  In  his  own  person  he  esLhibited  the  utmost  rich- 
ness and  magnificence  of  attire :  his  very  shoes,  according  to  Roy,  bein^ 

'*  Of  gold  and  nUmm  precious. 
Costing  many  a  thousand  pounds.*' 

When  he 'went  abroad  he  appeared  with  more  than  royal  splendour  and 
parade.     "  There  was  borne  before  him,"  says  Cayendish,  ^*  first  the 
great  seal  of  England ;  and  then  his  cardinal's  hat,  by  a  nobleman  or 
some  worthy  gentleman,  right  solemnly,  bareheaded.     And  as  soon  as 
he  was  entered  into  his  chamber  of  presence,  where  there  was  attending 
his  coming  to  await  upon  him  to  Westminster  hall,  as  well  noblemen 
and  other  worthy  gentlemen,  as  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  his  own 
family ;  thus  passing  forth  with  two  great  crosses  of  silver  borne  before 
him ;  with  also  two  great  pillars  of  silver,  and  his  pursuivant-at-arms 
with  a  great  mace  of  silver  gilt.     Then  his  gentlemen  and  ushers  cried 
and  said,  '  On,  my  lords  and  masters,  on  before  I  Make  way  for  my 
lord  s  Grace  I'     Thus  passed  he  down  from  his  chamber  through  the 
hail ;  and  when  he  came  to  the  hall  door,  there  was  attendant  for  him 
his  mule  trapped  altogether  in  crimson  velvet  and  gilt  stirrups.     When 
he  was  mounted,  with  his  cross  bearers,  and  pillar  bearers,  also  upon 
great   horses  trs^ped   with  fine  scarlet,   then  marched  he  forward, 
with  his  trfdn  and  furniture  in  manner  as  I  have  declared,  having 
about  him  four  footmen*  with  gilt  poleaxes  in  their  hands ;'  and  thus  he 
went  until  he  came  to  Westminster  hall  door.     And  there  alighted,  and 
went  after  this  manner,  up  through  the  hall  into  the  chancery ;  how- 
beit  he  would  most  commonly  stay  a  while  at  a  bar,  made  for  him,  a 
little  beneath  the  chancery  (on  the  right  hand)  and  there  commune 
sometime  with  the  judges,  and  sometime  with  other  persons.     And  that 
done  he  would  repair  into  the  chancery,  sitting  there  till  eleven  of  the 
clock,  hearing  suitors,  and  determining  of  divers  matters.     And  from 
thence  he  would  divers  times  go  into  the  star-chamber,  as  occasion  did 
serve ;  where  he  spared  neither  high  nor  low,  but  judged  every  estate 
according  to  their  merits  and  deserts."     Indeed,  in  the  discharge  of  his 
judicial  functions,  Wolsey  appears  to  have  been  highly  exemplary. 
He  did  not  possess  much  technical  knowledge  or  acquaintance  with  the 
minutiae  of  law,  but  with  a  clear  head  and  vigorous  understanding  sel- 
dom failed  to  expiscate  the  merits  of  a  case  and  arrive  at  a  sound  de- 
cision, and  the  equity  of  his  judgments  seems  to  have  been  universally 
acknowledged.     His  jurisdiction  over  the  priesthood  was  less  generally 
approved  of.     He  instituted  a  kind  of  inquisitorial  court  whose  business 
it  was  to  look  after  the  delicts  of  the  clergy  and  impose  suitable  fines 
upon  offenders,  and  its  awards  were  always  strictly  executed,  which 
greatly  exasperated  the  clergy  against  the  founder. 

Wolsey  now  became  an  aspirant  after  the  pontificate,  and  to  this 
splendid  expectation  he  sacrificed  his  integrity  as  Henry's  minister. 
Gait  denies  this :  and  asks  what  serious  efiect  could  be  expected  firom 


any  promise  which  Charles  might  hold  out  to  this  effect  duiing  his 
visit  to  England,  seeing  that  Leo  X.  who  then  filled  the  chair  of  St 
i;|        Peter,  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  many  years  younger  than  the  car* 
dinal.     Our  answer  is,  that  no  object  whatever  could  appear  too  distant 
or  unattainable  to  Wolsey's  insatiable  ambition,  and  that  tlie  affair  of 
the  interview  at  Guisnes  is  decisive  of  the  character  of  Woisey  in  this 
respect     Leo  died  in  the  vigour  of  his  age,  but  the  emperor  fiuled  to 
redeem  his  pledge,  yet  his  consummate   dissimulation  prevailed  on 
Woisey  once  more  to  attach  himself  to  his  interests  in  the  hope  of  ere 
long  gaining  the  object  of  his  aspirations,  on  the  death  of  the  new  popct 
Adrian  VL,  whose  great  age  and  infirmities  rendered  that  event  ex- 
tremely probable  at  no  distant  date.     Adrian  died  in  about  a  year  and 
a  half  after  his  election,  and  Woisey  again  felt  the  triple  crown  encir- 
cling his  brows,  but  was  doomed  again  to  experience  the  hollowness  of 
Charles's  protestations:   with  the  support  of  the  imperial  party  the 
cardinal  De  Medici  was  elected  pope  under  the  title  of  Clement  VII. ; 
and  England  soon  after  entered  into  a  close  alliance  with  France; 
though  not  before  Woisey  had  pocketed  a  bribe  of  one  hundred  thou- 
sand crowns  from  Francis,  under  the  name  of  arrears  due  on  the  Tour- 
nay  pension.      The  home-administration  of  Woisey  displays  greater 
firmness  and  integrity;  yet  his  financial  measures  were  not  only  un- 
popular, but,  in  some  instances,  highly  unconstitutional.     On  his  re- 
pulse in  the  house  of  commons  and  at  the  hands  of  Sir  John  More, 
then  speaker,  Woisey  did  not  summon  a  parliament  for  seven  years 
after,  although  the  very  next  year  was  distinguished  by  the  audacious 
attempt  to  levy  a  subsidy  of  one-sixth  of  every  man's  substance.     The 
simple  edict  of  the  executive  was  considered  by  Woisey  authority  suf- 
ficient for  the  execution ;   but   **  the  courage   and   love   of  freedom 
natural  to  the   English  commons,  speaking   in   the   hoarse  voice  of 
tumult,"'  defeated  the  daring  attempt.     His  attack  on  the  wealth  and 
endowments  of  the  church  was  more  popular  and  therefore  more  sue- 
cessfiil.     In  two  years  he  dissolved  forty-one  of  the  lesser  monasteries, 
and  would  have  proceeded  to  greater  lengths,  had  he  not  been  held  in 
check  by  Henr}',  who  was  not  yet  prepared  for  such  sweeping  mea- 
sures as  he  himself  afterwards  adopted  against  monastic  institutions. 
With  the  means  thus  supplied  him,  Woisey  became  a  munificent  and 
enlightened  patron  and  supporter  of  literature  and  p<^ular  education. 
He  established  a  school  and  loade  arrangements  for  a  college  at  Ipswich ; 
he  founded  the  magnificent  college  of  Christ's  church  at  Oxford ;  and 
extended  his  patronage  generally  to  the  universities  and  places  of  pub- 
lic instruction  throughout  England.     He  also  bestowed  the  most  minute 
and  sedulous  attention  on  the  education  of  the  duke  of  Richmond, 
Henry's  natural  son,  and  the  princess  Mary.     These  were  services 
which  throw  a  lustre  around  this  extraordinary  man's  character ;  but 
they  were  hardly  appreciated  at  the  time,  and  whatever  they  might 
have  done  for  Wolsey's  popularity,  the  harshness  and  sternness  with 
which  he  enforced  his  home-administration,  throughout  every  depart- 
ment of  it,  rendered  him  exceedingly  unpopular.     The  prohibition  of 
games  of  chance,  and  his  severe  sumptuary  laws,  were  highly  disrelish- 


36  POLITICAL  SERIEa  [Foubth 

«d;  and  the  cardinal's  own  magnificence  and  licentiousness  stood  in 
most  unfavourable  contrast  with  such  attempts  to  reform  and  correct 
abuses  in  the  private  economy  of  families.  <^  He  who  grudges  every 
man  his  pleasure,"  said  the  people,  "spares  not  his  own."  Wolsey 
displayed  less  than  his  usual  prudence  in  the  share  which  he  took  in 
the  Lutheran  controversy.  By  causing  Pope  Leo's  bull  against  Luther 
to  be  posted  on  every  church  door  in  England,  along  with  the  forty- 
two  Mamnable  and  pestiferous'  errors  of  that  great  reformer,  he  in 
effect  did  more  to  promote  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  than  many  of 
its  best  friends  could  accomplish  at  the  time.  Luther  knew  his  man, 
and  hesitated  not  to  designate  him  in  his  *  Apologetical  letter^  to 
Henry,  as  "  illud  monstrum  et  publicum  odium  Dei  et  hominum,  car- 
dinalis  Eboracensis,  pestis  ilia  regni  tui."  Yet,  it  must  be  allowed  on 
behalf  of  Wolsey,  that  he  did  not  use  his  power  in  a  very  sanguinary 
manner  against  the  reformers,  and  that,  in  fact,  his  remissness  in  search- 
ing out  and  punishing  heretics  formed  one  ground  of  impeachment 
against  him. 

We  have  already  hinted  at  the  connexion  betwixt  the  affair  of 
Henry's  divorce  from  Queen  Catharine  and  Wolsey's  downfall.  We  are 
not  prepared  to  state  with  certainty  what  were  the  precise  sentiments 
which  the  cardinal  entertained  respecting  that  measure;  but  from 
Wolsey's  behaviour  on  the  occasion  of  its  §rst  communication  to  him, 
it  would  fippear  that  he  foreboded  from  the  first  that  such  a  step  on  the 
part  of  the  king  would  prove  fatal  to  himself  at  least.  "  The  cardinal," 
says  Gait,  "  fell  on  his  knees,  and  entreated  the  king  to  abandon  a  de- 
sign so  hostile  to  the  faith  of  which  he  was  the  declared  champion  and 
defender."  Yet  both  the  queen  and  her  nephew,  the  emperor  Charles, 
charged  Wolsey  with  having  originated  the  divorce  indirectly  through 
the  bishop  of  Tarbes.  "  Of  this  trouble,"  old  Hall  makes  the  queen  to 
say,  "  I  may  only  thank  you  my  lord  cardinal  of  York ;  for,  because  I 
have  wondered  at  your  high  pride  and  vain  glory,  and  abhor  your 
voluptuous  life,  and  little  regard  your  presumptuous  power  and  tyranny, 
therefore  of  malice  you  have  kindled  this  fire  and  set  this  matter  abroad, 
and  in  especial  for  the  great  malice  that  you  bear  to  my  nephew  the 
emperor,  because  he  would  not  satisfy  your  ambition  and  make  you 
pope  by  force."  The  appointment  of  Wolsey  and  Campeggio,  by  a 
papal  bull,  as  a  legatine  court  to  try  the  question  of  the  divorce,  sealed 
the  minister  s  fate.  Afler  long  vacillation,  the  two  legates  avoided  coming 
to  a  decision  by  adjourning  the  legatine  court.  The  impatient  spirit 
of  Henry  was  now  provoked  to  the  uttermost,  while  both  Catharine 
and  Anne  declared  that  they  regarded  the  cardinal  as  their  personal 
enemy,  and  expected  not  to  receive  justice  at  his  hands.  The  first  de- 
cided intimation  which  Wolsey  received  of  the  altered  terms  upon 
which  he  now  stood  with  the  king,  was  the  marked  coldness  of  his  re- 
ception at  Grafton,  where  the  court  rested,  on  his  going  thither  with 
Campeggio  who  had  now  determined  to  return  to  Rome.  On  his  return 
to  London,  he  opened  the  court  of  chancery  with  his  accustomed  parade ; 
but  the  next  morning  he  was  waited  on  by  the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,  who  demanded  the  great  seals  from  him.  With  this  demand  he 
refused  to  comply  without  a  formal  letter  to  that  effect  from  the  king 
l|imself ;  but  two  days  afterwards,  the  dukes  returned,  and  presenting  a 

'^>    ■!'   >.m 

Pbrioi>.]  cardinal  WOLSEY.  37 

written  order  from  Henry,  bore  away  the  seals.  Wolsey  now  retired 
to  Esher;  but  not  before  he  had  made  some  miserable  exhibitions  of 
abject  submission  towards  the  tyrant 

"  Whose  smiltf  was  tnnsport,  and  wImim  frown  was  fktCL" 

An  information  was  now  filed  against  him  by  the  attorney-general  for 
having,  contrary  to  the  statute  of  provisors,  exerdsed  legatine  authority 
in  En^and ;  he  was  at  once  pronpunced  guilty  on  this  charge,  and  de- 
clared to  have  incurred  the  penalties  of  a  premunire ;  his  immense  pro- 
perty was  seized;  and  he  was  hurled  from  the  highest  pinnacle  of 
wealth  and  grandeur  to  instantaneous  and  utter  destitution*  Wolsey 
held  a  dispensation  under  the  king's  sign  manual  for  the  very  &cts  ou 
which  he  was  sued,  but  having  been  seized  with  his  other  effects,  it 
was  now  withheld  from  him,  and  he  was  thus  prevented  from  pleading 
an  instrument  which  must  have  protected  him  wherever  law  or  reason 
could  make  their  voice  heard.  A  transient  gleam  of  sunshine  once 
more  lighted  up  his  fallen  fortunes.  Henry  in  a  fit  of  pity  for  his  ex- 
minister,  granted  him  a  free  pardon  and  reinstated  him  in  the  sees  of 
York  and  Winchester.  Wolsey's  characteristic  love  of  splendour  was 
again  enkindled,  and  he  was  prq)aring  to  be  enthroned  at  York  when 
his  final  arrest  for  high  treason,  by  the  command  of  his  capricious  sove- 
reign, took  place  at  Cawood.  This  last  shock  was  too  much  for  a 
heart  already  broken  with  indignities  and  dangers :  his  moral  fortitude 
forsook  him ;  and  before  the  train  which  had  been  sent  to  escort  him  to 
the  Tower  reached  Leicester,  the  hand  of  death  pressed  heavily  upon 
him.  By  great  care  he  was  brought  to  the  abbey  of  Leicester,  where 
he  received  the  two  last  charities  of  a  death-bed  and  grave,  with  many 
circumstances  thus  affectingly  narrated  by  Cavendish :  '*  Upon  Mon- 
day in  the  morning,  as  I  stood  by  his  bed-side,  about  eight  of  the  clock, 
the  windows  being  close  shut,  having  wax  lights  burning  upon  the  cup- 
board, I  beheld  him,  as  me  seemed,  drawing  fast  to  his  end.  He  per- 
ceiving my  shadow  upon  the  wall  by  his  bed-6ide>  asked  who  was 
thero  ?     '  Sir,  I  am  here,'  quoth  I. — *  How  do  you  ?'  quoth  he  to  me.-« 

*  Very  well,  sir,'  quoth  I,  <  if  I  might  see  your  grace  well.* — <  What  is 
it  of  the  clock  ?'  said  he  to  me. — *  Forsooth,  sir,'  said  I,  '  it  is  past 
eight  of  the  clock  in  the  morning.' — *  Eight  of  the  dock  ?'  quoth  he, 

*  &at  cannot  be ;'  rehearsing  divers  times,  *  eight  of  the  clock,  eight  of 
the  clock;  nay,  nay;'  quoth  he  at  the  last,  '  it  cannot  be  eight  of  the 
dock :  for  by  eight  of  the  clock  ye  shall  lose  your  master :  for  my  time 
draweth  near  that  I  must  depart  out  of  this  world.'  With  that  master 
Doctor  Palmes,  a  worshipfol  gentleman,  being  his  chaplain  and  ghostly 
father,  standing  by,  bade  me  secretly  demand  of  him  if  he  would  be 
shriven,  and  to  be  in  a  readiness  towards  God,  whatsoever  should  chance. 
At  whose  desire  I  asked  him  that  question.  ^  What  have  you  to  do  to 
ask  me  any  such  question  ?'  quoth  he,  and  began  to  be  very  angry  with 
me  for  my  presumption ;  until  at  the  last  master  doctor  took  my  part, 
and  talked  with  him  in  Latin,  and  so  pacified  him." 

Kingston  entered,  and  bade  him  good  morning.  *^  I  tarry,  master 
Kingston,  but  the  will  and  pleasure  of  God,  to  render  unto  him  my 
simple  soul  into  his  divine  hand."  After  a  pause,  and  after  having  ex- 
plained the  fatal  nature  of  his  disease,  dysentery,  he  addressed  himself 
agam  to  Kingston  as  follows : — 

38  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foubth 

**  *  Master  Kingston,  my  disease  is  such  that  I  cannot  live ;  I  have 
bad  some  experience  in  my  disease,  and  thus  it  is :  I  have  a  flux  with 
a  continual  fever ;  the  nature  whereof  is  this,  that  if  there  be  no  altera- 
tion with  me  of  the  same  within  eight  days,  then  must  either  ensue 
excoriation  of  the  entrails,  or  frenzy,  or  else  present  death ;  and  the 
best  thereof  is  death.  And  as  I  suppose,  this  is  the  eighth  day :  and  if 
ye  see  in  me  no  alteration,  then  is  there  no  remedy  (although  J  may 
live  a  day  or  twaine)  but  death,  which  b  the  best  remedy  of  the  three.' — 
'  Nay,  sir,  in  good  faith,'  quoth  Master  Kingston,  *  you  be  in  such 
dolor  and  pensiveness,  doubting  that  thing  that  indeed  ye  need  not  to 
fear,  which  maketh  you  much  worse  than  ye  should  be,* — *  Well,  well, 
Master  Kingston,'  quoth  he,  *  I  see  the  matter  against  me  how  it  is  fram< 
ed ;  but  if  I  had  served  God  cts  diligendy  cu  I  have  done  the  kinffy  he  would 
not  have  given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs,  Howbeit,  this  b  the  just  re- 
ward that  I  must  receive  for  my  worldly  diligence  and  pains  that  I 
have  had  to  do  him  service ;  only  to  satisfy  his  vain  pleasure,  not  re- 
garding my  godly  duty."  The  dying  man,  having  laid  his  injunctions 
upon  Kingston  most  humbly  to  commend  him  unto  his  royal  majesty, 
proceeded  thus : — 

"  ^  And  say  furthermore,  that  I  request  his  Grace,  in  God's  name, 
that  he  have  a  vigilant  eye  to  depress  this  new  pernicious  sect  of  Lu- 
therans, that  it  do  not  increase  within  his  dominions  through  his  negli- 
gence, in  such  a  sort,  as  that  he  shall  be  fain  at  length  to  put  harness 
upon  his  back  to  subdue  them ;  as  the  king  of  Bohemia  who  had  good 
game,  to  see  his  rude  commons  (then  infected  with  Wickliflfe's  heresies) 
to  spoil  and  murder  the  spiritual  men  and  religious  persons  of  his 
realm ;  the  which  fled  to  the  king  and  his  nobles  for  succour  against 
their  frantic  rage ;  of  whom  they  could  get  no  help  of  defence  or  re- 
fuge, but  (they}  laughed  them  to  scorn,  having  good  game  at  their 
spoil  and  consumption,  not  regarding  their  duties  nor  their  own  de- 

"  *  Master  Kingston,  farewell.  I  can  no  more,  but  wish  all  things  to 
have  good  success.  My  time  draweth  on  fast.  I  may  not  tarry  with 
you.  And  forget  not,  I  pray  you,  what  I  have  said  and  charged  you 
withal;  for  when  I  am  dead,  ye  shall  peradventure  remember  my 
words  much  better.'  And  even  with  these  words  he  began  to  draw  his 
speech  at  length,  and  his  tongue  to  fail ;  his  eyes  being  set  in  his  head, 
whose  sight  failed  him.  Then  we  began  to  put  him  in  remembrance  of 
Christ's  passion ;  and  sent  for  the  abbot  of  the  place  to  anneal  him, 
who  came  with  all  speed,  and  ministered  unto  him  all  the  service  to  the 
same  belonging ;  and  caused  also  the  guard  to  stand  by,  both  to  hear 
him  talk  before  his  death,  and  also  to  witness  of  the  same ;  and  inconti- 
nent the  clock  struck  eight,  at  which  time  he  gave  up  the  ghost,  and 
thus  departed  he  this  present  life."  He  expired,  as  he  had  predicted, 
as  the  clock  struck  eight,  on  the  28th  of  November,  1530,  in  the  60th 
year  of  his  age. 

The  morsi  pathos  of  this  closing  scene  of  Wolsey's  life  must  soflen 
our  feelings  towards  him.  But  historical  justice  requires  us  to  pro- 
nounce the  most  unqualified  sentence  of  condemnation  upon  his  whole 
political  career  as  one  of  boundless  and  unprincipled  ambition  through* 

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P&SIOD.]  AmiE  BOLEYN.  39 

HORN  A.  »•  1507.— DIED  A.  D.  1536. 

This  unfortunate  princess  vas  bom  in  1507.  Her  fatker  was  Sii 
Thomas  Boleyn»  afterwards  created  eari  of  Wiltshire  and  Orraoudcy 
and  her  mother  was  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk.  At  the  age  of 
seven  or  eight,  she  accompanied  Mary,  Henry's  sister,  to  France,  at  the 
time  when  that  princess  became  the  wife  of  Louis  XI L  After  Mary's 
return  to  England,  Anne  remained  in  France,  as  an  attendant  on  Claude, 
the  queen  of  Francis  I.  and  she  is  said  to  have  lived  thereaft^er  with  the 
duchess  of  Alen9on.  The  precise  date  of  her  final  return  to  England 
is  uncertain.  Burnet  supposes  that  she  came  back  with  her  father  in 
1527.  In  England  she  became  a  maid  of  honour  to  queen  Catharine, 
in  which  situation  she  seems  to  have  been  free  from  gross  outward  im- 
propriety of  conduct.  **  She  carried  herself  so,**  says  Burnet,  speaking 
of  this  period  of  her  life,  *'  that,  in  the  whole  prt^ress  of  the  suit" — 
this  refers  to  the  action  of  divorce  from  Catharine— •'*  I  never  find  the 
queen  herself  or  any  of  her  agents  fix  the  least  ill  character  on  her, 
which  would  most  certainly  have  been  done  had  there  been  any  just 
cause  or  good  colour  for  it.**^  Daring  her  residence  at  court,  she 
attracted  the  attention  of  Lord  Percy,  son  of  the  eari  of  Northumber* 
land,  and  a  page  in  the  household  of  Cardinal  Wolsey.  Accordingly,  a 
marriage  between  Anne  and  Lord  Percy  was  proposed,  but  the  car- 
dinal and  the  king  himself  objected  to  the  match.  Considering  the  future 
history  of  Henry,  it  is  natural  to  infer  from  his  objecting  to  the  marriage 
of  the  noble  youth,  that  his  own  attachment  to  the  young  and  beautiful 
maid  of  honour  had  begun ;  and  from  a  confession  of  the  king  himself, 
an  excellent  historian  has  traced  that  attachment  to  the  year  1527.* 
Accordingly  we  find  that  in  May  of  that  year  she  was  his  partner  in 
the  dance,  at  a  royal  entertainment  given  at  Greenwich.  It  was  in  the 
July  immediately  succe^'ding,  that  Knight  was  sent  to  Rome,  with  a 
view  to  a  divorce  from  Catharine.  While  the  tedious  process  for  ob- 
taining that  object  was  proceeding,  Anne  was  considered  as  a  fevourite, 
if  not  as  a  mistress,  of  the  king;  and  few,  perhaps,  if  any,  will  doubt, 
that  his  attachment  to  tiie  maiden,  whose  external  cluurms  may  be 
allowed — ^without  derogating  from  the  virtuous  character  of  Catharine-— 
to  have  been  greatly  superior  to  the  queen's,  fostered,  or  at  least  accom* 
panied  his  scruples  respecting  the  validity  of  his  marriage,  supposing 
these  to  be  sincere.  As  to  the  particular  manner,  however,  in  which 
his  passion  influenced  his  mind  in  his  attempt  to  have  the  marriage 
nullified,  there  may  be  room  for  question.     Sir  James  Mackintosh  seems 

'  History  cf  the  Reformation,  Book  ii.  The  same  author  has  largely  refuted,  In  re- 
gard  to  Anne  Boleyn.  an  old  historian,  Sanders^  by  whom  she  is  represented  as  the 
daughter  of  Henry  VlII.  himself  by  the  lady  of  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  and  as  very  dis- 
solate  in  the  early  period  of  her  life.  Sanders  seems  to  hare  aimed  at  blackening  the 
character  of  Anne,  under  the  influence  of  party-feeling. 

*  Sir  J.  Mackintosh,  History  of  Knglana,  ▼ol.  ii.  p.  191*  "  He  reproaches  her,*'  says 
the  historian,  speaking  of  Henry  and  Anne^  ''for  cruelty  to  one  'who  was  one  whole 
year  strack  witn  the  dart  of  love,*  which  fixes  the  commencement  of  his  passion  in  1527- ' 

to  think,'  that  the  only  conceivable  reason  for  Henry's  perseverance  in 
that  long  and  tedious  process,  is,  the  refusal  of  Anne  Boleyn  to  gratify 
his  desire  on  any  other  terms  than  those  of  an  authorized  marriage.  To 
us,  however,  it  appears,  that,  independently  of  such  resistance  on  the 
part  of  Anne,  the  scholastic  scruples  and  headstrong  spirit  of  the  king 
might  go  far  to  explain  his  perseverance  in  his  suit  for  a  divorce.  But 
that  she  tUd  hold  out  against  the  unlawful  gratification  of  his  desires, 
seems  generally  admitted,  even  among  those  who  may  doubt  whether 
she  did  not  yield  previously  to  her  private  marriage  with  the  king  in 
1533-— a  question  which,  like  many  others,  it  is  now,  perhaps,  impossi- 
ble to  settle.  One  of  her  biographers  represents  it  as  questionable 
whether  she  would  not  have  been  less  guilty  in  becoming  Henry's  con- 
cubine, than  in  causing  the  degradation  of  the  virtuous  Catharine.* 
But  whether  she  was  influenced  in  the  desire  which  she  seems  to  have 
felt  for  the  king's  divorce,  by  her  judgment  on  the  moral  questions  it 
involved,  or  whether  she  was  not  prompted  merely  by  the  prospects  of 
ambition  and  the  blandishments  of  love,  are  points  perhaps  no  longer 
ascertainable.  That  she  heartily  entered,  however,  into  Henry's  scheme, 
or  at  least  felt  a  personal  interest  in  the  result,  it  may  be  safely  inferred 
ft*om  a  letter  addressed  by  her  and  the  king  conjointly  to  Cardinal 

At  length,  after  a  protracted  suit  for  a  divorce,  and  before  he  had 
obtained  it,  the  king  was  privately  married  to  Anne  Boleyn,  who  had 
previously  been  created  marchioness  of  Pembroke.  The  marriage 
took  place,  by  one  account,  on.  the  14th  of  November,  1532,  by  ano- 
ther, about  the  25th  of  January,  1533.  Dr  Lee  is  said  to  have  per- 
formed the  ceremony,  in  presence  of  Lord  and  Lady  Wiltshire  and 
other  friends.  In  May  thereafter.  Archbishop  Cranmer  pronounced  the 
king's  marriage  with  Catharine  invalid,  and  on  the  1st  of  June,  Anne 
was  crowned.  "  Which  mass  and  ceremonies  done,"  says  Cranmer, 
speaking  of  this  occasion,  **  all  the  assembly  of  noblemen  brought  her 
into  Westminster-hall  again,  where  was  kept  a  great  solemn  feast  all 
that  day ;  the  good  order  thereof  were  too  long  to  write  at  this  time  to 
you.  But  now.  Sir,  you  must  not  imagine  that  this  coronation  was 
before  her  marriage ;  for  she  was  married  much  about  St  Paul's  day 
last,  as  the  condition  thereof  doth  well  appear  by  reason  she  is  now 
somewhat  big  with  child.  Notwithstanding,  it  hath  been  reported 
throughout  a  great  part  of  the  realm  that  I  married  her,  which  was 
plainly  false,  for  myself  knew  not  thereof  a  fortnight  after  it  was  done. 
And  many  other  things  be  also  reported  of  me,  which  be  mere  lies  and 

On  the  7th  of  September,  Anne  was  delivered  of  a  daughter— aft;er- 
wards  the  illustrious  queen  Elizabeth.  But  from  the  height  of  her 
greatness,  a  few  intermediate  notices  of  her  life  will  bring  us  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  its  melancholy  close.  That  she  joined  her  husband  in 
his  support  of  religious  reformation  there  cannot  be  a  doubt ;  nor,  on 
the  other  hand,  can  we  deny,  that,  in  the  earlier  part  of  her  residence 
at  court  she  conformed  to  the  Romish  church.   It  has  been  represented 

*  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  More^  in  LWes  of  British  Statesmen  (Lardnei's  Cabinet  Cy« 
rlopiedia),  vol.  i.  p.  77. 

*  Female  Biography,  by  Mary  Hays,  vol.  ii.  p.  10. 

<  Original  Letters,  iUustrative  of  English  History,  edited  by  Mr  Ellis,  Ist  Series. 

Period.]  ANNE  BOLETN.  41 

as  DO  very  uncharitable  way  of  accounting  for  her  renunciation  of  the 
authority  of  Rome,  to  consider  it  as  resulting  from  a  belief  that  it 
would  clear  for  her  a  passage  to  the  throne.  It  might  seem  almost  un- 
natural to  suppose,  that  this  consideration,  and  a  prudent  or  somewnat 
careless  subservience  to  the  will  of  Henry,  had  no  influence  in  deter* 
mining  her  profession  and  her  creed  ;  but,  it  is  also  to  be  considered, 
that  the  question  of  ecclesiastical  authority  became,  about  the  time  of 
her  marriage,  a  subject  of  learned  and  general  debate,  so  that  a  mind  even 
moderately  free  from  Romish  bigotry,  might  be  led  to  a  change  of  opi- 
nion on  the  subject.^  It  is  remarked,  too,  by  Bishop  Burnet,  that  she 
received  impressions  in  favour  of  Protestantism  during  her  residence 
with  the  duchess  of  Alen9on.''  She  chose  Staunton  and  Latimer  as  chap- 
lains ;  and  to  her  influence  has  been  attributed  the  choice  of  Henry  to 
have  the  Bible  translated  into  English,  and  also  an  attempt  which  was 
made  to  accommodate  the  diflerences  with  foreign  Protestants.  She 
also  seems  to  have  been  of  a  kind  disposition.  It  is  said  that,  in  the 
course  of  nine  months,  she  bestowed  upwards  of  £14,000  in  charity ; 
and,  in  a  statute  granting  pardon  to  persons  not  included  in  the  act  of 
attainder,  for  concealment  and  misprision  in  the  matter  of  the  maid  of 
Kent,  the  king  is  represented  as  bestowing  it  '^  at  the  humble  suit  of 
his  well-beloved  wife.  Queen  Anne." 

Two  eminent  ofHcial  characters — Fisher,  bbhop  of  Rochester,  and 
Sir  Thomas  More — fell  victims  to  their  refusal  to  take  the  oath  relative 
to  the  new  succession  to  the  crown.  The  latter  had  set  himself  decid- 
edly against  the  marriage  of  the  king  with  Anne,  and  had  cautioned 
the  bishops  against  attending  at  her  coronation.  But,  when  in  prison, 
and  shortly  before  his  execution,  which  occurred  early  in  July,  1535, 
his  amiable  heart  seemed  to  think  of  her  with  pity.  He  asked  of  his 
daughter,  Margaret  Roper,  how  the  new  queen  was.  "  Never  better,"  she 
replied.  "  Never  better,  Meg  I"  said  More,  "  Alas  I  it  pitieth  me  to 
remember  into  what  miseiy,  poor  soul,  she  shall  shortly  come."  The 
prediction  was  fulfilled — and  in  a  manner  of  which  she  seems  to  have 
little  thought,  when  she  gave  signs  of  satisfaction  on  occasion  of  Cath- 
arine's death,  in  January,  1536.  That  year,  Anne  was  delivered  of  a 
still-bom  son.  To  this  circumstance  a  change  in  Henry's  affection 
has  been  ascribed — a  change  which  was  encouraged  by  her  enemies  of 
the  Romish  church.  On  the  24th  of  April,  there  was  issued  a  com- 
mission to  certain  noblemen  and  judges,  to  inquire  into  allegations 
which  had  been  raised  against  her :  and,  according  to  a  popular  story, 
at  a  tilting  held  at  Greenwich  on  the  1st  of  May,  a  handkerchief  drop- 
ped by  the  queen,  and  picked  up  and  returned  to  her  by  Henry 

*  See  a  summary  of  arj^ments  on  both  sides  of  the  question  between  the  king  and 
the  pope  in  reference  to  ecclesiastical  supremacy,  and  a  representation  of  the  suocessifre 
steps  by  which  the  power  of  the  latter  came  to  be  called  in  question,  in  Burnet's '  His- 
tory of  the  Reformation.'  It  is  not  impossible  that  Henry  himself  was  in  some  de- 
p^ree  influenced  by  the  arguments  adduoud  in  support  of  the  civil  magistrate,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  ecclesiastical  authority—- an  idea  not  inconsistent  with  the  belief  that  there  ia 
truth  in  the  pointed,  but  somewhat  indecorous  line  of  Gray  :— 

<*  And  Gospel  light  first  beamed  ft-om  Bullen's  eyes." 

*  "  Anne  Boleyn,"  says  he,  *  Hist,  of  Reform.'  «  had,  in  the  duchess  of  Aleneon's 
court,  (who  inclined  to  the  reformation),  received  such  impressions  as  made  them"-* 
members  of  one  of  the  English  universities — '*fear  that  her  greatness  and  Cranmer'i 
preferment,  would  encourage  heresy,  to  which  the  universities  vrere  furiously  avene." 

II.  B      " 

42  POLITICAL  SEBIEa  [Focbth 

Norrisy  stirred  the  mind  of  Henry,  who  forthwith  left  the  hall,  and  or- 
dered Anne  to  be  confined  to  her  own  apartments.  At  first  she  was 
cheerfuly  observing,  that  she  thought  the  king  merely  meant  to  try  her». 
but  at  length,  considering  the  matter  as  serious,  she  begged  that  she 
might  partake  of  the  sacrament  On  the  2d  of  May,  her  relative,  the 
duke  of  Norfolk,  conveyed  her  to  the  tower.  On  lading,  she  declared 
her  innocence  of  what  was  alleged  against  her ;  and,  on  hearing  that 
she  was  to  take  up  her  residence  in  that  part  of  the  tower  where  she 
lay  at  the  time  of  her  coronation,  she  exclaimed,  *^  It  is  too  good  for 
me  I  Jesus  have  mercy  upon  me  V*  In  her  imprisonment,  she  was  at- 
tended by  her  uncle's  wife,  lady  Boleyn,  with  whom  she  had  lived  on 
by  no  means  friendly  terms.  Words^  that  she  uttered  in  what  seemed 
a  state  of  hysterical  excitement  were  reported,  and  she  was  cross-exam- 
ined as  to  what  she  had  said.  Hearing  that  Norris,  and  a  musician  of 
the  name  of  Smeaton,  had  accused  her  of  guilt,  she  exclaimed,  ^^  O 
Norris  I  hast  thou  accused  me  ?  Thou  art  in  the  tower  with  me,  and 
we  shall  die  together, — and  thou  too,  Mark  I "  She  acknowledged  that 
certain  free  expressions  had  passed  between  herself  and  Norris,  Smeaton, 
and  an  individual  of  the  name  of  Weston.  Confessions  which  a  milder 
judge  might  have  deemed  a  candid  or  an  extorted  acknowledgment  of 
such  levity  as  was  natural  to  a  rash  and  lively  woman,  though  no  un- 
&ithiul  and  undutiful  wife,  were  not  unlikely  to  be  viewed,  by  Henry 
and  the  enemies  of  Anne,  with  a  harsh  and  suspicious  eye.  She  de- 
clared, however,  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  tower,  that  she  was  '^  clear 
from  the  company  of  men,"  and  "  the  king's  true  wife." 

From  the  tower,  the  queen  was  conveyed  back  to  Greenwich,  where 
she  was  examined  before  the  privy  counciL  On  her  return,  she  com- 
plained that  she  had  "  been  cruelly  handled  by  the  council."  On  the 
10th  of  May,  an  indictment  for  high  treason  was  found  against  her^ 
Lord  Rochford,  Norris,  Smeaton,  Weston,  and  a  gentleman  of  the 
privy-chamber,  of  the  name  of  Brereton.  On  the  12th,  the  four  last 
mentioned  of  these  persons  were  tried,  and  condemned.  All  of  them, 
except  Smeaton,  denied  to  the  last  He  acknowledged  unlawful  inter- 
course with  the  queen ;  but  of  the  circumstances  in  which  the  confession 
was  made,  we  are  in  a  great  measure  ignorant ;  a  circumstance  suggested 
by  a  historian,  to  which,  for  the  sake  of  historical  justice,  it  is  important 
to  advert  On  the  15th,  the  queen,  and  Lord  Rochford,  her  brother, 
who,  it  appears,  had  been  seen  leaning  on  her  bed,  were  tried  within 
the  tower,  whether  for  the  concealment  of  injustice,  or  from  motives 
of  delicacy,  or  for  some  other  reason,  we  shall  not  decide.  After  the 
trial  of  her  brother,  Anne  came  forward  to  the  bar  without  the  attend- 
ance of  any  legal  advisers.  She  appeared  as  her  own  advocate,  and  it 
was  remarked  that  she  delivered  **  a  most  noble  speech."  We  know 
not  that  there  is  any  account,  at  once  copious  and  authentic,  of  the 
trial.  It  appears,  however,  that  Smeaton,  who  had  been  previously 
convicted,  was  not  confronted  with  the  queen  on  this  occasion ;  and 
**  for  the  evidence,"  says  an  old  writer,  "  as  I  never  could  hear  of  any, 
small  I  believe  it  is."  Sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  against  her, 
and,  on  the  17th,  she  was  conveyed  to  Lambeth,  where  Cranmer  pro- 
nounced her  marriage  with  Henry  null,  setting  forth,  that  she  had 
confessed  **  certain,  just,  and  lawful  impediments,"  which  rendered  it 
'<  utterly  void"  from  the  very  first  What  these  alleged  '<  impediments" 

Pehiod.]  AJJNE  BOLETS.  43 

were,  seems  a  point  by  no  means  certain.  The  objection  has  been 
supposed  to  be  a  contract  between  Anne  and  Lord  Percy,  now  earl  of 
Northumberland,  entered  into  before  her  marriage  with  the  king. 
Percy  had  spoken  to  Wolsey  as  if  he  had  given  her  a  pledge  from 
which  it  would  have  been  unsafe  or  dishonourable  in  him  to  withdraw ; 
but  in  a  letter,  dated  a  few  days  before  the  trial  of  the  queen,  he  says  ' 
that  he  had  solemnly  disclaimed  having  entered  into  such  a  contract. 
But  whatever  the  impediments  may  have  been,  it  is  not  without  reason 
that  Burnet  represents  the  sentence  at  the  trial  and  the  decision  of  the 
prelate,  as  somewhat  inconsistent  with  each  other.  '*  Her  marriage  to 
the  king,"  says  he,^^  *^  was  either  a  true  marriage  or  not*  If  it  was 
true,  then  the  annulling  of  it  was  unjust ;  and  if  it  was  no  true  marriage, 
then  the  attainder  was  unjust ;  for  there  could  be  no  breach  of  that 
faith  which  was  never  given," 

After  her  condemnation,  the  queen  possessed  an  air  of  cheerfulness 
and  even  gaiety.  Her  tranquillity  and  satisfaction  in  prospect  of  death 
have,  not  without  reason,  been  suggested  as  an  evidence  of  innocence* 
"  I  hear  I  shall  not  die  before  noon,"  said  she,  on  the  day  of  her 
death,  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  tower ;  <<  I  am  sorry  for  it,  for  I  thought 
to  be  dead  by  this  time,  and  past  my  pain."  He  told  her  there  should 
be  no  psun.  "  I  heard  say,"  said  she,  <*  that  the  executioner  brought 
over  was  more  expert  than  any  in  England.  That  is  very  good,  for  I 
have  a  little  neck,"  putting  her  hands  around  it,  and  laughing  heartily. 
On  the  last  day  of  her  life,  she  again  affirmed  her  innocence ,  and, 
after  stating  that,  in  prospect  of  her  approaching  death,  the  queen, 
remembering  her  severity  towards  the  Lady  Mary,  besought  the  wife 
of  the  lieutenant  of  the  tower,  to  go,  in  her  name,  to  the  princess,  and 
ask  forgiveness  for  the  wrong.  Bishop  Burnet  remarks  on  the  circum- 
stance, as  appearing  to  indicate,  that,  if  Anne  had  been  guilty  of  greater 
^stults,  she  would  not  have  denied  them  to  the  last.  Strong,  however, 
as  are  the  presumptions  in  her  favour,  and  imperfect  as  appears  to  be 
the  evidence  against  her,  we  shall  not  deny  that  her  guilt  or  innocence 
is  an  undetermined,  perhaps  an  undeterminable  question;  a  secret, 
which,  like  so  many  other  points  in  history,  awaits  for  its  decision^- 
the  judgment-seat  of  God. 

The  scaffold  was  erected  within  the  tower.  When  brought  forth  to 
execution  on  the  19th  of  May,  1536,  the  queen  addressed  the  audience 
in  the  following  terms  : — "  Good  Christian  people,  I  am  come  hither 
to  die  according  to  law.  By  the  law  I  am  judged  to  die,  and  therefore 
I  shall  say  nothing  against  it.  I  am  come  hither  to  accuse  no  man,  nor 
to  speak  any  thing  of  that  whereof  I  am  accused.  I  pray,  God  save  the 
king,  and  send  him  long  to  reign  over  you ;  for  a  gentler  or  more  merci- 
ful prince  was  there  never.  To  me  he  was  ever  a  good,  gentle,  and 
sovereign  lord.  If  any  person  will  meddle  with  my  cause,  I  require 
them  to  judge  the  best.  Thus  I  take  my  leave  of  the  world  and  of 
you,  and  I  heartily  desire  you  all  to  pray  for  me."  She  commended 
her  soul  to  Jesus  Christ,  and,  after  some  difficulty  occasioned  by  her 
reluctance  to  have  a  bandage  round  her  eyes,  received  the  fatal  blow. 

When  the  prosecution  of  Anne  Boleyn  commenced,  Henry  had  con- 
ceived an  affection  for  the  beautiful  Jane  Seymour.    This  attachment 

"  History  of  Um  Reformation,  Book  iii. 

i4  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

has  naturally  been  supposed  to  have  influenced  his  behaviour  towards 
Anne.  On  the  very  day  after  the  execution  of  the  queen,  he  married 
Jane»  who  **  was  happy,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,  ^<  in  one  thing,  that  she 
did  not  outlive  his  love." 

BORN  A.  D.  1480. — DIED  A.  D.  1535. 

This  great  man,  so  justly  admired  for  his  virtues,  and  especially  for 
his  political  integrity  when  exposed  to  peculiar  trials,  was  the  son  of 
Sir  John  More,  knight,  one  of  the  judges  of  the  King's  Bench.  He  was 
bom  in  the  year  1480,  in  Milk  street,  London,  and  educated  at  a  school 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood,  under  the  eye  of  his  father,  who  paid 
much  attention  to  his  improvement  The  genius  and  docility  of  the 
son  amply  repaid  the  solicitude  of  the  parent,  who  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  him,  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen,  distinguished  at- college  for 
his  classical  and  scientific  attainments. 

Having  remained  two  years  at  Christ  church,  Oxford,  he  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  law  at  New  inn,  London,  and  subsequently 
at  Lincoln's  inn,  of  which  his  father  was  a  member.  On  being  called 
to  the  bar  he  soon  distinguished  himself,  and  was  beginning  to  acquire 
reputation,  when  his  mind  took  a  sudden  turn  in  favour  of  a  monastic 
life,  and  for  some  time  he  secluded  himself  from  the  world.  In  the 
retirement  of  the  charter-house  he  spent  his  days  and  nights  in  devo- 
tion and  austerities,  such  as  wearing  a  hair-shirt  next  the  skin,  frequent 
festing,  and  sleeping  on  a  bare  plank, — at  the  same  time  prosecuting 
scholastic  studies. 

From  this  course,  however,  he  was  induced  to  swerve  at  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  his  father ;  and  he  once  more  resumed  his  station  at  the 
bar.  On  coming  of  age  he  was  returned  a  member  of  parliament.  Here 
he  opposed  the  motion  for  granting  a  large  subsidy  for  the  marriage  of 
Margaret,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Henry  VH.,  with  James  of  Scotland  ; 
and  with  so  much  vigour  that  the  motion  was  rejected.  The  king,  on 
being  informed  that  "  a  beardless  boy  had  frustrated  all  his  schemes," 
gratified  both  his  resentment  and  his  cupidity  by  committing  More's 
&ther  to  the  tower  on  some  frivolous  charge;  from  whence  he  was 
released  by  paying  a  fine  of  £100. 

The  rising  celebrity  of  young  More  procured  him  the  office  of  law- 
reader  at  Furnival's  Inn ;  and,  by  a  singular  coalition  of  sacred  and 
civil  duties,  he  at  the  same  time  read  public  lectures  in  the  church  of 
St  Lawrence,  Old  Jewry,  on  Augustine's  great  work,  JDe  Civitate  Dei. 
This  latter  occupation  seems  to  have  suited  his  taste  rather  than  the 
former :  indeed,  he  carried  his  ideas  on  religion  so  far  as  to  have  intended 
to  become  a  Franciscan  friar.  This  spell,  however,  was  broken  by  the 
more  powerful  charm  of  a  matrimonial  alliance.  Being  on  a  visit  to 
John  Colt,  Esq.  of  Newhall  in  Essex,  he  was  smitten  with  the  attractions 
of  the  second  of  his  three  daughters ;  but,  by  a  singular  regard  to  pro- 
priety, sacrificed  his  inclinations,  and  made  his  suit  to  the  eldest 
daughter,  lest  she  should  feel  hurt  by  the  preference  for  her  sbter 
For  seven  years,  until  her  death,  this  lady  rewarded  her  husband's  self- 




denial  by  a  grateful  and  tender  affection,  which  was  returced  by  him 
with  equal  tenderness ;  his  social,  lively  turn  endeared  him  to  home, 
and  his  house  was  the  abode  of  comfort  and  peace : — so  different  wa» 
his  present  situation  from  the  monk's  cell  to  which  he  had  before  been 

He  was  now  engaged  at  the  head  of  his  profession  as  a  lawyer ;  and, 
from  his  known  hatred  of  a  bad  cause,  took  the  lead  in  every  thing  at 
the  bar.^  His  eminence  as  a  lawyer  procured  him  in  1508,  even  during 
the  life  of  Henry  VII.,  the  appointment  of  judge  of  the  sheriff's  court 
in  the  city  of  London,  with  other  honourable  distinctions.  Thus  ad- 
vancing in  feme  and  esteem  he  became  particularly  noticed  by  the  man 
who  sat  at  the  helm  of  affairs,  Cardinal  Wolsey,  and  in  1514  he  entered 
upon  a  diplomatic  mission  with  Bbhop  Tonstal  and  Dr  Knight,  who 
were  despatched  by  Henry  to  Flanders  for  the  purpose  of  renewing  the 
alliance  with  the  archduke  of  Austria,  afterwards  Charles  V.  On  his 
return  he  was  offered  a  pension  by  the  king,  which  he  declined, 
but  accepted  the  place  of  master  of  the  requests.  Soon  after  he  was 
created  a  knight,  and  admitted  a  member  of  the  privy  council.  About 
the  same  time,  having  become  a  widower,  he  married  again;  and, 
according  to  Erasmus,  the  lady  would  not  have  appeared  to  possess  any 
attractions  except  in  the  eyes  of  her  devoted  husband.  Being  now 
much  at  court  he  became  a  special  favourite  with  the  king,  who  was 
charmed  with  his  vivacity,  and  consulted  him  freely  on  matters  of  state, 
placing  great  reliance  on  his  judgment  and  temper.*  Sir  Thomas, 
however,  had  the  discernment  to  perceive  the  precarious  tenure  of 
courtly  fevour ;  and,  from  his  affectionate  regard  to  his  fiunily,  and  the 
superior  enjoyment  of  domestic  life,  he  gradually  declined  from  his  fre* 
quent  attendance  at  court,  assuming  purposely  a  more  grave  deport- 
ment in  opposition  to  that  natural  facetiousness  which  made  him  the  life 
of  the  royal  circle. 

The  king,  notwithstanding,  continued  to  bestow  on  his  faithful  ser- 
vant ^e  most  substantial  proofs  of  his  regard ;  and,  on  the  death  of  the 
treasurer  of  the  exchequer,  in  1520,  he  was  appointed  his  successor. 
In  1523,  through  the  influence  of  the  court,  he  was  chosen  speaker  of 
the  house  of  commons.  Here  he  opposed  Wolsey,  and  was  again  the 
means  of  preventing  the  levy  of  an  oppressive  subsidy.  Wolsey  had 
appeared  in  the  house  with  a  royal  message  requiring  the  sum  of 
£800,000,  and  proposing  to  raise  it  by  a  property  tax  of  twenty  per  cent. 
The  cardinal  having  in  vain  attempted  to  break  the  obstinate  silence  of 
the  house,  addressed  himself  to  the  speaker,  who  respectfully  intimated 
to  him  that  no  debate  could  proceed  in  his  presence.  The  cardinal 
aflerward  sent  for  the  speaker :  '*  Would  to  Grod  I"  said  he,  "  Master 
More,  you  had  been  at  Rome,  when  I  made  you  speaker  I"  "  Your 
grace  not  offended,"  he  replied,  ''so  would  I  too,  my  lord."  Such 
was  his  integrity*  however,  that  his  independent  conduct  contributed  to 
his  promotion,  and  in  addition  to  his  other  posts,  the  chancellorship  of 
the  duchy  of  Lancaster  was  bestowed  upon  him,  and  he  was  made 
treasurer  of  the  household.  Henry,  in  short,  seemed  determined  to 
engage  Sir  Thomas  effectually  to  himself,  and  cultivated  the  most 
familiar  acquaintance  with  him — ^frequently  visiting  him  at  Chelsea, 

'  Roper. 

'  Erasmus. 

46  POLITICAL  SEBIES.  [Foubtm 

where  he  had  recently  erected  a  house  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames. 
But  if  Henry  had  discernment  enough  to  value  the  character  of  the 
&vourite,  the  latter  was  not  unmindful  of  the  adage»  that  ^  favour  is  de- 
ceitful.' In  illustration  of  this  remark,  it  is  related,  that  the  king, 
having  been  walking  in  the  gardens  at  Chelsea  for  an  hour,  with  his 
arm  thrown  familiarly  over  Sir  Thomas's  shoulder,  one  of  his  sons-in- 
law  afterwards  observed  to  him  that  he  must  feel  particularly  gratified 
on  being  upon  such  intimate  terms  with  the  king:  to  which  he  replied; 
— -"  I  thank  the  Lord,  I  find  his  Grace  to  be  a  very  good  master  indeed, 
and  believe  he  is  as  partial  to  me,  as  to  any  subject  within  his  realm  : 
but  yet  I  have  no  cause  to  presume  on  his  &vour,  for  if  my  head  could 
win  him  but  a  castle  in  France,  it  would  not  long  remain  on  my 

In  the  years  1526  and  1529,  Sir  Thomas  was  employed  with  Wolsey, 
Tonstal,  and  others,  in  embassies  on  the  continent  He  was  engaged 
also  in  correspondence  with  Erasmus  and  other  learned  men,  and  under- 
took to  defend  the  king  by  a  violent  attack  on  Luther,  who  had  pub- 
lished several  animadversions  on  the  royal  '  Defender  of  the  Faith.' 

During  the  disgraceful  proceedings  against  Queen  Catharine,  and 
while  the  afiair  of  the  divorce  divided  the  country,  Sir  Thomas  inclin- 
ed to  the  side  of  the  queen.  His  opinion  and  conduct  would  have 
great  weight,  and  it  was  by  all  means  desirable,  if  possible,  to  obtain 
his  sanction  to  a  measure  which  the  king  was  resolved  to  carry.  In 
this  view,  as  well  as  on  account  of  his  extraordinary  merits,  when  by 
the  fall  of  Wolsey,  the  great  seal  was  vacant,  that  high  office  was  con- 
ferred on  Sir  Thomas  More.  The  chancellorship  had  usually  been 
held  only  by  dignified  churchmen,^  but  under  the  extraordinary  circum- 
stances of  the  court,  there  were  reasons  why  the  post  should  neither  be 
given  to  them  nor  accepted  by  them.  The  innovation  here  commenced. 
As  a  scholar.  More  was  universally  celebrated ;  as  a  lawyer,  he  had 
practised  long  with  great  reputation,  he  had  much  experience  in  the 
business  of  life,  and  had  executed  with  satisfaction  important  diplomatic 
duties:  even  the  cardinal,  whom  he  had  thwarted,  acknowledged  that 
he  knew  no  one  more  worthy  to  be  his  successor.  On  the  26th  of 
October,  1529,  he  was,  tlierefore,  installed  with  public  honours.  A 
crowd  of  bishops  and  noblemen  accompanied  him  to  the  starchamber : 
and  the  duke  of  Norfolk  conducted  him  to  his  seat,  pronounced  an 
eulogium  on  his  talents  and  virtues,  and  observed  that,  if,  in  this 
instance,  the  king  had  departed  from  ancient  precedent,  he  was  fully 
justified  by  the  superior  merit  of  the  new  chancellor.  More  in  re- 
turn professed  his  obligation  to  the  king  and  to  the  duke ;  and  at  the 
same  time  paid  an  eloquent  compliment  to  the  abilities  of  his  prede- 
cessor, whose  example  would  stimulate  him  to  the  faithful  discharge  of 
his  duty,  and  whose  fall  would  teach  him  to  moderate  his  ambition.^ 
The  chancellor,  by  his  whole  conduct  during  the  short  period  in  which 
he  retained  this  dignity,  fully  justified  the  high  expectations  formed  re- 
specting his  character ;  andj  after  presiding  in  the  court  of  chancery 
two  years,  such  had  been  his  diligence,  that  one  day  on  calling  for  the 
next  cause,  it  was  answered  that  there  was  not  one  then  depending. 

■  Roper. 
«  <« Thorpe,  in  1371»  and  Knivett,  in  1872,  seem  to  be  the  last  exceptions.'*— Z,i/c <{; 
More  inCiwinet  Ubrcary,  *  More's  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 

Fksiod.]  sib  THOMAS  MORE.  47 

Parties  now  nii  high.  The  divorce  of  Catharine  involved  several  ro^ 
ligious  questions  of  great  importance,  and  was  intimately  connected 
with  the  ultimate  renunciation  of  the  papal  authority  in  England*  The 
chancellor,  by  the  king's  desire,  had  discussed  with  the  Doctors  Lee, 
Cranmer,  Fox,  and  Nicholas,  the  lawfulness  of  the  divorce ;  but  the  ap- 
parent weakness  of  their  reasoning  served  only  to  convince  him  of  the 
soundness  of  his  own  opinion ;  and,  at  his  earnest  request,  he  was  in- 
dulged  with  the  permission  to  retire  firom  the  council-chamber  as  often 
as  that  subject  was  brought  under  consideration.  In  the  discharge  of 
his  office,  however,  he  found  himself  unavoidably  engaged  in  matters 
which  he  could  not  reconcile  with  hb  conscience :  and,  at  length  h^ 
tendered  his  resignation  on  the  ground  that  age  and  infirmity  admon- 
ished him  to  give  hb  whole  attention  to  the  concerns  of  his  soul. 
Henry,  who  had  flattered  himself  that  the  repugnance  of  More  would 
gradually  give  way,  was  aware  how  much  his  retirement  would  preju- 
dice the  royal  cause  in  the  mind  of  the  public  But  he  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  suppress  his  feelings ;  dismissed  his  faithful  servant  with  pro- 
fession of  esteem  and  promises  of  future  &vour ;  gave  the  seals  to  Sir 
Thomas  Audeley,  a  lawyer  of  less  scrupulous  conscience,  and  ordered 
the  new  chancellor,  at  his  installation,  to  pronounce  a  eulogy  on  the 
merits  of  his  predecessor,  expressing  at  the  same  time,  the  reluctance 
with  which  the  king  had  accepted  his  resignation.^ 

On  the  day  after  the  resignation,  he  attended  with  his  family  at 
church,  and  heard  mass.  On  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  instead  of 
proceeding  in  state,  he  turned  round  to  his  wife,  and,  with  a  low  bow, 
said,  ^*  Madam,  my  lord  is  gone."  This  was  the  first  intimation  to  his 
family  that  he  had  resigned,  and  produced,  from  the  lips  of  his  disap- 
pointed lady,  a  torrent  of  reproach,  which  he  was  prepared  to  endure 
with  his  accustomed  equanimity. 

Having  thus  made  his  escape  from  court  to  the  beloved  retirement 
of  his  &mily,  his  whole  care  was  to  provide  for  their  comfort,  and  to 
prepare  for  that  fate  which,  amidst  all  the  royal  professions  of  regard, 
he  foreboded.  As  a  proof  of  bis  moderation  and  integrity,  after  filling 
some  of  the  highest  offices  of  state,  and  being  engaged  in  a  lucrative 
profession  for  nearly  twenty  years,  his  annual  income,  on  his  retire- 
ment, did  not  exceed  £100 ;  and,  after  his  debts  were  paid,  not  more 
than  that  amount  remained  to  him  in  money. 

The  time  was  now  approaching  when  the  friend  and  favourite  of 
royalty  was  to  realise  the  truth  of  his  own  predictions.  Much  as 
Henry  might  have  been  attached  to  his  chancellor,  his  inflexibility  on 
the  subject  of  the  divorce,  and  his  refusal  to  assent  to  the  new  doctrine 
of  the  royal  supremacy  in  the  church,  were  quite  sufficient  to  alienate 
the  king  for  ever  firom  him,  and  to  convert  his  favour  into  the  most 
malignant  and  cruel  hatred.  The  king,  with  the  divorce  party,  there- 
fore, commenced  their  persecution  by  inserting  his  name  in  a  bill  of 
attainder  for  misprision  of  treason.  This  charge  was  grounded  on  some 
slight  communications  which  he  had  held  with  Elizabeth  Barton,  the 
maid  of  Kent,  who  had  mingled  political  matters  with  her  pretended 
revelations.  From  this  charge,  however,  Sir  Thomas  defended  himself 
with  such  evidences  that  the  indictment  was  withdrawn.     This  scheme 

'  Mori  epist  ad  Erasmunu 

48  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foubth 

1 ■ ~" — - — — • ■ ■ — ■ —  — 

lutving  {ailed,  in  about  a  fortnight  afterward  he  was  summoned,  with 
Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  to  the  council  at  Lfambeth,  and  required 
to  take  the  new  oath  of  succession.  More,  wfio  was  introduced  first, 
offered  to  swear  to  the  succession  alone,  but  not  to  every  particular  con- 
tained in  the  act,  alleging  that  ^^  the  act  of  parliament  was  like  a  sword 
with  two  edges ;  for  if  a  man  answer  one  way,  it  will  destroy  the  soul, 
and  if  he  answer  another,  it  will  destroy  the  body/'  The  answer  of 
the  bbhop  being  substantially  the  same,  they  were  both  committed  to 
the  tower.  Being  attainted  again  of  misprision  of  treason,  for  refusing 
the  oath,  he  became  subject  to  the  loss  of  all  his  property  and  to  per- 
petual imprisonment.  After  a  rigorous  confinement  of  fifteen  months 
in  the  tower,  during  which  time  he  was  supported  by  the  charity  of 
his  friends,  conveyed  by  the  hands  of  his  favourite  daughter,  Margaret 
Roper,  he  was  at  length  placed  a  prisoner  at  the  bar  of  that  very  court; 
in  which  he  had  presided  as  judge  with  universal  applause.  To  make 
the  greater  impression,  he  was  conducted  on  foot,  through  the  most 
frequented  streets,  from  the  tower  to  Westminster-hall.  He  appeared 
in  a  coarse  woollen  gown  ;  his  hair,  which  had  lately  become  grey,  his 
foce,  which,  though  cheerfiil,  was  pale  and  emaciated,  and  the  staff  with 
which  he  supported  his  feeble  steps,  announced  the  length  and  severity 
of  his  confinement,  and  a  general  feeling  of  horror  and  sympathy  ran 
through  the  spectators. 

TLe  indictment  had  been  framed  of  enormous  length  and  unexampled 
exaggeration.  As  soon  as  it  had  been  read,  the  chancellor,  who  was 
assisted  by  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  Fitzjames,  the  chief  justice,  and  six 
other  commissioners,  informed  the  prisoner  that  it  was  still  in  his  power 
to  close  the  proceedings  and  to  recover  the  royal  favour,  by  abjuring 
his  former  opinion.  With  expressions  of  gratitude  he  declined  the 
favour,  and  commenced  a  long  and  eloquent  defence.  Though,  he 
observed,  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  recollect  one  third  part  of  the 
indictment,  he  would  venture  to  comprise  its  contents  under  four  heads. 
1.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  objected  to  him  as  an  offence,  that  he  had 
disapproved  of  the  king's  marriage  with  Anne  Boleyn.  He  acknow- 
ledged the  charge ;  but  then  his  disapprobation  had  never  been  com- 
municated to  any  other  person  than  the  king  himself:  and  not  even  to 
the  king,  till  Henry  had  commanded  him,  on  his  allegiance,  to  disclose 
his  real  sentiments.  In  such  circumstances,  to  dissemble  would  have 
been  a  crime, — ^to  speak  with  sincerity  was  a  duty.  2.  He  was 
next  charged  with  having  traitorously  sought  to  deprive  the  king  of 
his  title  of  head  of  the  church.  But  where  was  the  proof?  That, 
on  his  examination  in  the  tower,  he  had  said,  that  he  was  by  his 
attainder  become  civilly  dead :  that  he  was  out  of  the  protection  of  the 
law,  and,  therefore,  could  not  be  required  to  give  an  opinion  of  the 
merits  of  the  law :  and  that  his  only  occupation  was,  and  would  be,  to 
meditate  on  the  passion  of  Christ,  and  to  prepare  himself  for  his  own 
death.  But,  what  was  there  of  crime  in  such  an  answer  ?  It  contained 
no  word,  it  proved  no  deed  against  the  statute.  All  that  could  be 
objected  against  him  was  silence ;  and  silence  had  not  yet  been  declared 
treason.  3.  It  was  maintained  that,  in  different  letters  written  by  him 
in  the  tower,  he  had  exhorted  Bishop  Fisher  to  oppose  the  supremacy. 
He  denied  it.  Let  the  letters  be  produced ;  by  their  contents  he  was 
willing  to  stand  or  fall.    4.  But  Fisher,  on  his  examination,  had  held 

^£EiOD.]  SIR  THOMAS  MORE.  49 

the  same  language  as  More,  a  proof  of  a  conspiracy  between  them. 
What  Fisher  had  said  he  knew  not :  but  it  could  not  excite  surprise,  if 
the  similarity  of  their  case  had  suggested  to  each  similar  ideas.  This 
he  could  afiurm  with  truth,  that  whatever  might  be  his  own  opinion^  he 
had  never  communicated  it  to  any,  not  even  to  his  dearest  friends. 

This  defence,  how  reasonable  soever  it  may  appear,  availed  nothing. 
New  charges  were  brought  forward.  Rich,  the  solicitor-general,  deposed 
ttiat,  in  a  private  conversation  in  the  tower.  More  had  said :  ''  The 
parliament  cannot  make  the  king  head  of  the  church,  because  it  is  a 
civil  tribunal,  without  any  spiritual  authority."  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
prisoner  denied  this  statement,  showing  that  such  a  declaration  was 
inconsistent  with  the  caution  which  he  had  always  observed;  and 
maintained  that  no  one  acquainted  with  the  former  character  of  Rich 
would  believe  him,  even  on  his  oath.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  two 
witnesses,  who  were  brought  to  support  the  charge,  eluded  the  expecta-* 
tion  of  the  accuser,  by  declaring,  that,  though  they  were  in  the  room, 
they  did  not  attend  to  the  conversation :  the  judges  maintained  that 
the  silence  of  the  prisoner  was  a  sufficient  proof  of  malicious  intention ; 
and  the  jury,  without  reading  over  the  copy  of  the  indictment  which 
had  been  given  them,  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

As  soon  as  the  sentence  had  been  pronounced,  More  attempted,  and, 
afler  two  interruptions,  was  suffered  to  address  the  court.  He  would 
now,  he  said,  openly  avow,  what  he  had  hitherto  concealed  from  every 
human  being,  his  conviction  that  the  oath  of  supremacy  was  unlawfuL 
it  was  indeed^  painful  to  him  to  differ  from  the  noble  lords  whom  he 
saw  on  the  bench  ;  but  his  conscience  compelled  him  to  bear  testimony 
to  the  truth.  This  world,  however,  had  always  been  a  scene  of  dissen- 
sion and  he  still  cherished  a  hope  that  the  day  would  come,  when  both 
he  and  they,  like  Stephen  and  Saul,  would  be  of  the  same  sentiment  in 
heaven.  As  he  returned  from  the  bar,  his  son  threw  himself  on  his  knees, 
and  begged  his  father's  blessing ;  and,  as  he  walked  back  to  the  tower^ 
his  daughter  Margaret  twice  rushed  through  the  guards,  folded  him 
in  her  arms,  and,  unable  to  speak,  bathed  him  with  her  tears.  When 
told  that  the  king,  as  a  special  &vour,  had  commuted  his  punishment 
to  decapitation,  "  God,"  he  replied,  "  preserve  all  my  friends  from  such 
favours ! "' 

Afler  the  lapse  of  five  days  from  his  trial,  he  was  brought  forth  foi 
execution,  on  Tower-hill,  on  the  6th  of  July,  1535.  His  firmness  did 
not  for  a  moment  desert  hun,  nor  even  his  usual  flow  of  humour* 
When  ascending  the  stairs  of  the  scaffold,  and  observing  they  were 
weak,  he  desired  one  of  the  sheriff's  officers  to  give  him  his  hand  to 
help  him  up,  saying,  **  When  I  come  down  again,  let  me  shift  for  my- 
self as  well  as  I  can.*'  On  the  scaffold,  the  executioner  asked  his  for- 
giveness. He  kissed  him,  saying,  "  Thou  wilt  render  me  to-day  the 
greatest  service  in  the  power  of  any  mortal ;  but,"  (putting  an  angel  in- 
to his  hand^)  "  my  neck  is  so  short  that  I  fear  thou  wilt  gain  little  cre- 
dit in  the  way  of  thy  profession."  As  he  was  not  permitted  to  address 
the  spectators,  he  contented  himself  with  declaring  that  he  died  a  faith- 
ful subject  to  the  king,  and  a  sure  Catholic  before  God.  When  he  had 
laid  his  head  on  the  block  to  receive  the  mortal  stroke,  he  perceived  that 

'  Roper. 
II.  G 


his  beard  had  got  nnder  his  chin,  whereupon  hastily  rising  up,  he  bade 
fhe  executioner  stay  a  little  till  he  had  put  his  beard  aside,  since,  hav- 
ing committed  no  treason,  it  was  not  just  it  should  be  cut  off.  At  one 
blow  his  head  was  severed  from  his  body.  This  was  at  first  interred 
in  the  tower,  but  his  daughter  Margaret  afterward  obtained  it  and  depo- 
sited it  in  tiie  chancel  of  the  church  at  Chelsea,  where  a  monument, 
with  an  inscription  written  by  himself,  had  been  some  time  previously 
erected.  His  head,  after  an  exposure  of  fourteen  days  on  London 
bridge,  was  also  procured  by  Margaret  Roper,  and  placed  by  her  in  a 
vault  belonging  to  her  husband's  family,  under  a  chapel  adjoining  to 
St  Dunstan's  church,  in  Canterbury. 

Thus  fell  Sir  Thomas  More,  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  a  mar- 
tyr to  the  papal  supremacy  in  England,  and  to  a  conscientious  adherence 
to  the  Roman  Catholic  religion*  in  all  its  substantial  character.  Re- 
formation of  gross  abuses  and  corruptions  he  would  have  admitted ; 
but  innovation  he  firmly  opposed.  Doubtless  he  was  sincere,  and  must 
dierefore  be  respected  for  his  consistency.  He  had,  indeed,  abetted 
the  numerous  and  cruel  persecutions  of  the  reformed,  and  had  endea- 
voured most  strenuously  to  suppress  the  writings  of  Luther  in  England, 
and  the  new  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  by  Tindal,  into  English. 
This  he  no  doubt  did  on  principle,  thinking  that  he  "  was  thereby  doing 
God  service  :"  and  however  we  may  lament  his  error,  we  should  im- 
pute it  chiefly  to  the  darkness  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  With  this 
concession,  still  it  must  be  admitted  that  such  men  as  More  should  have 
been  divested  of  prejudice  sufficient  to  allow  the  darkness  to  be  dissi- 
pated by  the  day-spring  of  divine  truth,  nor  have  attempted  to  per- 
petuate the  gloom  of  monkish  ignorance  and  superstition  overspreading 
a  nation.  The  glorious  light  of  truth  and  liberty  was  then  dawn- 
ing upon  our  land,  by  the  diffusion  of  the  holy  scriptures,  and  it 
was  in  vain  that  every  effort  was  made  by  authority  to  extinguish  the 
heavenly  beams.  Tonstal,  bishop  of  London,  employed  one  Packing- 
ton,  an  English  merchant,  to  buy  up  one  half  of  Tindal  s  first  edition 
of  his  New  Testament,  for  the  purpose  of  burning  the  copies  in  Cheap- 
side.  This  enabled  Tindal  to  print  a  second  and  improved  edition, 
which  was  imported  firom  Antwerp.  Lord-chancellor  More,  inquiring 
who  it  was  that  supported  and  encouraged  Tindal,  was  told  that  it  was 
the  bishop  of  London,  who  had  bought  up  half  the  old  impression. 
This  raised  the  lau^gh  against  More  and  the  bishop.  But  they  should 
have  seen  the  impohcy  of  continuing  their  system  of  persecution  against 
such  a  cause.  And  it  seems  the  more  strange  that  Sir  Thomas  More 
should  have  promoted  such  bloody  persecutions,  which  must  have  been 
abhorrent  to  his  nature,  when  he  says,  in  his  Utopia,  written  in  young- 
er years,  that  "  the  Utopians  allow  liberty  of  conscience,  and  force  their 
religion  upon  nobody :  that  they  hinder  none  from  a  sober  inquiry  into 
truth,  nor  use  any  violence  upon  the  account  of  a  different  belief.** 
These  very  Utopians,  in  the  persons  of  the  reformed,  he  and  his  col- 
leagues burned  at  the  stake.  Three  centuries,  however,  have  convert- 
ed the  fabulous  laws  of  Utopia  into  the  established  principles  of  Christ- 
endom ;  and  Sir  Thomas  More  would  now  be  as  strenuous  an  advocate 
fbr  liberty  of  conscience  as  he  was  formerly  a  conscientious  persecutor 
of  conscientious  sufferers. 

Sir  Thomas  More  was  a  man  of  literary  habits  and  character,  as  well 

Pbseoo.1  CBOMWELL,  £ABL  OF  ESSEX.  51 

as  a  mas  of  biuiiiew.  Besides  wnai»taining  canstant  eanreqpondenoe 
with  tke  learned  in  Europe,  iie  wrote  many  works,  principally  of 
a  polemieal  ckaraeter :  his  Utopia,  howeirer,  is  the  oidy  work  which 
distingiilshes  him  as  a  writer.  His  English  works  were  collect- 
ed and  published  by  order  of  Queen  Mary,  in  1557 ;  his  Latin,  at  Ba- 
sil, in  1563,  and  at  Louvain,  in  1566.  On  the  whole,  lor  integrity, 
disintereste^ess,  domestic  affection,  and  diligence  and  fidelity  in  great 
poblic  duties,  i$ir  Thomas  More  stands  a  pattern  and  an  omameat  to 
the  English  nation. 

DIED  A,  D.  1540L 

The  father  of  this  distingubhed  minister  of  Henry  VIIL  followed  the 
humble  business  of  a  blacksmith,  at  Putney,  in  the  county  of  Surrey.  At 
his  native  place,  young  Cromwell  received  an  imperfect  education,  and 
thereafter,  prompted,  perhaps,  by  an  ardour  of  disposition  destined  to 
open  up  hk  way  to  the  lofty  station  which  he  subsequently  filled,  ho 
left  his  country  for  the  continent.  At  Antwerp,  he  found  en^loyment 
in  the  English  factory.  He  afterwards  served  under  the  duke  of  Bour- 
bon, and  is  said  to  have  been  present  at  the  sack  of  Rome,  in  1528. 
This  connection  may  have  had  some  influence  in  leading  him  to  those 
Protestant  sentiments  which  he  afterwards  professed.^ 

On  returning  to  England,  Cromwell  became  a  confidential  servant 
to  Cardinal  Wolsey,  with  whose  fidling  glories  his  name  has  been  so 
indissolubly  combined  by  Shak^^eare^  not  without  historical  reason, 
though  perhaps  not  without  the  licence  of  a  poet  in  regard  to  the  details.' 
The  actual  part  which  Cromwell  took  on  occasion  of  his  master's 
fall  corresponded  with  the  tribute  to  his  fidelity  which  the  dramatist 
puts  into  the  mouth  of  Wolsey.  It  is  recorded,  to  the  honour  of  the 
former,  that  when  the  fallen  minister  was  unable  to  pay  his  servants 
daring  his  residence  at  Esher,  Cromwell  proposed  that  a  subscription 
should  be  made  among  those  who  had  shared  in  the  cardinal's  bounty 
— ^which  subscription  was  carried  into  effect,  and  headed  by  Cromwell 
himself.     On  another  occasion,  when  the  charge  against  the  cardinal, 

'  *'  Of  this  sect,*'  says  Sir  Thomas  More,  speaking  of  the  Lutherans,  '<  was  the  ffrent 

Eart  of  those  ungracious  people,  which  of  late  entered  Rome  with  the  duke  of  Hour- 
on." — Dudogne  touching  the  pestilent  §ect  of  Luther,  In  regard  to  the  number  here 
stated  by  Sir  Thomas,  however,  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  his  life  of  Sir  Thomas  More^ 
f  Lives  of  British  Statesmen^)  remarks,  that  It  is  **  a  violent  exaggeration." 

*  King  Henry  VIIL^  Aet  TL,  Se.  8.  It  is  by  a  conception  at  once  moral  and  pathe- 
tic, that  the  cardinal,  bereft  of  his  honours  by  the  powerful  hand  that  conferred  them, 
is  in  this  scene  represented  as  Inculcating  on  a  faithful  servant,  likely  to  rise  at  court,  a 
more  virtuous  course  than  that  which  he  himself  had  pursued.  From  history,  how. 
ever,  it  appears  to  liave  been  to  Kingston,  the  constable  of  the  tower,  soon  before  the 
cardinal's  death,  that  he  uttered  those  celebrated  expressions,  addressed,  in  the  play, 
to  Cromwell :» 

^  Had  I  but  sarred  my  God  with  half  the  seal 
I  served  my  kino-,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 
Hare  left  me  naked  to  mine  euemles.** 

It  may  be  added,  that  the  compliment  which,  in  the  course  of  this  scene,  Wolsey  pays  to 
the  icing,—*'  I  know  his  noble  nature,*'— -and  also  the  allusions  to  the  likelihood  tiiat 
Cn>mwell  would  rise  at  court,  correspond  to  other  parts  of  the  same  interview  vrith  8ir 
W.  Kingston,  as  may  be  seen  from  Hume's  SRstory  of  England^  ch.  xxx. 

•greed  to  by  the  house  of  lords  in  November,  1529,  came  down  to 
the  house  of  commons,  Cromwell  defended  his  master's  cause  in  a 
style  which  has  not  only  gained  him  honour,  but  has  been  considered 
as  having  occasioned  the  triumph  of  Wolsey  over  the  articles  in  ques- 
tion, and  laid  a  foundation  for  Cromwell's  own  advancement  at  the 
court  of  Henry. 

On  Wolsey's  death,  Cromwell  devoted  himself  to  the  service  of  the 
king,  to  whom  he  is  said  to  have  been  recommended  by  Sir  Cristopher 
Hales  and  Sir  John  Russel,  the  latter  of  whom  had  been  indebted  to 
htm  for  an  escape  from  danger  on  the  continent.  Shortly  after  giving 
a  bold  specimen  of  his  political  skill,  and  of  his  disposition,  it  may  be, 
to  gratify  his  master,  by  drawing  from  the  clergy,  with  royal  authority, 
the  sum  of  £118,840,  on  the  allegation,  that  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  pope,  taken  by  the  bishops  at  their  consecration,  was  illegal,  he 
received  the  honour  of  knighthood,  and  was  admitted  to  the  privy 
council.     To  use  the  words  of  Shakspeare, 

"  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Wliich,  taken  at  the  Hood,  leads  on  to  fortune.^ 

Cromwell,  it  seems,  had  *^  taken  the  current  when  it  served,"  and  we 
have  now  to  follow  him  in  a  triumphant  course  of  political  advancement. 
In  1534,  he  was  appointed  secretary  of  state,  and  also  master  of  the 
rolls.  The  same  year,  he  became  chancellor  of  the  university  of 
Cambridge.  When  the  validity  of  the  king's  second  marriage  was  op- 
posed by  Sir  Thomas  More,  Cromwell,  as  a  friend  of  that  bigotted,  but 
gentle  and  illustrious  man,  united  with  Cranmer,  in  attempting  to  pre- 
vail on  him  to  yield  in  his  resistance.  Nor  was  their  friendly  attempt 
entirely  without  effect,  though  it  was  with  such  as  ultimately  proved 
insufficient  to  save  Sir  Thomas  from  his  speedily  approaching  fate. 
Cromwell  seemed  to  perceive  the  result  of  Mere's  refusal,  and  declared 
that  he  would  rather  that  his  son  had  lost  his  head  than  that  his  friend 
should  have  declined  the  oath  proposed  to  him.  <<  Cromwell,"  adds  a 
late  biographer  of  More,'  with  undue  severity  perhaps,  "  Cromwell  was 
not  a  good  man,  but  the  gentle  virtue  of  More  subdued  even  the  bad." 
Sir  Thomas  himself  acknowledges  that  Cromwell  "  tenderly  favoured 

t  •     ft 

The  attachment  of  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  to  the  delusion  of  *  the 
Maid  of  Kent,'  was  another  subject  that,  about  this  time,  occupied  the 
attention  of  Cromwell,  who  wrote  the  bishop  a  letter,  urging  him  to 
ask  the  king's  forgiveness,  but  sharp  and  severe  in  style,  to  a  degree, 
indeed,  which,  in  our  own  day  would  be  reckoned  insolent.  In  1534, 
Henry,  on  being  invested  with  ecclesiastical  supremacy  in  England, 
appointed  Cromwell  his  vicar-general  and  vice-gerent,*  in  virtue  of 
which,  the  king's  supremacy  was  in  a  great  degree  committed  to  the 
minister,  who  carried  on,  by  means  of  commissioners,  a  severe  inquiry 
into  the  state  of  the  English  monasteries.  Much  discontent  was  created 
by  the  sweeping  measures  against  the  ecclesiastical  institutions  which 
Henry  and  his  minister  pursued*     Cromwell,  accordingly,  was  looked 

*  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  in  Uv$$  of  British  Statesmen,  p.  91. 
*  Burnet  says,  that  for  two  years  Cromwell  was  only  vicar-^eneral,  but  that  after 
0eiving  a  second  coqo mission  In  July  ISS^  he  was  called  vice-^erefil, 


■j.t.»-^   wTMr-r-J''" 

W      ^  «>  ^    1 


Pbbiod.]  CROMWELL,  EABL  OF  ESSEX.  63 

on  witii  particular  dislike,  and  in  the  northern  rebellion  of  1586,  it  was 
proposed  by  an  assembly  of  the  rebels,  as  one  of  their  terms  of 
agreement  with  the  king,  that  he,  as  well  as  Audeley,  the  lord-chan- 
cellor, should  be  excluded  from  the  next  parliament.  The  king,  in  his 
reply  to  their  address,  denied  that  he  had  fewer  of  noble  birth  in  his 
council  then  than  were  in  it  Vhen  he  came  to  the  crown,  and  stated 
th»t  be  and  his  council  had  thought  it  expedient  to  have  members  who 
understood  English  law  and  foreign  treaties,  and  had  accordingly 
brought  in  the  lord-chancellor  and  Cromwell.  Nor,  probably,  did  the 
latter  stretch  his  power  to  the  utmost  against  the  Romanists.' 

When,  amidst  the  ecclesiastical  convulsions  of  Henry's  eventful 
reign,  religious  doctrines  were  to  be  settled  as  well  as  religious  institu* 
fcions  changed,  the  vicar-general  supported  the  reformation  by  publish- 
ing certain  articles  of  faith  a?  decided  varianoe  with  the  Romish  creed, 
— by  encouraging  a  new  translation  of  the  Bible, — by  prohibiting,  in 
the  king's  name,  pilgrimages,  and  other  superstitions, — and  by  joining 
the  duke  of  Suffolk  and  others  in  remonstrating  with  Henry  against 
cruelty  in  the  execution  of  ^  the  six  articles '  against  heresy,  passed  in 
1539«  That  infamous  law  the  vicar-general  himself  had  not  succeeded 
in  effectually  resisting — whether  or  not  from  excess  of  cantion  in  a 
matter  which  roused  even  Cranmer's  mind  to  public  opposition,  it  may 
be  impossible  to  say.  But  five  hundred  persons  being  imprisoned  in 
1539,  for  the  breach  of  these  articles,  Cromwell,  along  with  Audeley 
and  others,  remonstrated  with  the  king.  Henry  pardoned  the  prison* 
ers,  and,  says  Burnet,  **  I  find  no  further  proceeding  upon  this  statute 
until  Cromwell  fell."  ®  When  this  act  was  passed,  the  king  sent  Crom- 
well, and  also  the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  to  console  Cranmer 
for  his  disappointment  on  the  occasion.  If  this,  however,  was  an  act 
ef  cordiality -towards  the  archbishop,  it  seems  to  have  failed  of  promot- 
ing friendly  feeling  between  Cromwell  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk ;  for  it 
is  recorded  by  Burnet,''  that  on  the  former  remarking  that  he  had  never 
liked  the  manners  of  his  master  Wolsey,  and  that,  although  the  cardi- 
nal had  meant,  if  created  pope,  to  make  him  his  admiral,  he  had  resolved 
not  to  accept  of  the  office  and  abandon  his  country,  the  duke  declared 
Chat  he  liecU^ 

■  That  Cromwell  was,  in  many  points  attached  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
Protestants  there  is  no  sufficient  reason  to  deny.  But,  in  1538,  he 
pronounced  sentence  against  tlie  schoolmaster  Lambert,  after  the  debate 
between  the  king  and  that  reputed  heretic,  respecting  the  corporeal 
presence,  had  felled  of  leading  the  latter  to  recant*  He  had  now  been 
advanced  to  the  peerage,  and  that  honour,  besides  his  appointment  to 
the  office  of  keeper  of  the  privy-seal,  and,  thereafter,  to  that  of  chief- 
justice  and  the  order  of  the  garter,  was  crowned  at  last  with  the  title  of 
earl  of  Essex  and  the  official  post  of  lord-high-chamberlain  ;  previously 
CO  which  appointments  he  had  been  pronounced,  in  virtue  of  his  eccle- 
siastical office,  first  in  precedence  of  the  officers  of  state*  But  the 
attainment  of  lofty  honours  prepared  for  his  more  miserable  fell.  He 
had  taken  an  active  part  in  recommending  to  the  king  a  marriage  with 
Anne  of  Cleves,  in  order,  it  is  supposed,  to  subdue  the  popish  partyj 
which  had  gained  considerable  inHuence  at  court     The  marriage  took 

■    '  History  of  the  ReformAUon  book  iii.        •  Biimet,  book  iU.        *  Ibid. 

*  jSumet,  book  iii. 


plaee^  but  it  prored  distntefiil  to  tlie  rajal  ftncy ;  and  Gromweirs 
eomwxion  with  the  matter  has  been  loi^posed  to  have  led  to  his  over* 
throw*  It  was  after  that  manriage  had  been  coosiiniiQated,  indeed,  and 
even  after  Henry  hioMelf  had  eipressed  to  CromweU  dissatisfiwtioD 
with  the  qaeen»  that  tlie  minister  leoeiTed  from  him  the  title  of  earl  of 
Essex.  Nor  is  it  oonsistent,  perhaps,  with  the  frank  and  beadstrong 
diaracter  of  Henry,  to  suppose  that  bis  conferring  that  distinction  was 
intended  merely  as  a  doak  to  an  actual  intention  of  reducing  his 
minister  to  rain,  or  with  the  importance  of  the  benefit  conferred,  to 
regard  it  as  meieiy  an  instance  of  that ''  enforced  ceremony,''  described 
by  the  poet,  as  usual  "  when  love  begins  to  sicken  and  decay."'  But 
the  doke  of  Norfolk,  who  had  long  been  opposed  to  Cromwdl,  and 
on  whose  daugbter,  Catharine  Howwd,  Henry,  about  this  time  set  liis 
affiBCtions,  is  represented  as  using  her  infiftenoe  to  degrade  ins  rival  ua 
tiK  Icing's  esteem;  and  although  it  was  probably  not  until  the  crawmng 
hoooors  of  CromweU  had  been  granted,  that  Henry's  old  r^ard  for  hn 
servant  was  overthrown,  3ret,  prepared  by  his  passion  for  Catharine 
Howard,  to  view  it  as  a  matter  of  self-interest,  that  he  should  treat  as 
wdMbonded,  or  even  to  regard  as  such,  her  insinuations  against  Crom* 
weU^  seconded,  as  perhaps  they  were,  by  others  who  looked  on  the 
fovourite  with  an  evil  eye,  he  ini^t  be  led  to  take  a  distorted  view  ol 
Cromwell's  conduct,  in  recoaunendii^  to  him  a  marriage  with  Anne  ol 
Cleves,  and  thus  even  hasten  his  minister  to  ruin.  'So€  is  this  exf^ana^ 
tion  of  tiie  king's  <^f)position  to  Cromwell  inconsistent  with  attributing 
it,  in  some  degree^-as  Bishop  Burnet  has  done^*^ — to  an  indisposition  on 
the  part  of  Henry  to  mde  witb  the  Grerman  princes  against  the  en^rcMr, 
and  a  wish  to  rid  himself  of  the  blame  of  what  had  been  consuiered 
wrong  in  his  recent  policy. 

Norfolk,  the  enemy  of  Crmnwell,  was  employed  in  arresting  him. 
This  be  did  at  the  council-table,  and  from  the  highest  place  of  hmiour 
the  unfortunate  minister  was  carried  to  the  tower.  The  day  following* 
Cramner  wrote  in  bis  favour  to  Henry,  declaring  that  he  thought  never 
had  king  of  England  such  a  servant.  A  bill  of  attainder,  however,  was 
brought  into  the  house  of  lords  oo  the  17th  of  June,  and,  on  the  19th, 
read  a  second  and  a  third  time,  and  sent  down  to  the  commcms.  There 
it  stopped,  but  a  new  bill  was  framed,  sent  up  to  the  house  of  lords, 
and  pMsed.  The  act  of  attainder  declares  that  Cromwell  had  proved 
**  the  most  corrupt  traitor  and  deceiver  of  the  Idng  and  the  crown  that 
had  ever  been  known  in  his  whole  reign." 

Harsh  and  subservient  as  his  procedure  on  some  occasions  was,  the 
onfostuoate  minister,  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity,  had  not  been  wifJioat 
such  qualities  of  intellect  and  heart  as  may  induce  us  to  regard  him,  in 
the  words  of  Hume^  as  **  worthy  of  a  better  master  and  of  a  better  tate.** 
Defective  as  his  eaiiy  education  was,  he  could  speak  and  write  in  the 
German,  French,  and  Italian  languages,  and  his  correspondence  and. 
p<^tical  measures  evince  an  energetic  mind.  Though  he  seems  to 
have  had  many  enemies^— as  might  have  been  expected  firom  the  vigcmr, 

'  We  obsenre  that  Bishop  Burnet  is  of  the  same  opinion  on  this  pdnt    **  Thia^**  a&yn 
he,  speaking  of  the  ftict  tliat  CromweU  was  created  eari  of  Essex,  so  late  as  the  14(h  ol 
April,  1510,  **  This  shows  that  the  true  cause  of  Crom%reU's  Ihll  must  be  found  in  suam 
other  thini;  than  his  making  up  the  king's  manriMre,  who  luid  never  thus  raised  his  tilto 
if  he  had  intended  so  toon  to  puU  him  ifown."  Hutary  of  the  Btformathn,  Book  ilL 

10  Burnet,  Book  iU. 


perlMtps  the  iDequitaye  vigour,  of  kb  meisares,  tke  meanneiis  of  his 
birth,  and  probably  his  subeervience  to  the  pleasure  of  the  kii^ — ^he 
was  kind  to  his  sarants  and  charitable  to  the  poor.  He  appears  to 
have  been  remarkable  lor  freedom  from  overbearing  haughtiness  towards 
his  inferiors,  and  for  the  gratefiil  recollection  of  benefits  received  at  a 
huml^er  period  of  his  life.  Of  the  latter  quality  the  following  plcsasing 
instance  is  reccMrded.  When  in  Italy,  being  in  great  distress,  oo  occa* 
bion  of  a  defeat  sustained  by  the  French  army  at  Castiglione,  he  was 
taken  notice  of  by  a  merchant  of  the  name  of  Frescobald,  who  gave 
him  sixteen  gold  dueals,  and  provided  for  his  passage  to  his  native 
country.  This  dbaritable  merchant  was  himself  reduced  to  exigence, 
in  which  condition  he  was  met,  in  England,  by  Cromwell,  who,  now  a 
man  of  emineace,  reeognized  and  assisted  him  who,  in  earlier  days,  had 
so  liberally  befnended  him.  But  neither  the  virtues  nor  the  services 
of  Cromwell  prevailed  on  the  kii^,  to  reverse  his  condemnation; 
although  a  letter,  written  from  the  tower,  by  the  stricken  minister, 
appealing  in  pathetic  terms  to  the  loyal  demency,  is  said  to  have 
drawn  tears  from  Henry's  eyes.  ^*  The  frail  flesh,"  says  the  doleful 
pris<Hier,  <<  incites  me  to  call  to  your  Graces  for  mercy  and  pardon  ol 
mine  ofiences."  But  mercy  was  denied,  and,  cm  the  28th  of  July, 
1540,  he  was  executed  on  Tower-hilL  He  acknowledged  himself  a 
sinner  against  God  and  his  prince,  and  also  confessed  that  he  had  been 
seduced  frt>m  the  true  doctrine,  declaring,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  died 
in  the  Catholic  faith.  What  he  meant  to  intimate  by  this  declaration 
it  may  be  impossible  to  ascertain  with  certainty,  but  Burnet  thinks 
that,  by  the  Catholic  faith,  is  to  be  understood,  not  the  creed  of  the 
Popish  church,  but  the  Christian  faith  as  separated  from  the  novelties 
which  that  church  had  incorporated  with  it,  and  argues,  from  his 
praying  in  the  English  tongue,  and  only  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ, 
that  Cromwell  was  no  papist.^^ 

S^taSSotH,  99uite  of  3Sucittnfft)am. 

DIED  A.  D.  1521. 

Edward  Stafford,  duke  of  Buckingham,  was  the  fifth  in  descent 
from  Anne  Plantagenet,  daughter  and  heiress  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock, 
the  youngest  son  of  Edward  UI.  All  his  ancestors  for  upwards  of  a 
century  back  had  died  violent  deaths  in  the  field  or  on  the  scaffold ; 
and  he  was  doomed  to  no  milder  fiite.  It  b  said  that  he  had  ventured 
to  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  crown,  and  that  one  Hopkins,  prior  of  the 
charter  house  at  Henton,  who  pretended  to  the  gift  of  prophecy,  had 
encouraged  his  vain  hopes^  His  ambitious  dreams  were  not  unknown 
to  Henry,  who  caused  him  to  be  arrested  in  1521,  on  a  charge  of  trea* 
Bon.     Befere  the  duke  of  Norfolk  as  high-steward  and  a  jury  of  seven* 

"  History  of  the  Reformatum,  book  ii!. — ^We  know  not  whether  Cromwell's  confession 
at  his  execution  dictated  the  following  remark  of  an  anonymous  biographer  of  Cranmen 
-*-a  remark  which  seems  scarcely  consistent  with  the  tenor  of  l3s  life :— **  Cromwell 
was  not  at  heart  a  friend  of  the  Reformation— but  being  hated  and  despised  by  the 
adherents  of  the  old  worship,  he  was  thrown,  by  a  spirit  of  revenge,  among  the  leaders 
of  tlie  new  learning.*'— lives  ofSritith  Statttmen,  toL  L 

56  POLITICAL  SEHIES.  [Focrth 

teen  other  peen,  he  was  charged  with  having  encouraged  Hopkins  to 
utter  these  pretended  prophetical  announcements  of  his  future  grandeur^ 
— ^with  having  corrupted  the  fidelity  and  allegiance  of  the  king's  servants 
and  endeavoured  to  attach  some  of  them  to  his  own  interests, — and  with 
having  declared  that,  on  the  death  of  the  king,  he  would  make  himself 
the  first  man  in  the  realm,  and  bring  Wolsey,  and  some  others  persons 
now  in  power,  to  the  scaffold.   Buckingham  defended  himself  eloquently , 
he  objected  that  nothing  in  the  indictment  amounted  to  an  overt  act  of 
treason;  and  next  attempted  to  confute  the  separate  charges;  but  the 
evidence  of  Knivett,  a  discarded  officer  of  his  own  household,  and  who 
had  first  furnished  that  information  to  Wolsey,  which  led  to  the  duke's 
apprehension,  united  to  that  of  Delacourt  his  confessor,  and  Perk  his 
chancellor,  was  held  to  have  established  his  guilt,  and  the  peers  having 
pronounced  him  guilty^  Norfolk,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  gave  judgment 
of  death  against  him.     The  prisoner  heard  his  fate  unmoved,  and  said  z 
**  My  lord  of  Norfolk,  you  have  said  to  me  as  a  traitor  should  be  said 
unto :  but  I  was  never  none.     Still,  my  lords,  I  nothing  malign  you  for 
that  you  have  done  me.     May  the  eternal  God  forgive  you  my  death 
as  I  do  I     I  shall  never  sue  to  ^e  king  for  life,  howbeit  he  is  a  gracious 
prince,  and  more  grace  may  come  from  him  than  I  desire*     I  desire 
you  my  lords,  and  also  my  fellows,  to  pray  for  me."     He  was  beheaded 
on  the  17th  of  May,  1521,  amidst  the  tears  of  the  surrounding  specta- 
tors, who  vented  their  detestation  of  Wolsey,  whom  they  regarded  as 
the  author  of  Stafibrd's  death,  by  loud  cries  of  *  The  butcher's  son  !*  * 
"  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul  I"  says  the  reporter  of  his  trial,  "  for  he 
was  a  most  wise  and  noble  prince,  and  the  mirror  of  all  courtesy." 

DIED  A.D.  1552. 

£dward  Seymour,  who  became  duke  of  Somerset  and  protector  of 
England,  was  son  of  Sir  John  Seymour  of  Wolfhall,  Wilts,  who  was 
also  father  of  Jane  Seymour,  the  wife  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  mother  of 
Edward  VI.  The  younger  Seymour  studied  at  Oxford,  but  in  1533, 
he  attended  the  duke  of  Suffolk  in  a  military  expedition  to  France.  In 
1537,  after  the  marriage  of  his  sister  to  the  English  king,  Seymour  was 
created  earl  of  Hertford,  having  previously  been  raised,  in  succession, 
to  the  honour  of  knighthood  and  the  title  of  Lord  Beauchamp.  In 
1540  he  became  knight  of  the  garter,  and  in  1542,  he  was  constituted 
lord-chamberlain  for  life.  The  same  year,  along  with  many  other 
nobles,  he  attended  the  duke  of  Norfolk  in  his  advance  on  the  Scottish 
borders ;  and  in  1544,  he  himself  commanded  an  army  against  Scotland, 
on  which  occasion  the  English  troops,  landing  near  Leith,  plundered, 
and  set  fire  to  Edinburgh,  and  being  joined  by  an  additional  force, 
destroyed  the  towns  of  Haddington  and  Dunbar,  and  returned  to  Eng- 
land, having  lost,  in  the  campaign,  but  forty  men.  In  1546,  he  sue* 
ceeded  the  earl  of  Surrey  in  the  government  of  Boulogne. 

The  demise  of  Henry  VIII.,  in  the  following  year,  advanced  the  earl 

■^  Liiigard.  voL  It.  p.  60^ 

Fbmoj>.]  SEYMOUR,  DUKE  OF  SOMERSET.  67 

of  Hertford  to  a  higher  trust.     He  was  one  of  the  sixteen  executors  to 
^hom  Henry  had  committed  the  care  of  his  son  and  successor,  Edward 
VI.,  who,  at  his  father's  death,  was  only  in  the  tenth  year  of  his  age, 
and,  on  that  occasion,  at  a  meeting  of  Henry's  executors  and  council, 
it  i;v^as  proposed  that  a  protector  of  the  kingdom  should  be  chosen,  wh  > 
should  be  under  the  control  of  the  executors.    In  spite  of  the  opposition 
of  Wriothesley,  the  chancellor,  the  plan  was  approved  of.     The  earl  ot 
Hertford,  uncle  to  the  young  king,  was  chosen  to  the  office,  created 
duke  of  Somerset,  lord-treasurer,  and  earl-mareschal ;  and,  though  a 
layman,  invested  with  ecclesiastical  preferment.     In  March  a  patent 
signed  by  the  young  king,  entrusted  to  Somerset,  assisted  by  a  council, 
composed  of  the  councillors  appointed  by  the  late  king,  Wriothesley 
e:xcepted,^  with  regal  power.     To  this  arrangement  the  executors  sub* 
mitted,  although,  according  to  IVf  r  Hume,  '*  as  the  patent,  by  its  very 
tenor,  where  the  executors  are  not  so  much  as  mentioned,  appears  to 
liave  been  surreptitiously  obtained  from  a  minor  king,  the  protectorship 
of  Somerset  was  a  plain  usurpation,  which  it  is  impossible  by  any  argu- 
ments to  justify." 

Hertford,  like  his  sister  Lady  Jane  Seymour,  was  attached  to  the 
interests  of  the  Reformation,  and  in  Archbishop  Cranmer  he  had  a 
coadjutor  of  similar  views.     Besides  that  the  individuals  concerned  in 
the  education  of  the  young  king  were  of  the  reformed  faith,  the  protector, 
l)y  a  proclamation,  appointed  a  visitation  of  the  dioceses  for  the  cor- 
rection of  vice  and  superstition.     Homilies  were  issued  for  the  use  oi 
the  clergy,  and  restrictions  put  on  the  service  of  the  pulpit.     In  these 
measures  the  protector  met  with  opposition  from  Bonner,  bbhop  of 
London,  Gardiner,  bishop  of^  Winchester,  and  Tunstal,  bishop  of  Dur- 
ham.    But  soon  thereafter  the  council  went  still  farther  in  the  work  ot 
innovation  on  the   ancient  worship,  abolishing  several  superstitious 
ceremonies,  and  ordering  images  to  be  removed  from  the  churches — a 
course  in  which  the  parliament  of  1549  proceeded,  by  establishing  an 
English  liturgy  and  allowing  the  marriage  of  priests.    It  is  to  be  regret- 
ted, however,  that  the  protector's  administration  was  disgraced,  according 
to  the  illiberal  ideas  of  the  time,  by  persecution  for  religious  faith,  in-* 
somuch  that,  in  one  case — ^the  condemnation  of  Joan  of  Kent  for  reputed 
heresy  on  the  incarnation — ^young  Edward,  when  called  to  sign  the  war- 
rant for  her  death,  was  induced  to  weep,  after  in  vain  contending  with 
tlie  archbishop,  his  sterner  counsellor. 

But  before  the  work  of  reforming  the  religion  of  the  country  had 
been  completed,  the  protector  had  taken  steps  in  another  direction. 
The  scheme  of  Henry  for  a  marriage  between  Edward  and  Mary  the 
daughter  of  the  late  Scottish  king,  was  also  supported  by  Somerset 
Having  published  a  manifesto  representing  the  importance  of  a  union 
being  established  between  England  and  Scotland,  and  having  prepared 
an  army  of  18,000  men,  besides  a  fleet  of  60  ships,  on  the  pretext  of  re- 
venging aggressions  committed  on  the  English  border,  he  refused  to  ne- 
gotiate with  Scotland,  unless  on  the  conditio^  of  such  a  marriage  being 
agreed  to  by  the  Scots.     His  manifesto  failed  r^F  ♦— ^^   ..:«^  -.i.^  effect, 

ambition  and  less  prudv 

'  This  nobleman  had  been  previously  condemned  tin  the  good   fortunes  of  aJjI? 
i>\m  house,  besides  the  forfeiture  of  his  omce  as  chai*       «^     •     j    ^.u      t  c 

by  a  commission  authorised  and  appointed  by  liims  ^^   receiVCQ    the   AOnour  Ot 

11.  U 

58  POLITICAL  SEBIEa  (Toostii 

and  on  tlie  2d  of  September*  1548,  he  passed,  ai  the  head  of  bis  army, 
into  Scotland.  After  causing  certain  small  castles  on  the  way  to  «xr* 
render,  he  met  with  an  army  mustered  by  Arran,  nov  gOTcmor  of  Scot- 
land, and  double  the  number  of  his  own,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Scottish  capitaL  In  a  skirmish  on  the  occasion,  the  English  army  had 
the  advantage ;  but  on  Somerset  and  the  earl  of  Warwick,  by  whom  he 
was  accompanied,  examining  the  camp  of  the  Scottish  army,  it  ^pear* 
e4l  that  to  engage  with  them  in  regular  action  would  be  an  enter{H*ise 
of  danger,  and,  instead  of  attempting  it  without  another  effort  of  recon- 
ciliation, the  protector  wrote  to  Arran,  and  offered  to  withdraw  his 
troops,  and  repair  the  damage  he  had  done,  if  the  young  queen  were 
not  betrothed  to  a  foreign  prince,  nor  sent  abroad  until  of  an  age  when 
she  might  choose  a  consort  for  hersel£  The  proposal  was  rejected. 
On  Somerset  moving  towards  the  sea,  the  Scots  believed  the  English 
troops  were  seeking  to  embark,  quitted  their  advantageous  ground,  and 
came  down  into  the  plain.  On  this  artillery  began  to  fire  from  the  Eng- 
litih  ships.  Lord  Grey  making  an  irregular  movement,  the  onset  of  hb 
men-at-arms  fieuled  of  making  an  adequate  impression  on  the  Scots. 
But  Somerset,  with  other  officers,  rallied  the  troops,  and  on  the  com- 
bined movement  of  the  English  forces,  alarm  struck  the  van  and  then 
the  body  and  rear  of  the  Scottish  army,  who  betook  themselves  to  flight, 
and  many  of  whom  fell  in  the  pursuit.  The  total  number  lost  by  the 
Scots  on  this  occasion  has  been  computed  at  upwards  of  10,000,  while 
Somerset  was  left  not  only  master  of  the  field,  but  with  an  army  which 
had  not  lost  above  two  hundred  men.  After  this  celebrated  battle, 
fought  at  Pinkey,  on  Arran's  requesting  a  negotiation  respecting  peace, 
Warwick  was  left  with  authority  to  confer  on  the  subject,  and  Somerset, 
after  taking  several  castles,  returned  to  England,  and  convened  a 
parliament,  the  laws  enacted  by  which  have  been  much  commended. 

During  Somerset's  absence  in  Scotland,  a  rival  appeared  in  the  per- 
son of  his  own  brother,  Admiral  Lord  Seymour,  whose  fortune  and  &te 
will  be  related  in  a  separate  article.  But  if  one  danger  by  which 
Somerset  was  threatened  disappeared  with  his  brother's  death,  it  was 
succeeded  by  others  both  to  him  and  to  the  Qountry.  England  was 
uow  disturbed  by  insurrections  occasioned  by  the  privations  of  the  peo- 
ple. These  were  subdued,  but  young  Mary  of  Scotland  had  been 
sent  over  to  France,  and  troops  had  been  sent  by  that  country  to  the 
assistance  of  the  Scots.  Somerset,  at  war  both  with  France  and  Scot- 
land, was  disposed  to  make  peace  with  both.  But  from  the  power 
which  he  had  assumed,  he  was  become  an  object  of  dissatisfaction  among 
his  councillors,  nor  was  the  favour  of  the  people — although  he  seems  to 
have  aimed  at  being  popular — entirely  on  his  side.  His  former  com- 
panion the  earl  of  Warwick,  together  with  the  earls  of  Southampton 
and  Arundel,  all  members  of  the  council,  met  at  Ely-house,  and  acted 
independently  of  Somerset,  issuing  injunctions  to  public  officers  to  obey 
their  orders,  and  requesting  other  noblemen  to  join  them  in  their  efforts. 
Next  day  they  were  joined  by  several  members  of  the  council.  Somer- 
i«et,  on  hearing  of  the  peril,  caused  the  king  to  be  removedfiomHamp- 
ton  Cftkreai-rof  Surrey  i1  ^^^^j^  followers  for  a  defence^^ 
ceivAe  demise  of  Henry  Vt^J^  The  duke  capitulated,  and  was  com- 
mi  ^       'ith  some  of  his  adherents.     An  indictment 

,  .  m  with  usurpation.     He  confessed  to  tha 
•  Liu. 


coancily  on  his  luiees,  the  troth  of  all  the  articles,  and  rigBed  a 
tioa  on  the  subject.  Pkuiiament  received  the  document,  took  away 
fit>m  him  his  offices,  and  imposed  on  him  a  fine  in  land  of  £2,000  a 
year.  But  the  latter  penalty  was  remitted,  and  the  duke  was  readmitted 
to  the  council;  and  Warwick,  who  had  now  risen  to  eminence  among  that 
body,  agreed  that  his  son  should  marry  Somerset's  daughter.  But  no 
permanent  friendship  was  sealed  betwixt  the  duke  and  that  ambitious 
nobleman.  Certain  expressions  used  by  the  latter  respecting  War- 
wick being  reported,  the  duke,  his  duchess,  and  certain  of  hb  friends 
and  dependents  were  imprisoned  in  October,  1551.  Somerset  wa» 
accused  by  Sir  Thomas  Palmer,  a  spy,  of  a  design  to  create  an  insurrec- 
tion, to  take  possession  of  the  tower,  and  even  to  murder  Northampton, 
Pembroke,  and  Warwick  himself,  who  had  now  been  created  earl  of 
Northumberland.  He  was  tried  before  the  marquess  of  Winchester, 
hi^  steward,  on  the  charge  of  high  treason,  before  a  jury  of  twenty 
peers.  They  returned  a  verdict  favourable  to  the  accused,  in  respect 
of  the  charge  of  treason ;  but  sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  on  that 
of  having  intended  to  make  an  assault  on  privy  councillors.  The 
duke  acknowledged  that  he  had  expressed  such  an  intention,  but  statea 
that  he  had  not  seriously  resolved  on  the  execution  of  it,  and  asked  par- 
don of  the  nobles  whom  he  liad  aggrieved.  He  was  executed  on  the 
22d  of  January,  1552.  Great  sorrow  and  respect  were  testified  on 
occasion  of  his  death,  and  the  spectators  even  to  the  last  had  some  an- 
ticipation of  a  pardon.  But  Edward  had  been  guarded  against  the  in- 
fluence of  his  uncle's  friends.  That  excellent  prince  survived  the  protec- 
tor only  about  a  year  and  a  half,  and  the  execution  of  Northumberland, 
a  few  weeks  after  his  young  master's  death,  was  accompanied  with  popu- 
lar accusations  of  his  severity  to  Somerset.  That  the  latter  nobleman 
assumed  more  power  than  was  legitimate  there  seems  too  much  reason 
to  believe ;  but  it  is  due,  perhaps,  to  his  general  character  to  refrain 
fix>m  the  opinion  that,  although  he  may,  naturally,  have  been  irritated 
by  the  attempts  to  sink  him  fVom  the  elevation  he  had  reached,  he  had 
a  direct  and  deliberate  intention  to  murder  any  of  his  opponents  in  the 
council.  Like  his  sister  Lady  Jane,  he  seems  to  have  possessed  an 
amiable  cast  of  character,  which  experience  has,  in  other  cases,  proved 
to  be  consistent  with  an  undue  desire  of  eminence  and  power.  The 
part  he  took  in  favour  of  the  Reformation  entitles  him  to  the  regard  of 
Protestants;  and  his  conduct  of  the  Scottish  war,  how  insufficient  soever 
may  have  been  the  grounds  on  which  it  was  begun,  is  fitted  to  give  us 
a  &vourable  impression  of  his  military  skill.  A  book  said  to  have  been 
written  by  him  during  confinement  in  the  tower,  is  entitled — **  A  spiri- 
tual and  most  precious  pearl,  teaching  all  men  to  love  and  embrace  thA 
cross  as  a  most  sweet  and  necessary  thing.'* 

DIED  A.  D.  1548 

Thomas  Setmoub  was  a  man  of  more  ambition  and  less  prudence 
than  his  brother,  the  protector.  Sharing  in  the  good  fortunes  of  his 
family  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VUI.  he  received   the  honour  of 

60  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fockth 

knighthood  from  that  monarch,  along  with  considerable  pecuniary 
grants,  which  enabled  him  to  increase  his  personal  influence,  and  thus 
foster  mere  day-dreams  of  aggrandisement,  which  ultimately  brought 
him  to  the  sci^old.  On  his  brother's  elevation  to  the  protectorship 
Sir  Thomas  was  created  Lord  Seymour  of  Dudley,  and  soon  after  lord- 
high-admiral  of  England.  But  these  appointments  failed  to  satisfy  the 
ambitious  courtier,  and  he  gradually  involved  himself  in  a  series  of 
deep  intrigues  against  the  administration  of  his  own  brother.  He  had 
paid  court  to  Catherine  Parr  while  she  was  Lady  Latimer,  and  his  suit 
would  probably  have  been  successful  but  for  the  interference  of  so  for- 
midable a  rival  as  England's  monarch  himself.  Encouraged  by  what 
he  had  already  known  of  Catherine's  sentiments,  he  ventured  to  renew 
his  suit  to  her,  almost  before  the  grave  had  closed  on  her  royal  hus- 
band ;  and  she  consented  to  become  his  wife  with  a  precipitation  high- 
ly indecorous  and  reprehensible,  and  which  exposed  Seymour  himself 
to  the  formidable  charge  conveyed  in  these  words, — "  You  married  the 
late  queen  so  soon  after  the  late  king's  death  that,  if  she  had  conceived 
straight  after,  it  would  have  been  a  doubt  whether  the  child  was  the 
king's  or  yours, — ^to  the  peril  of  the  succession." 

The  jealousy  of  the  two  brothers  gathered  new  strength  from  that  of 
their  wives.  The  protector  was  notoriously  under  the  influence  of  his 
wife,  Ann  Stanhope,  a  woman  of  strong  and  headlong  passions,  who  could 
not  brook  the  precedency  allowed  by  all  others  to  Catherine  as  the  first 
female  in  the  kingdom.  The  queen-dowager  maintained  her  own  rights 
with  equal  resolution.  Their  husbands  were  induced  to  take  part  in 
their  quarrel,  and  the  consequences  which  might  have  been  easily  anti- 
cipated instantly  followed, — alienation,  suspicion,  hatred,  took  posses- 
sion of  their  hearts,  and  the  younger  Seymour  was  treated  as  all  but  a 
declared  rebel  by  his  oflended  brother.  The  protector  and  council  now 
refused  to  the  lord-admiral  certain  lands  and  valuable  jewels  which  he 
claimed  as  bequests  to  his  wife  from  the  late  king.  This  and  other  disap- 
pointments exasperated  the  admiral,  and  he  instantly  plunged  himself 
into  designs  against  the  existing  government,  which  placed  his  life  in 
extreme  jeopardy  for  a  time.  An  apparent  reconciliation  between  the 
brothers  was  at  last  efiected,  and  the  admiral  was  compelled  to  change, 
though  not  to  renounce,  his  ambitious  projects. 

The  princess  Elizabeth  had  been  committed,  on  the  death  of  her 
father,  to  the  care  of  the  queen-dowager,  and  usually  resided  with  her 
at  one  or  other  of  her  jointure-houses.  By  this  means  it  happened 
tbat,  after  the  queen's  marriage  witli  Seymour,  Elizabeth  found  herself 
domesticated  under  the  roof  of  the  lord-admiraL  The  latter  seems  to 
have  behaved  towards  the  young  princess  in  a  very  extraordinary  and 
unbecoming  manner,  though  it  does  not  appear  that  be  had  formed  any 
design  of  aspiring  to  her  hand  at  this  early  period  of  their  intercourse. 
It  is  difficult  to  account  for  Catherine's  own  conduct  in  this  matter. 
She  appears  to  have  been  sadly  deficient  in  delicacy  at  least,  for  she 
encouraged  her  young  charge  to  romp  and  sport  with  young  Seymoui 
in  a  manner  altogether  unbefitting  the  parties  ;  and  it  was  not  until  the 
occurrence  of  some  circumstances  which  violently  excited  the  dowager- 
queen's  jealousy,  that  an  altercation  took  place  between  the  royal  step- 
mother and  step- daughter  which,  fortunately  for  the  honour  of  Eliza- 
beth, ended  in  an  instant  and  final  separation.    The  death  of  Catherine 


Pehiod.]  THOBiAS,  LOBD  8EYM0UH.  61 

in  September,  1547,  soon  after  this  affair,  led  to  a  rumour  that  she  was 
poisoned  by  her  husband,  for  which,  however,  there  is  no  evidence. 

Seymour,  still  bent  on  schemes  of  ambition,  seems  now  to  liave  hesi- 
tated in  his  matrimonial  projects  betwixt  Lady  Jane  Grey,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  the  marchioness  of  Dorset,  who  had  been  placed  imme- 
diately after  the  two  princesses  in  order  of  succession  to  the  crown,  and  the 
princess  Elizabeth  herself.  But  as  it  was  evident  that  the  removal  of 
his  sister  from  the  head  of  the  administration  must  precede  the  accom- 
plishment of  either  of  these  ambitious  designs,  he  engaged  in  a  series 
of  measures  for  forming  a  party  against  his  brother  among  the  leading 
nobility.  He  likewise  opened  a  secret  correspondence  with  the  young 
lung ;  and  such  was  his  imprudence,  that  he  began  openly  to  boast 
of  his  superior  influence  and  authority  in  the  state.  In  the  midst  of 
his  flattering  anticipations,  his  plots  were  discovered,  and  himself,  with 
his  principal  agents,  committed  to  the  tower.  No  overt  act  of  treason 
could  be  proved  against  him ;  but,  on  the  27th  of  February,  1549,  a 
bill  of  attainder  was  passed  against  him ;  his  request  to  be  heard  in  his 
own  defence  having  first  been  refused.  On  the  17th  of  next  month, 
the  warrant  for  his  execution  was  issued,  with  his  brother  s  name  at  tlie 
head  of  the  signatures  to  it,  and  three  days  thereafter  he  was  beheaded 
on  Tower-hill.  He  met  his  &te  with  a  courage  approaching  to  ferocity* 
Bishop  Latimer  says  he  '*  died  very  dangerously,  irksomely,  horribly ; 
so  that  his  end  was  suitable  to  his  life,  which  was  very  mean,  profane, 
and  irreligous," 

It  is  difficult  at  this  distance  of  time  to  calculate  what  might  have  been 
the  consequence  had  this  ambitious  and  restless  nobleman  been  allowed  to 
prosecute  his  designs.  That  Elizabeth  evinced  an  attachment  to  Seymour 
has  been  pretty  clearly  establbhed,  although  she  is  said  to  have  refused 
permission  to  the  admiral  to  visit  her  after  the  death  of  his  wife.  A 
gentleman  of  the  name  of  Harrington,  who  had  been  in  Seymours  ser- 
vice, was  subsequently  taken  by  Elizabeth  into  her  own  household,  and 
highly  favoured ;  and  with  so  much  security  did  this  person  reckon  on 
the  princess's  tenderness  for  the  memory  of  Seymour  that  he  ventured, 
several  years  after  her  accession  to  the  throne,  to  present  her  with  a 
portrait  of  him,  under  which  was  inscribed  the  following  sonnet  :— 

**  Of  person  rare,  strong  limbs,  and  manly  shape. 

By  nature  framed  to  serve  on  sea  or  land  ; 

In  friendship  firm,  in  good  state  or  Ill-hap ; 

In  peace,  head  wise ;  in  war,  skill  great,  bold  hand ; 

On  horse  or  foot,  in  peril  or  in  play. 

None  could  excel,  though  many  did  essay ; 

A  subject  true  to  king,  a  servant  great, 

Friend  to  God^s  truth,  a  foe  to  Rome's  deceit ; 

Sumptuous  abroad,  for  honour  of  the  laud ; 

Temp*rate  at  home,  yet  kept  great  state  \«ith  stay, 

And  noble  house,  that  fed  more  mouths  with  meat 

Than  some  advanced  on  higher  steps  to  stand. 
Yet,  against  nature,  reason,  and  just  laws. 
His  blood  was  spilt,  guiltless,  without  just  cauae.** 


BORN  A.  D.  1537. — DIED  A.  D.  1553. 

Edward  was  only  nine  years  old  when  proclaimed  king  of  England* 
in  1547,  and  he  died  in  the  seventh  year  of  his  reign,  his  government 
was  therefore,  to  all  practical  purposes,  a  regency,  and  it  is  to  the  me- 
moirs of  the  protector,  Somerset,  and  his  successor,  Northumberlan<i^ 
that  we  must  look  for  the  political  features  of  thb  period  of  English 
history.     Edward's  character,  as  far  as  it  was  developed,  was  a  pleasing 
one ;  and  until  the  appearance  of  that  disease  which  soon  indicated  itself 
in  his  constitution,  he  gave  promise  of  a  mild  and  beneficent  reign. 
Towards  both  his  sisters  he  conducted  himself  with  admirable   pru- 
dence and  delicacy ;  and  although  much  of  the  praise  in  this  instance 
was  unquestionably  due  to  the  discretion  of  his  guardians,  yet  his  affec- 
tionate and  mild  temper  spontaneously  dictated  to  him  that  line  of  con- 
duct which  he  pursued  towards  the  two  princesses.     He  did  not  indeed 
conceal  his  preference  for  Elizabeth  whom  he  used  to  call  his  *  sweet 
sister  Temperance,'  but  he  never  could  be  induced,  without  the  great- 
est reluctance,  to  consent  to  any  of  those  harsh  measures  which  were 
adopted  by  his  guardians  against  Mary  on  account  of  her  religious  sen- 
timents ;  nor  should  we  be  justified  in  considering  the  severe  proceed- 
ings which  were  instituted  against  the  prelates  of  her  party,  as  emanat- 
ing firoqa  the  youthful  prince,  who,  with  all  his  predilections  in  favour  of 
Protestantism,  wept  whenever  he  was  compelled  to  give  his  sanction  to 
any  measures  having  the  appearance  of  harshness  or  cruelty.     The  hu- 
mane temper  of  Cranmer  harmonized  with  Edward's  gentleness ;  and 
the  Catholic  historian,  Dod,  confesses,  that  during  this  reign,  **  no  san- 
guinary, but  only  penal  laws  were  executed  on  those  who  stood  off." 
The  languishing  state  of  Edward's  health  encouraged  and  precipitated 
the  daring  policy  of  Northumbeiiand,  who  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  to  change  the  succession  in  favour  of  Lady  Jane  Grey.    He  had 
been  seized,  in  1552,  first  with  measles,  and  then  with  small  pox ;  but 
having  perfectly  recovered,  he  made  a  progress  through  some  parts  of 
the  kingdom,  in  the  following  year.     But  whilst  thus  engaged,  he  was 
seized  with  a  cough  which  was  speedily  succeeded  by  more  certain 
symptoms  of  disorder  in  the  lungs.     The  celebrated  Jerome  Cardan, 
who  had  been  sent  for  from  Italy  to  cure  the  archbishop  of  St  Andrews, 
was  consulted  in  Edward's  case.     Cardan  did  not  choose  to  exercise  his 
medical  skill  upon  the  royal  patient,  but  he  did  what  he  probably  thought 
would  prove  more  satisfactory  to  all  parties,  he  cast  his  horoscope,  and 
predicted  from  it  a  speedy  recovery  and  long  reign  for  the  prince. 
We  are  indebted  to  this  extraordinary  man  for  a  character  of  Edward, 
which,  as  it  was  written  when  the  author  could  have  no  hopes  of  recom- 
pense from  any  quarter,  and  by  a  man  of  no  ordinary  attainments  and 
sagacity,  may  be  relied  on  as  presenting  us  with  a  more  faithful  account 
of  the  prince,  so  far  as  it  goes,  than  any  thing  which  could  be  extracted 
from  the  writings  of  his  fulsome  panegyrists  : — "  He  knew,"  says  Cardan, 
« Latin  and  French  well ;  was   not  ignorant  of  Greek,    Italian,  and 
Spanish  ;  and  was  not  without  a  competent  knowledge  of  logic,  of  phy- 
sic, and  of  music.     A  boy  of  such  genius  and  expectation  was  a  prodigy 


in  human  afiairs.  I  do  not  speak,**  he  adds,  ''with  rhetorical  ezagger- 
ation,  but  rather  speak  under  the  truth.**  In  our  general  introductory 
sketch  of  this  period  we  have  given  some  addlKonal  information,  from 
the  same  quarter,  rdative  to  the  youthful  Edward's  learning  and  ac- 
complishments. On  the  6th  of  July,  1553,  "  towards  nigfate,**  this 
amiable  and  accomplished  prince  breathed  his  last,  in  his  palace 
at  Greenwich.  ''  His  position  in  English  history,**  says  Mackintosh, 
^  between  a  tyrant  and  a  bigot,  adds  somewhat  to  the  gnce  of  his 
innocent  and  attractive  character,  which  borrows  also  an  addidonal 
charm  from  the  mild  lustre  which  surrounds  the  name  of  Lady  Jane 
Grey,  the  companion  of  his  infancy,  and  the  object  of  his  dying 
choice  as  a  successor  on  the  throne.** 

BatilrSf  9u6e  of  ;^ort|^amlberlanli. 

BORN  A.  D.  1502. — riUD  A.  A.  1553. 

John  Dudley,  duke  of  Northumberland,  was  the  son  of  Edmund 
Dudl^,  t^  corrupt  minister  of  Henry  VII.  He  engaged  in  military 
service  under  Charies  l^randon  duke  of  Suffolk,  and  was  knighted  by 
him  for  gallant  conduct  during  the  campaign  in  France.  On  his  re- 
turn to  England  he  was  successively  patronised  by  Wolsey,  Cromwell, 
and  Ann  of  Cleves;  yet  inauspidous  as  such  patronage  might  have 
been  esteemed,  we  find  him,  in  1542,  on  the  death  of  his  father-in-law, 
created  Viscount  Lyle  by  the  capricious  Henry,  and  soon  after  invested 
with  the  order  of  the  garter,  and  the  office  of  lord-high-admiral  of  Eng- 
land. In  the  latter  oapacity  be  txmducted  a  formidable  armament 
agakitft  Holland,  and  some  time  afterwards  made  a  still  more  signal  dis- 
play of  his  capabilities  in  defeating  the  efibrts  of  France  to  invade  Eng- 
land, and  compelling  Francis  I.  to  consent  to  the  treaty  of  1545. 

On  the  death  of  Henry,  Dudley  aimed  at  the  protectorship,  but  was 
d^eated  by  Somerset,  and  from  this  period  may  be  dated  the  mortal 
enmity  «f  these  two  powerful -nobles.  One  of  the  protector's  first  acts 
was  to  ocnfor  the  office  of  high-admiral  on  his  own  brother.  Dudley 
sought  to  conceal  his  mortification  under  the  show  of  a  voluntary  resig- 
nation of  that  ofi[iee ;  and  the  protector  himself  hastened  to  tender  him 
some  compensation  by  appointing  him  grand-chamberlain  of  England, 
and  conferring  on  him  the  title  of  earl  of  Warwick  with  a  gift  of  the 
castle  and  manor  of  that  town.  Bat  these  honours,  though  something 
more  than  a  name,  sufficed  not  to  soothe  the  irritated  feelings  which 
rankled  in  Dudley's  bosom.  And  although  he  rendered  several  im- 
portant services  to  the  protectorate,  especially  during  the  war  in 
Scotland,  yet  he  readily  attached  himself  to  the  party  which  ultimately 
drove  Somerset  from  the  government.  The  Catholic  party  now  flat- 
tered themselves  that  the  earl  of  Warwick  would  espouse  their  cause, 
but  they  were  disappointed:  the  earl  had  marked  the  spirit  of  the 
young  lung  and  the  temper  of  the  times  too  well  to  lend  himself  to  such 
a  sinking  interest 

In  1551,  Warwick  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  duke  of  Northumber- 
land. That  title  had  already  remained  some  years  dormant ;  but  it 
was  not  destined  to  descend  to  the  heirs  of  the  new  duke.     We  have  in 




a  preceding  article  adverted  to  the  supposed  part  which  Dudley  took  in 
hastening  the  execution  of  Somerset*  His  own  fall  was  then  nearer 
than  he  suspected.  In  ^  the  very  noonday  of  his  power  and  fancied 
popularity,  the  youthful  prince  in  whose  name  he  held  and  directed  the 
reins  of  government,  was  seized  with  a  disease  which  soon  put  on  the 
appearance  of  a  rapid  decline.  Northumberland  instantly  perceived 
his  critical  situation.  From  Mar}%  who  stood  next  heir  to  the  crown, 
he  had  nothing  to  hope  for,  but  every  thing  to  dread.  To  the  religious 
principles  which  he  had  espoused,  she  was  known  to  be  decidedly 
hostile ;  and  he  had  always  taken  such  a  prominent  part  in  every  act  of 
harshness  towards  that  princess  that  she  could  not  but  entertain  a 
strong  personal  aversion  towards  him.  In  these  circumstances  he  re- 
solved on  the  bold  but  desperate  line  of  policy,  which  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  relate  with  some  fulness  of  detail  in  our  memoir  of  Lady 
Jane  Grey.  The  result,  as  might  have  been  foreseen  by  a  man  placed 
in  less  desperate  circumstances  than  Dudley,  was  fatal  to  his  whole 
party.  Deserted  by  his  partisans  and  soldiers,  his  next  step  was  to 
make  a  merit  of  necessity  by  being  the  first  man  to  throw  up  his  cap 
in  the  market-place  of  Cambridge,  and  cry  '^  God  save  Queen  Mary  !*' 
On  the  following  day  he  was  arrested  by  the  earl  of  Arundel ;  and  qd 
the  22d  of  August,  1553,  he  suffered  execution  on  Tower-hill. 

3laD|?  5Jane  ^vtu- 

BORN  A.  D.  1537. — ^DIED  A.  P,  1554b 

Few  personages  in  British  history  have  attracted  a  more  universal 
sympathy  from  all  classes  of  readers  than  the  amiable,  but  unfortunate 
Lady  Jane  Grey.  Her  illustrious  parentage,  her  beauty,  her  accom- 
plishments, her  amiable  temper,  the  unsullied  purity  of  her  motives, 
her  extreme  youth,  and  finally  the  fortitude  with  which  she  encounter- 
ed death  in  one  of  its  most  appalling  forms,  have  all  contributed  to  in- 
vest her  with  a  deep  though  melancholy  interest  to  which  we  can  do 
but  imperfect  justice  in  the  following  sketch.  Lady  Jane  Grey  was  the 
eldest  daughter  of  Henry  Grey,  marquess  of  Dorset.  Her  mother, 
the  lady  Frances  Brandon,  was  niece  of  Henry  VIII.,  and,  consequent- 
ly, she  herself  was  first  cousin,  once  removed,  to  Edward  YL  She  was 
born  about  the  year  1537  at  Bradgate,  in  Leicestershire.  Her  early 
education  was  conducted  by  her  father's  chaplains,  Harding  and  Ayl- 
nier,  both  men  of  distinguished  learning ;  for  a  part  also  of  her  acquire- 
ments she  was  indebted  to  the  celebrated  Roger  Ascham*  Under  the 
tuition  of  these  eminent  men,  she  is  said  to  have  made  eminent  pro- 
gress in  her  studies.  Her  eulogist  represents  her  as  speaking  Latin, 
Italian,  French,  and  Greek,  with  elegance  and  fluency,  and  as  weU 
acquainted  also  with  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  and  Arabic.  But  these  state- 
ments must  be  received  with  some  degree  of  qualification.  That  her 
attainments  were  great  and  far  exceeded  those  of  most  of  her  sex, 
need  not  be  questioned ;  but  it  is  absurd  to  suppose,  that  within  the 
brief  compass  of  her  life,  she  could  make  such  acquisitions  in  learn- 
ing as  some  of  her  biographers  ascribe  to  her.  Ascham,  however,  as- 
sures us,  that  on  visiting  her  family  in  the  month  of  August  1550,  he 

••  '• 




found  Lady  Jane  alone  in  her  apartment,  reading  the  Phesdo  of  Plato 
in  the  original.  This  circumstance  astonished  and  pleased  the  worthy 
pedagogue  above  measure ;  and  he  mentions  it  in  his  correspondence 
with  Sturmius,  in  terms  which  reflect  equal  honour  on  the  good  man's 
enthusiasm  for  '  the  divine  Phsedo  of  the  divine  Plato,*  and  on  the 
fair  student  herself. 

Lady  Jane's  attachment  to  the  reformed  fiuth  was  early  evinced  in 
the  correspondence  which  she  maintained  with  some  of  the  most  ani- 
nent  reformers  on  the  continent  There  are  still  extant  several  Latin 
epistles  from  her  to  Henry  BuUenger,  which,  it  is  certain,  were  all 
written  before  her  marriage*  Her  first  appearance  in  public,  was  in 
her  mother's  train  on  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  Mary,  the  dowager- 
queen  of  Scotland,  to  the  court  at  Greenwich  Shortly  afterwards 
she  became  the  guest  of  the  princess  Mary,  whom  she  unconsciously 
offended  by  the  freedom  of  some  of  her  remarks  on  Catholic  cere- 
monies and  tenets.  About  the  end  of  May  1553,  Lady  Jane  was 
married  to  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  fourth  son  of  tlie  duke  of  Nor- 
thumberland. Her  ambitious  father-in-law  now  prevailed  on  Edward 
to  make  a  new  settlement  of  the  throne  in  favour  of  the  house  of  Suf- 
folk. The  grounds  on  which  this  alteration  was  effected,  were  ex- 
tremely plausible.  'The  title  of  Edward  himself  was  left  intact ;  but 
the  hereditary  right  of  succession  in  Mary  and  Elizabeth  ^'as 
taken  away  by  simply  revising  the  statutes  which  had  declared 
Henry's  first  and  second  marriage  void.  After  Elizabeth,  Henry 
had  placed  the  descendants  of  Mary,  queen  of  France,  passing 
over  her  eldest  sister  Margaret.  Mary  of  France,  by  her  second 
marriage  with  Charles  Brandon,  duke  of  Suffolk,  had  two  daughters, 
Lady  Frances,  who  married  Henry  Grey,  marquis  of  Dorset,  after- 
wards created  duke  of  Suffolk,  and  Lady  Eleanor,  who  wedded  Henry 
Clifford,  earl  of  Cumberland.  Henrv  afterwards  settled  the  crown  ! 
by  his  will  on  the  heirs  of  those  two  ladies  successively,  failing  | 
his  own  children.  Taking  advantage  of  these  circumstances,  and 
of  Edward's  ardent  attachment  to  the  principles  of  the  Reformation, 
Northumberland  alternately  wrought  upon  the  young  prince's  fears 
and  hopes  by  reminding  him  that  it  was  a  duty  which  he  owed  not 
less  to  his  God  than  to  his  country  to  make  provision  for  the  main- 
tenance and  security  of  the  Protestant  religion  after  his  death,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  enlarging  upon  Mary's  zealous  attachment  to  the  Ca- 
tholic faith,  and  the  little  security  there  was  even  for  Elizabeth's  ad- 
herence to  the  principles  of  Protestantism.  To  the  powerful  house  of 
Suffolk  alone,  he  argued,  could  the  securities  of  the  Protestant  faith  be 
safely  intrusted  at  this  crisis,  and  in  the  person  of  Lady  Jane  Grey 
was  that  union  of  principles  and  of  rights  to  be  found,  which  pointed 
her  out  as  the  fit  successor  of  a  Protestant  monarch  upon  the  throne  of 
England.  Northumberland's  insidious  reasonings  prevailed  with  the 
mild  and  timid  prince ;  and  on  the  9th  of  July,  1553,  he  communicated 
to  his  daughter-in-law  the  tidings  of  Edward's  death,  and  of  her  own  ele* 
vation  to  the  throne. 

Though  not  wholly  unprepared  for  the  intelligence,  we  are  told  that 
she  fainted  at  the  announcement,  and  at  first  resolutely  refused  the 
proffered  dignity.  Afterwards,  describing  the  transaction  in  a  letter 
to  Mary,  she  says :— *'^  As  soon  as  I  had,  with  infinite  pain  to  my 

IX.  I 

66  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

mind,  understood  these  things,  how  much  I  icmained  beside  my- 
self, stunned  and  agitated,  I  leave  to  these  lords  to  testify  who  saw  me 
fall  to  the  ground,  and  who  know  how  grievously  I  wept"  Heylyn  in- 
forms us  that  '^  Northumberland's  speech  being  ended,  the  poor  lady 
found  herself  in  great  perplexity,  not  knowing  whether  she  would 
more  lament  the  death  of  Uie  king>  or  her  adoption  to  the  kingdom ; 
the  first  loss  not  to  be  repaired :  the  next  case  possible  to  be  avoided. 
She  looked  upon  the  crown  as  a  great  temptation,  to  resist  which  she 
stood  in  need  of  all  the  helps  which  both  philosophy  and  divinity  could 
suggest  unto  her*  And  she  knew  also  that  such  fortunes  seldom  knock- 
ed twice  tor  entrance  at  the  same  man's  gate ;  but  that  if  once  refused, 
they  are  gone  for  ever.  Taking  some  time,  therefore,  for  deliberation, 
she  summoned  a  council  of  her  purest  thoughts,  by  whose  advice,  half 
drowned  in  tears,  (either  as  in  sorrow  for  tibe  king's  death,  or  foresee- 
ing her  own,)  she  returned  an  answer  in  these  words,  or  to  this  effect : 
— *  That  the  laws  of  the  kingdom,  and  natural  right  standing  for  the 
king's  sister,  she  would  beware  of  burthening  her  weak  conscience  with 
a  yoke  which  did  belong  to  them ;  that  she  understood  the  infamy  of 
those  who  had  permitted  the  violation  of  right  to  gain  a  sceptre  ;  that 
it  were  to  mock  God  and  deride  justice ;  to  scruple  at  the  stealing  of  a 
shilling,  and  not  at  the  usurpation  of  a  crown.'  '  Besides,'  said  she, 
'  I  am  not  so  young,  nor  so  little  read  in  the  guiles  of  fortune,  as  to 
suffer  myself  to  be  taken  by  them.  If  she  enrich  any,  it  is  but  to 
make  them  the  subjects  of  her  spoil ;  if  she  raise  others,  it  is  but  to 
pleasure  herself  with  their  ruins.  What  she  adored  but  yesterday,  to- 
day is  her  pastime.  And  if  I  now  permit  her  to  adorn  and  crown  me, 
I  must  to-morrow  suffer  her  to  crush  and  tear  me  to  pieces.  Nay, 
with  what  crown  doth  she  present  me  ?  A  crown  which  hath  been 
violently  and  shamefully  wrettted  from  Catharine  of  Arragon,  made 
more  unfortunate  by  the  punishment  of  Ann  Bulloign  and  others,  that 
wore  it  after  her.  And  why  then  would  you  have  me  add  my  blood 
to  theirs,  and  be  the  third  victim  from  whom  this  fatal  crown  may  be 
ravished  with  the  head  that  wears  it  ?  But  in  case  it  should  not  prove 
fatal  to  me,  and  that  all  its  venom  were  consumed ;  if  fortune  should 
give  me  warranties  of  her  constancy ;  should  I  be  well  advised  to  take 
upon  me  these  thorns,  which  would  dilacerate,  though  not  kill  me  out^ 
right ;  to  burthen  myself  with  a  crown  which  would  not  fail  to  torment 
me,  though  I  were  assured  not  to  be  strangled  with  it  ?  My  liberty  is 
better  than  the  chain  you  proffer  me,  with  what  precious  stones  soever 
it  be  adorned,  or  of  what  gold  soever  framed.  I  will  not  exchange  my 
peace  for  honourable  and  precious  jealousies,  for  magnificent  and  glo- 
rious fetters.  And  if  you  love  me  sincerely,  and  in  good  earnest,  you 
will  rather  wish  me  a  secure  and  quiet  fortune,  though  mean,  than  an 
(exalted  condition  exposed  to  the  wind,  and  followed  by  some  dismal 
fall.' "  But  the  ambition  of  relatives  would  not  allow  her  to  follow  the 
prudent  counsel  of  her  own  thoughts  and  feelings  in  this  matter.  Her 
husband  was  prevailed  on  to  "  add  the  accents  of  love  to  the  wiles  of 
ambition ;"  and  beyond  this  female  fortitude  could  not  be  expected  to  go. 
On  the  same  day  Jane  was  proclaimed  at  London,  and  Mary  at 
Norwich,  and  both  simultaneously  issued  their  commands  to  the  lord- 
lieutenants  and  sheriffs  of  counties,  to  march  the  power  of  the  nation 
to  tlieir  respective  standards.     The  result  is  well  known.     Northum- 


Pbriod.]  lady  jane  GREY.  67 

berlaud's  supineness  allowed  Mary's  friend)  to  assemble  in  preponder- 
ating numbers,  and  this  &ct  was  no  sooner  understood  than  it  turned 
the  balance  in  Manr's  favour,  for  the  great  mass  of  the  public,  includ- 
ing the  citizens  of  London,  stood  aloof  at  first  from  both  parties,  wait- 
ing until  it  should  become  apparent  which  party  was  likely  to  prove 
victorious  in  the  approaching  struggle.  The  first  person  who  acquaint- 
ed Lady  Jane  with  the  fatal  turn  of  events,  was  her  own  fiither,  who, 
entering  her  apartment,  told  her  that  her  cause  was  lost,  and  that  she 
must  now  divest  herself  of  her  royal  robes,  and  be  contented  to  return 
to  a  private  station.  She  received  the  announcement  with  composure, 
and  meekly  replied : — '*  I  better  brook  this  message  than  my  former 
advancement  to  royalty ;  out  of  obedience  to  you  and  my  mother  I 
have  grievously  sinned,  and  offered  violence  to  myself  Now  I  do 
willingly,  and  as  obeying  the  motions  of  my  soul,  relinquish  the  crown, 
and  endeavour  to  salve  those  faults  committed  by  others,  if  at  least  so 
great  a  fault  can  be  salved,  by  a  relinquishment  and  ingenuous  acknow- 
ledgment of  them."  Soon  after  Mary's  coronation,  measures  were 
adopted  for  the  arraignment  of  Lady  Jane  and  her  husband,  together 
with  Lord  Ambrose  Dudley,  and  Lord  Henry  Dudley,  her  brothers- 
in-law  ;  and  on  the  3d  of  November  their  trial  commenced.  All  were 
convicted  of  high  treason,  and  sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  on 
each  of  them.  If  Mary  ever  entertained  purposes  of  mercy  towards 
the  hapless  couple,  Wyatt's  ill-concerted  rebellion  sealed  their  fate. 
On  the  8th  of  February,  1554,  Mary  signed  a  warrant  for  the  execu- 
tion of  '*  Guildford  Dudley  and  his  wife,"  as  the  illustrious  pair  were 
uncourteously  designated.  Feckenham,  the  queen's  confessor,  was  sent 
to  announce  to  Lady  Jane  the  awful  tidings,  that  she  must  prepare  her- 
self to  die  on  the  following  day.  That  priest  betrayed  great  solicitude 
to  induce  the  unfortunate  lady  to  renounce  her  religion,  and  even  ob- 
tained a  reprieve  of  three  days  for  her,  to  afford  him  an  opportunity  of 
fully  discussing  the  articles  of  her  faith  with  her.  Different  accounts 
have  been  given  of  the  abbot's  conduct  in  this  matter,  some  represent- 
ing him  as  evincing  an  affectionate  but  respectful  solicitude  for  what 
he  conceived  to  be  the  spiritual  interests  of  the  youthful  prisoner ;  and 
others,  as  pushing  his  zeal  for  her  conversion  to  the  verge  of  brutality 
and  rudeness.  AH  accounts,  however,  agree  in  representing  Lady 
Jane  as  adhering  with  the  constancy  and  calmness  of  a  martyr  at  the 
stake  to  her  religious  principles.  The  last  evening  of  her  life  was  spent 
by  her  in  fervent  devotion,  witli  an  interruption  of  two  hours,  occa- 
sioned by  the  arrival  of  two  bishops  and  some  other  Catholic  priests, 
who,  even  at  this  late  moment,  intruded  their  services  upon  her  in  the 
hopes  of  effecting  her  conversion.  She  bore  their  intrusion  with  meek- 
ness, but  remained  unmoved  by  their  arguments.  On  the  same  even- 
ing, she  wrote  a  Greek  letter  to  her  sister,  Lady  Catharine,  on  a  blank 
leaf  in  her  Greek  Testament,  and,  next  morning,  Lord  Guildford  solicit- 
ed and  obtained  the  queen's  consent  to  an  interview  with  his  wife  ;  but 
Lady  Jane  declined  to  see  him,  afraid  lest  their  parting  scene  should 
overcome  the  fortitude  of  both,  and  dispossess  their  minds  of  that 
firmness  which  was  now  more  than  ever  necessary  to  bear  them  through 
their  last  moments  with  dignity  and  composure.  She  reminded  him  by 
message,  that  their  separation  would  be  but  for  a  moment,  and  that 
thry  would  soon  rejoin  each  other  in  a  scene  where  neither  disappoint- 

68  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foikth 

ment  nor  sutferiDg  could  ever  interrupt  their  eternal  felicity.  It  had 
been  originally  intended  that  the  hapless  pair  should  suffer  together  on 
Tower-hilly  but  the  council,  wisely  dreading  the  effect  which  such  an 
exhibition  might  have  on  the  populace,  changed  their  orders,  and  de- 
termined that  Lord  Guildford  only  should  he  executed  on  that  spot, 
and  that  Lady  Jane  should  suffer  within  the  precincts  of  the  tower. 
Dudley  met  his  fate  with  considerable  dignity  and  fortitude.  The 
sheriffs  then  announced  to  Lady  Jane  that  they  were  ready  to  attend 
her  to  the  scaffold.  She  was  conducted  to  the  place  of  execution  by 
Sir  John  Brydges,  the  lieutenant  of  the  tower.  On  reaching  the  scaf- 
fold, she  mounted  it  without  hesitation,  and  addressed  the  specta- 
tors in  a  short  speech,  in  which  she  admitted  her  crime  against  the 
queen,  but  declared  that  in  what  she  had  done,  she  had  only  consented 
to  the  thing  which  she  was  enforced  unto  by  the  persuasion  of  others  -^ 
she  then  confessed  herself  a  sinner,  and  declared  that  she  hoped  foi 
salvatKon  only  through  the  mercy  of  God  in  the  merits  of  the  blood  of 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  and  concluded  her  speech  by  requesting  the 
spectators  to  assist  her  with  their  prayers.  She  then  knelt  down,  and 
repeated  the  '*  Miserere  mei  Deus,"  after  which,  she  arose  and  pre- 
pared herself  for  the  axe.  Having  arranged  her  dress,  and  had  her 
eyes  bandaged,  she  was  guided  to  the  block,  on  which  she  laid  her 
head,  exclaiming,  '^  Lord,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit  I"  and 
at  one  Uow  the  executioner  separated  her  head  from  her  body. 

BORN  A.   D.   1516 DIED  A.  D.    1558. 

This  princess,  the  daughter  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Catharine  of  Arra- 
gon,  was  born  in  1516.  In  1518,  she  was  betrothed  to  the  dauphin  of 
France,  and  Toumay,  a  French  town  conquered  by  her  father,  assigned 
as  her  dowry.  In  1521,  however,  she  was  engaged  to  the  emperor, 
Charles  V. ;  and  again — so  variable  was  the  face  of  politics  and  the 
disposition  of  the  English  king — it  was  agreed,  by  a  treaty  of  1527, 
that  she  should  be  married  either  to  Francis,  the  French  monarch,  or 
to  the  duke  of  Orleans,  his  son.  But  in  the  fate  of  Catharine  that  of 
her  daughter  was  involved,  and  shortly  afler  Henry's  marriage  with 
Anne  Boleyn,  and  the  birth  of  his  second  daughter  Elizabeth,  parlia- 
ment, declaring  the  previous  marriage  with  Catharine  null,  transferred 
from  her  issue  the  right  of  succession  to  the  throne.  Mary,  however, 
was  soon  to  have  a  partner  in  this  loss  of  hereditary  rank — her  sister 
Elizabeth  herself;  for  in  1536,  after  the  execution  of  Anne  Boleyn. 
Henry's  issue  both  by  her  and  by  Catharine  were  pronounced  illegiti- 
mate. Yet — for  such  are  the  changing  features  and  contending  destinies 
of  life  where  its  fortunes  depend  on  the  lordly  caprice  of  tyrants  and 
the  shifting  charactervof  courts — it  seems  that  the  fall  of  Anne,  involv- 
ing the  degradation  of  Elizabeth,  opened  a  way  for  Mary's  restoration 
to  favour  with  the  king.  This — from  which,  it  is  said,  she  had  been 
previously  excluded  on  account  of  her  popish  sentiments — ^was  granted 
by  her  imperious  and  dogmatic  father,  on  her  acknowledging,  after  con- 
siderable resistance,  the  supremacy  of  the  king,  the  correctness  ci  his 

PuBioD.]  MART  I,  \j9 

theologicsl  opinions^  and  the  illegitimacy  of  his  marriage  with  her  own 
mother  Catharine.  In  1544,  after  the  birth  of  Prince  Edward,  she 
and  Elizabeth  were  placed  immediately  after  the  king's  male  issue  in 
the  order  of  succession  to  the  crown. 

Mary  has  been  said  to  have  been  educated  under  the  care  of  the  un- 
fortunate countess  of  Salisbury,  along  with  her  son,  the  celebrated  Car- 
dinal Pole,  between  whom  and  Maiy  a  tender  attachment  is  alleged  to 
have  been  formed.  However  this  may  be,  the  tenor  of  Mary's  life 
bears  witness  to  her  firm,  and  perhaps  it  is  but  fair  to  say,  her  sincere 
adherence  to  the  Romish  faith.  The  degree  in  which  her  character 
was  formed  by  her  religious  faith,  and  that  in  which  her  faith  was  de- 
termined by  the  native  constitution  of  her  mind,  it  may  not  be  easy  to 
discover.  But  there  is  not  wanting  a  certain  air  of  dignity — sadly 
prostituted,  yet  not,  perhaps,  unfit  to  relieve  the  darker  annads  of  her 
reign — ^in  the  part  she  took  in  reference  to  religion  under  the  short 
administration  of  her  brother  Edward  VI.  Zealous  as  Mary  was  about 
religion,  however,  she  is  represented  as  paying  an  undue  regard  to 
dress,  and  if  she  loved  splendour  in  the  service  of  the  church,  she 
showed  an  attachment  to  it  also  as  an  ornament  to  her  own  person. 

In  July,  1553,  while  on  her  way  to  visit  the  king  in  his  sickness, 
she  first  received  information,  from  the  earl  of  Arundel,  both  of  Edward's 
death  and  of  the  plot  against  her  own  succession.  On  this  she  proposed 
to  make  her  escape  to  Flanders,  should  she  find  herself  unable  to  support 
her  right,  but  took  measures  to  have  herself  proclaimed,  and  called  for 
assistance  to  her  cause.  The  result  of  the  brief  struggle  which  ensued 
has  been  already  detailed.  One  may  feel  inclined  to  reflect,  while 
acknowledging  the  legitimacy  of  Mary's  claim,  how  different  a  reign 
from  hers  might  have  been  that  of  the  pious  and  accomplished  Lady 
Jane,  had  Providence,  instead  of  removing  her  from  the  rude  ele- 
ments of  political  life,  permitted  her  to  occupy  the  English  throne^ 
Yet  after  all,  a  man  like  Northumberland  might  have  stained  the 
work  which  Gardiner  and  Bonner  sought  to  overthrow,  and  lessons 
of  human  weakness  and  intolerance,  precious  truly,  though,  in  this 
case,  feai'fiilly  enforced,  might  have  been  less  deeply  graven  for 
posterity  to  leani.  The  Protestant  cause,  considerably  forwarded 
under  Edward  by  Cranmer  and  other  influential  agents  in  the  work 
of  religious  reformation,  became  an  object  of  attack  at  the  very 
outset  of  his  sister's  reign.  Bonner,  Gardiner,  Tunstal,  and  others  were 
restored  to  their  bishoprics, — silence  was  imposed  on  all  preachers  ex- 
cept those  who  should  receive  a  license, — several  Protestant  prelates 
were  imprisoned,— contrary  to  law,  masses  were  revived  by  clergymen 
attached  to  the  Romish  faith, — ^revenge  was  taken  on  the  very  bones  of 
Foreign  Protestants, — ^many  adherents  of  that  now  endangered  cause  de- 
parted firom  the  country,-^and  the  very  first  of  Mary's  parliaments, 
which  met  on  the  5th  of  October,  was  opened  with  a  mass,  and  besides 
declaring  legitimate  Henry's  marriage  with  Catharine,  repealed  the 
statutes  respecting  religion  passed  in  Edward's  reign.  This  very  par- 
liament, however,  was  represented  by  Gardiner,  who  was  now  chan- 
cellor, as  not,  by  any  means,  inclined  to  restore,  in  all  respects,  the 
state  of  things  which  Mary,  as  a  Roman  Catholic,  may  have  desired, 
and  they  even  appointed  a  committee  to  expostulate  with  the  queen 
against  marrying,  as  she  now  proposiBd  to  do,  Philip,  the  son  of  Charles 

V.  Articles  of  marriage,  however,  were  prepared ,  which;  ou  the 
whole,  failed  to  satisfy  the  people,  although  it  was  proposed  that  the 
royal  power  was  to  be  vested  wholly  in  the  queen.  Against  tliis 
match  a  declaration  was  published  by  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  and  he,  the 
earl  of  Suffolk,  Sir  Peter  Carew,  and  Sir  George  Harper  were  s^txve  in 
promoting  a  rebellion  against  the  queen's  authority.  The  insurrections 
were  subdued ;  but  although  Mary  granted  pardon  to  four  hundred  of 
the  rioters  who  were  brought  before  her  with  ropes  around  their  necks, 
this  disturbance  led  to  the  execution  of  an  immense  number  of  persons, 
including  Lady  Jane  Grey.  Of  Elizabeth  too,  towards  whom  the 
queen  had  behaved  unkindly,  she  now  appeared  to  be  suspicious,  and 
that  princess  was  first  sent  to  the  tower,  and  then  superintended  in 
various  residences  by  persons  appointed  by  the  court.  On  the  5th  of 
April,  1554,  another  parliament  assembled.  They  confirmed  the  arti- 
cles of  marriage,  but  carefully  set  aside  the  claim  of  the  Spanish  prince 
to  any  legal  authority  in  England,  besides  omitting  to  pass  certain 
bills  directed  against  the  Protestant  &ith. 

On  the  19th  of  July,  af^er  fears  and  anxious  wishes  on  the  part  of 
Mary,  who,  cruel  as  are  the  transactions  of  her  reign,  appears  to  have 
been  very  liable  to  the  excitement  of  the  tender  passion,  Philip,  her 
intended  husband,  reached  Southampton.  On  the  27th,  they  were 
married  by  Bishop  Gardiner,  at  Winchester,  and  the  ceremony  was 
followed  by  a  public  entry  into  London.  Towards  Philip,  though  ap- 
parently he  was  by  no  means  popular  during  his  residence  in  Eng- 
land, the  queen  seems  to  have  entertained  feelings  of  somewhat  roman- 
tic tenderness.  Parliament,  however,  declined  agreeing  to  her  proposal, 
that  her  husband  should  be  crowned,  although  they  made  it  treasonable 
to  attempt  his  death,  and  although  she  gained  another  point  by  their 
agreeing  on  the  representation  of  her  favourite  Cardinal  Pole,  who  had 
come  over  as  a  legate  from  the  pope,  to  renew  the  connection  of  Eng- 
land with  the  papal  see,  and  reviving  laws  against  heresy.  Nor  did 
these  laws  remain  a  dead  letter ;  they  were  executed,  at  the  insti- 
gation of  Gardiner,  and  contrary  to  the  milder  views  or  feelings  of 
Cardinal  Pole,  with  terrible  severity.  It  is  reckoned  that,  during  three 
5'^ears  in  the  course  of  this  bloody  work,  carried  on  by  Gardiner  and 
his  associate  Bonner — a  name  justly  infamous  for  brutal  cruelty — ^277 
suffered  at  the  stake,  besides  other  punishments  for  imputed  heresy. 

Mary  also  aimed  at  the  restoration  of  the  ecclesiastical  property  of 
which  the  church  had  been  deprived ;  a  proposal  for  which  was  made 
by  the  pope,  and  on  the  suggestion  in  the  council  that  by  such  a  mea- 
sure the  crown  would  be  a  loser,  she  answered,  that  she  preferred  tlie 
saving  of  her  soul  to  the  possessing  ten  such  realms  as  England.  After 
great  opposition  in  the  house  of  commons,  her  object  was  enforced  by 
act  of  parliament  towards  the  end  of  1555.  She  proceeded  to  make 
heavy  impositions  on  her  subjects  to  supply  her  husband  Philip,  who 
had  gone  to  his  father  the  emperor,  and  who  seems  to  have  lost,  if  he 
^ver  possessed,  attachment  to  his  consort.  In  spite  of  his  solicitations, 
Mary  declined  to  continue  an  attempt  to  induce  her  sister  Elizabeth  to 
marry  the  duke  of  Savoy ;  but  in  March,  1556,  another  act  of  perse- 
caition  occurred  in  the  death  of  Cranmer,  on  which  occasion  he  crown- 
ed with  an  honourable  repentance,  and  a  faithful  martyrdom,  his  ser- 
vices to  the  English  reformation.    Pole  succeeded  him  as  archbishop 

Period.]  SIR  THOMAS  WYATT,  THE  YOUNGER.  7  \ 

of  Canterbury,  but  he  and  others  of  her  counsellors  opposed  the  queen's 
attempt  to  engage  England  in  a  war  betwixt  France  and  Spain,  an  ob- 
ject at  which  both  Philip  and  Mary  aimed.  The  queen,  however,  was 
able  to  raise  an  army  of  10,000  men,  which  was  sent  to  assist  in  a  war 
which,  in  1558,  deprived  the  English  of  Calais. 

In  1554,  Mary  had  entertained  an  idea  of  soon  having  an  heir,  and 
the  circumstance  was  intimated  to  foreign  courts,  and  occasioned  great 
joy.  Her  hopes,  however,  proved  fallacious,  and  the  supposed  preg- 
nancy is  represented  as  having  been  the  commencement  of  a  dropsy. 
At  last  a  combination  of  melancholy  circumstances  occurred.  The 
country  was  discontented,  Philip  was  alienated,  and  the  loss  of  Calais 
preyed  on  the  mind  of  Mary.  **  When  I  die,*'  said  she,  "  Calais  will 
be  found  at  my  heart'*  After  a  course  of  gloom  and  peevishness,  ter- 
minating a  life,  deformed  by  many  direful  acts,  though,  by  an  associa- 
tion monstrous  if  not  rare,  connected  with  the  holy  name  of  religion, 
she  died  on  the  17th  of  November,  1558,  the  same  day  that  her  coun- 
sellor. Cardinal  Pole,  expired,  in  the  sixth  year  of  her  reign,  and  forty- 
fourth  of  her  age. 

DIED  A.  D.   1554. 

Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  son  of  the  poet,  wit,  and  courtier  of  that 
name,  at  first  distinguished  himself  by  his  adherence  to  Queen  Mary's 
cause.  Though  allied  in  blood  to  the  Dudleys,  he  had  stood  aloof 
from  Northumberland's  insurrection,  and  before  the  issue  of  that  ill- 
planned  struggle  could  be  known,  had  proclaimed  Mary  at  Maidstone.^ 
The  projected  alliance  with  Mary  to  Philip  of  Spain  first  shook  his 
allegiance ;  he  had  been  employed  in  several  embaissies  to  Spain,  and 
his  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  that  court  was  such  as  to  determine 
him  against  any  such  intimate  alliance  betwixt  the  two  countries  as 
was  now  projected.  Preferring  patriotism  to  loyalty,  he  chose  to  risk 
his  royal  mistress's  favour  rather  than  see  the  interests  of  his  country 
trifled  with  to  gratify  a  woman's  passion;  In  the  plan  of  revolt  resolv- 
ed on — ^in  which,  if  not  the  author,  he  took  the  leading  part — ^it  was 
agreed  that  Wyatt  should  raise  the  standard  of  revolt  in  Kent ;  Sir 
Peter  Carew  was  the  leader  in  the  west ;  and  the  duke  of  Suffolk  un- 
dertook to  raise  the  midland  counties.  The  premature  discovery  of 
their  designs  disconcerted  their  plan  of  co-operation.  Carew  fled  to 
France;  and  Suffolk  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  excite  his  tenants 
in  Warwickshire ;  but  Sir  Thomas  having  established  his  head-quarters 
at  Rochester,  was  joined  by  a  considerable  number  of  Kentish  men. 
The  duke  of  Norfolk  hastened  to  quell  the  rebels,  but  the  London 
trained  bands,  under  Brete,  who  composed  a  principal  part  of  Norfolk's 
force,  but  were  chiefly  Protestants,  and  therefore  not  very  hearty  in 
the  queen's  cause,  fell  back  fix)m  their  post,  or  rather  went  over  to 
Wyatt,  in  the  very  outset  of  the  engagement,  shouting  aloud,  '^  We  are 
all  Englishmen  I"  and  Norfolk  was  left  nearly  alone  to  shift  for  him- 


72  POLmCAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

•elf.  The  court  opened  an  ineffectual  negotiation  with  Wyatt,  now 
advancing  upon  London  at  the  head  of  15,000  men ;  and  Elizabeth 
being  suspected  of  encouraging  the  rebels,  was  ordered  to  repair  in- 
stantly to  London. 

On  the  2d  of  February,  1654,  Wyatt  appeared  at  Deptford,  but  instead 
of  pushing  on  to  London,  imprudently  halted  a  day  there,  thus  affording 
Mary's  partisans  time  to  rally  around  her.  Defeated  in  an  attempt  to 
force  London  bridge,  he  retired  to  Kingston,  and  crossing  the  river  at 
that  place  without  resistance,  arrived  at  Hyde  Park  comer  on  the  7th. 
Gardiner  now  entreated  the  queen  to  throw  herself  into  the  tower ;  but 
she  would  not  listen  to  the  proposal,  and  employed  herself  in  encourag- 
ing her  troops  to  stand  their  ground  against  the  approaching  foe.  At 
Charing-cross  a  fierce  conflict  ensued,  in  which  Wyatt,  rashly  advanc- 
ing too  Car  at  the  head  of  a  small  party,  was  surrounded  and  made 
prisoner  after  a  most  heroic  resistance.  It  was  immediately  given  out 
that  Wyatt  had  made  a  full  discovery  of  his  accomplices,  and  had 
named  the  princess  Elizabeth  amongst  them.  It  was  said  that  she  had 
received  from  Wyatt  the  whole  scheme  of  his  plot  in  a  bracelet  which 
he  had  caused  to  be  conveyed  to  her ;  and  she  was  accordingly  sent 
for  in  haste  to  Hampton  court.  Nearly  a  month  appears  to  have  been 
employed  in  endeavouring  to  get  Wyatt  to  inculpate  the  princess,  who 
was  meanwhile  detained  in  the  tower  as  a  state-prisoner.  Elizabeth 
was  loud  and  vehement  in  her  protestations  of  ignorance,  and  solemnly 
denied  that  she  ever  had  held  correspondence  with  *  that  traitor  Wyatt.' 
But  the  '  traitor'  was  as  little  disposed  to  accuse  the  princess  as  her 
best  friends  could  be ;  and  when  the  attorney-general  endeavoured  to 
insinuate  that  Elizabeth  had  been  induced  to  countenance  the  rebellion, 
Wyatt  indignantly  denied  the  imputation.  Nor  did  Mary's  agents  suc- 
ceed more  to  their  wishes  with  any  of  the  minor  conspirators,  none  of 
whom  could,  by  any  threats  or  promises,  be  made  to  criminate  the 
princess.  This  brave  youth  was  beheaded  on  the  1 1th  of  April,  and 
spent  his  last  breath  in  asserting  Elizabeth's  innocence  of  any  participa- 
tion in  his  plans. 

DIED  A.  D.  1555. 

John  Russell,  first  earl  of  Bedford,  was  the  eldest  son  of  James 
Russell  of  Kingston  in  the  county  of  Dorset,  an  estate  which  had  been 
for  nearly  four  centuries  in  the  family.  Having  been  accidentally  in- 
troduced to  Philip,  archduke  of  Austria,  at  the  house  of  Sir  Thomas 
Trenchard,  that  prince  was  so  much  pleased  with  his  manners  and  ap* 
pearance,  that  he  took  him  to  Windsor  in  his  retinue  and  recommended 
him  strongly  to  Henry  VII.,  who  appointed  him  one  of  the  gentlemen 
of  his  privy  chamber.  It  has  been  doubted,  however,  how  far  the 
Spaniard's  visit  to  Henry  on  this  occasion  was  an  act  of  spontaneous 
courtesy.  He  had  been  shipwrecked  at  Weymouth,  and  though  hos- 
pitably .entertained  at  the  mansion  of  Sir  Thomas  Trenchard,  may  have 
been  regarded  by  his  host  as  a  prisoner  rather  than  a  guest.  In  con- 
formity with  this  view  of  the  matter,  Russell  has  been  represented  as 


having  accompanied  the  archduke  to  court  in  the  capacity  of  a  sentinel, 
placed  over  him  to  observe  his  motions  and  preclude  the  possibility  of 
his  making  his  escape.  Whether  or  not  this  latter  view  be  correct,  it  is 
certain  that  young  Russell  owed  his  first  introduction  at  court  to  the 
circumstance  of  the  archduke's  appearance  there,  and  that  he  soon 
became  a  favourite  and  honoured  courtier. 

On  the  accession  of  Henry  VIIJ  ^  Russell  was  honoured  with  an  in* 
creased  share  of  royal  patronage.  His  polished  manners,  his  graceful 
appearance,  his  acquaintance  with  foreign  languages,  and  various  other 
advantages  which  he  had  gained  during  some  years  of  foreign  travel, 
all  conspired  to  recommend  him  to  the  good  graces  of  a  monarch  fond 
of  show  and  gallantry.  In  1513,  he  accompanied  the  king  to  France, 
and  during  the  siege  of  Theroiienne,  performed  an  act  of  singular 
bravery,  having  at  the  head  of  only  250  men  retaken  a  piece  of  ord- 
nance from  a  large  body  of  the  enemy.  Soon  after  this  exploit,  he 
succeeded  in  cutting  off  a  large  supply  of  provisions  which  the  Prench 
were  endeavouring  to  introduce  into  the  town.  On  this  occasion  Henry 
advanced  to  meet  him  on  his  return  towards  the  camp,  and  the  follow- 
ing dialogue  took  place :  **  So,"  cried  the  king,  "  while  we  are  fooling 
the  town  is  relieved  I"  "  So  it  is,  indeed,"  answered  Russell,  "  for  I  have 
sent  them  two  thousand  carcasses,  and  they  have  spared  us  twelve  hun- 
dred waggons  of  provisions."  "  But  I  sent  afler  you,"  replied  the 
king,  « to  cut  off  the  bridge."  "  That"  rejoined  Russell,  «  was  the  first 
thing  I  did,  wherefore  I  am  upon  my  knees  for  your  majesty's  grace  and 
pardon."  "  Nay  then,"  exclaimed  Henry,  "  by  our  lady  thou  hast  not 
my  pardon  only,  but  my  &vour  too  I"  In  1522,  Russell  accompanied 
the  naval  expedition  commanded  by  the  earl  of  Surrey  against  France, 
and  was  knighted  by  that  nobleman  for  his  good  service  at  the  sacking 
of  Morlaix.  In  1523,  he  was  sent  on  an  embassy  to  Rome,  whence  he 
proceeded  to  the  court  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  whom  he  prevailed 
on  to  join  the  alliance  between  Henry  and  the  emperor.  In  1525,  he 
fought  in  the  battle  of  Pavia. 

In  March  1538,  he  was  created  Baron  Russell  of  Cheneys  in  the 
county  of  Buckingham,  an  estate  which  he  had  acquired  by  his  wife. 
He  had  already  been  appointed  comptroller  of  the  household,  and  mem- 
ber of  the  privy  council.  On  the  dissolution  of  the  greater  monasteries, 
his  royal  master  heaped  wealth  upon  him  with  a  most  bountiful  hand : 
among  other  grants,  he  obtained  the  entire  demesne  of  the  rich  abbey 
of  Tavistock,  comprising  nearly  thirty  manors,  with  other  large  estates 
in  Devon,  Bucks,  and  Somerset  In  1541,  he  was  constituted  lord-ad- 
miral of  England  and  Ireland;  and  in  1543,  the  custody  of  the  privy 
seal  was  committed  to  him. 

At  the  coronation  of  Edward  VI.,  he  executed  the  office  of  lord-high- 
Bteward  of  England,  and  soon  after  received  a  grant  of  the  dissolved 
monastery  of  Wobum  in  Bedfordshire,  which  has  been  the  chief  resi- 
dence of  the  Bedford  family  ever  since.  His  services  against  the  insur- 
gents in  the  western  counties,  in  1549,  procured  for  him  the  title  of 
earl  of  Bedford,  and  removed  him  from  the  still  more  dangerous  scene 
of  intrigue  then  getting  up  against  the  protector.  He  did  not  long  sur-^ 
vive  the  accession  of  Mary.  His  last  public  service  was  to  escort 
Philip  of  Spain  from  Corunna  to  London,  and  introduce  him  to  that 
princess.     He  died  on  the  14th  of  March,  1555.     His  character,  if  not 

IL  K 

74  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Focbth 

remarkable  for  great  qualities,  remsuDS  free  from  the  charge  of  great 
crimeB.  A  Burke  once  sought  to  wound  an  earl  of  Bedford  through 
the  founder  of  his  family,  but  the  censure  was  made  in  general  terms, 
and  amounted  to  little  more  than  the  insinuation  that  the  first  earl  of 
Bedford  may  not  have  deserved  all  the  favours  which  successive  sove- 
reigns were  pleased  to  heap  upon  him. 

BORN  CIRC.  A.  D.  1508. — DIED  A.  D.   1559. 

Sir  Thomas  Pope,  the  founder  of  Trinity  college,  Oxford,  was 
born  at  Deddington,  in  Oxfordshire,  about  the  year  1508.  He  was 
educated  at  Banbury  school,  and  subsequently  at  Eton  college.  Hav- 
ing adopted  the  profession  of  the  law,  he  studied  at  Gray's  inn,  and,  in 
October,  1533,  received  the  appointment  of  clerk  of  the  brie&  in  the 
star-chamber.  Two  years  after,  he  was  constituted  warden  of  the 
mint ;  and,  in  October,  1536,  he  received  the  honour  of  knighthood  at 
the  same  time  with  Henry  Howard.  In  1539,  on  the  first  establish- 
ment of  the  court  of  augmentations.  Sir  Thomas  received  the  lucrative 
office  of  its  treasurership.  The  business  of  this  court  was  to  make  up  val- 
uations of  the  lands  belonging  to  the  dissolved  monasteries,  to  collect 
their  revenues,  and  genendly  to  apply  the  possessions  of  dissolved  re- 
ligious establbhments  to  the  use  and  behoof  of  the  crown.  The  trea- 
surer's office  was  a  post  of  considerable  profit  and  dignity,  and  the  per- 
son holding  it  ranked  with  the  principal  officers  of  state* 

Sir  Thomas  held  this  last  office  for  five  years,  and,  on  the  formatiort 
of  a  new  court  of  augmentation  in  1546,  he  was  nominated  master  of 
che  crown  forests  on  this  side  the  Trent,  and  a  member  of  the  privy 
council.  These  successive  appointments,  especially  those  connected 
with  the  augmentation  courts,  brought  in  an  immense  revenue  to  Sir 
Thomas,  and,  in  1556,  we  find  him  possessed  of  no  fewer  than 
thirty  manors,  besides  other  estates  and  advowsons.  During  the  reign 
of  Henry  VHI.  Sir  Thomas  continued  high  in  favour  at  court ;  but  on 
the  accession  of  Edward  VI.,  his  religious  principles  militated  against 
him,  and  he  received  neither  favour  nor  office.  The  succession  of  Mary 
again  opened  up  the  road  of  preferment  and  honour  to  him,  and  he  was 
appointed  a  privy  councillor  and  cofierer  to  the  royal  household.  Dur- 
ing this  reign  we  find  his  name  associated  with  that  of  Bonner  and 
others,  in  a  commission  for  the  more  effectual  suppression  of  heretics ; 
yet  his  behaviour  towards  the  princess  Elizabeth,  who  was  placed  under 
his  care  in  1555,  was  highly  courteous  and  creditable  to  his  feelings  as 
a  man  of  honour  and  integrity.  He. died  shortly  after  Elizabeth's  ac- 
cession to  the  throne,  in  January,  1559,  and  was  interred  in  the  parish 
church  of  St  Stephen's,  Walbrook,  where  his  second  wife,  Margaret,  had 
been  buried ;  but,  in  1567,  their  bodies  were  removed  to  the  chapel  of 
Trinity  college. 

It  was  at  a  period  when  the  rage  for  polemic  disputation  had  almost 
expelled  the  study  of  classic  literature  from  the  schools,  that  Sir 
Thomas  founded  Trinity  college  in  Oxford,  and  made  it  a  particular 
regulation,  that  its  inmates  should  acquire  **  a  just  relish  for  the  graces 

Period.]  CABDINAL  POLE.  "5 

and  punty  of  the  Latin  tongue."  The  authors  enjoined  to  be  read  with 
this  view,  were  Cicero,  Quintiiian,  Aulus  Gellius,  Plaatus,  Terence, 
Virgil,  Horace,  Livy,  and  Lucan.  Cardinal  Pole,  at  the  request  oi 
the  founder,  revised  the  statutes  of  tlie  new  foundation. 

Carliinal  IPoIe. 

BORN  A.  D.  IdOO.— DIED  JL  D.  1658. 

This  eminent  ecclesiastical  politician  was  bom  at  Stoverton  castle, 
Lancashire,  in  1500.  He  was  son  of  Sir  Richard  Pole,  by  thf 
countess  of  Salisbury,  who  was  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Clarence, 
brother  of  Edward  IV.  He  had  for  instructors  those  two  celebrated 
men,  William  Latimer  and  Thomas  Linacre,  the  former  of  whom  war 
indebted  to  his  pupil's  influence  for  ecclesiastical  preferment.  After 
studying  at  Sheen,  Pole  was  entered  at  Magdalene  college,  Oxford.  In 
1517,  he  became  prebendary  of  Roscomb,  in  the  church  of  Salisbury, 
and,  about  two  years  after,  was  promoted  to  the  deanery  of  Exeter. 
In  1519,  he  set  out  for  Italy,  ftirnished  for  his  travels  by  his  relative, 
Henry  VIII.,  who  also  afforded  him  an  annual  pension.  After  visiting 
several  foreign  universities,  he  took  up  his  residence  at  Padua.  Thence 
he  proceeded  to  Venice  and  other  parts  of  Italy.  In  1525,  he  went  to 
Rome,  where  he  wished  to  witness  the  celebration  of  the  jubilee,  and, 
the  same  year,  returned,  by  Florence,  to  England.  Here  he  was  well 
received,  but,  leaving  court,  retired  to  a  Carthusian  convent  at  Sheen, 
in  Surrey. 

In  1529,  Pole  obtained  permission  again  to  go  abroad.  By  means 
of  him,  during  his  stay  on  the  continent,  Henry  sought  to  obtain  the 
assent  of  tlie  university  of  Paris  to  the  invalidity  of  his  marriage  with 
Catharine  of  Arragon.  Pole  declined  the  office ;  but,  in  the  course  of 
a  short  time,  again  took  up  his  residence  at  Sheen.  His  assent  being 
desired  to  tlie  question  respecting  the  validity  of  the  royal  marriage  being 
determined  without  reference  to  the  papal  court,  and,  it  is  said,  the  arch- 
bishopric of  York  being  held  out  to  him  as  an  inducement,  he  went  to 
oonfer  with  Henry  on  ^e  subject,  but,  instead  of  assenting,  as  he  had 
intended  to  do,  expressed  an  opposite  opinion.  His  conduct,  in  this 
matter  gave  offence  to  the  king,  but  he  was  again  permitted  to  go 
abroad,  and  even  continued  to  receive  his  pension.  Leaving  England, 
he  proceeded  to  Avignon,  and  afterwards  to  Padua,  from  which  he  oc- 
casionally went  to  Venice.  At  last,  he  expressed  himself  decidedly 
against  the  king's  divorce  from  Catharine,  and  also  against  Henry's  ec- 
clesiastical supremacy,  in  a  work  on  *  Church  Unity,'  which  was  printed 
in  1536.  In  this  book  he  compares  Henry  to  Nebuchadnezzar,  and 
calb  on  the  emperor,  Charles  V.  to  avenge  the  cause  of  Catharine  and 
the  Romish  church.  **  The  book,"  says  Bishop  Burnet,'  "  was  more 
considered  for  the  author,  and  the  wit  and  eloquence  of  it,  than  for  any 
great  learning  or  deep  reasoning  in  lU  The  indecencies  of  the  expres- 
sions against  the  king^  not  to  mention  the  scurrilous  language  he  be- 
stows on  Sampson,  whose  book  he  undertook  to  answer,  are  such,  that 

*  Hiftoiy  of  the  Reformation,  book  iii. 

76  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foukth 

it  appears  ho«r  much  the  Italian  air  had  changed  him,  and  that  his  con* 
vene  at  Padua  had  for  some  time  defaced  that  generous  temper  of 
mind  which  was  otherwise  so  natural  to  him.'*  The  king,  however, 
did  not  at  once  proceed  to  extremities  against  him,  but  asked  him  to 
come  over  to  England  and  explain  certain  parts  of  his  treatise.  Pole, 
however,  continued  his  residence  abroad,  where  he  seems  to  have  gain- 
ed great  distinction  as  a  literary  man,  and  was  deprived  of  his  ecclesi- 
astical offices  at  home. 

But  the  way  to  ruin  in  England  was,  in  Italy,  the  course  to  dignity 
and  power.  Pole  was  summoned  by  the  pope  to  attend  a  general 
council  for  the  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  abuses.  He  reached  that 
city  in  1536.  His  holiness  offered  to  make  him  a  cardinal.  This 
honour  he  declined ;  but  at  length  he  was  prevailed  upon  ;  and,  having 
received  the  clerical  tonsure,  was  created  cardinal  of  St  Nereus  and 
Achilleus.  The  pope  also  appointed  him  nuncio  to  France  and  Flan- 
ders. At  Paris  he  did  not  continue  long.  On  hearing  that  Henry 
had  solicited  the  king  of  France  to  give  him  up,  he  went  to  Cambray, 
from  whence  he  removed  to  Liege,  and  was  thence  recalled  to  Rome 
About  this  period  of  his  life  he  seems  to  have  been  busily  engaged  in 
treasonable  intercourse  with  England,  and  it  has  been  supposed  to  have 
been  with  a  view  to  exciting  a  rebellion  there,  that  the  pope  sent  him 
again  to  France  and  Flanders  in  1538.  In  that  year,  a  correspondence 
of  the  cardinal  with  his  two  brothers,  Lord  Montacute  and  Sir  Geof- 
frey de  la  Pole,  besides  some  other  English  gentlemen,  was  discovered, 
and  brought  several  individuals  to  execution.  His  mother,  the  coun- 
tess of  Salisbury,  was  soon  to  follow.  One  of  the  accusations  against 
her,  was  a  correspondence  with  her  son,  the  cardinal ;  and,  in  May, 
1539,  this  aged  lady  perished  on  the  scaffold. 

In  the  year  1545,  the  pope  summoned  a  council  to  the  town  of 
Trent.  To  this  Pole  and  two  other  cardinals  were  sent,  as  legates 
from  his  holiness.  On  this  occasion,  Pole  wrote  a  book  on  councils, 
and  proceeded  to  Trent,  attended  by  an  escort,  it  being  apprehended 
that  emissaries  from  the  English  king  awaited  him  on  the  road.  At 
length,  however,  in  1547,  Henry  died.  On  young  Edward's  accession, 
the  cardinal  sent  an  apology  for  himself,  and  recommended  a  reconci- 
liation of  England  to  the  pope.  In  1549,  on  the  death  of  his  holiness, 
he  himself  was  elected  to  the  papal  chair.  He  declined,  however,  to  ac- 
cept,  aUeging  that  the  election  had  been  precipitately  and  unseasonably 
made.  Whether  his  refusal  arose  from  an  unmingled  sense  of  honour 
ana  propriety,  or  whether  it  was  not  ratlier  influenced  by  an  anticipa- 
tion  of  attaining  to  the  English  throne,  by  means  of  a  marriage  with 
the  prmcess  Mary,  it  might  be  useless  to  inquire.     By  permSion  of 

IvLr^h    ^P^'  .'^"^'''^  ^^"  ^^  '^♦^'•^^   to  a  monastery  at  Maguzano, 
At  1      ^^"^'^^  'intil  the  death  of  Edward  VI.  "guzano, 

thronV  thf  ^'  ''''  ^®  accession  of  the  prmcess  Mary  to  the  English 
It  has  been  ^^Pf  ,?PP«»nt«d  the  cardinal  legate  to  his  native  country, 
under  his  mn?>!  1^  *^  "^"^  "^^l^""  ^^^  educated  along  with  Pole, 
tachment  suh^frii  u^  ^^''"^^^^  ^^  Salisbury,  and  even  that  an  early  at- 
sal  seems  to  hi  u^^"^^^^  ^^^  ^'^^^  However  this  may  be,  a  propo- 
should  m^rrvXt^^^'' ^f^  ^^qut  the  time  of  her  accession,  that  Sie 

the  emperor,  cWlLaV    -"^  a  J^M^^^y  «»  ^^  subject  the  conduct  of 
>  Charles  V.,  m  detaining  the  legate  in  his  dominions  after 

Period.]  CABDINAL  POLE.  77 

the  latter  had  set  out  on  his  embassy  to  England,  has  been  attributed* 
Nfegotiations  had  previously  taken  place,  for  Mary's  marriage  with 
Philip,  the  emperor's  son.  It  is  possible,  however,  that,  as  a  late  ex* 
cellent  historian  remarks,'  Charles  *'  feared  the  opposition  of  Pole  to 
the  Spanish  match,  not  only  as  an  Englishman,  but  as  jealous  of  Spanish 
greatness,  and  unwilling  that  his  influence  over  Mary  should  be  shared 
with  a  husband  of  commanding  character."  On  November  20th, 
1554,  the  cardinal  arrived  at  Dover.  He  found  the  act  of  attainder 
against  him  repealed,  was  received  by  the  king  and  queen  at  Whitehall, 
and  proceeded  to  Lambeth,  where  the  palace  had  been  fitted  up  for 
his  use.  On  the  27th,  he  proposed  to  parliament,  that  they  should  en- 
ter into  a  reconciliation  with  the  pope.  For  this  both  houses  applied. 
Their  petition  was  presented  to  tiie  king  and  queen.  They,  in  their 
turn,  interceded  with  the  legate,  who  accordingly  granted  absolution. 
After  this  ceremony,  the  Te  Deum  was  sung.  Two  days  thereafter, 
Pole  went  publicly  through  London,  but  was  not  well  received  by  the 

Previously  to  the  cardinal's  arrival  in  England,  he  and  the  emperor 
had  disagreed  in  the  counsel  which  they  gave  respecting  the  restoration 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion.  Charles  recommended  the  change  to 
be  gradually  made,  while  Pole,  like  "  a  true  son  of  the  church,"  advised 
the  immediate  re-establishment  of  the  old  institution.  Nor  can  it  be 
said  that  the  legate,  after  his  arrival,  was  by  any -means  utterly  free 
from  severity  in  carrying  out  his  views.  He  issued  commissions  for 
the  prosecution  of  heretics,  towards  whom  he  testified  an  orthodox  dis- 
pleasure. His  opposition  seems  to  have  extended  to  public  documents 
as  well  as  living  heretics.  The  following  somewhat  curious  proclama- 
tion is  recorded  in  Bishop  Burnet's  preface  to  the  History  of  the  Re- 
formation : — <*  Whereas  it  has  come  to  our  knowledge  that,  in  the  time 
of  the  late  schism,  divers  compts,  books,  scrolls,  and  instruments,  and 
other  writs,  were  practised,  devised,  and  made,  concerning  professions 
against  the  pope's  holiness,  and  the  see  apostolic ;  and  also  sundry  in- 
formal scrutinies  taken  in  abbeys  and  other  religious  houses,  tending 
rather  to  subvert  and  overthrow  all  good  religion  and  religious  houses 
than  for  any  truth  contained  therein  :  which  being  in  the  custody  of 
divers  registers,  and  we  intending  to  have  those  writings  brought  to. 
knowledge,  whereby  they  may  be  considered  and  ordered  according 
to  our  will  and  pleasure,"  &c.  Bonner,  Cole,  dean  of  St  Paul's,  an(* 
Dr  Martine,  or  any  two  of  them,  are  accordingly  '*  empowered  to  cite 
any  persons  before  them,  and  examine  them  upon  the  premises  upon 
oath,  and  to  bring  all  such  writings  before  them,  and  certify  their  dili- 
gence about  it  to  Cardinal  Pool,  that  further  order  may  be  given  about 
them."  Zealous,  however,  as  Pole  was  in  favour  of  his  church,  he  and 
Bishop  Gardiner  seem  to  have  differed  in  regard  to  toleration, — ^the 
latter  encouraging  high  principles  of  persecution  for  heresy, — the  for- 
mer, who  seems  to  have  been  naturally  benevolent  and  mild,  advising 
less  severity. 

But  persecution  proved  the  means  of  the  cardinal's  promotion :  for 
on  the  execution  of  Cranmer,  in  1556,  Pole  succeeded  him  as  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury.     Mary  gave  another  expression  of  regard  for 

*  Sir  J.  Mackintosh,  Hitt.  of  England^  vol.  U.  p  29^ 

78  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

the  cardinal,  when,  in  1557,  Paul  IV.,  who  had  a  prejudice  against 
him,  withdrew  his  authority  as  legate,  and  appointed  Cardinal  Peyto 
in  his  room.  Her  majesty  interfered  in  the  matter,  and,  ultimately, 
Pole  was  reinstated  in  the  office.  Yet  he  did  not  uniformly  support 
the  measures  of  the  queen.  When,  shortly  before  the  end  of  her  life, 
she  sought  the  prosecution  of  war  between  France  and  Spain,  he  set 
himself  against  the  scheme. 

Both  were  soon  to  leave  the  political  scene  on  whicii  they  had  acted 
so  prominent  a  part.  The  queen  expired,  November  17  th,  1558,  and 
the  cardinal,  who  had  long  been  sickly,  on  the  same  day  or  that  im- 
mediately succeeding.  His  body  lay  in  state  at  Lambeth,  and  was 
thence  conveyed  to  Canterbury.  On  his  monument  was  inscribed 
this  short  and  simple  epitaph  i-^DeposUum  Cardinalis  PolL 

BORN  A.  D.  1533. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1603. 

This  celebrated  princess  was  daughter  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Anne 
Boleyn,  his  queen,  and  was  bom  at  the  palace  of  Greenwich,  7th  Sep- 
tember, 1533.  The  infant  was  created  princess  of  Wales,  and  her 
baptism  was  attended  by  a  host  of  noble  personages  :  Cranmer,  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  at  the  request  of  the  king,  standing  godfather  to 
the  child.  In  1535,  Henry  negotiated  with  the  king  of  France  respect- 
ing a  marriage  between  young  Elizabeth  and  the  duke  of  Angouleme, 
the  third  son  of  that  monarch ;  but  the  pope  declined  to  rescind  his 
predecessor's  sentence  against  Henry  for  his  divorce  with  Catharine, 
and  the  matrimonial  scheme  was  frustrated.  Bv  the  execution  of  Anne, 
in  the  following  year,  Elizabeth  was  deprived  of  her  mother.  The  loss, 
however,  she  was  too  young  perhaps  adequately  to  understand,  nor, 
probably,  was  Anne — whether  innocent  or  not  of  the  charge  which 
brought  her  to  the  scafibld — ^particularly  fitted  to  advance  the  im- 
provement of  her  child.  The  wants  of  the  daughter  seem  to  have  been 
neglected  amidst  the  greater  misfortunes  of  the  mother,  and  Elizabeth's 
governess.  Lady  Bryan,  in  a  letter  supposed  to  have  been  written  soon 
after  the  death  of  the  latter,  asks  of  Cromwell,  Henry's  minister,  a  sup- 
ply of  clothing  for  her  royal  charge.  But  this  little  domestic  misfor- 
tune was  not  the  limit  of  Elizabeth's  early  losses.  In  the  parliament 
which  met  a  few  weeks  after  her  mother's  death,  she,  as  well  as  her  sister 
Mary,  was  pronounced  illegitimate,  and  her  right  of  succession  to  the 
throne  annulled.  This  privilege,  however,  was  restored  by  act  of  par^s 
liament  in  1544,  and,  on  the  death  of  James  V.  of  Scotland,  the  king, 
according  to  the  manner  of  the  time,  and  of  the  English  court  when 
under  the  wayward  rule  of  Henry,  who,  if,  in  his  own  case,  he  accom- 
modated politics  to  wedlock,  seems,  in  that  of  his  children,  to  have  made 
marriage  subservient  to  the  safety  of  his  throne  and  the  aggrandise- 
ment of  his  kingdom — besides  ofiering  his  young  son,  Edward,  in  mar- 
riage to  James's  Infant  daughter,  Mary,  had  proposed  Elizabeth  to  the 
earl  of  Arran,  regent  of  Scotland,  for  himself  or  for  his  son,  it  seems 
uncertain  which.  In  154G,  however,  proposals  were  made  for  a  union 
betwixt   her   and   Philip   of  Spain,  who  was   afterwards   married   to 

Pbriod.]  ELIZABETH.  79 

her  elder  sister,  Mary.  Meanwhile,  under  the  care  of  William  Griu- 
dal,  and  then  of  the  celebrated  Roger  Ascham,  the  princess  had  been 
proceeding  in  her  literary  studies ;  and,  in  1550,  the  latter,  in  an  epistle 
to  Sturmius,  describes  her,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  as  of  solid  intellect, 
courteous  manners,  retendve  memory,  and  warm  attachment  to  religion 
and  learning, — as  excelling  in  French,  Italian,  music,  and  penmanship, — 
md  as  having  read  with  him  most  of  Cicero,  and  a  large  portion  of  Livy, 
as  well  as  plays  of  Sophocles,  speeches  of  Isocrates,  and  the  Greek  New 

The  death  of  Edward  VI.,  in  July,  1553,  deprived  Elizabeth  of  a 
brother  possessed  of  literary  attainments  and  religious  principles  kindred 
to  her  own,  by  whose  mother  she  seems  to  have  been  kindly  treated,  and 
betwixt  whom  and  Elizabeth  there  subsisted  a  mutual  attachment.  Ed- 
ward, however,  was  induced,  before  his  death,  to  settle  the  succession 
to  the  throne  on  his  cousin.  Lady  Jane  Grey.  On  his  demise,  accord- 
ingly, Lady  Jane  was  prodainoed,  and  messengers  from  the  earl  of 
Northumberland,  the  prominent  agent  in  that  fiital  step,  sought  to  in- 
duce Elizabeth  to  resign  her  claim.  She  replied,  that  the  first  person 
to  be  settled  with  on  the  subject  was  Mary ;  and,  having  put  herself  at 
the  head  of  a  thousand  horse,  she  proceeded  to  meet  her  sister  on  her 
way  to  London,  and  accompanied  her  on  her  public  entry  into  the  me- 
tropolis. But,  in  her  connection  with  Mary's  court,  Elizabeth's  lot  was 
to  prove  uufortunate :  owing,  it  appears,  in  part  at  least,  to  a  prefer- 
ence shown  by  Courtney — ^whom  the  queen,  on  her  accession,  released 
from  imprisonment,  and  towards  whom  she  seems  to  have  felt  a  tender 
attachment — for  the  younger  princess.  The  marriage  of  Henry  VIII. 
and  Catharine  of  Arragon,  the  mother  of  the  queen,  having  been  con- 
firmed as  valid  by  the  parliament  which  met  at  the  beginning  of  Mary's 
reign,  the  daughter  of  Anne  Boleyn  ranked,  at  couri^  after  the  coun- 
tess of  Lennox  and  the  duchess  of  Sufiblk,  and  she  soon  retired  firom 
the  scene  of  her  degradation  to  Ashridge,  in  Buckinghamshire,  where 
Sir  Thomas  Pope  and  Sir  John  Gage  were  appointed  to  attend  her. 
But,  on  occasion  of  Wyatt's  insurrection  at  the  beginning  of  1554, 
Mary  recalled  her  to  court,  under  pretext  of  care  for  Elizabeth's  safety. 
This  summons  the  sickness  of  the  latter,  feigned  or  real,  withheld  her 
from  obeying.  But,  a  report  arising  of  the  princess  being  an  accom- 
plice of  Wyatt,  in  his  rebellious  attempt,  a  deputation  from  court  hur- 
ried her  away  from  Ashridge.  She  was  borne  on  a  litter,  and  on  the 
way  received  public  expressions  of  regard.  After  being  examined  by 
the  privy-council,  before  whom  she  declared  herself  innocent,  she  return- 
ed to  her  country  residence.  The  report  of  her  connection  witli  the  re- 
bellion, however,  w^  renewed,  and,  although  she  wrote  the  queen  a  let- 
ter on  the  subject,  and  continued  to  declare  her  innocence,  she  was  com- 
mitted to  the  tower.  On  going  out  of  the  barge  which  bore  her  to  the 
place  of  her  confinement,  she  said,  <<  Here  landeth  as  true  a  subject, 
being  a  prisoner,  as  ever  landed  at  these  stairs ;  and  before  thee,  O 
God  I  I  speak  it,  having  no  other  friends  but  thee  alone."  Wyatt,  at  his 
execution,  pronounced  her  innocent  of  concern  in  his  attempt;  and, 
after  having  been  kept  in   close  confinement  for  a  month,  she  was 

1  Ascham  has  remarked  the  circumstance  of  Elizabeth  having  been  educated   ac- 
cording to  his  favourite  method  of  Double  TranglaHons. 

80  POLITICAL  SEEIES.  [Foubtp 

comeyed  at  last  from  the  tower  to  the  palace  of  RichmoDd.  She  had 
been  iDtrusted  to  the  care  of  Sir  Henry  Beddingfield.  HU  behaviour 
was  rough,  and  the  princess — ^who  seems  to  have  been  greatly  moved 
by  her  present  circumstances — ^was  still  treated  as  a  prisoner.  Mary 
offered  her  deliverance  if  she  would  agree  to  marry  the  duke  of  Savoy 
'—a  proposal  which  Elizabeth  declined.  She  wa9  now  conveyed  to 
Oxfordshire,  and,  on  the  third  day,  after  receiving  expressions  of  popu- 
lar regard  on  the  journey,  reached  Ricot,  the  residence  of  Lord 
Williams.  Here  she  was  hospitably  received ;  but  she  was  soon  re- 
moved to  Woodstock,  where  Beddingfield  continued  to  attend  her. 
Early,  however,  in  1555,  Elizabeth,  who  had  gained  the  personal  or 
political  favour  of  Philip,  now  the  husband  of  the  queen,  came,  attend- 
ed by  Beddingfield,  to  Hampton-court.  Bishop  Gardiner  advised  her 
to  make  submission  to  Mary ;  but  she  rejected  the  proposal,  declaring 
that  she  appealed  to  the  laws  of  the  country,  not  to  the  clemency 
of  the  queen.  At  an  interview,  however,  between  the  royal  sisters, 
Mary  put  a  ring  on  the  finger  of  Elizabeth,  and  it  has  been  said  that 
the  latter  requested  the  queen  to  give  her  some  treatises  to  peruse  in 
favour  of  the  Roman  Catholic  faith.  Whether  or  not  she  entered  at 
this  time  on  the  study  of  the  questions  at  issue  between  the  two 
churches,  it  appears  that,  this  year,  attended  by  her  former  tutor, 
Roger  Ascham,  she  occupied  herself  with  classical  pursuits. 

Sir  Thomas  Pope,  to  whom  the  princess  was  intrusted  about  this 
time,  was  a  mild  and  indulgent  man.  With  him,  as  her  superin- 
tendent, she  resided  at  different  houses  in  succession,  and  finally 
settled  at  Hatfield,  Herts.  Part  of  his  duty  was  to  take  care  that  mass 
was  performed  in  Elizabeth's  establishment;  and  it  appears  that,  in 
September,  1555,  she  joined  Mary  and  the  court,  in  preparing,  by  a 
fast,  for  a  public  act  of  forgiveness  on  the  part  of  the  pope.  Mary 
even  wrote  to  her  sister  in  terms  of  kindness,  and  declined,  notwith- 
standing the  desire  of  Philip,  who  was  now  abroad,  to  enforce  on  her  a 
marriage  with  the  duke  of  Savoy.  In  the  spring  of  1557,  the  queen 
visited  Elizabeth  at  Hatfield ;  in  the  summer  of  the  same  year,  the  latter 
paid  her  royal  sister  a  visit,  which  was  accompanied  with  much  magni* 
ficence,  at  Richmond ;  and  when,  about  this  time,  Elizabeth  refused 
proposals  to  marry  Eric,  son  of  the  king  of  Sweden^  Mary  expressed 
satisfaction  at  her  conduct. 

On  the  17th  of  November,  1558,  the  queen  died,  and  Elizabeth  was 
called  to  the  English  throne.  On  hearing  of  her  accession,  she  fel! 
upon  her  knees,  and  uttered  these  words  from  the  book  of  Psalms : 
"  A  Domino  factum  est  illud,  et  est  mirabile  oculis  nostris."  On  the 
20th,  she  held  a  privy-council  at  Hatfield,  and  chose  Sir  William  Cecil 
as  her  principal  secretary,  Sir  Thomas  Parry  comptroller  of  the 
household,  and  Sir  Edward  Rogers  captain  of  the  guard.*     Parry  had 

long  been  her  cofferer,  and  Cecil,  afterwards  Lord  Burleigh a  name 

so  eminent  in  the  history  of  her  reign — ^had  corresponded  with  her  in 
the  course  of  her  misfortunes.  On  the  23d,  she  proceeded  towards 
London,  and  from  the  Charterhouse,  where  she  fixed  her  residence, 
went  on  horseback,  amidst  the  shouts  of  her  subjects,  to  the  Tower, 
where  she  fell  on  her  knees,  and  rendered  thanks  to  the  Almighty,  and 

'  Camden* 

PfiRiOB.]  ELIZABETH.  81 

whither,  in  proceddion  from  the  palace  of  Westminster,  she  again  wentt 
on  the  1 2th  of  January,  1559.  Two  da3r8  thereafter,  she  proceeded, 
with  a  large  attendance,  through  London,  leated  in  a  chariot;  and, 
next  day — although  the  prelates  had  refused  to  perform  the  service  of 
the  coronation  for  the  heretical  princess — ^that  ceremony  was  performed 
by  the  bishop  of  Carlisle.  She  was  welcomed  in  the  city  with  great 
public  preparations ;  and,  though  popular  joy  is  no  inMlible  sign  of 
cordial  attachment  to  the  individual  in  whose  cause  it  is  excited,  there 
was  much  in  Elizabeth's  character  that  may  have  inspired  hopes  of  an 
effectual  revival  of  England  from  the  melancholy  condition  into  which, 
under  her  predecessor,  it  had  sunk. 

With  Sir  William  Cecil,  who  was  a  decided  supporter  of  the  reformed 
religion,  the  queen  took  counsel  on  the  subject,  at  the  beginning  of  her 
reign.  Before  her  coronation,  she  gave  directions  for  a  great  part  of 
the  church-service  to  be  read  in  English,  and  also  prohibited,  in  her 
own  chapel — ^to  the  practice  of  which  the  churches  had  been  ordered  to 
conform — the  elevation  of  the  host.  In  the  course  of  her  procession 
through  the  city,  when  an  English  Bible  was  presented  to  her,  she 
pressed  it  to  her  lips  and  bosom,  and  for  that  present  returned  the  city 
especial  thanks.  Her  future  conduct,  as  sovereign,  corresponded  to 
these  early  expressions  of  her  favour  for  the  Protestant  religion ;  but — 
as  is  little  wonderftil,  considering  her  parentage  and  early  life — certain 
preferences  for  particular  Roman  Catholic  observances  appear  to  have 
clung  to  this  patroness  of  the  English  reformation.  She  disliked  the 
marriage  of  priests  and  the  free  exercise  of  preaching,  and  was  fond  of 
altars,  crucifixes,  and  clerical  vestments.  From  early  prejudice,  per- 
haps, or  from  a  wish  to  avoid  unnecessary  opposition  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  party  in  the  state,  notwithstanding  the  generally  favourable 
disposition  of  the  nation  towards  a  revival  of  the  Protestant  articles 
and  worship,  when,  on  the  day  after  the  coronation,  several  courtiers 
besought  that,  besides  the  other  prisoners  released  in  honour  of  the  new 
reign,  the  four  evangelists  and  St  Paul  might  also  be  freed  from  their 
captivity,  she  gravely  answered  that  they  should  be  consulted  in  the  first 
place  whether  or  not  they  were  willing  so  to  be  released. 

Parliament,  which  met  in  this  same  month,  confirmed  the  right  of 
Elizabeth  to  the  crown,  and,  by  a  deputation  from  the  house  of 
commons,  she  was  advised  to  marry.  She  replied,  that  she  had  for- 
merly resisted,  on  that  subject,  the  temptations  both  of  ambition  and  of 
danger,  and  that  she  still  preferred  a  single  to  a  married  life ;  that,  as 
the  recommendation  was  general,  and  did  not  suggest  any  particular 
person  for  her  husband,  she  was  not  ofiended  at  the  interference ;  but 
that  for  the  commons  to  have  proposed  a  person  for  her  to  make  choice 
of,  would  have  been  unbefitting  their  character  as  subjects,  and  hers 
as  an  independent  queen;  that  England  was  her  husband,  and  the 
people  were  her  children.'  This  last  idea,  indeed,  seems  to  have  been  a 
^vourite  one  with  Elizabeth — ^for  she  is  said  to  have  frequently  re- 
marked, that  she  would  not  believe  respecting  her  subjects,  what  parents 
would  not  credit  respecting  their  children.  But  if  she  felt  the  attach- 
ment, she  also  exercised  the  discipline  of  the  parental  character,  and  on 
this  occasion  she  evinced  that  combination  of  regard  to  her  own  pre- 

•  Journal  of  Commons,  54b 
II.  L 

82  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fonsra 

rogative  and  rights,  and  gracious  expressions  towards  her  subjects, 
which  she  displayed  in  the  future  period  of  her  reign.  As  to  her  former 
resistance  to  entering  on  the  married  state,  it  can  scarcely  be  said  to  haye 
been  without  reason  that  she  spoke  of  it  as  she  did.  She  had  declined 
the  hand  of  the  duke  of  Savoy,  and  afterwards  of  Philip  II.,  and  Eric, 
king  of  Sweden.  In  the  same  year  she  entered  on  one  of  those  '  pro« 
gresses '  which  she  occasionally  made,  and  which  gave  her  an  oppor- 
tunity both  of  receiving  entertainment  from  her  nobles,  and  of  affording 
a  gracious  reception  to  her  poorer  subjects.  If  the  representation  given 
on  this  subject  by  Bohun,  one  of  her  eulogists,  be  correct,  the  parental 
character  which  she  claimed  was  in  some  measure  realized  by  the 
sweetness  and  condescension  of  her  manners,  even  though  it  be  granted 
that  political  prudence  was  one  of  the  motives  which  prompted  her 
gracious  behaviour  towards  her  poor  petitioners. 

This  year,  1559,  Elizabeth  sent  assistance  to  the  Protestants  in 
Scotland,  and  afterwards  she  refused  a  passport  of  safety  to  her  cousin 
Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  on  the  return  of  that  princess  to  Scotland,  from 
her  residence  in  France.  There  Mary,  it  seems,  had  assumed  the 
English  arms,  so  as  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  the  English  queen  ;  and 
she  had  also  been  under  the  training  of  her  uncle,  the  duke  of  Guise. 
Against  the  party  headed  by  this  Catholic  house,  Elizabeth  supported 
the  Protestant  followers  of  Conde.  But,  jealous  as  she  appears  to  have 
been  of  the  Roman  Catholics  abroad,  she  declined,  when  the  parliament,  i 
which  met  in  1563,  recommended  her  entering  into  marriage,  so  as  to  I 
fix  the  succession  to  the  throne,  to  give  a  promise  to  that  effect,  or  to  , 
decide  in  favour  either  of  the  supporters  of  Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  or  of 
the  family  of  Suffolk — the  two  rival  aspirants  at  the  succession  to  the  I 
English  crown.  For  her  cousin,  the  queen  of  Scots,  however,  she 
seemed  to  entertain  a  friendly  regard,  and  proposed  to  her  the  hand  i 
of  her  own  favourite,  Robert  Dudley ;  but,  on  Mary  showing  a  dis- 
position to  entertain  the  proposal,  she  discouraged  further  proceedings 
towards  its  consummation.^  On  this  occasion,  Mary  sent  Sir  Robert 
Melville  to  confer  with  the  English  queen,  and  that  envoy  has  recorded, 
in  his  *  Memoirs'  some  amusing  particulars  of  his  visit  to  her  court.  He 
and  Elizabeth  conversed  respecting  the  garbs  of  different  countries,  and 
the  latter  having  appeared  in  a  variety  of  dresses,  she  asked  Melville 
which  of  them  best  became  her.  He  replied,  the  Italian,  thinking  he 
should  thereby  gratify  her,  as,  in  that  dress,  her  hair,  of  which  she 
seemed  to  have  a  high  idea,  was  peculiarly  displayed.  She  even  asked 
him,  whether  he  thought  Mary  or  herself  the  fairer  ?  He  replied,  that 
he  thought  Elizabeth  the  fairest  person  in  England,  and  Mary  the  fairest 
in  Scotland.  Which  of  the  two  was  the  taller  ?  was  another  of  her 
queenly  inquiries ;  and,  on  his  answering,  Mary,  she  suggested  that,  in 
that  case,  her  cousin  was  too  tall,  as  she  herself  was  of  proper  stature. 
The  same  style  of  question  she  extended  to  music  and  dancing.  This 
picture  is  certainly  by  no  means  flattering  to  the  modesty  and  dignity 
of  the  English  queen.  In  articles  of  dress,  Elizabeth,  learned  and 
powerful  as  she  was,  seems  to  have  taken  a  peculiar  pride,  if  we  may 
judge  from  the  magnificence  and  multitude  of  those  which  she  possessed, 
although,  indeed,  Ascham  represents  her  as,  in  youth,  eminent  for  free- 

«  Keith  211—252. 

Period.]  ELIZABETH.  83 

dom  fiom  gaiety  in  dress ;  nor  is  it  a  fact  without  an  amusing  sort  of 
interest,  and  even  perhaps  great  moral  weight,  as  illustrating  the  weak* 
ness  and  inconsistency  of  human  character,  that  a  proclamation  wan 
issued  against  incorrect  likenesses  of  her  nuyesty,  about  the  very  time 
when  we  find  her  retiring  from  the  seat  of  the  plague  to  the  perusal  of 
the  fathers  of  the  church. 

In  1566,  Sir  James  Melville  repeated  his  visit  to  the  English  court, 
in  order  to  announce  the  birth  of  Mary's  son,  Prince  James,  afterwards 
Elizabeth's  successor.  The  queen,  who  had  given  a  ball  at  Greenwich 
on  the  evening  of  the  Scottish  envoy's  arrivsJ,  when  she  heard  of  the 
joyful  event,  treated  it  rather  as  a  gloomy  one,  leaning  her  head  on  her 
arms,  and  bewailing  the  want  in  her  own  case  of  the  good  fortune 
which  had  happened  to  the  queen  of  Scots.  In  September  thereafter 
parliament  met.  Cecil  announced  that  Elizabeth  had  an  intention  to 
marr^' ;  but  while  they  were  proceeding  in  a  debate  respecting  the  suc- 
cession, a  message  from  the  queen  arrived  forbidding  them  to  go  on. 
The  command  drew  from  one  of  the  members  an  inquiiy  as  to  its 
legality,  and  others  expressed' dissatisfaction  with  the  conduct  of  the 
queen  in  regard  to  the  succession.  She  repeated  her  prohibition,  but 
at  last  allowed  the  house  to  proceed.  Yet,  in  closing  the  parliament, 
2d  January,  1567,  she  represented  certain  of  the  members  ba  seemingly 
against  her,  professing,  however,  a  wish  to  fix  the  succession.  **  Whe- 
ther I  live,"  said  her  majesty,  "to  see  the  like  assembly  or  no,  or 
whoever  holds  the  reins  of  government,  let  me  warn  you  to  beware  of 
provoking  your  sovereign's  patience,  so  far  as  you  have  done  mine."  ^ 

But  if  Elizabeth's  circumstances  were  at  this  moment  somewhat 
different  from  what  so  great  a  lover  of  prerogative  desired,  she  was  soon 
called  to  contemplate  the  darker  lot  of  the  queen  of  Scots.  On  the 
death  of  Damley,  Mary's  husband,  in  February,  1567,  Elizabeth  wrote 
to  her,  with  a  view  to  secure  for  Lennox,  the  father  of  the  deceased,  an 
addition  to  the  time  allowed  him  for  preparing  evidence  of  Bothwells 
concern  in  Darnley's  death ;  and  after  the  marriage  of  the  Scottish 
queen  with  that  suspected  man,  and  her  subsequent  confinement  in  the 
castle  of  Lochleven,  she  expressed  both  pity  for  Mary's  misfortunes  and 
displeasure  at  her  conduct — advising  her  to  avoid  revenge  against  her 
enemies,  to  punish  the  murderers  of  Darnley,  and  to  send  her  son  to 
be  educated  in  England.  She  also  expressed  an  intention  to  support 
her  cause,  and  authorised  her  envoy  Throckmorton,  to  caution  the 
associated  lords  against  rebellion.  He  was  also  directed  not  to  take  a 
part  in  the  coronation  of  Prince  James — a  ceremony  which  was  per- 
formed, 29th  July,  1567,  after  Mary  had  signed  her  abdication  at  the 
place  of  her  confinement ;  the  French  government  was  counselled  to 
stop  commercial  intercourse  with  Scotland,  until  Mary  should  be  re- 
stored ;  and  when  the  queen  of  Scots  escaped  from  Lochleven,  Eliza- 
beth offered  her  assistance.  On  the  16th  of  May,  1568,  Mary,  on  the 
defeat  of  her  supporters  at  the  battle  of  Langside,  crossed  to  the  Eng- 
lish shore.^  Lord  Scrope,  and  Sir  Francis  KnoUys,  met  her  at  the 
castle  of  Carlisle,  and  conveyed  to  her  Elizabeth's  condolences,  but  in- 
timated that,  under  the  present  suspicions  of  her  conduct,  she  could  not 
he  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  English  queen.     The  earl  of  MuiTay, 

•D'Ewes  117.— Camden,  1«'7.  *  Keith,  477. 

now  head  of  the  Scottish  reformation,  and  Mary  herself  agreed  to  refer 
the  dispute  between  them  to  Elizabeth.  Mary  drew  back;  but  Eliza- 
beth expostulated,  and  at  last  the  commissioners  of  Mary  met  with 
those  of  the  English  queen.  Mary  declined  to  answer,  cdleging  that 
her  sovereign  rank  withheld  her  from  being  amenable  to  any  tribunal. 
Elizabeth  wrote  her,  and  suggested  to  her  commissioners  that  it  would 
be  an  evidence  of  guilt,  if,  after  the  charges  made  against  her,  she 
failed  to  offer  a  defence.  A  personal  interview  with  Mary,  Elizabeth 
still  refused,  yet  declined  to  acknowledge  that  there  was  a  lawful  king 
or  regency  in  Scotland.  Neither  would  she  agree  to  Mary's  proposal 
to  go  over  to  her  friends  in  France.  In  1569,  she  discovered  a  scheme 
of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  to  marry  her  royal  prisoner,  and  committed  him 
to  the  tower,  from  which,  however,  he  was  soon  released,  and  received 
again  into  favour,  on  his  engaging  to  give  up  the  scheme  of  the  mar- 
riage, but  by  this  time,  an  insurrection  had  occurred,  headed  by  the 
earb  of  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland,  of  which  Mary  herself  had 
gained  information  from  the  leaders.  Elizabeth  sent  an  army  into 
Scotland  on  the  charge  of  the  English  rebels  having  received  protection 
in  that  country,  but  to  Mary  she  continued  to  make  friendly  profes- 
sions, although  similar  terms  appear  to  have  been  allotted  to  the  op- 
posite party.  Norfolk  fkiled  to  ^Ifil  his  engagement,  and  a  new  attempt, 
fostered  by  Rodolphi,  the  bishop  of  Ross,  and  perhaps  the  queen  of 
Scots  herself,  brought  him  to  the  scaffold  on  the  2d  of  June,  1572. 
Elizabeth  twice  revoked  her  signature  to  the  warrant  for  his  death,  but, 
at  length,  acceded  to  a  petition  from  parliament,  that  she  would  authorize 
his  execution.  To  Mary  she  sent  messengers  asking  satisfaction  for 
her  late  conduct  in  the  affair  of  Norfolk.  Mary  psutly  denied,  and 
partly  excused  her  participation  in  the  matter.  The  parliament  were 
incensed  against  the  Scottish  queen,  but  Elizabeth  sent  orders  that 
they  should  not  proceed  in  their  opposition.  Yet  to  these  transactions 
excited  by  the  partisans  of  Mary,  Elizabeth  could  not  be  indifferent, 
and  a  sonnet  on  the  disorders  of  the  time,  attributed  to  Elizabeth,  was 
published,  in  her  own  life-time,  by  Puttenham,  in  his  *  Art  of  Poetry/ 
In  August,  1574,  was  perpetrated  in  France,  under  Charles  IX.,  that 
in&mous  massacre  of  Protestants,  by  which  upwards  of  twenty  thousand 
persons  were  destroyed.  On  this  occasion,  a  French  ambassador, 
Fenelon,  appeared  at  the  English  court,  to  explain  the  conduct  of  the 
king  of  France  in  this  horrible  transaction.  He  was  received  by  the 
courtiers  with  solemn  and  melancholy  silence,  and  Elizabeth  herself, 
though  she  heard  his  explanation  with  apparent  calmness,  declared  that 
she  considered  the  deed  a  guilty  one,  even  though  the  allegation  of  the 
French  government  were  true,  that  the  Hugonots  had  engaged  in  a 
conspiracy.  But,  in  politics,  prudence  may  seem  to  dictate  what  honour 
would  otherwise  forbid ;  and,  in  the  present  case,  Elizabeth  went  far- 
ther towards  preserving  an  alliance  with  the  French  court — which  was 
countenanced  in  its  recent  act  by  the  pope  and  even  by  the  Spanish 
government — ^than,  even  with  the  temptations  to  moderate  conduct  which 
her  situation  presented,  the  generous  hatred  of  injustice  and  perfidy 
may  be  willing  to  excuse.  Although,  indeed,  she  renewed  her  pro- 
testation against  the  massacre,  she  allowed  a  marriage  to  be  negotiated 
between  herself  and  the  duke  of  Alen9on,  the  third  brother  of  the 
French  king,  and  sent  the  earl  of  Worcester  to  assist  at  the  baptism  of 

PitRioD.]  ELIZABETH.  85 

a  child  of  Charles.  Some  time  aHer,  the  duke  of  Aleo9on,  now  become 
duke  of  Anjou,  visited  Elizabeth  at  Greenwich,  but  the  conference 
was  secret.  Burleigh,  and  some  others,  however,  were  authorised  to 
enter  into  terms  on  the  subject  with  the  French  ambassadors,  and  it 
was  agreed  that,  in  six  weeks  alter  the  ratification,  the  royal  parties 
should  be  married.  But,  after  her  usual  manner,  she  vacillated  on  the 
subject.''  She  seems,  however,  to  have  had  a  decided  inclination  to- 
wards the  marriage,  and,  when  the  duke  vbited  her,  in  November, 
1581,  she  is  said  to  have  put  on  his  hand  a  ring  taken  from  her  own. 
But  her  most  approved  counsellors  were  against  the  match,-<-^e  ac- 
complished Sir  Philip  Sidney  sought  by  a  letter  to  dissuade  her, — and 
at  last,  after  much  doubt  and  anxiety,  the  scheme  was  given  up.  A 
puritan,  of  the  name  of  Stubbs,  however,  who  had  published  a  book 
against  the  marriage,  was  condemned  to  lose  his  hand — a  sentence  at 
the  execution  of  which  he  exclaimed,  "  God  save  the  queen  I  " 

Meanwhile  the  queen  of  Scots  was  kept  in  strict  captivity,  and  no 
doubt  the  prudent  mind  of  Elizabeth  might  see  some  reason,  in  the 
foreign  alliances  and  Romish  faith  of  Mary,  to  be  jealous  of  her  return 
to  power.     The  English  queen,  however,  took  some  steps  to  have  Maiy 
associated  with  James  in  the  government  of  Scotland.     In  1584,  she 
was  still  exposed  to  peril,  and  an  association  of  her  subjects  bound 
themselves  to  her  defence, — a  measure  also  adopted,  about  the  same  time, 
by  parliament,  which,  in  that  season  of  danger,  enacted  a  law— executed 
on  future  occasions,  even  to  the  death  of  the  accused — against  Jesuits 
and  popish  priests.     Parliamentary  interference  in  the  internal  affairs 
of  the  church,  however,  Elizabeth  prohibited^  At  this  time  she  objected 
to  the  commons  for  taking  such  a  step,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  session, 
this  ^governess  of  the  church'  levelled  her  arrows  not  only  against 
Catholics,  but  against  Puritans  also — a  party  that  sought  for  greater 
exemption  than  the  church  of  England  sJTorded  from  the  character  of 
the  church  of  Rome,  and  to  which  the  queen  had  a  particular  dislike. 
With  James  she  at  length  entered  into  an  alliance,  and  the  discovery  of 
a  conspiracy  carried  on  by  authority  of  Babington,  which  aimed  at  the 
assassination  of  Elizabeth,  brought  to  the  scaffold  first  fourteen  of  the 
conspirators,  and  then  the  queen  of  Scots  herself.     Mary  denied  that 
she  had  concurred  in  the  plan  of  murdering  the  English  queen  ;  but 
the  evidence  of  her  two  secretaries,  Nare  and  Curie  were  adduced 
against  her,  and — ^whether  or  not  with  sufficient  reason,  it  may  be  diffi- 
cult to  decide — sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  on  Mary,  whose 
ardent  temper  and  long  captivity  were  but  too  much  calculated  to  involve 
her  in  dangerous  attempts.     Elizabeth  professed  great  unwillingness  to 
execute  the  sentence.     She  summoned  a  parliament,  and  by  that  the 
sentence  was  confirmed.     She  still  expressed  herself  as  unwilling  to 
enforce  it,  and  even  on  the  parliament  strongly  renewing  its  former  re* 
commendation,  she  dismissed  the  commissioners  without  a  definite  reply. 
According  to  the  will  of  parliament,  however,  she  issued  a  proclamation 
of  the  sentence.     This  was  met  by  popular  assent.     But  though  the 
sentence  was  thus  supported  at  home,  foreign  powers  besought  Eliza- 
beth not  to  execute  it.     James  also  interfered  in  behalf  of  his  mother. 
The  queen  replied  as  if  it  were  her  purpose  to  assent  to  Mary's  execu- 

^  Camden  365w 

86  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foubth 

tion,  and  her  miDisten  advised  her  to  the  measure.  At  last  she  seemed 
to  be  alarmed  by  reports — artfully  or  honestly  raised — of  danger  from 
abroad,  and  directed  her  secretary,  Davison,  to  prepare  a  warrant  for 
the  execution  of  the  queen  of  Scots^-professing,  however,  that  she 
meant  to  keep  it  beside  her,  to  be  ready  in  case  of  an  attempt  to  release 
her  royal  prisoner.  The  warrant  was  prepared,  and  she  signed  it,  and 
directed  it  to  be  communicated  to  the  chancellor  in  order  to  be  sealed. 
She  then  desired  that  it  might  be  kept  for  some  time,  before  being  so 
disposed  of.  The  order  was  too  late-^the  warrant  had  passed  the  greal 
seal.  On  Davison  telling  the  queen  so,  she  blamed  him  for  precipita- 
tion. He  consulted  her  council  on  the  subject :  they  advised  him  to 
send  the  warrant  to  be  executed,  pledging  his  safety  should  he  do  so. 
Davison  complied,  and,  on  the  8th  of  February,  1587,  the  beautiful 
queen  of  Scots  closed,  by  a  violent  death,  a  long  captivity.^  fUizabeth, 
on  hearing  of  Mary's  execution,  professed  to  be  surprised, — ^her  counte- 
nance changed, — for  a  considerable  time  she  continued  speechless, — and 
at  last  she  broke  out  in  mournful  wailings.  She  put  on  deep  mourning, 
and  expressed  great  displeasure  at  any  of  her  counsellors  who  ap- 
proached her,  accusing  them  of  an  unpardonable  offence.'  To  James 
she  wrote  an  apology,  professing  hatred  of  dissimulation,  and  declaring 
that  she  had  not  assented  to  his  mother's  death,---that,  in  fact,  she  could 
not  write  of  it,  and  left  it  to  a  relative  of  her  own  to  explain  the  matter 
to  the  king ;  and  that  she  had  intended  not  to  execute  against  Mary  the 
righteous  sentence  pronounced  against  her.  Davison  was  imprisoned 
and  fined.  His  relation  of  the  circumstances,  however,  bears  witness 
to  Elizabeth  having  expressed  an  intention  to  authorize  the  execution 
of  the  sentence,  but,  at  the  same  time,  to  a  wish,  on  her  part,  to  throw 
the  execution  of  it  from  herself  upon  others ;  and  he  remarks,  that, 
after  the  death  of  Norfolk,  she  had  cast  blame  on  Lord  Burleigh  in  like 
manner  as,  in  this  case,  she  did  on  himself.  Upon  the  whole,  there  is 
too  much  reason  to  suppose  that  Elizabeth's  conduct,  on  occasion  of 
Mary's  death,  partook  of  hypocrisy ;  although,  indeed,  it  seems  but 
reasonable  to  admit  that,  as  a  relative  of  Mary,  as  having  long  detained 
her  in  a  state  of  confinement,  which  seems  to  have  prompted  her  to 
the  attempts  which  she  made  against  the  English  queen,  and,  as  a 
princess  jealous  of  royal  prerogative,  she  may,  before  she  signed  the 
warrant,  have  been  sincerely  scrupulous,  and,  after  it  was  executed, 
painfully  excited. 

In  the  course  of  these  proceedings,  at  home,  against  the  queen  of 
Scots,  Elizabeth  had  been  opposing  abroad  the  Spanish  power.  In  the 
defence  of  the  Dutch  against  the  authority  of  that  court,  she  had 
assigned  a  chief  conunand  to  her  favourite,  Dudley,  earl  of  Leicester, 
and,  at  the  battle  of  Zutphen,  she  had  lost  a  knight  of  more  honourable 
fame,  the  illustrious  Sir  Philip  Sydney — ^that  *  jewel  of  her  times,'  as 
she  called  him.  Towards  Leicester,  however,  she  had  shown  great 
dissatisfaction,  for  accepting  of  certain  exalted  honours  paid  him  by  the 
United  Provinces ;  and  that  unworthy  favourite,  having  now  incurred 
odium  abroad,  was,  in  1587,  recalled  from  his  command,  though  not 
finally  rejected  from  the  favour  of  the  queen.  Next  year  was  distin- 
guished by  the  discomfiture  of  the  '  Invincible  armada' — ^that  celebrated 

*  Robertaon.-»Camden.  *  Slrype. 

PssiOD.]  ELIZABETH.  67 

fleet  sent  forth  by  Philip  of  Spain,  for  the  invasion  of  England.  It  was 
an  occasion  fitted  to  excite  the  energies  of  a  Protestant  queen.  The  in- 
vasion was  supported  by  a  papal  bull  against  the  heretical  land  and  sove- 
reign of  England.  On  the  result  of  it  the  Protestants  rested  their  hopes 
respecting  ^e  national  religion,  and  the  future  destiny  of  England  was 
at  stake.  The  queen  was  energetic  and  active  in  her  preparations  for 
the  approaching  crisis.  She  appeared  in  person  in  the  camp  at  Tilbury, 
on  horseback,  and  exhorted  the  soldiers,  declaring  that  she  herself 
would  lead  them  to  the  field.  On  the  19th  of  July,  the  armada-— 
which  is  described  as  a  magnificent  spectacle— arrived  in  the  English 
channel.  Between  the  attack  of  English  ships,  and  a  storm  by  which 
the  Spanish  fleet  was  overtaken,  the  enterprise  was  frustrated ;  and 
Elizabeth,  who  had  so  vigorously  prepared  fbr  the  occasion,  proceeded 
in  procession  to  St  Paul's,  to  return  thanks  for  the  defeat.  But  with 
this  memorable  victory  her  opposition  to  Spain  did  not  finally  terminate, 
and,  in  the  parliament  which  met  in  February,  1593,  she  discoursed  of 
the  reiEisons  which  she  had  for  hostility  to  that  country,  adding,  in  re- 
ference to  the  king  of  Spain,  '*  I  am  informed  that  when  he  attempted 
the  last  invasion,  some  upon  the  sea-coast  forsook  their  towns,  fled  up 
higher  into  the  country,  and  leflb  all  naked  and  exposed  to  his  entrance : 
but  I  swear  unto  you,  if  1  knew  those  persons,  or  may  know  of  any 
that  shall  do  so  hereafber,  I  will  make  them  feel  what  it  is  to  be  fearful 
in  so  urgent  a  cause."  In  a  like  imperious  style  she  rebuked  the  com- 
mons, during  the  same  session,  for  interfering  with  the  mode  of  collect- 
ing purveyance  for  her  family,  instead  of  leaving  that  matter  to  her,  as 
mistress  of  her  own  household ;  and  she  also  renewed  her  caution  against 
parliamentary  interference  with  ecclesieistical  affairs. 

If  Elizabeth  used  freedom  in  reproving  parliament,  she  used  similar 
liberty  in  regard  to  individuals  connected  with  her  person.  When  her 
chaplain,  Nowel,  was  preaching  before  her  majesty,  he  expressed  him- 
self somewhat  freely  it  seems,  respecting  the  sign  of  the  cross,  on  which 
the  queen  called  out  from  the  window  of  her  closet,  telling  the  preach- 
er to  *'  retire  from  that  ungodly  digression,  and  return  unto  his  text." 
The  following  letter  to  a  prelate  is  illustrative  at  once  of  a  profane 
phraseology  to  which  she  was  addicted,  and  of  her  peremptory  and  im- 
perious style  : — "  Proud  prelate,  I  understand  you  are  backward  in  com- 
plying with  your  agreement ;  but  I  would  have  you  know,  that  I,  who 
made  you  what  you  are,  can  unmake  you  ;  and  if  you  do  not  forthwith 
fulfil  your  engagement,  by  God,  I  will  immediately  unfrock  you. 
Your's,  as  you  demean  yourself,  Elizabeth."  It  appears  she  even  beat 
her  maids  of  honour.  Nay,  on  one  occasion,  she  inflicted  a  blow  on 
the  earl  of  Essex,  who  had  taken  a  distinguished  part  in  the  Spanish 
war,  and  had  become  a  favourite  of  the  queen.  By  the  rudeness  of 
Elizabeth  on  this  occasion,  the  spirit  of  the  earl  was  mortally  incensed, 
but  he  was  soon  received  again  into  her  favour,  and,  in  1599,  she  sent 
him  to  Ireland  as  lord-lieutenant,  with  a  view  to  the  quelling  of  a  rebellion 
which  had  occurred  in  that  part  of  her  dominions.  But  this  appoint- 
ment— the  expression  of  her  regard^^was  to  prove  the  cause  of  its  with- 
drawel  from  that  rash  though  gallant  nobleman.  On  this  occasion,  he 
chose,  as  master  of  the  horse,  the  earl  of  Southampton,  who,  by  a  pri* 
vate  marriage,  had  displeased  the  queen.  She  rebuked  Elssex  for  the 
appointment.     He  withdrew  it,  but  having  proved  unsuccessful  in  Ire 

laady  and  hearing  that  the  queen  was  offended  at  his  measures, 
he  suddenly  set  out  from  that  country,  and  forthwith  appeared 
in  the  presence  of  his  royal  mistress.  She  received  him  kindly,  but 
almost  immediately  after  began  that  course  of  imprisonment  and  ju- 
dicial investigations  which  terminated— 4iot  without  ground — in  the 
execution  of  the  earl.  During  the  proceedings  the  queen  appears  de- 
cidedly displeased  with  Essex,  although  after  he  had  been  committed 
to  confinement  in  his  own  house,  and  had  been  seized  with  illness,  she 
expressed  sorrow,  and  said  that,  were  it  honourable  so  to  do,  she  would 
visit  him.  For  a  conspiracy  to  seize  on  the  palace,  and  induce  Eliza- 
beth to  change  her  ministers  and  call  a  parliament,  he  was  tried  and 
executed,  25th  February,  1602.*"  But,  in  this  last  transaction  of  his 
melancholy  end,  the  queen  afforded  another  example  of  indecision,  first 
signing  the  warrant,  then  recalling  it,  and  thereafter  repeating  the  same 

Elizabeth  now  entered  into  negotiations  with  the  king  of  France 
respecting  the  balance  of  power  in  Europe.  Rosni,  the  French  am- 
bassador, expressed  a  very  high  opinion  of  her  character,  as  exhibited 
upon  this  occasion ;  and  in  parliament,  which  met  in  October,  an 
agreement  on  the  part  of  the  queen  to  rescind  the  more  oppressive  of 
the  existing  monopolies — the  granting  of  which  she  had  used  as  a  me- 
thod of  rewarding  services — drew  forth,  in  the  house  of  commons,  tor- 
rents of  flattering  compliment,  or  enthusiastic  admiration. 

But  her  years  were  almost  numbered.  Age  had  overtaken  her,  little 
mclined  as  she  seems  to  have  been  to  have  her  *  winding-sheet,'  as  she  ex- 
pressed it,  *  pinned  up  before  her  eyes.*  The  death  of  her  prudent  and 
valuable  counsellor.  Lord  Burleigh,  in  1598,  is  said  to  have  often  drawn 
forth  her  tears.  Leicester  too  was  gone,  and  Essex  had  perished  by  her 
own  permission.  There^  were  many  dark  spots  in  the  escutcheon  of 
her  glory ;  and  from  the  gay  scenes  which  she  had  loved,  and  the  poli- 
tical transactions  wherein  she  had  triumphed,  she  was  soon  to  be  with- 
drawn. **  These  things  will  please  you  less  when  you  feel  creeping- 
time  at  your  gate,*'  said  she,  in  1602,  to  Sir  John  Harrington,  when 
he  read  some  verses  in  her  hearing.  Even  in  that  year  Harrington 
represents  her  as  a  mournful  spectacle.  But  the  dimness  of  evening 
was  soon  exchanged  for  the  gloom  of  a  later  and  darker  hour.  A  deep 
melancholy  settled  on  that  masculine  spirit  which,  through  so  long 
a  reign,  had  ruled  the  destinies  of  England.  To  account  for  this  pain- 
ful visitation,  the  following  anecdote — ^which  later  evidence  appears  to 
have  rendered  very  probable — ^has  been  adduced.  The  queen,  after  the 
return  of  Essex  firom  Cadiz,  gave  him  a  ring  as  a  pledge  of  her  favour, 
should  he  send  it  to  her  in  an  occasion  of  extremity.  On  his  condem- 
nation, he  intrusted  it  to  the  countess  of  Nottingham  to  present  to  his 
royal  mistress.  Her  husband  being  the  enemy  of  Essex,  induced  the 
countess  not  to  convey  it  to  the  queen.  The  countess  became  ill,  and 
conscience-stricken  respecting  her  conduct  in  the  matter,  received  a 
visit  from  Elizabeth,  to  whom  she  explained  the  story  of  the  ring, 
which  the  queen  had  thought  Essex  through  obstinacy  forbore  to  send, 
and  who,  roused  to  passion  by  the  disclosure  of  the  countess,  shook  her 
in  bed,  declaring  "  that  Grod  might  pardon  her,  but  she  never  could ; " 

**  Camdeiu 

Period.]  ELIZABETH.  8S 

and  forthwith  gave  herself  up  to  that  melancholy  which  darkened  the 
closing  days  of  her  brilliant  life.  The  queen  lay  for  more  than  a  week 
on  the  carpet,  leaning  on  cushions.  A  few  words  which  she  uttered 
indicated  the  malady  within.  The  earl  of  Monmouth  says,  "  On  Wed- 
nesday, the  2dd  of  March,  she  grew  speechless.  That  afternoon,  by 
signs,  she  called  for  her  council,  and  by  putting  her  hand  to  her  head 
when  the  king  of  Scots  was  named  to  succeed  her,  they  all  knew  he 
was  the  man  she  desired  should  reign  after  her."  Mr  DTsraeli  has  dis- 
covered a  curious  document  which  he  supposes  to  have  been  drawn  up 
by  Petyt  from  the  information  of  an  eye-witness.  It  is  entitled,  '  Ac- 
count of  the  last  words  of  Queen  Elizabeth  about  her  successor,*  and 
proceeds  thus ; — *^  On  the  Tuesday  before  her  death,  being  the  twenty- 
third  of  March,  the  admiral  being  on  the  right  side  of  her  bed,  the 
lord-keeper  on  the  left,  and  Mr  Secretary  Cecil  (afterwards  earl  of  Sal- 
isbury,) at  the  bed's  feet,  all  standing,  the  lord-admiral  put  her  in  mind 
of  her  speech  concerning  the  succession  had  at  Whitehall,  and  that 
they,  in  the  name  of  all  the  rest  of  her  council,  came  unto  her  to  know 
her  pleasure  who  should  succeed ;  whereupon  she  thus  replied : — *  I 
told  you  my  seat  had  been  the  seat  of  kings,  and  I  will  have  no  rascal 
to  succeed  me.  And  who  should  succeed  me  but  a  king  ? '  The  lords 
not  understanding  this  dark  speech,  and  looking  one  on  the  other ;  at 
length  Mr  Secretary  boldly  asked  her  what  she  meant  by  those  words, 
that  *  no  rascal  should  succeed  her.*  Whereto  she  replied,  that  her  mean- 
ing was,  that  a  king  should  succeed :  *  and  who,*  quoth  she, '  should  that 
be  but  our  cousin  of  Scotland  ?  *  They  asked  her  whether  that  were 
her  absolute  resolution  ?  whereto  she  answered,  *  I  pray  you  trouble 
me  no  more  ;  for  I  will  have  none  but  him.*  With  which  answer  they 
departed.  Notwithstanding,  after  again,  about  four  o'clock  in  the  af- 
ternoon the  next  day,  being  Wednesday,  after  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury and  other  divines  had  been  with  her,  and  left  her  in  a  manner 
speechless,  the  three  lords  aforesaid  repaired  unto  her  again,  asking  her 
if  she  remained  firm  in  her  former  resolution,  and  who  should  succeed 
her  ?  but  not  being  able  to  speak,  was  asked  by  Mr  Secretary  in  this 
sort : — *  We  beseech  your  majesty,  if  you  remain  in  your  former  reso- 
lution, and  that  you  would  have  the  king  of  Scots  to  succeed  you  in 
your  kingdom,  show  some  sign  unto  us  :*  whereat,  suddenly  heaving 
herself  upwards  in  her  bed,  and  putting  her  arms  out  of  bed,  she  held 
her  hands  jointly  over  her  head  in  manner  of  a  crown ;  whence,  as 
they  guessed,  she  signified  that  she  did  not  only  wish  him  the  kingdom 
but  desired  continuance  of  his  estate :  after  which  they  departed,  and 
the  next  morning  she  died.  Immediatly  after  her  death,  all  the  lords, 
as  well  of  the  council  as  other  noblemen  that  were  at  the  court,  came 
from  Richmond  to  Whitehall  by  six  o*clock  in  the  morning,  where 
other  noblemen  that  were  in  London  met  them.  Touching  the  suc- 
cession, after  some  speeches  of  divers  competitions  and  matters  of 
state,  at  length  the  admiral  rehearsed  all  the  aforesaid  promises  which 
the  late  queen  had  spoken  to  liim,  and  to  the  lord-keeper,  and  Mr  Sec- 
retary (Cecil)  with  the  manner  thereof;  which  they  being  asked,  did 
affirm  to  be  true,  upon  their  honour.** 

Elizabeth^s  character  stands  prominently  out  on  the  annals  of  her 
reign.  Early  eminent  for  classical  learning,  she  carried  her  literary 
pursuits  into  maturer  life,  and  Ascham  states  that  he  had  heard  her 

II.  M 

90  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foukii* 

■I  ■  ■  ■    I       »  '  111 

give  fluent  and  appropriate  replies,  in  Italian,  French,  and  Latin,  to 
three  ambassdaors  at  once.  That  she  was  not  munificent  in  her  patron- 
age of  learning,  her  parsimonious  character,  as  well  as  the  poverty  of 
Ascham,  her  tutor,  and  Spencer,  her  poet-laureate,  seem  to  render 
probable ;  but,  that  she  did  patronise  it  is  well  known  to  those  ac- 
quainted with  the  literary  history  of  her  '  golden  days.'  She  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  galaxy  not  only  of  literary  genius,  but  of  political  and 
military  talent ;  yet  she  directly  exercised  a  mighty  personal  influence 
in  the  transactions  of  her  reign.  Proud  and  imperious,  she  seems  to 
have  used  as  a  principle  which  she  would  not.  permit  her  subjects  to 
overlook,  the  sentiment  she  enforced  on  Leicester — '*  I  will  have  here 
but  one  mistress,  and  no  master.**  Influence  seems  to  have  been  a  leading 
object  of  her  measures,  and  power  a  weapon  which  she  could  at  once 
graciously  and  fearlessly  employ.  Thus,  indeed,  it  might  be  possible 
to  explain  that  union  of  great  and  sordid  qualitiels  which  marks  her 
character.  For  it  is  a  great  moral  fact,  that  she  seems  to  have  been 
passionate,  intolerant,  vain,  and  parsimonious,  eminent  as  she  was  in 
intellect,  literary  in  taste,  condescending  in  manners,  protestant  in 
faith,  powerful  in  rule,  and  illustrious  in  fame. 

BORN  A.  D.  1515 ^DIED  A.  D.  1565. 

One  of  the  most  distinguished  ornaments  of  the  16th  century,  was 
Sir  Thomas  Chaloner,  a  gallant  soldier,  an  able  statesman,  and  an  ac- 
complished author.  He  was  born  in  1515,  of  a  good  family  in  Wales, 
and  was  sent  to  Cambridge  at  an  early  age,  but  soon  distinguished 
himself  at  college  by  the  elegance  of  his  Latin  verses.  The  friendship 
of  several  influential  men  introduced  him  to  court,  and  he  was  almost 
immediately  selected  to  attend  Sir  Henry  Knevet,  the  English  ambas- 
sador, into  Germany.  At  the  court  of  Charles  V.,  young  Chaloner 
was  received  with  extraordinary  favour,  and  became  so  much  attached 
to  the  emperor,  that  he  was  early  persuaded  to  accompany  him  in  his 
unfortunate  expedition  against  Algiers.  In  the  great  storm  which 
dashed  in  pieces  the  emperor  s  fleet,  Chaloner  suflered  shipwreck  ;  but 
whilst  struggling  for  his  life  amid  the  waves,  he  fortunately  caught  hold 
of  a  vessel's  cable  by  which  he  was  drawn  upon  deck  with  the  loss  of 
several  of  his  teeth. 

On  his  return  to  England  he  was  made  clerk  of  the  council,  which 
oflice  he  held  during  the  remainder  of  Henry's  reign.  Under  the  pro- 
tectorate, he  attended  the  English  forces  into  Scotland,  and  greatly 
distingubhed  himself  in  the  battle  of  Pinkey,  in  the  presence  of  Som- 
erset, who  conferred  the  honour  of  knighthood  upon  him  on  the  field. 
The  fall  of  his  patron  put  a  stop  to  his  political  advancement,  for  such 
was  his  high  sense  of  honour  that  he  could  not  stoop  to  make  court 
to  the  man  who  had  raised  himself  upon  the  ruins  of  one  to  whom  he 
telt  himself  under  many  obligations.  His  loyalty  to  his  prince,  how- 
ever, and  the  vigilant  and  careful  manner  in  which  he  continued  to 
discharge  his  oflicial  duties,  preserved  him  in  oflice,  and  protected  him 
firom  any  annoyance ;  while  the  friendship  of  such  men  as  Cheke« 

Pbriod.]  lady  CATHERINE  GREY.  91 

Cook,  Smith,  and  Cecil,  combined  with  his  own  literary  tastes  and 
habits,  enabled  him  to  fill  up  his  retirement  in  such  a  way  as  left  him 
little  to  regret  in  the  loss  of  political  honours. 

The  accession  of  Mary  placed  a  man  of  Chaloncr's  open  and  un- 
compromising character  in  considerable  danger ;  for,  while  a  lealous 
Protestant,  he  could  not  stoop  to  any  of  those  artifices  by  which  some 
endeavoured  to  evade  suspicion  and  retain  office;  but  many  of  his 
Catholic  friends  now  remembered  with  gratitude  the  services  which  he 
had  rendered  them  during  the  reign  of  Mary's  predecessor,  and  hast<- 
ened  to  return  his  kindness  by  extending  to  him  their  protection  in  turn. 
On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  Sir  Thomas  appeared  at  court  with  his 
former  lustre,  and  was  soon  afler  sent  as  ambassador  to  Ferdinand  of 
Grermany.  He  acquitted  himself  in  this  important  measure  entirely  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  queen,  who,  on  his  return  from  Ferdinand's 
court,  immediately  despatched  him  on  a  like  embassy  to  Spain.  At  the 
Spanish  court — as  he  had  indeed  anticipated — ^be  was  very  ill  received^ 
and  he  soon  after  petitioned  for  his  recall ;  but  Elizabeth  refused  to 
grant  his  request,  affirming  that  she  had  no  one  else  who  could  supply 
his  place.  Philip's  ministers  tried  to  bully  the  English  envoy,  but  Sir 
Thomas  kept  up  his  spirit,  and  convinced  them  that  neither  he  nor  his 
royal  mistress  were  to  be  trifled  with.  To  relieve  the  ennui  of  his  dis- 
agreeable situation  at  the  court  of  Philip,  he  amused  himself  with  com- 
posing his  treatise  on  '  the  right  ordering  of  the  English  republic ;'  but 
falling  into  bad  health,  he  was  necessitated  to  petition  again  for  his  re* 
call,  which  he  did  by  addressing  his  sovereign  in  an  elegy  after  the 
manner  of  Ovid,  setting  forth  his  earnest  desire  to  revisit  his  native 
country  ere  the  disease  which  now  preyed  upon  him  forced  him  upon 
a  longer  journey.  The  petition  of  the  poet  was  granted,  and  Sir 
Thomas  returned  to  England  with  a  broken  constitution,  in  the  latter 
end  of  the  year  1564.  He  died  on  the  7th  of  October,  next  j^ear,  and 
was  buried  in  St  Paul's,  his  friend.  Sir  William  Cecil,  officiating  as 
chief  mourner. 

Sir  Thomas  was  the  author  of  several  tracts,  besides  his  work  '  Da 
Republica  Anglorum  instauranda,'  which  was  published  at  London,  in 
quarto,  in  1579. 

DIED  A.  D.  1567. 

After  the  death  of  Lady  Jane,  her  sister.  Lady  Catherine,  became 
the  heiress  of  the  house  of  Suffolk,  and,  next  to  the  queen  of  Scots,  the 
first  princess  of  the  blood.     It  will  be  remembered  that  this  lady  had 
been  affianced  to  Loixi  Herbert,  son  of  the  earl  of  Pembro^- "  »*^^i'*- 
same  day  that  Guildford  Dudley  received  her  sister's  ^-^  Pembroke 
been  repudiated  by  that  time-serving  nobleman  as  si^*^®^"  of  extreme 
of  her  family  waned  before  the  ascendancy  of  Man    extricated  himself 
time  Lady  Catherine  remained  in  neglect  and  -  ^^^^"^  y^^  favour  of 
vately  married  to  the  earl  of  Hertford,  the  son.  afterwards  con.pelling 
set,  notwithstanding  the  deadly  feud  which  su'J^  confided   to  4iim  the 
lamiiies.     The  consequences  of  this  union  h  rewarded  his  success  in 

92  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

1560,  when  Lady  Cathenne  declared  herself  to  be  the  lawful  wife  of  the 
earl,  and  was  immediately  committed  to  the  Tower.  Guildford  was  in 
the  meantime  summoned  to  appear  before  certain  commissioners  with 
evidence  of  the  alleged  marriage ;  but  being  at  the  moment  absent  in 
France,  he  found  it  impossible  to  collect  his  evidence  in  time,  and  the 
commissioners  thereupon  pronounced  the  marriage  null,  and  sentenced 
both  parties  to  be  imprisoned  during  the  queen's  pleasure.  Elizabeth 
onquestionably  had  no  right  to  any  such  exercise  of  prerogative  over 
Lady  Catherine,  whose  degree  of  relationship  to  the  queen  was  not  so 
near  as  to  render  her  marriage  without  the  royal  consent  illegal ;  but 
the  spirit  of  the  times  admitted  of  such  violations  of  the  liberty  of  the 
subject,  and  it  was  Elizabeth's  avowed  policy,  whether  sound  or  not,  to 
keep  contending  claims  to  the  crown  suspended  upon  herself  as  long  as 

In  the  warrant  for  her  imprisonment  addressed  to  the  lieutenant  of 
the  Tower,  that  officer  is  commanded  "  to  examine  the  Lady  Catherine 
very  sharply,  hdw  many  hath  been  privy  to  the  love  between  her  and 
the  earl  of  Hertford  from  the  beginning,  and  let  her  certainly  un- 
derstand that  she  shall  have  no  manner  of  favour  except  she  will  show 
I  the  truth,  not  only  what  ladies  or  gentlewomen  of  the  court  were  I 
thereto  privy  but  also  what  lords  and  gentlemen."^  But  Elizabeth's 
indignation  was  destined  to  receive  a  fresh  impulse  from  the  unconquer- 
able attachment  of  the  lovers,  who  contrived  to  elude  the  watchfulness 
of  their  gaolers,  so  that  a  second  pregnancy  was  soon  announced. 
Warren,  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  was  instantly  dismissed,  and  Hert- 
ford was  fined  £15,000  in  the  star-chamber  for  the  threefold  offence  of 
deflowering  a  female  of  the  blood  royal,  of  repeating  that  outrage  after 
sentence  of  nullity,  and  of  breaking  prison.  But  the  public  voice  was 
unanimously  in  favour  of  the  hapless  pair,  and  it  was  loudly  asked  by 
what  right,  or  upon  what  principles  of  law,  human  or  divine,  her 
majesty  presumed  to  keep  asunder  those  whom  God  had  joined  ?  The 
breaking  out  of  the  plague  produced  some  relaxation  of  severity  to  the 
noble  prisoners,  and  Lady  Hertford  was  allowed  to  retire  from  the 
city  to  the  country-seat  of  her  uncle  Lord  John  Grey.  But  the  queen's 
resentment  still  burned  against  the  offenders,  and  in  1565,  both  were 
recommitted  to  the  Tower.  Lady  Hertford  was  kept  in  custody  till  the 
day  of  her  death  in  1567,  and  the  earl  her  husband  suffered  a  farther 
imprisonment  of  three  years.  Lady  Catherine  upon  her  death-bed 
evinced  much  of  the  calmness  and  resignation  which  had  characterized 
the  last  moments  of  her  unfortunate  sister.  She  besought  those  who 
attended  her  to  solicit  Elizabeth's  protection  for  her  three  infant  sons ; 
and  taking  off  her  wedding-ring  desired  it  to  be  sent  to  her  husband. 
She  then  closed  her  eyes  with  her  own  hands,  and  breathed  out  her 
«T)irit  without  a  struggle  or  sigh.     Half  a  century  aifter,  the  validity  of 

S'fall  o'f  iSbT  P'°°°""''^**  ^y  ^  j*"^' 

was  his  hiffh  sensv  .  «    ,  .  . 

to  the  man  who  haa  '  ^"^^*^*«*^  P*P^"- 

Mi  himself  under  ma^ 

ever,  and  the  vigilant  «^ 

discharge  his  official  dutiv 

from  any  annoyance ;  wL 

Pkbiod.]  HERBERT,  EARL  OF  PEMBROKE.  93 

BORN  A.  D.  1507. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1570. 

This  peer  was  the  offspring  of  an  illegitimate  son  of  William  Her- 
bert, earl  of  Pembroke.  Coming  early  to  court  to  push  his  fortune,  he 
became  an  esquire  of  the  body  to  Henry  VIIl.  Like  his  contemporary, 
and  fellow  in  good  fortune,  Paulet,  marquis  of  Winchester,  Herbert 
early  in  life  adopted  the  prudent  maxim,  *^  ortus  sum  ex  salice,  non  ex 
quercu," — a  maxim  which  he  never  once  lost  sight  of  during  his  long 
public  life,  and  to  which  he  certainly  was  indebted  for  his  personal 
immunity  from  the  effects  of  those  stormy  agitations  which  so  often 
prostrated  more  unbending  spirits  around  him.  By  his  supple  com- 
pliance with  Henry's  whims  and  pleasures  he  quickly  ingratiated  himself 
with  that  monarch,  who,  with  his  customary  profusion  towards  his 
&vourites,  made  him  several  enormous  grants  of  abbey-lands  in  some  of 
the  southern  counties.  In  the  year  1544,  we  find  him  holding  the 
king's  license  "  to  retain  thirty  persons  at  his  will  and  pleasure,  over 
and  above  such  persons  as  attended  on  him,  and  to  give  them  his  livery, 
badges,  and  cognisance."  Henry's  marriage  with  Catherine  Parr,  the 
sister  of  Herbert's  wife,  increased  his  influence  and  importance  in  the 

In  the  beginning  of  Edward's  reign  he  obtained  the  appointment  of 
master  of  the  horse  in  consideration  of  his  eminent  services  in  checking 
some  commotions  in  Wales  and  Wiltshire.  Soon  after,  his  services 
against  the  Cornish  rebels  procured  for  him  the  order  of  the  garter  and 
the  presidency  of  the  council  for  Wales.  We  next  find  him  command- 
ing part  of  the  forces  in  Picardy,  and  governor  of  Calais,  for  which  he 
obtained  the  revival  in  his  own  person  of  the  titles  of  Baron  Herbert 
and  earl  of  Pembroke  which  had  become  extinct  by  the  failure  of  legi- 
timate heirs.  The  fall  of  Somerset  and  rise  of  Northumberland  was  of 
course  followed  by  a  suitable  change  in  Pembroke's  views  and  policy. 
And  the  new  protector  deemed  his  alliance  of  sufRcient  consequence  to 
strengthen  it  by  proposing  a  marriage  between  Pembroke's  son,  Lord 
Herbert,  and  his  own  daughter  Lady  Catherine  Grey.  This  connexion, 
however,  neither  blinded  Pembroke  to  the  true  aspect  of  the  times,  nor 
induced  him  to  compromise  his  own  interests  for  one  moment  in  the 
brief  struggle  for  royal  ascendancy  which  followed  on  the  proclamation 
of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  For,  though  he  concurred  in  the  first  measures  of 
the  privy  council  in  behalf  of  Lady  Jane's  title,  he  no  sooner  perceived 
the  exact  position  and  strength  of  parties}  than  he  reversed  his  policy, 
and  from  a  supporter  became  a  fatal  opponent  of  Northumberland's 
measures.  It  was  at  his  house  that  the  lords  assembled  who  first  adopt* 
ed  the  resolution  of  proclaiming  the  Lady  Maiy ;  and  it  was  Pembroke 
who  seconded  Arundel's  proposal  to  that  effect  in  a  speech  of  extreme 
violence.  By  this  act  of  subtle  policy  he  at  once  extricated  himself 
from  the  difficulties  of  his  former  position,  and  secured  the  favour  of 
the  new  queen,  whom  he  farther  propitiated  by  afterwards  couipelling 
his  son  to  repudiate  Lady  Catherine.  Mary  confided  to  4iim  the 
charge  of  suppressing  Wyatt's  rebellion,  and  rewarded  his  success  in 

94  POLITICAL  SERIKS.  [Foubth 

tliat  important  trust  by  appointing  him  her  captain-general  beyond  the 

The  accession  of  Elizabeth  furnished  Pembroke  with  new  occasion  for 
the  exercise  of  his  accommodating  policy,  and  we  find  him  not  only  re- 
taining his  seat  in  the  privy-council,  but  honoured  with  the  special 
favour  and  confidence  of  the  Protestant  queen,  being  appointed  with 
the  marquis  of  Northampton,  the  earl  of  Bedford,  and  Lord  John  Grey, 
the  leading  men  of  the  Protestant  party,  to  assist  at  the  meetings  of 
divines  and  men  of  learning  by  whom  the  religious  establishment  of  the 
country  was  to  be  settled.     He  died  in  1570,  in  the  6dd  year  of  his  age* 

BORN  A.  D.  1507.— DIED  A.  D.  1587. 

Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  the  son  of  Henry  Sadler,  or  Sadleyer,  a 
gentleman  of  small  fortune,  was  born  at  Hackney  in  Middlesex,  in  the 
year  1507.  In  early  life  he  obtained  a  situation  in  the  family  of  Crom- 
well, earl  of  Essex,  through  whose  short-lived  influence  he  was  first 
placed  in  the  way  to  promotion.  Having  filled  some  inferior  appoint- 
ments, he  was  advanced  by  Henry  VIII.  to  a  seat  in  the  privy-council. 
He  was  employed  by  Henry  in  the  great  work  of  dissolving  the  religious 
houses,  and,  acquitting  himself  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  master,  was 
rewarded  with  his  full  share  of  the  spoil.  But  the  most  important  part 
of  his  political  life  was  passed  in  repeated  embassies  to  Scotland,  in  all 
of  which  he  displayed  much  dexterity,  and  won  the  fullest  confidence  of 
his  successive  sovereigns.  Two  large  volumes  of  his  letters  to  the  Eng- 
lish court,  written  during  these  services,  have  been  edited  by  W. 
Clifford,  and  form  a  valuable  contribution  to  our  published  state-papers. 
His  first  embassy  to  Scotland  was  made  in  1537,  and  had  for  its  secret 
object  to  strengthen  the  English  interests  in  the  council  of  regency, 
which  then  governed  the  kingdom.  His  next  mission,  undertaken 
in  1539,  was  intended  to  detach  King  James  from  the  councils  of 
Cardinal  Beaton,  his  chief  minister,  and  to  persuade  him  to  follow  the 
example  of  his  uncle,  Henry,  by  introducing  the  reformed  religion  into 
Scotland.  The  diplomatist  was  bafHed  on  this  occasion ;  but  the  death 
of  James,  and  the  accession  of  his  daughter  Mary,  altered  the  form 
of  English,  policy,  and  Sadler  was  again  despatched  to  Scotland,  in 
1543,  for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  a  marriage  betwixt  Prince  Edward 
and  the  infant  princess;  but  notwithstanding  of  the  zeal  and  ability 
which  Sadler  displayed  on  this  occasion,  he  completely  failed  in  his 
object,  and  was  compelled  precipitately  to  withdraw  himself  from  the 
furious  political  storm  which  his  intrigues  had  occasioned.  In  the  war 
with  Scotland  which  followed,  Sadler,  now  Sir  Ralph,  was  constituted 
military  treasurer;  from  the  protector,  Somerset,  he  also  received  a 
confirmation  of  all  the  church-lands  which  Henry  had  bestowed  on 
him,  with  several  new  grants. 

During  Mary's  reign,  Sadler,  who  was  a  zealous  reformer,  prudently 
withdrew  from  public  life,  and  remained  at  home  in  strictest  privacy. 
But  the  accession  of  Elizabeth  called  him  from  his  retirement;  and 
being  again  sent  into  Scotland,  he  became  the  principal  agent  firom  the 

Period.]  SIB  NICHOLAS  BACON.  9S 

English  court  in  that  coiuitiy»  during  the  extraordinary  foene  of  politii 
and  religious  commotion  which  preceded  the  introduction  of  the  reform 
mation  into  Scotland.  The  letters  written  by  Sadler  at  this  eventful 
period  are  numerous  and  extremely  interesting.  The  unfortunate 
queen  of  Scotland  was  placed  under  Sir  Ralph's  charge  at  Tutbury»  for 
eight  months  towards  the  close  of  her  life.  In  this  odious  service  he 
displayed  a  manlier  and  more  feeling  heart  than  any  of  M aiy's  other 
keepers ;  her  misfortunes  touched  his  sympathy, — he  believed  her  inno- 
cent of  the  offences  laid  to  her  charge ;  and  he  hastened  to  communicate 
the  favourable  opinion  which  he  had  formed  of  her  both  to  Elizabeth 
herself,  and  her  minister  Cecil.  Elizabeth  immediately  removed  Mary 
from  Sadler's  charge,  but  that  she  did  not  cease  to  confide  in  him  is 
evident  from  her  employing  him  shortly  afterwards  in  a  mission  to 
James  VI.  to  dissuade  that  prince  from  going  to  war  with  England  on 
his  mother's  account  Sir  Ralph  made  a  discreditable  marriage,  for  on 
the  9th  of  December,  1554,  an  act  of  parliament  was  passed  to  legiti- 
mate his  children  by  Ellen,  his  wife ;  and  Matthew  Barre,  her  former 
husband,  is  therein  stated  to  be  at  that  time  alive.  He  died  on  the 
30th  of  March,  1587. 

^iv  Xtrj^Qlas  Baron. 

BORN  A.  D.  1510. — DIED  A.  D.  1579. 

Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  lord-keeper  of  the  great  seal  in  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  was  descended  from  an  ancient  and  honourable  family  of 
Suffolk,  and  was  bom,  in  1510,  at  Chislehurst  in  Kent.  At  an  early 
age  he  was  entered  x>f  Corpus  Christi  college,  Cambridge ;  and,  after 
studying  there  some  years,  he  went  to  France,  to  give  the  last  poUsh  to 
his  education.  On  his  return  home  he  fixed  himself  at  Gray's  inn, 
where  he  applied  with  great  assiduity  to  the  study  of  the  law,  and,  in 
the  dSth  year  of  Henry  VIII.,  we  find  him  promoted  to  the  ofiice  of 
attorney  in  the  court  of  wards.  His  patent  to  this  honourable  and 
lucrative  office  was  renewed  in  the  succeeding  brief  reign ;  but  the  ac- 
cession of  Mary  threw  a  transient  cloud  over  his  fortunes.  In  the  very 
dawn  of  Elizabeth's  reign  he  received  the  honour  of  knighthood ;  and, 
on  the  seals  being  taken  from  Archbishop  Heath,  they  were  transferred, 
with  the  title  of  lord-keeper,  to  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  on  the  22d  of 
December,  1558. 

In  the  parliament  which  met  in  January,  1559,  and  in  which,  it  was 
anticipated,  the  queen's  title  to  the  crown,  and  her  marriage,  would 
come  under  discussion,  the  lord-keeper  afforded  his  royal  mistress  the 
most  prudent  and  judicious  advice,  counselling  her  not  to  press  the 
repeal  of  those  acts  of  her  father's  reign,  which  had  declared  his  mar« 
riage  with  her  mother  null,  and  herself  illegitimate ;  but  to  repose  in 
the  maxim  of  law — that  the  crown,  once  worn,  takes  away  all  defects  in 
blood.  He  also  opened  the  parliament  in  the  queen's  presence,  and 
afterwards  headed  the  deputation  from  the  commons  in  the  special 
matter  of  her  majesty's  marriage.  But  the  principal  business  of  the 
session  was  the  settlement  of  the  ecclesiastical  affairs  of  the  nation,  and 
in  this  delicate  and  important  task  Sir  Nicholas  acquitted  himself  with 

96  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

great  prudence  and  moderation.  When,  in  order  to  diswlve  or  nea- 
tralize  the  opposition  to  the  new  measures,  five  bishops  and  three  doc- 
tors, on  the  one  side,  and  eight  reformed  divines  on  the  other,  received 
the  royal  command  to  hold  a  public  disputation  on  certain  controverted 
points,  the  lord-keeper  was  commissioned  to  act  as  moderator,  and 
acquitted  himself  with  perfect  feirness,  although  some  Catholic  writers 
have  attempted  to  fasten  a  charge  of  partiality  upon  him. 

In  1564,  his  favour  with  the  queen  was  somewhat  endangered  by 
the  appearance  of  a  treatise  in  favour  of  the  claims  of  the  Suffolk  line  to 
the  English  crown,  and  against  the  title  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  which 
greatly  excited  Elizabeth's  displeasure,  but  which  the  lord-keeper  was 
suspected  of  secretly  approving  and  circulating.  This  storm,  however^ 
soon  passed  over,  and,  in  1568,  Bacon  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
commission  for  hearing  and  determining  the  differences  between  the 
queen  of  Scots  and  her  rebellious  subjects. 

Sir  Nicholas  died  on  the  20th  of  February,  1579.  Camden  has  thus 
sketched  his  character :  '*  Vir  praepinguis,  ingenio  acerrimo,  singulari  pru- 
denti^  summa  eloquentia,  tenaci  memoria,  et  sacris  conciliis  alterum  colu- 
men ; "  that  is,  **  a  man  of  a  gross  body,  but  most  subtle  wit,  of  singular 
prudence,  of  high  eloquence,  of  a  retentive  memory,  and,  for  judgment,  the 
other  pillar  of  the  state."  His  son's  character  of  him  is  more  striking. 
**  He  was,"  says  the  great  Lord  Bacon,  speaking  of  his  father,  '^  a  plain 
man,  direct  and  constant,  without  all  finesse  and  doubleness,  and  one  that 
was  of  a  mind,  that  a  man,  in  his  private  proceedings  and  estate,  and 
in  the  proceedings  of  state,  should  rest  upon  the  soundness  and  strength 
of  his  own  causes,  and  not  upon  practice  to  circumvent  others,  accord- 
ing to  the  sentence  of  Solomon,  *  vir  prudens  advertit  ad  gressus  snos : 
stultus  autem  divertit  ad  dolorem ; '  insomuch  that  the  bishop  of  Rosse,  a 
subtle  and  observing  man,  said  of  him,  that  he  could  fasten  no  words 
upon  him,  and  that  it  was  impossible  to  come  within  him,  because  he 
offered  no  play ;  and  the  queen-mother  of  France,  a  very  polite  prin- 
cess, said  of  him,  that  he  should  have  been  of  the  council  of  Spain,  be- 
cause he  despised  the  occurrents,  and  rested  upon  the  first  plot."  Sir 
Nicholas  was  an  acute,  and,  what  was  rarer  in  his  days,  a  cautious 
statesman.  His  great  skill  lay  in  balancing  factions, — a  secret  which 
he  probably  imparted  to  his  royal  mistress,  who  proved  no  unapt  pupil 
in  his  hands.  As  lord-keeper,  he  distinguished  himself  by  the  very 
moderate  use  which  he  made  of  his  powers,  and  by  the  respect  which 
he  manifested  on  all  occasions  for  the  common  law.  He  had  not  been 
many  months  in  office,  as  keeper  of  the  great  seal,  before  he  began  to 
entertain  some  doubts  as  to  the  precise  extent  of  his  authority  in  that 
capacity,  owing  perhaps  to  the  very  general  terms  used  upon  the  deli- 
very of  the  great  seals.^  Upon  this  he  applied  to  her  majesty,  from 
whom  he  procured  a  patent,  declaring  him  to  have  as  full  powers  as  if  he 
were  chancellor  of  England.  But  this  did  not  fully  satisfy  him,  and, 
four  years  afterwards,  an  act  of  parliament  was  passed,  which  declares 
that  "  the  common  law  always  was,  the  keeper  of  the  great  seal 
always  had,  as  of  right  belonging  to  his  office,  the  same  authority,  juris- 
diction, execution  of  laws,  and  all  other  customs,  as  the  lord-chancellor 
of  England  lawfully  used."     Bishop  Tanner  has  enrolled  Sir  Nicholas 

'  See  Rymer*s  Foedera,  poMtm. 

Pbbiod.]  .  SIR  THOMAS  GBESHAM.  97 

Bacon  among  the  writers  of  his  country,  on  account  of  numerous  pieces 
of  his,  chiefly  speeches  in  council  and  parliament,  which  are  still  pre« 
served  in  manuscript  collections.  Mr  Masters  also  notices  a  comment 
of  his  on  the  twelve  minor  prophets. 

BORN  A.  D.  1519. — ^DOED  A.  D.  1579. 

Sir  Thomas  Gresham  was  the  younger  son  of  Sir  Richard  Gre- 
sham,  who  died,  February,  1548.  Sir  Richard  was  a  wealthy  merchant* 
— a  man  of  considerable  public  spirit,  which  is  evinced  by  his  succes- 
sively filling  the  offices  of  alderman,  sheriff,  and  lord-mayor  of  the 
city  of  London.  His  brother,  Sir  John  Gresham,  was  also  an  opulent 
merchant,  and  attained  the  same  honours.  He  died  of  a  malignant 
fever  in  1556.  He  was  known  by  many  acts  of  munificence,  but  by 
none  more  splendid  than  the  endowing  of  the  free  school  of  Holt,  in 
Norfolk,  with  the  government  of  which  he  invested  the  fish-mongers' 
company  in  London.  Thomas,  the  subject  of  the  present  sketch,  was 
born  in  London,  1519.  When  young,  he  was  bound  apprentice  to  a 
mercer  there.  He  did  not  long  remain  in  this  situation,  but  was  sent 
to  Caius  college,  Cambridge,  then  called  Gonville  hall,  that  he  might 
receive  an  education  worthy  of  his  fortune.  He  here  made  such  pro- 
gress that  he  acquired  the  name  of  *  Doctissimus  mercator.*  The 
commercial  spirit  within  him,  however,  was  too  strong  for  the  spirit  of 
literature,  and  the  splendid  prospects  which  trade  opened  at  this  period 
uduced  him  to  engage  in  it.  He  was  admitted  member  of  the  mer- 
chants' company  in  1543,  soon  after  which  he  married  Ann,  the 
daughter  of  William  Femely,  Esq.,  of  West  Creting,  Suffolk ;  and 
during  the  remainder  of  his  father's  life,  prosecuted  his  mercantile  pur- 
suits with  distinguished  diligence.  He  was  in  hopes,  at  his  Other's 
death,  of  obtaining  his  situation,  namely,  as  money-agent  for  the  king 
at  Antwerp.  In  this  he  was  disappointed ;  this  disappointment,  how- 
ever, was  the  means  of  a  more  rapid  rise  of  fortune  eventually.  For 
the  successful  candidate  for  the  office,  having,  by  his  mismanagement, 
involved  the  king's  affairs  in  all  but  inextricable  confusion,  Gresham 
was  chosen  to  the  arduous  duty  of  retrieving  them.  This  difficult  task 
he  performed  with  the  most  distinguished  ability.  He  found  the  affairs 
of  his  sovereign  in  a  most  embarrassed  state,  and  the  general  method  of 
transacting  them  such  as  must  perpetually  add  to  those  embarrassments. 
It  appears  that  money  had  been  borrowed  for  the  English  monarch 
at  an  enormous  interest,  and  that,  when  not  taken  up  at  the  specified 
period,  an  extension  of  time  was  to  be  purchased  only  by  several  hu- 
miliating and  embarrassing  conditions.  This  mode  of  transacting  busi- 
ness neither  suited  the  commercial  habits  of  Gresham,  nor  comported, 
as  he  thought,  with  the  dignity  of  the  British  crown.  And  so  effectual 
was  the  system  he  adopted  in  its  stead,  that,  in  the  course  of  two  years, 
he  paid  off  the  whole  of  a  large  loan,  though  shackled  with  a  large  accu- 
mulation of  interest,  and  of  course  raised  ., . .  king's  credit  to  an  unpre- 
cedented height.  His  plan  for  effecting  this  object  was  so  ingenious 
that  we  cannot  allow  it  to  pass  unmentioned.     He  secretly  procured 

II.  N 

98  POLITICAL  SEKIEa  [Foubto 

from  Eagland  a  weekly  sum  of  £1300  or  £1400,  and,  with  this  supply, 
he  took  up  about  £200  sterling  daily,  or  £73,000  a^year.  These  small 
daily  sums,  exciting  no  suspicion,  caused  no  fidi  of  the  exchange.  He 
also  advised  the  king  to  take  into  his  own  hanos  all  the  lead  in  his 
dominions,  and  then,  after  forbidding  its  exportation  for  four  or  five 
years,  dole  it  out  at  Antwerp,  at  the  extravagant  price  to  which  such  a 
monopoly  could  not  fiiil  to  raise  it  So  much  was  Gresham  in  request, 
and  that  too  for  the  management  of  political  as  well  as  pecuniary 
matters,  that  it  is  supposed  that,  during  the  short  reign  of  Edward  VI., 
he  made  not  less  than  forty  journeys  to  Antwerp ;  services  for  which 
that  monarch  gave  him  the  most  flattering  tokens  of  his  regard.  At 
the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  he  was  deprived  of  his  agency, — a  piece 
of  injustice  which  elicited  from  him  a  memorial  of  his  past  services, 
the  statement  of  which  induced  the  queen  to  reinstate  him  in  all  his 
former  employments.  After  Queen  Mary's  death,  he  remauied  in  of- 
fice under  Elizabeth,  who  employed  him  in  several  most  important 
and  difficult  money  transactions  in  this  eventful  reign.  Honour  and 
wealth  now  flowed  in  upon  him  apace.  He  was  knighted,  and  appoint- 
ed general-agent  to  her  majesty  for  foreign  parts.  He  justly  thought 
that  this  elevation  in  rank  and  accession  of  wealth  warranted  his  adop- 
ting a  superior  style  of  living,  and  he  therefore  built  a  magnificent 
mansion  in  Bishopsgate-street,  afterwards  called  Gresham  college.  In 
the  midst  of  all  this  prosperity,  however,  he  was  reminded  how  easily  it 
might  be  marred,  and  how  slight  is  the  tenure  by  which  it  is  held,  by 
the  sudden  death  of  an  only  son,  in  1564,  at  sixteen. 

To  divert  his  mind  and  soothe  his  grief,  this  princely  merchant 
strove  to  foi^et  the  desolation  of  his  own  hearth,  by  turning  his 
thoughts  abroad,  and  devising  schemes  of  public  utility.  Prosperity 
had  not  rendered  him  selfish. 

The  London  merchants,  at  thb  period,  used  to  meet  in  Lombard- 
street,  in  the  open  air,  exposed  to  all  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 
Sir  Thomas's  fe,ther  had  proposed  the  building  of  a  house  or  exchange, 
m  imitation  of  that  of  Antwerp,  but  died  without  doing  any  thing 
towards  the  accomplishment  of  his  object.  His  son  undertook  it  with 
greater  spirit  and  a  better  prospect  of  success.  He  promised  the  citizens 
of  London,  that  if  they  would  provide  a  piece  of  ground,  of  the  ne- 
cessary size,  and  in  a  suitable  situation,  he  would  erect  an  exchange  at 
his  private  expense.  This  munificent  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  and 
eighty  houses  occupying  the  alleys  known  by  the  name  of  Swan-sdley, 
New-alley  and  St  Christopher's  alley,  were  purchased  lor  this  object  for 
the  sum  of  £3,532.  This  was  in  1556.  In  June  he  laid  the  founda- 
tion stone ;  and  in  November  of  1567  the  shell  was  finished  and  the 
roof  slat^ ;  and  the  building  was  completed  in  three  years. 

The  exchange  at  Ajitwerp  was  the  model  of  this  structure ;  in  shape 
k  was  an  oblong ;  it  was  surrounded  by  a  portico  of  marble  pillars, 
under  which  were  shops.  In  1570,  Elizabeth  paid  this  magnificent 
building  a  visit  and  conferred  on  it  the  name  of  the  Royal  exchange : 
the  name  stiU  possessed  by  its  successor.  This  noble  building  was  con- 
sumed in  the  great  fire  of  London.  While  engaged  in  thb  grand  de- 
sign,  all  his  skill  was  required  in  the  transaction  of  certain  important 
money  afiairs  of  her  majesty.  Owing  to  the  quarrel  between  Elizabeth 
and  the  king  of  Spain,  the  Elnglish  merchants  had  been  compelled  to 

Period.]  SIR  THOMAS  GRESHAM.  99 

ship  their  goods  ibr  Hamburgh,  on  which  Duke  AIts^  governor  of  the 
Netherlands,  prohibited  ail  oommerce  with  England.  The  aecretary 
Cecil  was  extremely  fearful  lest  the  queen,  by  the  defalcation  in  the 
revenues  consequent  on  this  interrupted  state  of  commerce,  should  be 
unable  to  pay  her  foreign  creditors.  The  sagacity  of  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham,  however,  helped  him  through  all  his  difficulties.  At  the  same 
time,  to  prevent  in  future  the  queen's  being  placed  in  such  precarious 
circumstances,  he  strongly  advised  that  she  should  borrow  of  her  own 
subjects  in  preference  to  foreigners.  But  when  this  project  was  first 
explained  to  the  merchants,  it  met  with  their  decided  opposition  and 
was  negatived  in  the  common-hall.  Upon  more  mature  consideration, 
however,  and  something  like  a  menace  from  the  privy-council,  they  ac- 
ceded to  the  proposal,  and  had  no  cause  to  repent  it.  This  was  the 
humble  origin  of  those  vast  sums  which  the  merchant-body  have  since 
advanced  to  the  state. 

In  1572,  the  queen  did  Gresham  the  honour  of  appointing  him 
— ^together  with  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  bishop  of  London, 
and  others — assistant  to  the  lord- mayor  in  the  government  of  the  city 
during  her  summer-progress.  About  this  time  Sir  Thomas  added  to 
the  numerous  purchases  he  had  before  made  in  various  parts  of  the 
kingdom,  that  of  Osterly-park,  near  Brentford,  as  a  ready  retreat 
from  the  cares  of  business  and  the  bustle  of  the  city.  Here  he  built 
a  magnificent  residence,  and  laid  out  vast  sums  in  improving  and 
adorning  the  estate ;  at  the  same  time,  never  foigetting  the  useful  in 
the  elegant,  nor  the  character  of  a  prudent  merchant  in  that  of  an 
opulent  citizen,  he  built  several  mills  on  the  river  Brent.  An  amusing 
anecdote  is  told  in  connection  with  his  residence  at  Osterly-park.  It  is 
said  that  Queen  Elizabeth,  when  on  a  visit  to  him  at  tliat  place,  having 
suggested  that  some  alteration  would  be  a  great  improvement,  the 
gallant  merchant  sent  to  London  for  workmen  that  very  night,  and 
by  dawn  of  day,  to  the  unspeakable  surprise  of  the  queen,  the  work 
was  completed.  A  witty  courtier  remarked  on  the  occasion  that  it  was 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  who  had  ''so  soon  built  a  change," 
should  as  ''  easily  change  a  building." 

Our  princely  merchant  now  began  to  entertain  another  magnificent 
project,  namely,  that  of  turning  his  mansion  in  Bishopsgate-street 
into  a  seat  of  learning  and  of  science,  and  endowing  it  for  the  benefit  of 
future  generations.  The  education  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  had  received 
at  Caius  college,  had  freed  him  from  many  of  the  low  and  illiberal  pre- 
judices against  knowledge  and  science  too  oflen  cherished  by  men  of 
business.  He  saw  that  literature  was  by  no  means  incompatible  with 
commercial  shrewdness  and  sagacity,  and  that  the  more  enlarged  a 
man's  views  are,  the  greater  is  his  power  in  whatever  situation  he  may 
be  placed.  The  great  monopolists  of  learning — Oxford  and  Cambridge — 
endeavoured  to  dissuade  him  from  his  design,  but  in  vain;  and  Sir 
Thomas's  mansion  was  henceforth  destined  for  lecturers  and  professors 
of  the  seven  liberal  sciences,  all  of  whom  were  to  be  salaried  from  the 
revenues  of  the  Royal  exchange.  It  was  called  Gresham  college ;  it  is 
now  transformed  into  the  excise  office. 

In  addition  to  these  public  acts  of  munificence,  the  private  charities 
of  our  merchant  were  most  liberal.  His  will  provides  for  the  erection 
and  support  of  eight  alms  houses,  and  £10  yearly  to  several  prisons  and 

100  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

hospitals.  Sir  Thomas  died  raddenlj  in  November  21,  1579,  in  the 
fbll  enjoyment  of  his  prosperitj.  He  was  buried  in  St  Helen's  church 
with  great  pomp  and  with  every  demonstration  of  public  regret.  His 
charact^  is  best  gathered  from  the  tenour  of  his  life.  His  commercial 
abilities  were  unrivalled ;  he  was  a  liberal  patron  of  the  sciences  and 
the  arts;  cautious  and  sagacious,  he  knew  how  to  make  money, — ^muni- 
ficent, hospitable,  generous,  he  knew  how  to  show  it.  He  was  one  of 
the  few  whom  prosperity  cannot  spoil;  the  same  amidst  riches  and 
honours  as  he  had  been  in  humble  circumstances.  He  was  dignified 
without  pride,  magnificent  without  ostentation,  generous  but  not  lavish ; 
he  was  one  of  those  very  rare  men  of  simplicity,  worth,  and  true  practi- 
cal wisdom,  who  know  what  is  due  to  every  situation,  and  can  adapt  their 
conduct  with  a  nice  and  accurate  adjustment  to  all  the  varying  circum- 
stances of  fortune.  A  more  worthy  name  than  that  of  Sir  Thomas 
Gresham  does  not  adorn  the  page  of  English  history. 

BORN  CIRC.  A.  D.  1513. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1571. 

Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton,  the  fourth  son  of  Sir  Greorge 
Throckmorton,  an  officer  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  household,  was  bom 
about  the  year  1513.  While  yet  a  boy  he  became  attached  to  the 
duke  of  Richmond's  suite  in  the  quality  of  page,  and  he  accompanied 
his  master  and  the  earl  of  Surrey  in  their  mission  to  France.  In  1544, 
he  commanded  a  troop  in  the  expedition  against  France,  and  acquitted 
himself  to  Henry's  satisfaction.  On  the  death  of  Henry  he  attached 
himself  to  the  queen-dowager,  which  introduced  him  to  the  princess 
Elizabeth's  notice.  In  1547  he  served  in  the  Scottish  campaign,  and 
greatly  distinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Pinkey.  The  protector 
sent  him  to  London  with  the  news  of  that  victory,  and  soon  after  this 
he  was  knighted,  and  obtained  an  office  in  the  privy  chamber.  He 
appears  to  have  stood  well  with  Edward  VI. ;  but,  having  embraced  the 
protestant  doctrines  in  early  life,  the  accession  of  Mary  threw  a  cloud 
over  his  fortunes,  and  within  a  few  months  afterwards,  he  was  arrested 
and  sent  to  the  Tower,  on  a  charge  of  being  accessary  to  Wyatt's  rebel* 
lion.  Never  did  the  ingratitude  of  Mary  appear  in  darker  colours  than 
in  ordering  the  arrest  of  Sir  Nicholas :  for,  protestant  as  he  was,  he 
had  a  great  veneration  for  legitimacy,  and  was  the  very  first  to  com- 
municate to  Mary  the  plans  of  Northumberland  for  the  proclamation  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey.  In  concert  with  his  brother,  he  despatched  Mary's 
goldsmith  to  Hunsden,  where  that  princess  then  was,  with  the  news  of 
Edward's  death.  She  at  first  hesitated  to  rely  implicitly  upon  the  in- 
telligence, especiallv  on  being  informed  that  it  was  Sir  Nicholas  who 
brought  the  news  from  Greenwich,  remarking,  that  if  Sir  Robert — 
meaning  his  elder  brother,  who  was  a  zealous  papist — ^had  been  here, 
'<  she  would  have  gaged  her  life  upon  the  truth  of  it." 

We  have  already  detailed  the  particulars  of  Wyatt's  insurrection. 
Sir  Nicholas  was  committed  to  the  tower  on  the  20th  of  February, 
1554,  and  on  the  17th  of  April  was  brought  to  trial  at  Guildhall  in 
London.     There  seems  little  doubt  that  he  sympathized  with,  and  evep 

afibrded  direct  encouragement  and  assistance  to  the  insurgents  ^  but  he 
defended  himself  on  his  trial  with  so  much  boldness  and  dexterity  that 
he  was  acquitted  by  the  jury.  He  was  remanded,  however,  to  the 
Tower,  and  remained  in  custody  till  the  18th  of  January,  1555,  when 
he  obtained  his  release  along  with  several  other  state-prisoners,  at  the 
solicitation  of  King  Philip,  who  sought  to  gain  the  &vour  of  his  queen*s 
subjects  by  this  and  other  acts  of  leniency. 

Soon  after  his  discharge,  Throckmorton  went  into  France,  where  he 
became  intimately  acquainted  with  Sir  James  Melvil,  the  confidential 
adviser  of  Mary  of  Scotland,  who  speaks  of  him  as  his  '*  oldest  and 
dearest  friend  by  long  acquaintance,"  and  says,  **  he  was  a  devout 
friend  to  the  queen,  my  mistress,  and  to  her  right  and  title  to  the  suc- 
cession to  the  crown  of  England."  At  the  close  of  the  year  1556, 
Throckmorton  returned  to  England,  and  paid  hb  court,  but  secretly, 
to  the  princess  Elizabeth,  who  reposed  much  confidence  in  him,  and 
employed  him,  on  the  report  of  Mary's  death,  to  ascertain  its  truth— a 
piece  of  service  which  he  faithfully  and  dexterously  performed,  and  for 
which  he  was  rewarded  with  the  office  of  chief  butler,  no  very  lucra- 
tive appointment.  Elizabeth  found  in  him,  however,  a  faithfiil  and  bold 
counsellor.  He  strenuously  opposed  the  retaining  of  several  zealous 
catholics,  who  had  formed  part  of  Mary's  council,  in  their  office  of 
privy  councillors.  The  queen,  irritated  at  the  freedom  with  which 
Throckmorton  expressed  his  sentiments  on  this  point,  is  said  to  have 
exclaimed,  **  God's  death,  villain,  I  will  have  thy  head  I"  To  which 
passionate  threat  he  coolly  replied,  '*  You  will  do  well.  Madam,  to  con- 
sider first  how  long  you  will  then  be  able  to  keep  your  own  on  your 
shoulders."  Elizabeth,  on  reflection,  saw  the  unreasonableness  of  her 
warmth  and  the  force  of  Throckmorton's  observation,  and  not  long  af- 
terwards evinced  her  confidence  in  him  by  despatching  him  as  her  am- 
bassador to  France,  in  1559,  in  which  character  he  remained  at  the 
French  court  till  1563.  His  diplomatic  correspondence  during  this 
period  has  been  published,  and  displays  considerable  tact  and  shrewd- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  ambassador.  Secretary  Cecil  placed  a  high 
value  on  his  services ;  but  a  short  time  before  Throckmorton's  return 
to  England  a  misunderstanding  occurred  betwixt  the  ambassador  and 
secretary,  which  determined  the  former  to  attach  himself  to  the  earl  of 
Leicester's  party. 

In  1565,  he  was  sent  into  Scotland  to  oppose  Mary's  projected  mar- 
riage with  Darnley,  and  encourage  the  earl  of  Murray's  party  in  their 
opposition  to  that  measure.  On  the  imprisonment  of  Mary  at  Loch- 
leven,  in  1567,  he  was  again  sent  into  Scotland  to  negotiate  for  her 
release,  and  Melvil  declares,  that  of  all  the  English  ambassadors, 
Throckmorton  ''dealt  most -honestly  and  plainly,  for  he  shot  at  the 
union  of  the  whole  isle  in  one  monarchy."'  Whatever  his  merits  were 
in  these  services,  they  were  not  adequately  rewarded  in  his  own  appre- 
hension, and  he  assumed  the  air  and  bearing  of  an  ill-used  man  to  such 
a  degree,  that  'weazen-&ced  Throckmorton'  became  a  bye-word  at 
court.  In  1569,  when  the  intrigue  for  a  marriage  between  the  queen 
of  Scots  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk  was  discovered,  Throckmorton  was 

*  See  Criminal  Trials  in  Library  of  Enteriainmg  Knowledge,  vol.  i.  p.  5£». 

"  Memoirs,  p.  80. 


sent  to  the  Tower  on  suspicion  of  being  concerned  in  it.  He  was  soon 
afterwards  discharged ;  but  he  never  regained  Elizabeth's  &your.  His 
disappointments  preyed  deeply  upon  his  spirits,  and^  he  died  within  a 
few  months  after  his  liberation,  in  the  house  of  the  earl  of  Leicester,  oq 
the  12th  of  February,  1571.  Fuller  hints  that  he  was  poisoned  by 
Leicester,  *  no  mean  artist  in  that  &culty ;'  but  the  suspicion  is  no4 
borne  out  by  any  adequate  evidence. 

Clomaus^  SBu&r  of  Xorfolft. 

BOBN  A.  n.  1536. — DIVD  A.  D.  1572. 

Thomas  Howard,  duke  of  Norfolk,  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  earl 
of  Surrey.  He  succeeded  to  the  title  and  estates  of  his  grandfather, 
the  third  duke  of  Norfolk,  in  August,  1554.  After  the  death  of  his 
fiither  he  was  placed  under  the  care  of  his  aunt,  the  duchess  of  Rich- 
mond, who  appointed  Fox,  the  martyrologist,  his  preceptor.  Under 
such  tuition,  the  young  Norfolk  imbibed  the  principles  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  it  is  recorded  to  his  praise,  that  he  never  forgot  what  he 
owed  to  his  venerable  and  pious  preceptor.  On  Elizabeth's  accession^ 
he  was  made  a  privy  councillor,  and  honoured  with  the  garter ;  and  in 
1559,  he  was  appointed  lieutenant-general  of  the  north,  a  situation  of 
peculiar  trust  and  importance  in  these  times.  The  diBceming  Cecil 
thus  expresses  the  opinion  he  had  formed  of  the  duke  in  relation  to 
this  ofEce :  "  Surely,  1  think,  his  grace  will  as  discreetly,  as  honour- 
ably, as  powerfully  execute  the  commission,  as  any  that  hath  gone  be- 
fore him.  One  notable  quality  he  hath  wherein  is  great  commenda- 
tion ;  he  will  do  nothing  almost  of  any  moment  in  his  private  causes, 
but  upon  advice ;  which  property  shall  be  most  convenient  for  this 
charge.''  Cecil  was  at  this  time  secretly  assisting  the  lords  of  the  con- 
gregation against  the  queen-regent  of  Scotland;  and  the  quality  he 
here  praises  in  Norfolk  peculiarly  fitted  the  duke  for  bearing  his  part 
as  lord  of  the  marches  in  the  negotiation  with  the  Scottish  party. 

At  the  time  of  Mary's  flight  into  England,  after  the  battle  of  Lang- 
side,  the  duke  of  Norfolk  was  the  most  powerful  and  popular  nobleman 
in  England.  His  rank  as  premier  peer,  his  relationship  to  the  queen 
and  the  &vour  in  which  he  stood  with  her  majesty,  his  personal  qua- 
lities of  munificence  and  affability,  his  connexion  by  blood  with  some 
of  the  first  catholic  families,  and  the  confidence  which  his  known  prin- 
ciples induced  the  protestant  party  to  repose  in  him,— all  conspired  to 
make  him  the  first  man  in  the  state ;  and  accordingly  he  was  treated 
with  the  highest  deference  by  both  parties. 

It  is  difficult  now  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  scheme  of  a  marriage  be- 
tween the  duke  and  the  queen  of  Scotland.  On  the  appointment  ol 
the  commission  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  and  determining  the  alleged 
matters  of  grievance  betwixt  Mary  and  her  subjects,  Norfolk  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  it.  His  duchess  had  died  during  the  preceding 
year;  and  Mary  had  been  for  some  time  under  the  surveillance  of 
Lady  Scrope,  the  duke's  sister,  at  Bolton.  The  bishop  of  Rosse,  on 
his  examination,  declared  that  the  scheme  had  been  first  suggested  to 
Mary  herself  in  a  communication  from  the  duke^  previously  to  her 


granting  her  final  assent  to  the  commission*  The  confeenoes  at  York 
commenced  on  the  4th  of  October,  1568.  Murray  declares  that  pro* 
posals  were  made  to  him  by  Norfolk  for  the  suppression  of  all  docu* 
ments  which  might  go  to  establish  Mary's  participation  in  the  murdts 
of  Darnley,  and  that  it  was  ui^ed  upon  him,  in  reference  to  this  pointy 
that  any  undue  exposure  of  Mary  might  be  prejudicial  to  her  son's  in- 
terests, on  whom  the  eyes  of  a  considerable  party  were  now  set  as  the 
destined  successor  of  Elizabeth  on  the  throne  of  England.  The  duke» 
on  his  trial,  strenuously  denied  the  truth  of  this  statement,  but  Melvil 
declares  that  the  regent  imparted  to  him  the  substance  of  his  commu- 
nication with  the  duke  the  same  night  Whether  or  not  these  secret 
dealings  were  discovered  or  suspected  by  Elizabeth,  measures  were 
soon  afterwards  adopted  which  removed  Mary  from  the  influence  of 
Norfolk  or  his  agents.  She  herself  was  transferred  from  the  charge  of 
I^ord  Scrope  to  the  custody  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  and  the  seat  of 
the  commission  was  removed  from  York  to  London ;  while  the  duke 
was  despatched  on  military  affairs  to  the  northern  marches.  On 
Norfolk's  return  to  court,  Elizabeth  exhibited  manifest  signs  of  dissatis 
faction  towards  him ;  but  the  duke  introduced  the  subject  of  his  ru- 
moured marriage  with  Mary  himself,  and  affected  to  treat  the  whole  as 
an  idle  and  unfounded  rumour.  In  the  meantime,  Murray  delivered 
up  the  evidences  which  he  possessed  of  Mary's  connexion  with  Both- 
well,  chiefly  consisting  of  those  letters  and  sonnets  whose  genuineness 
has  been  since  disputed  with  so  much  diligence  of  historical  investiga- 
tion and  shrewdness  of  argument.  Soon  after  the  production  of  these 
papers  the  conference  closed,  and  Elizabeth  signified  her  determination 
to  give  no  final  judgment  in  the  matter.  Norfolk  beheld  the  failure  of 
his  scheme,  through  Murray's  breach  of  promise,  with  much  indigna- 
tion ;  and  the  bishop  of  Rosse,  in  his  declaration,  affirms,  that  for  a- 
time  Norfolk  was  privy  to  and  encouraged  a  plan  to  intercept  and  as- 
sassinate the  regent  on  his  return  home. 

Early  in  the  year  1569,  the  proposal  for  the  marriage  of  the  duke 
with  the  queen  of  Scots  was  publicly  entertained  by  a  very  powerful 
party  of  the  English  nobility ;  and  a  letter  was  written  to  Mary  by  the 
earls  of  Leicester,  Arundel,  and  Pembroke,  urging  her  consent  to  the 
measure,  as  calculated  to  secure  the  peace  and  well-being  of  both  king* 
doms,  in  the  event  of  Elizabeth's  death  without  issue.  To  this  com- 
munication Mary  returned  a  favourable  answer ;  and  a  formal  contract 
of  marriage  was  drawn  up  and  signed,  and  deposited  with  Feneion  the 
French  ambassador.  These  arrangements  were  made  unknown  to  Eli- 
zabeth, but  Leicester  engaged  to  take  the  first  favourable  opportunity 
of  breaking  the  matter  to  her.  It  was  not  till  the  month  of  August, 
that  the  first  rumour  of  this  intrigue  was  conveyed  to  Elizabeth  by 
some  of  her  ladies.  Leicester,  shortly  afterwards,  revealed  the  whole 
transaction  to  her,  and  obtained  her  forgiveness  for  the  part  which  he 
had  taken  in  it.  The  first  intimation  which  Elizabeth  gave  the  duke 
of  her  acquaintance  with  his  designs,  was  conveyed  to  him  in  the  sig« 
nificant  hint  from  her  own  lips,  "  to  beware  on  what  pillow  he  rested 
his  head."  The  duke  instantly  took  the  alarm,  and  retired  to  Ken- 
ninghall  in  Norfolk ;  but  a  peremptory  summons  commanded  his  pre- 
sence at  court ;  and  on  the  9th  of  October,  he  was  committed  to  the 
Tower.     Elizabeth  would  have  at  first  precipitated  his  trial ;  but  the 

i        104  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [FoimTH 

• ^ ^ ^___ 

cool  and  cautious  Cecil  succeeded  in  satisfying  her  of  the  impolicy  of 
this.  "  If  the  duke,"  said  he,  "  shall  be  charged  with  the  crime  of 
treason,  and  shall  not  be  thereof  convicted,  he  shall  not  only  save  but 
increase  his  credit.  And  surely,  without  his  facts  may  appear  manifest 
within  the  compass  of  treason  (which  I  cannot  see  how  they  can),  he 
shall  be  acquitted  of  that  charge ;  and  better  it  were  in  the  beginning 
to  foresee  the  matter,  than  to  attempt  it  with  discredit,  and  not  without 
suspicion  of  evil  will  and  malice."  The  want  of  sufficient  evidence  to 
convict  the  duke  of  treason,  and  the  good  offices  of  Cecil,  finally  pro- 
cured the  duke's  liberation  firom  the  Tower,  but  he  soon  afterwards  en- 
gaged himself  in  more  treasonable  practices. 

In  February,  1570,  the  plan  of  an  embassy  to  the  duke  of  Alva,  the 
pope,  and  the  king  of  Spain,  was  suggested  by  the  queen  of  Scots,  and 
communicated  by  the  bishop  of  Rosse  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk.  The 
duke,  it  was  declared  by  Rosse  and  Barber  in  their  examination,  as- 
sented to  the  scheme,  which  was  nothing  less  than  a  proposal  to  form 
an  alliance  with  the  foreign  powers  just  mentioned,  and  the  catholic 
party  of  England,  in  support  of  the  queen  of  Scots.  The  fact  of  a 
secret  correspondence  with  foreign  powers  was  early  discovered,  but 
the  council  were  for  a  time  baffled  in  their  efforts  to  discover  the  trai- 
tors. At  last  the  detection  of  a  letter  in  cipher  from  Hickford,  the 
duke's  secretary,  and  the  subsequent  confessions  and  revelation  of 
Hickford,  and  Barber,  another  confident  of  the  duke's,  led  to  the  arrest 
of  Norfolk  himself.  Abundant  matter  for  a  charge  of  high  treason  was 
soon  collected  against  him,  and  on  the  16th  of  January,  1572,  he  was 
tried  and  pronounced  guilty  by  his  peers.  Elizabeth  manifested  great 
i^luctance,  real  or  feigned,  to  consent  to  his  execution ;  but,  after  four 
months  delay,  the.  fatal  warrant  was  at  last  issued ;  and  on  the.  dd  of 
June,  1572,  the  duke  was  executed  on  Tower^hill.  He  acknowledged 
the  justness  of  his  sentence  upon  the  scaffold,  and  met  his  death  with 
becoming  fortitude.  "  It  is  incredible,"  says  Camden,  "  how  much  the 
people  loved  him ;  whose  good*will  he  had  gained  by  a  munificence 
and  extraordinary  affability  suitable  to  so  great  a  prince.  The  wiser 
sort  of  men  were  variously  affected ;  some  were  terrified  at  the  great- 
ness of  the  danger,  which,  during  his  life,  seemed  to  threaten  the  state 
firom  him  and  his  faction.  Others  were  moved  with  pity  towards  him, 
as  one  very  nobly  descended,  of  an  extraordinary  good  nature,  comely 
personage,  and  manly  presence,  who  might  have  been  both  a  support 
and  ornament  to  his  country,  had  not  the  crafty  wiles  of  the  envious, 
and  his  own  false  hopes,  led  on  with  a  show  of  doing  the  public  ser- 
vice, diverted  him  from  his  first  course  of  life.  They  called  likewise  to 
mind  the  untimely  end  of  his  father,  a  man  of  extraordinary  learning, 
and  famous  in  war,  who  was  beheaded  in  the  same  place  five  and  twen- 
ty years  before."  A  very  accurate  report  of  the  duke's  trial  has  been 
got  up  firom  various  sources  by  the  editor  of  the  •  Criminal  Trials,'  in 

that  most  meritorious  publication,  « The  Library  of  Entertaining  Know, 


Uobttt  SuQUj;,  €avl  of  ^tittsAtr. 

BORN  A.  D.  1532. — ^DIBD  A«  D.  1588. 

This  nobleman  was  the  son  of  John  Dudley,  created  duke  of 
Northumberland  by  Henry  VIII.  He  was  bom  about  1532.  When 
his  father  was  executed  for  high  treason,  in  attempting  to  set  aside 
Mary,  for  the  lady  Jane  Grey,  who  had  married  his  son,  Lord  Guild* 
ford  Dudley,  Robert,  with  the  rest  of  the  family,  suffered  from  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  dominant  party,  and,  being  included  in  an  act  of  at- 
tainder, was  condemned  to  suifer  death.  That  penalty,  however,  was 
not  inflicted;  and,  in  the  year  1558,  an  act  passed  to  reverse  the 
attainder,  and  Robert,  with  his  brother  Ambrose,  was  restored  to  his 
titles  and  possessions.  He  was,  after  thb,  frequently  employed  by 
Mary  in  diplomatic  business. 

Under  the  succeeding  reign  of  Elizabeth,  however,  he  rapidly  ad- 
vanced in  preferment.  That  queen  bestowed  on  him  special  marks  of 
&vour,  first  appointing  him  master  of  the  horse;  and,  soon  after, 
causing  him — ^to  the  surprise  of  the  public — ^to  be  instaUed  knight  of  the 
garter.  Scandalous  reports  were  whispered  and  believed  at  home :  in 
foreign  courts  it  was  openly  said  that  they  lived  together  in  adulterous 
intercourse.  Dudley  had  married  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  Sir  John 
Robesart,  but  that  lady  was  not  permitted  to  appear  at  court:  her 
lord  allotted  for  her  residence  a  lonely  mansion  called  Cumnor,  in 
Berkshire,  where  she  suddenly  died  by  an  accidental  fall,  but  under 
such  suspicious  circumstances,  as  to  impress  the  public  with  the  beliet 
that  she  had  been  murdered.  It  was  believed,  indeed,  that  the  queen  had 
solemnly  pledged  her  word  to  Dudley  that  she  would  become  his  wife, 
and  a  lady  of  the  bed-chamber  was  named  as  witness  to  the  contract. 
From  opposition  to  this  measure  arising  from  the  queen's  ministers,  and 
the  scandalous  reports  spread  abroad  on  the  continent,  it  appears  the 
marriage  was  postponed ;  but  several  years  elapsed  before  the  design 
was  entirely  abandoned.  Meanwhile,  Dudley  was  the  supreme  fevourite 
at  court:  he  was  called  only  'My  lord'  without  any  addition;  all 
affairs  were  imparted  through  him  ;  ambassadors  gave  account  to  him 
of  their  negotiations  ;  every  one  plied  his  suit  through  him,  for  no  other 
medium  would  be  attended  with  success.  Dudley,  thus  possessed  of 
sole  influence  with  the  queen,  was  naturally  an  object  of  jealousy  and 
hatred.  To  remove  him  ftt)m  court,  Cecil,  it  is  said,  recommended  to 
the  queen  to  propose  him  as  the  husband  of  her  cousin,  the  queen  of 
Scots.  To  this  proposal  she  acceded,  without  however  expecting  that 
it  would  be  accepted,  or  even  wishing  for  it.  To  raise  her  favourite  to 
a  rank  equal  to  his  pretensions,  she  created  him  Earl  of  Leicester. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  at  Westminster,  in  1564,  with  great  so- 
lemnity ;  the  queen  herself  assisting,  and  Dudley  sitting  on  his  knees 
before  her  with  great  gravity,  while  she  bestowed  on  him  some  familiar 
token  of  her  favour.  The  Scottish  queen,  however,  having  rejected 
the  earl  of  Leicester  and  decided  in  favour  of  Lord  Damley,  there  was 
some  strong  expectation  raised  that  Elizabeth  would  take  Leicester  for 
herself,  as  she  had  told  Sir  James  Melvil,  that  ''  she  esteemed  him  as 
her  brother  and  best  friend ;  whom  she  herself  would  have  marriedi 

II.  0 

106  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foukth 

had  she  ever  minded  to  have  taken  a  husband.**     But  by  the  persuasion 
of  a  party  inimical  to  Leicester,  Elizabeth  was  brought  to  think  seriously 
of  a  foreign  husband,  and  occasionally  to  dispute  the  ascendency  which 
Leicester  assumed  over  her.     She  gave  him  hints  of  her  displeasure  in 
enigmatic  notes:  while  he  thought  proper  to  absent  himself  from  court, 
but  whether  in  a  fit  of  jealousy  or  by  royal  mandate  does  not  appear. 
These  occasional  quarrels,  however,  only  served,  upon  reconciliation,  to 
confirm  his  influence.     Publicly  he  afiecteU  to  advocate  the  project  of  a 
foreign  alliance,  but  privately  he  threw  every  obstade  in  its  way ;  and 
if  be  did  not  ultimately  obtain  the  queen  for  himself,  he  succeeded  at 
least,  in  extinguishing  the  hopes  of  every  otlier  suitor,  whether  native 
or  foreigner.     The  archduke  Charles  of  Austria,  having  renewed  his 
suit  to  the  queen,  and  being  favoured  by  the  earl  of  Sussex  and  hia 
party,  the  queen  was  brought  into  her  ususd  state  of  indecision,  and  mean- 
while the  irritation  of  the  two  noblemen  against  each  other  was  such, 
that  they  went  constantly  armed,  and  were  attended  by  armed  men. 
The  negotiation   was  protracted  upwards  of  two  years.      Sometimes 
Sussex,  sometimes  Leicester  prevailed.     Sussex,  however,  having  been 
despatched  to  Maximilian,  the  father  of  the  arch-duke,  as  ambassador 
from  Elizabeth,  in  his  absence  Leicester  ruled  without  control,  and  the 
hopes  of  the  arch-duke  were  entirely  quashed  by  the  peremptory  re- 
quirement that  in  the  event  of  his  union  with  the  queen,  he  must 
wholly  relinquish  the  Catholic  form  of  worship.     Leicester  continued 
thus  established  in  the  royal  favour,  and  was  principal  in  all  the  great 
affairs  of  state.     In  1572,  he  was  privately  married  to  the  lady  Dou- 
glas, whom  he  never  acknowledged  as  his  wife,  nor  the  son  which  she 
bare  him  as  legitimate.     On  the  death  of  the  earl  of  Essex,  in  Ireland 
— not  without  suspicion  of  having  been  poisoned  through  the  interven- 
tion of  Leicester — the  latter  proposed  to  Lady  Douglas,  his  wife,  arti- 
cles of  separation :  upon  her  refusal  he  is  said  to  have  had  recourse  to 
the  same  diabolical  means  of  administering  poison  to  her  also,  that 
there   might  be  no  obstacle  to  his  union  with  the  widow  of  Essex. 
I'hey  were  privately  married  in  1576,  unknown  to  the  queen.     Simier, 
the  representative  of  the  duke  of  Anjou,  who  had  renewed  his  suit  to 
the  queen,  persuaded  Elizabeth  that  it  was  beneath  her  dignity  to  take 
for  her  husband  Leicester,  a  man  who  owed  whatever  he  possessed  to 
her  bounty ;  and  added  the  important  information,  that  her  favourite 
had  recently  married,  without  her  knowledge,  the  widow  of  the  late 
earl  of  Essex.     Leicester  let  fall  some  hints  of  vengeance ;  but  the  irri- 
tated queen  ordered  him  to  be  confined  at  Greenwich,  and  would  have 
sejit  him  to  the  Tower,  but  for  the  interposition  of  the  earl  of  Sussex  ;— 
at  the  same  time  severely  prohibiting  any  kind  of  insult  to  the  French 

Leicester  at  first  united  with  Sussex,  Burleigh,  and  Hunsdon,  in 
drging  the  marriage  of  the  queen,  but  afterwards  opposed  it  on  the 
ground  of  the  duke*s  religion,  and  the  improbability  of  an  heir  to  the 
throne — ^the  queen  being  in  her  forty-ninth  year.  The  duke,  however, 
pressed  his  suit,  and  Leicester,  with  others,  was  commanded  to  sub- 
scribe a  written  paper,  regulating  the  rites  to  be  observed,  and  the 
form  of  contract  to  be  pronounced,  by  both  parties  at  the  celebration 
of  the  marriage.  But  though  Leicester,  with  Walsingham  and  Hatton, 
at  the  royal  command,  had  affixed  his  signature  to  the  paper,  he  had 



with  them  previously  arranged  a  new  plan  of  opposition.  After  every 
thing  had  been  settled  respecting  the  marriage,  Elizabeth  was  so  as- 
sailed by  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  her  female  attendants,  who  had 
received  their  lesson  firom  Leicester  and  the  others,  that  she  finally 
broke  off  the  match ;  and  the  duke,  returning  from  her  presence  to  his 
apartment,  pensive  and  irritated,  threw  away  the  ring  which  his  sup- 
posed bride  had  placed  on  his  finger  in  token  of  her  intentions,  ex- 
ckuming,  that  the  women  of  England  were  as  changeable  and  capri- 
cious as  the  waves  which  encircled  their  island.  The  duke  was,  however, 
admitted  afterward  to  the  most  ^miliar  intimacy,  and,  on  hi^  departure, 
the  queen  ordered  the  earl  of  Leicester,  with  six  lords  and  a  numeroui 
train  of  gentiemen,  to  accompany  him  as  &r  as  the  city  of  Brussels. 
Leicester  thus  resumed  his  ascendancy  over  the  queen,  and  continued 
at  the  head  of  afiairs,  and  was  particularly  active  in  promoting  the 
overture  of  the  Belgian  provinces  to  Elizabeth,  to  become  their  sove- 
reign, and  protect  them  in  the  profession  of  the  reformed  religion 
against  the  king  of  Spain.  The  queen  yielded  so  far  as  to  enter  into 
a  treaty  of  alliance  with  the  Belgians,  but  the  disgrace  of  aiding  rebds 
who  pretended  to  depose  their  lawful  sovereign,  haunted  her  minds 
and  she  strictly  forbade  Leicester,  the  commander  of  her  forces,  to  en- 
gage in  any  enterprise,  or  to  accept  of  any  honour,  which  could  be 
construed  into  an  admission  that  Philip  had  lost  the  sovereignty  of  the 
provinces.  But  the  views  of  the  ^vourite  were  very  different  from  those 
of  his  mistress.  His  ambition  aspired  to  the  place  which  had  been  pos- 
sessed and  forfeited  by  the  duke  of  Anjou;  and  on  his  arrival  in  Holland, 
in  December,  1585^  he  asked,  and,  after  some  demur,  obtained  from  the 
gratitude  of  the  states  the  title  of  '  Excellency,'  the  office  of  captain- 
general  of  the  united  provinces,  and  the  whole  control  of  the  army,  the 
finances,  and  the  courts  of  judicature.  He  was  attended  by  a  splendid 
retinue  of  English  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  and  wanted  nothing  but 
the  name  to  constitute  him  a  king. 

When  the  news  of  these  proceedings  reached  the  queen,  she  mani- 
fested her  displeasure  in  no  measured  terms.  She  charged  Leicester 
with  presumption  and  vanity,  with  contempt  of  the  royal  authority, 
with  having  sacrificed  the  honour  of  his  sovereign  to  his  own  ambition ; 
but  when  she  was  told  that  he  had  sent  for  his  countess  and  was  prepar- 
ing to  hold  a  court  which  in  splendour  should  eclipse  her  own,  she 
burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  swearing  with  great  oaths,  that  she 
**  would  have  no  more  courts  under  her  obeysance  than  one,  and  that 
she  would  let  the  upstart  know  how  easily  the  hand  which  had  raised 
him  could  also  beat  him  to  the  ground."  Leicester,  however,  smiled 
at  these  threats  and  spent  his  time  in  progresses  from  one  city  to 
another :  every  where  he  gave  and  received  the  most  sumptuous  enter- 
tainments, and,  on  all  occasions,  displayed  the  magnificence  of  a  sove- 
reign prince.  After  the  violence  of  the  queen's  paroxysm  was  over, 
she  was  persuaded  by  Lord  Burleigh,  to  send  her  captain-general  sup- 
plies for  a  campaign  against  the  Spaniards.  But  Leicester  proved  no 
match  for  Famese,  the  prince  of  Parma :  the  campaign  proved  unsuc- 
cessful ;  the  states  quarrelled  with  the  earl,  and  he  hastily  returned  to 
England  at  the  command  of  the  queen  to  assist  her  in  the  important 
affair  of  the  queen  of  Scots.  On  his  return,  the  earl  instantly  regained 
his  influence  with  the  queen,  and,  instead  of  punishment,  met  with 

108  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fouktb 

reward,  being  installed  lord-steward  of  the  household,  and  chief  justice 
In  Eyre  south  of  the  Trent 

During  the  absence  of  Leicester  from  Belgium,  a  party  had  been 
formed  against  him,  and  the  States  proceeded  to  the  appointment  of 
another  head,  in  the  person  of  Maurice,  son  of  the  late  prince  of  Orange. 
Leicester,  however,  speedily  found  means  to  annul  tFiis  proceeding  by 
the  influence  which  he  had  gained  in  the  Netherlands  over  the  reformed 
clergy.  He  had  frequented  their  worship, — ^prayed,  &sted,  and  received 
the  sacrament  with  them, — and,  on  every  occasion,  had  avowed  a  deter- 
mination to  extirpate  popery,  and  to  establish  the  gospel.  Elizabeth 
felt  the  affront  offered  to  her  favourite  as  offered  to  herself,  and  the 
Lord  Buckhurst  was  despatched  to  signify  her  displeasure.  By  his 
exertions  matters  were  accommodated,  and  the  fury  of  the  people  waa 
appeased  by  a  promise  that  Leicester  should  immediately  return. 

The  queen,  however,  not  wishing  to  protract  the  war  with  Spain, 
would  have  preferred  that  Leicester  should  remain  at  home,  and  that 
the  contest  should  gradually  subside.  The  earl,  on  the  contrary,  with 
bis  friends  in  the  council,  urged  the  continuation  of  the  war.  The 
conduct  of  Admiral  Drake  towards  the  Spaniards  having  provoked  still 
greater  hostilities,  the  States  pressed  the  queen  most'  urgently  for  the 
ftilfilment  of  her  promise,  and  at  length  Leicester  took  his  departure 
for  Holland,  with  a  large  sum  of  money,  and  a  reinforcement  of  5000 
men.  A  misunderstanding,  however,  soon  arose  between  the  earl  and 
the  States,  who  accused  the  queen,  his  mistress,  with  avarice,  in  wish- 
ing to  sell  them  to  the  king  of  Spain  for  a  stipulated  sum  sufficient  to 
defray  the  past  expenses  of  the  war.  This  charge,  though  unfounded 
and  improbable,  was  circulated  through  the  country,  and  the  earl,  from 
having  been  the  idol,  became,  in  a  few  days,  the  execration  of  the 
people.  Mutual  recriminations  ensued,  and  the  quarrel  went  such  a 
length  that  Leicester  lost  ground  with  the  queen.  She  believed  that 
he  had  neglected  her  instructions,  and  sought  chiefly  his  own  aggran- 
dizement ;  and  when  Farnese  complained  Uiat  the  queen  had  no  real 
desire  for  peace,  she  laid  the  blame,  first  on  the  negligence,  and  then 
on  the  ambition  of  Leicester.  He  was,  therefore,  recalled ;  and,  on 
his  arrival,  aware  of  his  danger,  threw  himself  at  her  feet,  and  con- 
jured her  to  have  pity  on  her  former  favourite.  **  She  had  sent  him  to 
the  Netherlands  with  honour, — would  she  receive  him  back  in  disgrace  ? 
She  had  raised  him  from  the  dust, — ^would  she  now  bury  him  alive  ?" 
The  appeal  moved  the  heart  of  the  queen,  and  Leicester  was  prepared 
for  the  summons  on  the  following  morning  to  appear  before  the  counciL 
There,  instead  of  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  he  took  his  accus- 
tomed seat ;  and,  when  the  secretary  began  to  read  the  charges  which 
had  been  prepared,  he  arose,  inveighed  against  the  baseness  and  per- 
fidy of  his  calumniators,  and  appealed  from  the  prejudices  of  his  equals 
to  the  equity  of  his  sovereign.  The  members  gazed  on  each  other ; 
the  secretary  passed  to  the  ordinary  business  of  the  day,  and  the  Lord 
Buckhurst,  the  accuser,  was  ordered  to  consider  himself  a  prisoner  in 
his  own  house. 

Thus  restored  to  his  place  in  the  affections  of  the  queen  and  the 
councils  of  the  nation,  when  the  Spanish  armada  threatened  England, 
the  earl  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  an  army  for  the  protection 
of  the  capital.     These  forces  lay  at  Tilbury  on  the  Thames,  and  the 

Pkriod.]  sir  HUMPHREY  GILBERT.  109 

queen  talked  of  appearing  at  their  head,  and  animating  them  in  battle 
by  her  presence.  To  this  proposal  Leicester  objecte^  **  As  for  youi 
(>erson/'  he  wrote  to  her,  **  being  the  most  dainty  ana  sacred  thing  we 
have  in  this  world  to  care  for,  I  cannot,  most  dear  queen,  consent  that 
you  should  expose  it  to  danger ;  for  upon  your  well-doing  consists  all 
the  safety  of  your  whole  kingdom ;  and,  therefore,  preserve  that  above 
all.  Yet  will  I  not,  that  in  some  sort  so  princely  and  rare  a  magnan- 
imity should  not  appear  to  your  people  and  to  the  world  as  it  is."  He 
then  recommends*  her  merely  to  visit  the  camp  and  fort  for  a  few  days. 
With  this  advice  she  complied ;  and  Leicester  now  appeared  in  her  view 
without  a  rivaL  To  reward  his  transcendant  merit,  a  new  and  unpre- 
cedented office  was  created,  which  would  have  conferred  on  him  an 
authority  almost  equal  to  that  of  his  sovereign.  He  was  appointed 
lord-lieutenant  of  England  and  Ireland.  The  warrant  was  prepared 
for  the  royal  signature,  when  the  unexpected  death  of  the  favourite  put 
an  end  to  all  such  distinctions.  On  the  queen's  departure  from  Til- 
bury, Leicester  had  disbanded  the  army,  and  set  out  for  his  castle  at 
Kenilworth ;  bnt  at  Combury-park  in  Oxfordshire,  his  progress  was 
arrested  by  a  violent  disease,  which,  whether  it  arose  from  natural 
causes,  or  the  anguish  of  disappointed  ambition,  (Burleigh  and  Hat- 
ton  having  remonstrated  with  the  queen  on  the  subject  of  the  earl's 
promotion^)  or  from  poison  administered  by  his  wife  and  her  supposed 
paramour,  speedily  terminated  his  life,  September  4tb,  1588.  The 
queen  shed  many  tears  for  the  loss  of  her  favourite,  but  at  the  same 
time  took  care  of  her  exchequer,  by  ordering  the  public  sale .  of  his 
goods  for  the  payment  of  certain  sums  which  he  owed  to  the  revenue. 

Leicester  possessed  in  his  youth  those  personal  attractions  which,  in 
the  court  of  Elizabeth,  were  essential  to  prosperity.  By  the  spirit  of 
his  conversation,  the  warmth  of  his  flattery,  and  the  expense  of  his 
entertainments,  he  maintained  his  ascendancy  over  the  queen  for  the 
long  period  of  thirty  years.  As  a  statesman  or  commander,  he  dis- 
played but  little  ability.  His  rapacity  and  ambition  were  unbounded. 
His  sanction  of  the  reformed  religion  and  the  style  of  his  correspond- 
ence, would  lead  us  to  think  he  was  a  man  of  superior  piety,  but  the 
course  of  his  life  seems  entirely  to  contradict  such  a  character.  In  the 
year  1584,  the  history  of  his  life  was  published  in  a  tract,  which  was 
known  by  the  name  of  '  Leicester's  Commonwealth.'  This  book  con- 
tained so  much  to  the  prejudice  of  the  earl,  that  his  nephew.  Sir  Philip 
Sydney,  undertook  to  answer  it ;  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  dis- 
proved its  most  important  statements.  The  work  was  attributed  to 
Persons,  the  Jesuit* 

BORN  A.  D.  1539. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1583. 

Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert,  a  uterine  brother  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
and,  like  him,  one  of  the  many  enterprising  men  who  adorned  the 
age  of  Elizabeth,  was  bom  in  1539,  of  an  ancient  Devonshire  family. 
His  mother,  when  she  became  a  widow,  married  Mr  Raleigh ;  of  this 
njiarriage.  Sir  Walter  was  the  offspring.     Humphrey,  though  a  second 

110  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

£OD,  inherited  considerable  fortunes.  After  going  through  the  usual 
oourse  of  studies  at  Eton,  he  went  to  Oxford  ;  but  as  he  is  not  men- 
tioned in  Wood's  '  Athenae  Oxonienses,'  it  is  not  prdbable  that  he  re- 
mained there  long.  As  he  was  intended  for  the  law,  he  was  to  finish 
his  studies  at  the  Temple.  Humphrey,  however,  was  by  nature  much 
more  fit  for  a  life  of  enterprize  than  of  8tudy,--*for  the  court  or  the 
^  camp,  rather  than  the  cloister  or  the  bar.  When  quite  young,  his 
aunt,  Mrs  Catherine  Astley,  who  was  in  the  queen's  service,  intro- 
duced him  at  court  There,  in  the  presence  of  the  maiden  queen,  he 
imbibed  all  those  chivalrous  feelings,  that  devoted  loyalty,  and  that  love 
of  enterprize  and  distinction,  which  characterisedsomany  of  the  gallant 
courtiers  of  that  age.  He  immediately  embraced  a  soldier's  life ;  and 
having  distinguished  himself  in  several  expeditions,  particularly  in  that 
to  Havre  in  1563,  he  was  sent  to  Ireland  to  suppress  a  rebellion,  oi 
which  James  Fitzmorris  was  the  principal  instigator.  For  his  important 
services  on  this  occasion,  he  was  raised  to  the  chief  command  in  the 
county  of  Munster.  He,  at  the  same  time,  received  the  honour  of 
knighthood  at  the  hands  of  Sir  H.  Sydney,  in  January,  1570.  Prince 
tells  us  that  it  was  conferred  by  Queen  Elizabeth  in  1577  ;  but  this  is 
a  mistake.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
marry  an  heiress.  In  1571,  he  was  chosen  member  of  parliament  for 
Plymouth.  His  conduct  on  this  occasion  was  more  loyal  than  popular. 
He  excited  the  indignant  reproofs  of  Mr  Wentworth  for  maintaining 
the  propriety  of  curbing  that  boldness  of  speech,  which,  as  he  pre- 
tended, was  fraught  with  danger  at  once  to  the  '*  liberty  of  the  subject 
and  to  the  queen's  prerc^ative."  At  that  period,  the  *  liberty  of  the 
subject'  was  put  in  little  peril  from  such  a  cause,  however  ominously 
it  might  look  for  the  royal  prerogative.  Mr  Wentworth  was  almost  the 
only  man  of  his  age  who  dared  to  speak  like  a  firee  man,  and  no  won- 
der that  his  plainness  of  speech  offended  the  ears  of  the  refined  and 
loyal  courtier. 

In  1572,  Sir  Humphrey  sailed  with  some  forces  to  the  aid  of  Colonel 
Morgan  in  Flanders.  His  enterprizing  genius,  stimulated  by  travel 
and  adventure,  now  dwelt  with  enthusiasm  on  those  various  schemes  for 
improving  navigation  and  extending  discovery  and  commerce,  which 
formed  the  day-dreams  of  so  many  adventurous  spirits  of  the  age,  but 
which,  though  they  oflen  ended  in  nothing  but  disappointment,  some- 
times led  to  brilliant  results.  In  1576,  he  published  a  book,  entitled, 
'  A  Discourse  to  prove  a  Passage  by  the  North-west  to  Catheria  and 
the  East  Indies.'  This  discourse  is  preserved  in  Hakluyt's  voyages.  It 
is  a  work  of  considerable  merit,  and  displays  not  only  extensive  read- 
ing, but  no  inconsiderable  measure  of  scientific  knowledge.  Sir  Hum- 
phrey even  lived  to  attempt  the  realization  of  his  hypothesis ;  but  the 
very  year  in  which  his  book  appeared,  the  well-known  Frobisher  sail- 
ed, probably  in  consequence  of  it.  In  the  meantime.  Sir  Humphrey's 
energies  were  employed  on  another  project.  This  was  the  more  com- 
plete discovery  of  the  northern  coast  of  America.  In  1578,  he  ob- 
tained from  Elizabeth  a  patent,  empowering  him  to  take  possession  of 
any  lands  he  might  discover,  or  which  had  been,  as  yet,  unappropriat- 
ed. He  could  not  persuade  othera,  however,  to  join  in  the  enterprize 
with  enthusiasm  equal  to  his  own,  and  it  was  with  considerable  diffi- 
culty that  he  obtained  a  sufficient  number  to  complete  the  expedition. 

Pebiod.]  sir  HUMFHBET  GILBERT.  Ill 

At  length  he  effected  his  object,  in  what  way  we  know  not ;  and  tailed 
to  Newfoundland.     He  soon  returned  without  having  accomplished  any 
thing  by  his  voyage.     Not  discouraged  by  this  ill-success,  he  put  to 
sea  again  in  1583,  with  ^ve  8hi|>s,  and  his  half-brother,  Raleigh,  was 
his  companion  in  this  expedition.     The  largest  vessel  was  compelled  to 
put  back,  a  virulent  disease  having  broken  out  on  board.    August  3d, 
Sir  Humphrey  disembarked  at  Newfoundland,  and,  two  days  after  his 
arrival,  took  formal  possession  of  the  harbour  of  St  John's.     He  im« 
mediately  availed  himself  of  the  queen's  patent,  and  parcelled  out  con« 
siderable  portions  of  the  new  teiritory  to  such  of  his  followers  as  chose 
to  take  them.     None  of  them  thought  it  prudent  to  brave  the  horrors 
of  that  inhospitable  region  at  that  time.     But  as  several  of  them  re- 
tamed  and  settled  on  their  new  possessions.  Sir  Humphrey  is  undoubt- 
edly entitled  to  the  honour  of  being  considered  the  founder  of  this  por- 
tion of  our  American  possessions.     This  was  not  the  great  object,  how- 
ever, with  which  either  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert  or  any  of  the  other 
enterprising  navigators  of  that  day  fitted  out  their  expeditions,  and 
sought,  amidst  so  much  peril,  the  unknown  regions  of  the  west    Their 
immediate  object  was  gold.     The  discovery  of  America  has,  it  is  true, 
incalculably  enriched  Europe,  but  not  in  the  way  Columbus  and  his 
successors  imagined.     To  them,  the  vast  tracts  of  fertile  country,  and 
the  encouragement  to  be  afforded  to  navigation  and  commecce,  were 
as  nothing.     It  was  what  was  beneath  the  surface  that  they  sought;  all 
else  was  comparatively  worthless.     The  success  of  sordid,  avaricious 
Spain,  had  stimulated  the  cupidity  of  all  the  other  European  nations, 
and  no  adventurer  left  the  ports  of  England  who  did  not  dream  of  El- 
dorado and  the  sudden  acquisition  of  boundless  wealth.     In  conformity 
with  the  spirit  of  tiie  age.  Sir  Humphrey  had  taken  out  with  him  a  Saxon 
miner.     He  soon  professed  to  have  discovered  a  rich  silver  mine  on  the 
coast.     To  convince  Sir  Humphrey,  he  showed  some  ore  which  he  had 
dug  up.     Elated  with  hopes  of  his  success,  Sir  Humphrey  said  he  did 
not  doubt  of  being  able  to  obtaiu  from  Elizabeth  ten  thousand  pounds 
for  another  and  larger  expedition  the  next  year,  knowing  that  he  was 
secure  of  his  mistress's  smiles,  if  he  did  but  gratify  her  avarice.     These 
hopes,  however,  were  soon  most  painfully  dissipated.     His  largest  ves- 
sel was  lost  in  a  storm  ;  his  miner  perished  with  her,  and  only  twelve 
of  the  crew  were  saved.     On  the  20th  of  August,  he  embarked  in  a 
small  sloop,  for  the  pui*pose  of  exploring   the   coast     Soon  after  he 
steered  homeward,  but  could  not  be  persuaded  to  desert  the  little  ves- 
sel in  which  he  had  faced  so  many  dangers.     On  the  9th  of  Septem- 
ber, when  the  bark  was  labouring  in  a  most  tempestuous  sea,  he  was 
seen  by  the  crew  of  his  remaining  ship,  sitting  with  a  book  in  his  hand 
in  the  stem  of  the  vessel,  and  was  heard  to  exclaim,  '^  Courage,  my 
lads  I  we  are  as  near  heaven  at  sea  as  on  land.'*     About  midnight  she 
foundered ;  and  the  gallant  Sir  Humphrey  and  his  crew  perished. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  his  character.  At  the  close  of  the  trea- 
tise to  which  we  have  already  referred,  mention  is  made  of  another 
*  On  Navigation,'  which  he  intended  to  publish.  It  is  now  in  all  pro- 
bability lost  He  well  deserves  a  name  amongst  the  bene&ctors  of  his 
country,  since  the  important  colony  of  Newfoundland,  whose  fisheries 
liave  been  so  valuable  to  us,  owes  its  establishment  to  his  enterprise. 

112  POUnCAIi  8EBIES.  [Fomna 

DIED  A.  D.  1590. 

Sir  Francis  Walsinoham  was  born  in  the  early  part  of  tho 
sixteenth  century,  at  Chislehurst  in  Kent,  of  an  ancient  and  hon- 
ourable family  from  Walsingham  in  Norfolk.  His  education  was 
first  conducted  by  a  domestic  tutor  in  his  father's  house,  and  at  a 
suitable  age  he  was  entered  at  King's  college,  Cambridge.  After 
passing  the  usual  period  at  college,  and  completing  his  education 
he  took  an  extensive  tour  among  foreign  nations.  During  the  reign 
of  Queen  Mary,  he  continued  to  reside  abroad,  to  prosecute  his 
studies,  and  to  make  himself  acquainted  with  every  thing  in  the  policy 
of  foreign  nations  which  might  fit  him  to  be  serviceable  to  his  own 
country.  He  became  distinguished  for  his  knowledge  of  the  learned 
languages,  as  well  as  those  of  modem  Europe  ;  but  more  especially  for 
the  skilful  and  eloquent  use  he  made  of  his  own.  Soon  after  the  ac- 
cession of  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  returned  to  his  native  country,  rich  in 
all  those  accomplishments  which  might  fit  him  to  occupy  a  distinguish- 
ed station  in  the  court  of  that  high-minded  princess.  His  talents  for 
business  soon  recommended  him  to  the  queen's  secretary,  Cecil,  who 
gave  him  his  first  employment  as  an  ambassador  to  the  court  of  France, 
during  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  turbulent  periods  of  its  history. 
Distinguished  as  he  was,  however,  by  sagacity  and  caution,  he  was 
deceived  by  the  execrable  Charles  the  Ninth  and  his  mother,  and  gained 
no  foresight  of  those  cruel  and  infernal  plots  which  issued  in  the  horri 
ble  massacre  of  St  Bartholomew.  He  continued  in  this  post  till  the 
year  1573,  discharging  his  duties  with  exemplary  fidelity,  diligence  and 
caution.  His  prudence  and  skill  procured  him  the  praise  of  Wicque- 
fort,  the  distinguished  critic  of  diplomacy,  though  it  may  be  thought 
that  he  carried  the  arts  of  subtlety  and  deception  somewhat  beyond 
the  bounds  of  honour  and  truth.  Dr  Lloyd  says,  <^  his  head  was  so 
strong,  that  he  could  look  into  the  depths  of  men  and  business,  and 
dive  into  the  whirlpools  of  state.  Dexterous  he  was  in  finding  a  secret, 
close  in  keeping  it.  His  conversation  was  insinuating  and  reserved ; 
he  saw  every  man,  and  none  saw  him.  He  would  say,  he  must  observe 
the  joints  and  flexures  of  affairs ;  and  so  do  more  with  a  story,  than 
others  could  with  an  harangue.  He  always  surprised  business,  and 
preferred  motions  in  the  heat  of  other  diversions ;  and  if  he  must  de- 
bate it,  he  would  hear  all.  The  Spanish  proverb  was  familiar  with  him, 
'  Tell  a  lie,  and  find  a  truth  ;'  and  this,  *  Speak  no  more  than  you  may 
safely  retreat  from  without  danger,  or  fairly  go  th/ough  with  without 
opposition.' "  Upon  his  return  he  stood  high  in  the  queen's  favour,  and 
in  1573,  was  sworn  of  the  privy  council,  endowed  with  the  honour  of 
knighthood,  and  appointed  one  of  the  principal  secretaries  of  state. 
One  of  his  chief  engagements  consisted  in  watching,  detecting,  and  de- 
feating all  plots  against  the  queen's  person  and  government.  Few  mi- 
nisters of  state  were  ever  so  well-qualified  for  this  office,  or  ever  dis- 
charged it  with  more  ability  and  success.  He  employed  a  great  num* 
ber  of  agents  as  spies  both  at  home  and  abroad.  The  Jesuits  were  the 
principal  party  whom  be  had  to  watch.     He  overmatched  them  with 

Pbriod.]  Sm  FRANCIS  WALSIKGH am.  113 

their  own  weapons,  drawing  out  and  detecting  all  their  machinations 
while  he  seemed  to  be  the  dupe  of  them.  He  made  himself  acquainted 
with  all  letters  which  passed  between  the  enemies  of  the  government, 
without  breaking  their  seals,  or  seeming  even  to  know  of  their  exis- 
tence. He  practised  with  great  success  the  art  of  weaving  plots  in 
which  the  seditious  were  effectually  entangled.  Sometimes  he  would 
allow  a  plot  to  proceed  for  many  years  together,  admitting  treasonable 
conspirators  to  a  high  degree  of  familiarity  both  with  himself  and  the 
queen,  until  their  guilt  was  ripe  for  detection,  when  he  either  spared 
them  upon  an  humble  submission,  or  made  them  examples  and  warnings 
unto  others. 

In  the  year  1581,  he  was  employed  by  the  queen  in  the  delicate  and 
difficult  aJOTair  of  negotiating  a  marriage  for  her  with  the  duke  of  Au« 
jou.  But  after  the  exercise  of  all  his  patience  and  all  his  diplomatic 
subtlety,  he  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  his  efforts  frustrated  by 
her  royal  coquetry.  Upon  his  return  he  was  despatched  to  the  court 
of  Scotland  for  the  purpose  of  informing  his  mistress  of  the  young 
king's  character  and  abilities.  Walsingham  was  admitted  to  much  fa- 
miliar intercourse  with  him,  and  formed  a  very  favourable  opinion  of 
his  capacity  for  government.  Soon  after  this  embassy,  his  aptness  at 
detecting  plots  against  the  queen's  person  was  called  into  exercise  by 
the  Babington  conspiracy.  As  soon  as  he  had  gained  information  of 
the  existence  of  such  a  plot,  his  next  step  was  effectually  to  entangle 
the  conspirators.  He  engaged  spies,  who  insinuated  themselves  into 
the  confidence  of  the  acting  parties.  He  then  became  master  of  all 
their  proceedings,  and  chose  his  own  opportunity  for  seizing  their  per- 
sons. This  plot  produced  much  alarm  throughout  the  kingdom,  and 
was  the  means  of  sealing  the  fate  of  Mary,  queen  of  Scots.^  The  queen, 
upon  her  trial,  intimated  that  Walsingham  had  probably  forged  some  of 
the  letters  produced  against  her;  but,  on  hearing  it,  Walsingham  rose, 
and  most  solemnly  disavowed  the  charge,  and  in  so  convincing  a  manner, 
that  the  queen  offered  an  apology  to  him  for  having  indulged  such  a  sus- 
picion. Upon  the  unhappy  end  of  the  queen  of  Scotland,  when  the  re- 
sentment of  her  son,  and  of  Scotland  generally,  broke  out  against  Eliza- 
beth and  the  English  nation,  Walsingham  penned  a  wise  and  interesting 
letter  to  Lord  Thirlestone,  James's  secretary,  showing  by  many  irresisti- 
ble arguments,  the  impolicy  of  fomenting  the  enmity  of  the  two  nations 
against  each  other,  and  the  unfavourable  influence  it  must  have  upon 
the  king  of  Scotland's  eventual  succession  to  the  English  throne.  In 
short,  he  proved,  that  to  make  such  a  breach  must  inevitably  create  an 
impassable  gulph  between  the  king  and  the  highest  object  of  his  own 
and  of  the  nation's  hopes.  This  letter  was  attended  with  the  desired 
effect:  an  amicable  intercourse  was  soon  after  restored  between  the 
courts,  and  all  idea  of  hostile  measures  on  the  part  of  James  aban- 

Walsingham  was  heartily  attached  to  the  protestant  cause,  and  en- 
deavoured to  remove  the  church  of  England  as  far  as  possible  from 

'  Walsingham  has  been  charged  with  the  guilt  of  endeavouring  to  effect  the  murder 
of  that  unfortunate  princess  privately.  The  authority  on  which  he  has  been  so  charged 
is  a  letter  addressed  oy  him  to  Sir  Amias  Poulet,  and  signed  by  himself  and  Davidson. 
iiut  there  are  reasons  to  suspect  the  genuineness  of  that  letter,  and  Walsingham  is, 
moreover,  well  known  to  have  strenuously  opposed  so  infamous  an  act  when  it  was 
oroposod  by  the  earl  of  Leicesier. 

II.  P 

114  POLITICAL  8EKIE&  [Foubth 

popery.  He  believed  religion  to  be  the  highest  interest  of  his  country, 
and  to  its  promotion  he  devoted  his  heart,  his  head,  and  his  purse.  He 
has  the  honour  of  having  sustained  and  cemented  the  protestant  cau£« 
in  times  of  its  greatest  peril,  and  of  having  effectually  ruined  the  inte- 
rests  of  popeiy  by  detecting  and  baffling  ail  its  plots.  His  firm  attach- 
ment to  protestantism  inclined  him  to  favour  and  countenance  the  pu- 
ritans, on  account  of  their  zeal  against  popery,  when  the  queen  and 
others  about  the  court  would  have  employed  the  harshest  measures 
against  them. 

In  ]  586,  he  founded  a  divinity  lecture  at  Oxford,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  discuss  the  principal  doctrines  of  Christianity  as  taught  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures,  and  opposed  by  the  church  of  Rome.  This 
lecture  he  endowed  with  the  revenue  of  some  lands  granted  to  him  by 
the  queen,  from  the  vacant  see  of  Oxford.  Lloyd  says,  ^<  he  first  ob- 
served the  great  bishop  of  Winchester  fit  to  serve  the  church,  upon  the 
uulil^ely  youth's  first  sermon  at  AUhallows,  Barking.  He  brought 
the  Lord  Cooke  first  to  the  church  upon  some  private  discourse  with  him 
at  his  table.  He  could  as  well  fit  King  James's  humour  with  sayings 
out  of  Xenophon.  Thucydides,  Plutarch,  Tacitus,  as  he  could  King 
Henry's  with  Rabelais's  conceits,  and  the  Hollander  with  mechanic  dis- 
courses. In  a  word.  Sir  Francis  Walsingham  was  a  studious  and  tem- 
perate man ;  so  public-spirited,  that  he  spent  his  estate  to  serve  the 
kingdom ;  so  faithful,  that  he  bestowed  his  years  on  his  queen ;  so 
learned,  that  he  provided  a  library  for  King's  college  of  his  own  books, 
which  was  the  best  for  policy,  as  Cecil's  was  for  history,  Arundel's  for 
heraldry,  Cotton's  for  antiquities,  and  Usher's  for  divinity.  Finally,  be 
equalled  all  the  statesmen  former  ages  discoursed  of,  and  hardly  hath 
been  equalled  by  any  in  following  ages." 

In  his  advanced  age,  he  retired  from  the  active  duties  of  public  life, 
and  enjoyed  the  learned,  quiet,  and  calm  repose  of  his  country  resi- 
dence. In  1589,  he  entertained  Queen  Elizabeth  at  Barn  Eims.  Be- 
Fore  this  period,  however,  he  had  felt  the  infirmities  of  advancing  age, 
and  withdrew  to  that  retirement  which  so  well-befitted  him  afler  the 
long  and  busy  life  he  had  passed  in  courts  and  cabinets.  He  died, 
April,  1590,  but  so  much  in  debt,  that  it  was  found  desirable  to  bury 
him  by  night  in  St  Paul's,  lest  his  body  should  be  arrested.  As  it  is 
well-known  that  he  was  far  from  extravagance  and  luxury  in  his  mode 
of  living,  his  debts  must  be  ascribed  to  his  zeal  in  the  public  cause,  and 
possibly  to  the  entertainment  he  had  given  the  queen  only  a  year  be- 
fore his  death.  The  system  of  espionage  which  he  found  it  prudent 
or  even  necessary  to  keep  up  was  most  probably  at  his  own  expense ; 
for,  in  that  frugal  age,  patriotism  and  public  service  were  often  left  to 
reward  themselves,  or  to  feed  upon  the  magnanimity  out  of  which  they 

He  left  behind  i^n  only  daughter,  who  was  successively  married  to 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  earl  of  Essex,  and  the  earl  of  Clanricarde,  by  all 
of  whon^  she  had  children.  A  work,  entitled,  *  Arcana  Aulica.  or 
Walsiugham's  Manual  of  PVudential  Maxims  for  the  Statesman  and 
Courtier,^  has  b^n  ascribed  to  him,  but  its  authenticity  has  never  been 
established  H;s  despatches  and  negotiations  during  his  residence  at 
the  court  of  Fi^cct  were  collected  and  published  in  folio,  in  1655*  by 
Sir  Dudley  D^gges. 


IKED  A.  D.  1591. 

This  minister  of  Qaeen  Elizabeth  was  the  youngest  son  of  William 
Hatton,  of  Holdenby,  Hants.  He  entered  at  St  Mary  hall,  Oxford,  and 
thereafter  at  the  Inner  Temple.  During  his  residence  at  the  latter,  he  ap- 
peared at  court.  At  a  masque,  where  he  danced  in  presence  of  Elizabeth, 
he  attracted  her  attention  by  his  figure  and  performance ;  and  from  tliis 
occasion  we  have  to  date  hb  course  of  political  advancement,  which, 
however,  appears  to  have  failed  of  putting  a  final  termination  to  his  ex- 
hibitions in  the  dance.  He  became  a  queen's  pensioner,  and  thereafter 
was  created  successively,  gentleman  of  the  privy-chamber,  captain  of 
the  guard,  vice-chamberlain,  and  privy-councillor.  We  find  him  tak- 
ing an  active  part,  while  vice-chamberlain,  in  the  trial  of  Dr  William 
Parry  for  high  treason,  which  occurred  in  1585.  He  was  not  satisfied 
that  judgment  should  pass  immediately  on  Parry's  confession.  *^  These 
matters,"  said  he,  ''  contained  in  this  indictment,  and  confessed  by  this 
man,  are  of  great  importance ;  they  touch  the  person  of  the  queen's 
majesty  in  the  highest  degree,  the  very  state  and  well-being  of  the 
whole  commonwealth,  and  the  truth  of  God's  word  established  in  her 
majesty's  dominions ;  and  they  contain  the  open  demonstration  of  that 
capital  envy  of  the  man  of  Rome,  that  hath  set  himself  against  Grod  and 
godliness,  all  good  princes,  good  governments,  and  good  men.  Where- 
fore, I  pray  you,  for  the  satisfaction  of  this  great  multitude,  let  the 
whole  truth  appear,  that  every  one  may  see  that  the  matter  of  itself  is 
as  bad  as  the  indictment  purporteth,  and  as  the  prisoner  hath  confes- 
sed." ^  The  court  accordingly  proceeded  with  the  cause,  and  the  vice- 
chamberlain  took  a  special  part  in  the  examination  of  the  prisoner.  This 
trial  afibrded  him  an  opportunity  of  paying  the  following  compliment 
to  the  queen  : — **  It  was  a  wonder  to  see  the  magnanimity  of  her  ma- 
jesty, which,  after  that  thou  hadst  opened  those  traiterous  practices  in 
sort  as  thou  hast  laid  it  down  in  thy  confession,  was,  nevertheless,  such, 
and  so  far  from  all  fear,  as  that  she  would  not  so  much  as  acquaint 
any  one  of  her  highness's  privy-council  with  it,  to  my  knowledge ;  no, 
not  until  afler  this  thy  enterprise  discovered  and  made  manifest.  And 
besides  that  which  thou  hast  set  down  under  thine  own  hand,  thou 
didst  confess  that  thou  hadst  prepared  two  Scottish  daggers,  fit  for  such 
a  purpose ;  and  those  being  disposed  away  by  thee,  thou  didst  say  that 
another  would  serve  thy  turn.  And,  withal.  Parry,  didst  thoi^  not 
also  confess  before  us,  how  wonderfully  thou  wert  appalled  and  per- 
plexed upon  a  sudden,  at  the  presence  of  her  majesty  at  Hampton- 
court,  this  last  summer,  saying,  that  thou  didst  think  thou  then  sawest 
in  her  the  very  likeness  and  image  of  King  Henry  VIII  ?  " ' 

Whether  Hatton's  professed  admiration  of  Elizabeth  materially  influ- 
enced his  farther  elevation  may  be  but  matter  of  conjecture — but,  in 
1587,  on  the  death  of  Bromley,  he  was  raised  to  the  office  of  lord-chan- 
cellor.    In  his  course  of  aggrandisement,  he  had  been  subjected,  as 

'  Criminal  Trials,  f  Library  of  Entertatntng  KnowUdgt^J  vol.  i.  p.  25^ 

•  Ibid.  p.  868. 

116  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foueth 

may  well  be  supposed,  to  hostility  at  court.  It  is  recorded  of  Leices- 
ter, Elizabeth's  unworthy  favourite,  that,  when  Sir  Christopher  was  ill, 
and  the  queen  paid  him  a  daily  visit,  the  earl  endeavoured  to  supplant 
the  man  on  whom  she  was  showering  such  condescending  kindness,  in 
favour  of  Edward  Dyer,  who  had  given  offence  at  court  Even  Hat- 
ton's  appointment  to  the  chancellorship  has  been  represented  as  a 
scheme  supported  by  his  enemies  in  order  to  involve  him  in  disgrace  ; 
and  it  is  stated,  that,  at  first,  the  sergeants  refused  to  plead  at  his  bar. 
There  seems  reason,  indeed,  to  suppose  that  he  had  but  imperfectly 
studied  law,  and  this  deficiency  might  appear  to  us  sufficient  of  itself 
to  have  disqualified  him  for  the  high  and  responsible  office  of  lord-chan- 
cellor, did  we  not  attend  to  a  distinction  between  its  present  functions 
and  those  which,  it  is  probable,  belonged  to  it  then.  Miss  Aiken  re- 
marks,^ **  It  was  only  since  the  reformation  that  this  great  office  had 
begun  to  be  filled  by  common-law  lawyers :  before  this  period  it  was 
usually  exercised  by  some  ecclesiastic  who  was  also  a  civilian  ;  and 
instances  were  not  rare  of  the  seals  having  been  held  in  commission 
by  noblemen  during  considerable  intervails : — ^facts  which,  in  justice  to 
Hatton  and  to  Elizabeth,  ought,  on  this  occasion,  to  be  kept  in  mind." 
Indeed,  the  office  seems  anciently  to  have  been  one  of  equity,  rather 
in  the  sense  of  absoltUe  justice,  than  in  that  of  right,  as  determined 
by  legal  rules  or  manifold  precedents.* 

Prudence  and  good  sense  may  go  far  to  conquer  difficulties  that 
might  seem  to  require  far  higher  faculties  to  overcome  them.  Hat- 
ton  took  two  sergeants  to  advise  him  in  cases  that  came  before 
him,  and  he  gave  public  satisfaction  as  lord-chancellor,  although  it 
seems  that,  at  first,  on  the  queen's  expressing  dissatisfaction  with  her 
own  nomination,  he  offered  to  resign.  Another  mark  of  royal  ftivour 
for  Sir  Christopher  is  a  letter  to  the  bishop  of  Ely,  already  quoted  in 
the  '  Life  of  Elizabeth,'  in  which  she  calls  on  the  prelate  to  stand  by 
an  agreement  he  had  made.  The  engagement  referred  to  was  the  giv- 
ing up  a  garden  and  orchard  connected  with  Ely-house,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Holbom.  On  the  prelate  refusing,  Hatton  prosecuted 
him  in  chancery,  gained  his  suit,  and  built  on  the  place  a  magnificent 
house  encompassed  with  gardens,  the  memorial  of  which  many  of  our 
readers  may  recognise  in  that  part  of  London  known  by  the  name  of 
Hatton-Garden.  That  the  chancellor  was  somewhat  covetous  of  pro- 
perty belonging,  or  supposed  to  belong,  to  the  church,  seems  not  un- 
likely, from  a  similar  incident  recorded  of  him  by  Sir  John  Harring- 
ton.^ Yet  he  appears  to  have  been  a  moderate,  prudent,  and  sensible 
man.  He  supported  the  church  of  England,  and  discouraged  the 
Puritans,  but  was  opposed  to  the  rigid  enforcement  of  certain  statutes 
lately  passed  against  the  Roman  Catholics.     He  was  also  a  man  of 

■  Court  of  Elizabeth,  vol.  ii.  p.  206. 
*  Equity,  in  the  aoceptation  in  which  that  word  is  used  in  English  jurisprudence, ** 
says  Sir  J.  Mackintosh,'^  (l>ifi  of  Sir  T.  More)  **  is  no  longer  to  be  confounded  with 
that  moral  equity  which  generally  corrects  the  unjust  operation  of  law,  and  with  which 
it  seems  to  have  been  synonymous  in  the  days  of  Selden  and  Bacon."  In  conformity 
with  this  view,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  we  do  not  observe  legal  knowledge  to  be  repre- 
sented by  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  as  one  of  More's  qualifications  for  the  office  of  lord* 
chancellor,  in  the  eloquent  speech  which  he  delivered  at  Sir  Thomas^  inat^mtm^^^  at 
given  in  the  life  of  that  eminent  man,  by  More  and  Mackintosh. 

*  Brief  View  of  the  Church  of  England. 

Pemod.]  sir  JOHN  PERROT.  117 

some  literary  attainments.  Warton  supposes  him  to  have  written  part 
of  a  drama,  composed  by  five  students  of  the  Inner  Temple,  entitled 
*Tancred  and  Sigismunda,'  ®  of  which  the  fourth  act  has  this  inscription 
at  the  end — Composuii  Ch.  Hat, — and,  from  the  circumstance  that  part 
of  the  queen's  translation  of  a  tragedy,  preserved  in  MSS.  in  the  Bodlein 
library,  at  Oxford,  is  in  his  autogra|.h,  a  female  biographer  of  Eliza- 
beth '^  infers,  that  he  probably  asAistc:i  her  in  her  literary  pursuits.  He 
has  also  been  supposed  to  be  the  author  of  *  A  treatise  concerning 
Statutes  or  Acts  of  Parliament,  and  the  expression  thereof.'  For  two 
or  three  years  before  his  death,  he  was  vice-chancellor  of  Oxford, 
where  he  did  much  for  the  improvement  of  the  university.  He  died 
in  1591,  ailer  a  considerably  protracted  illness.  His  death  was  attri- 
buted to  a  broken  heart,  occasioned  by  the  queen's  severity  in  de- 
manding certain  sums  received  by  him  as  tithes  and  first-fruits,  which  . 
he  was  unable  to  pay.  Whether  there  is  truth  in  this  explanation  of 
his  death  it  seems  impossible  to  ascertain  with  certainty;  but  the 
queen  paid  him  great  attention  in  his  illness,  and  remitted  to  his  heir, 
her  claims  against  the  chancellor's  estate. 

DIED  A.  D.  1592. 

Common  report,  as  woll  as  personal  resemblance,  gave  Sir  John 
Perrot,  sometime  deputy  of  Ireland,  Henry  VIII.  for  a  father.  Whether 
the  popular  rumour  was  correct  or  not  in  this  instance,  Sir  John 
resembled  his  alleged  parent  in  some  other  points  besides  tboie  merely 
external ;  his  temper  was  as  haughty  and  violent,  and  his  language 
equally  coarse  and  abusive.  The  family  from  which  he  derived 
his  name  and  property  was  settled  at  Haroldtone  in  Pembrokeshire. 
In  1572,  Sir  John  greatly  distinguished  himself  against  the  Munster 
rebels ;  and,  as  lord-deputy  of  Ireland,  some  years  after,  he  exhibited  a 
policy  at  once  humane  and  prudent,  in  checking  as  much  as  possible  the 
tyranny  which  the  English  settlers  exercised  towards  the  natives  of  that 
country,  and  extending  his  protection  to  the  natives.  His  proposal  to 
apply  the  revenues  of  St  Patrick's  cathedral  to  the  purposes  of  general 
education  in  Ireland  raised  the  clergy  against  him,  and  by  means  of 
forged  documents  his  enemies  succeeded  in  representing  him  to  Elizabeth 
as  a  man  of  deep  and  dangerous  enterprises,  who  aimed  at  nothing  less 
than  securing  the  sovereignty  of  Ireland  for  himself.  His  own  hasty 
and  rash  temper  lent  considerable  support  to  their  representatives ;  and 
at  length  in  1592,  he  was  put  upon  his  trial  for  high  treason.  The 
heads  of  the  indictment  wei*e :  his  contemptuous  language  respecting 
the  queen, — ^his  secret  encouragement  of  die  Spanish  invasion, — and 
generally  his  favouring  of  traitors.  Of  the  first  only  of  these  charges 
could  he  be  proved  guilty  with  any  show  of  reason  and  justice,  but  an 
obsequious  jury  found  him  guilty  of  all.  On  leaving  the  bar,  he  is  re- 
ported to  have  exclaimed,  **  God's  death  I   will  the  queen  suffer  her 

"  This  drama  is  given  in  Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  2d  sdit. 
'  Mi«  Aiben,  Cowt  of  EHzabeth,  vol.  ii.  p.  2»A. 

118  POLrnCAX  SERIES.  [Fourth 

brother  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  enry  of  his  gossiping  adversaries  ?"  The 
queen  seems  to  have  felt  the  force  of  the  appesd,  and  delayed  the  issuing 
oi  the  warrant  for  his  execution.  But  in  September,  1592,  this  vic- 
tim of  malice  perished  in  the  Tower  under  the  joint  influence  ol 
a  broken  heart  and  constitution. 

BORN  A.D.  1520. — DIED  A.  D.  1595. 

This  renowned  naval  commander  was  bom  at  Plymouth  about  the 
year  1520.  He  was  descended  of  a  respectable  family  in  Devonshire,  and 
was  the  son  of  Captain  William  Hawkins.  Young  John  was  early  in- 
troduced to  a  seafaring  life,  and  evinced  an  ardent  attachment  to  it. 
His  youth  was  spent  principally  in  voyages  to  Spain  and  Portugal  and 
the  Canary  islands.  These  voyages  were  mainly  devoted  to  com- 
mercial purposes,  and  designed  to  extend  the  trade  of  England.  By 
the  experience  thereby  gained,  Hawkins  became  qualified  for  more  en- 
larged plans  and  bolder  enterprizes.  Unhappily,  however,  these  plans 
were  not  always  project^  with  a  due  respect  for  honour  and  justice. 
In  1562,  he  led  the  way  in  the  lucrative  but  infamous  traffic  in  slaves. 
Having  induced  some  English  merchants  to  embark  with  him  mi  this 
enterprize,  he  fitted  out  several  vessels,  with  which  he  repaired  to  the 
coast  of  Guinea.  There  he  contrived,  partly  by  purchase  and  partly  by 
violence,  to  obtain  a  cargo  of  human  beings  to  the  amount  of  three 
hundred,  which  he  took  immediately  to  Hispaniola  and  disposed  of  in 
an  uniawfiil  trafiic  Success  and  extensive  gains  made  him  still 
bolder  and  more  rapacious.  In  1564,  he  returned  to  the  Guinea  coast 
with  a  larger  force  of  men  and  shipping.  Carrying  on  his  kidnapping 
enterprize  to  greater  extent,  he  lost  some  of  his  men,  but  still  obtained  a 
large  number  of  Negroes,  for  which  he  again  found  a  ready  market,  and 
obtained  a  high  price.  Those  brutal  proceedings,  instead  of  kindling  the 
indignation  of  his  countrymen,  rather  conduced  to  spread  abros^  his 
fame,  and  to  draw  the  admiring  eyes  of  the  world  upon  the  bold  and  suc- 
cessful commander  who  had  thus  shown  a  new  and  speedy  way  to  riches.^ 
In  1567,  he  proceeded  upon  a  third  expedition,  having  under  his  com- 
mand two  of  the  queen's  ships  and  four  of  private  owners*  Having 
obtained  by  purchase  and  violence  four  hundred  slaves,  he  proceeded  to 
Spanish  America,  but  on  his  arrival  at  Rio  de  la  Flacha,  the  governor  re- 
fiised  to  have  any  traffic  with  him.  Without  farther  ceremony  he  landed 
and  took  the  town,  and  was  thereby  enabled  to  dispose  of  his  Negroes  to 
the  inhabitants.  At  this  period  the  Spaniards  were  at  peace  with 
England,  but  disputed  the  right  of  free  trade  which  England  claimed. 
Hawkins,  however,  asserted  the  rights  of  his  country  with  great  vigoui 
and  spirit  From  this  port  he  sailed  to  Carthagena,  and  there  disposed 
of  the  remainder  of  his  slaves,  but  on  his  voyage  back  was  overtaken  by  a 

■  It  will  appear  in  the  present  age  a  singular  proof  of  the  berlNtrism  of  thote  times^ 
tliat  even  an  armorial  distinction  should  be  sought  for  the  man  who  brouglU  so  foul  a 
blol  on  the  escutcheon  of  his  country.  A  crest  of  arms  was  granted  him  by  patent,  oou« 
sisting  of  a  demy-moor  in  his  proper  colour,  bound  with  a  cord— «  fit  and  worthy  sym- 
bol of  the  inhuman  feats  which  had  emblazoned  the  name  of  Hawkins. 


Pjbmod.]  Sm  JOHN  HAWKINa  119 

8torm  in  the  baj  of  Mexico,  and  driven  into  the  harbour  of  St  Juan  dc 
Ulloa.     He  entered  this  harbour  without  soliciting  permission  to  do  so, 
and  it  was  recorded  at  the  time  as  an  instance  of  generous  forbearance^ 
that  he  did  not  seize  twelve  rich  merchantmen  then  in  the  harbour,  but 
contented  himself  with  taking  hostages  for  the  supply  of  whatever  he 
might  want.     While  Hawkins  was  refitting  in  thb  harbour,  a  fleet  of 
Spaniards  appeared,  which  was  suffered  to  enter  the  harbour  after  a  nego- 
tiation.    The  Spanish  viceroy  gave  assurances  of  firiendship  to  the  Eng- 
lish commander,  but  it  was  only  to  secure  time,  and  make  preparations 
for  an  attack.   As  soon  as  Hawkins  perceived  his  situation  he  determined 
to  fight  with  the  greatest  obstinacy.     His  force  was  greatly  inferior  and 
quite  unfit  to  cope  with  the  Spaniards.     The  result  was  deeply  disas- 
trous to  the  English  squadron.     Hawkins,  after  a  terrible  conflict,  was 
obliged  to  seek  safety  by  flight.     With  one  ship  and  a  bark  he  made 
sail,  but  was  obliged  through  inadequate  provision,  to  put  half  his  men 
on  shore,  in  a  creek  of  the  bay.     He  then  made  the  bast  of  his  way  for 
England,  and  after  enduring  great  hardships  reached  it  in  January,  1568. 
From  this  period  his  ardour  for  naval  enterprizes  appears  to  have  sub- 
sided.    He  quietly  applied  himself  to  the  service  of  his  country  in  the 
office  of  treasurer  of  the  navy,  to  which  he  was  appointed  in  1573. 
There  were  several  younger  men  and  oflicers  of  great  merit  who  had 
been  bred  under  himself,  and  among  these,  none  more  justly  renowned 
than  his  kinsman  Drake.     Soon  after  this  appointment,  he  was  very 
near  losing  his  life  through  being  mistaken  by  an  assassin  for  the 
vice-chamberlain  Hatton.     For  some  years  Hawkins  continued  to  ad- 
vise and  direct  the  naval  enterprizes,  though  he  took  no  direct  part  in 
tlieir  execution;  but  in  1588,  when  the  naval  power  of  Spain  was 
brought   against   England   in   the  formidable   and   splendid  armada, 
Hawkins  of  course,  as  an  experienced  and  brave  commander,  was  called, 
forth  to  action.     He  had  the  commission  of  rear-admiral  on  that  memor- 
able occasion,  and  commanded  the  Victory.     He  subsequently  received 
the  honour  of  knighthood  and  the  flattering  commendations  of  the  queen 
for  his  conduct  on  that  emergency.     In  1590,  two  squadrons  of  ships 
were  sent  out  to  infest  the  Spanish  coast,  and  interrupt  their  fleet  which 
was  expected  with  treasure  firom  the  new  world.     One  of  these  squad* 
rons  was  put  under  his  command;  the  other  under  Sir  Martin  Frobisher. 
This  cruize  however  failed  in  its  main  objects,  though  it  greatly  dis* 
tressed  Spain,  and  contributed  to  the  maintenance  of  our  naval  su- 
periority.    Hawkin's  last  enterprize  was  in  conjunction  with  Drake 
against  the  West  Indies.     The  commanders  quarrelled,  the  enterprize 
failed,  and  Hawkins  falling  ill  through  vexation,  and  probably  through 
the  wound  his  pride  had  received  in  being  obliged  to  submit  to  Drake, 
died  before  any  thing  had  been  effected,  on  the  21st  of  November,  1595. 
He  had  been  twice  returned  member  of  parliament  for  his  native  place, 
Rymouth.     He  founded  an  hospital  at  Chatham,  for  poor  and  infirm 
and  sick  sailors.     He  was  admitted  to  be  an  able  and  judicious  officer; 
and  though  his  fame  is  sullied  by  the  part  he  took  in  establishing  the 
slave-trade,  yet  he  contributed  greatly  to  establish  the  maritime  repu- 
tation of  his  country.     He  was  highly  esteemed  for  his  thorough  know- 
ledge of  every  branch  of  naval  affairs.     His  courage  was  rather  coo] 
than  enterprising,  rather  firm  than  bold.     His  manners  were  rude  and 
harsh,  and  he  was  more  beloved  by  his  men  than  by  his  officers*    In 

120  POLITICAL  SERIEa  [Foubth 

some  respects  he  cannot  stand  as  a  true  specimen  of  English  naval 
character— 4ie  was  both  crafty  and  avaricious. 

#tr  iffvmcisi  Bra&(. 

BORN  A.  D.  154<5. — DIBO  A.  D.  1596. 

Francis  Drake,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  names  in  the  naval  his« 
tory  of  England,  was  bom  of  obscure  parentage,  at  Tavistock,  in 
Devonshire,  in  1545.  He  was  the  eldest  of  twelve  sons,  all  of  whom, 
with  few  exceptions,  went  to  sea.  Francio  was  early  apprenticed  to  the 
master  of  a  small  vessel  that  traded  to  France  and  the  Low  Countries, 
who,  dying  unmarried,  left  him  his  ship  in  reward  of  his  faithful  ser- 
vices. At  this  time  the  West  Indies  had  not  been  long  discovered,  and 
little  was  talked  of  amongst  merchant-seamen  but  the  riches  of  this  new 
country  and  the  wealth  to  be  got  by  trading  with  it.  Drake  too  was 
dazzled  by  the  prospect  of  an  adventure  to  the  West  Indies,  and  having 
sold  the  vessel  of  which  he  had  so  lately  become  possessed,  embarked 
the  proceeds  in  what  was  then  called  the  Guinea-trade,  and  sailed 
from  England  in  the  squadron  of  Captain  John  Hawkins.  The  regu* 
lar  course  of  this  trade  was  to  repair  first  to  the  Guinea  coast,  and,  by 
force,  fraud,  and  other  means,  procure  a  cargo  of  slaves,  and  then  to 
proceed  to  the  Spanish  islands  and  colonies,  where  the  Africans  were 
exchanged  for  such  commodities  as  were  most  marketable  at  home. 
Hawkins's  squadron  having  completed  their  cargo  of  slaves  sailed  lor 
Spanish  America,  and  entered  the  port  of  St  Juan  de  Ulloa,  in  the 
gulf  of  Mexico,  where  they  were  treacherously  attacked  by  the  Spanish 
Sect,  as  related  in  a  preceding  notice,  and  four  of  their  vessels  de- 
stroyed. The  Minion,  with  Hawkins  himself  on  board,  and  the  Judith^ 
commanded  by  Drake,  were  the  only  English  ships  that  escaped  on  this 

Drake  lost  his  whole  property  in  this  unfortunate  adventure,  but, 
though  oppressed  and  impoverished,  he  retained  at  least  his  courage 
and  his  industry ;  and,  with  that  ardent  spirit  which  prompted  him  to, 
and  bore  him  through,  so  many  adventures,  he  instantly  projected  and 
executed  a  new  voyage  to  America,  with  the  view  of  gaining  accurate 
intelligence  of  the  state  of  the  Spanish  settlements  in  that  quarter,  pre- 
paratory to  a  grand  expedition  against  them.  This  first  experimental 
voyage  took  place  in  1570  ;  but  Drake's  first  attempt  at  reprisal  upon 
a  large  scale  was  made  in  1572.  On  the  24th  of  May,  that  year,  he 
sailed  from  Plymouth  in  the  Pasha,  of  70  tons,  accompanied  by  the 
Swan,  of  25  tons ;  the  latter  vessel  being  placed  under  the  command 
of  his  brother  John.  The  whole  force  wiUi  which  Drake  set  out  on 
this  occasion^  to  make  reprisals  upon  the  most  powerful  nation  in  the 
world,  consisted  of  these  two  light  vessels,  slightly  ariaed,  and  supplied 
with  a  year's  provisions,  and  73  men  and  boys.  He,  probably,  how- 
ever, increased  his  force  during  the  cruise^  and  we  know  that  he  was 
ioined  before  his  attack  on  Nombre  de  Dios,  by  one  Captain  Rause, 
whose  ship  was  manned  by  about  50  men.  His  attack  on  Nombre 
de  Dios  failed,  but,  shortly  after,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  capture 
a  string  of  treasure-mules,  on  the  rout  from  Panama  to  that  port.     It 

4.^..U/^-A..^.../....  ...   (y...J£...„y 

Pbkiod.]  sir  FRANCIS  DRAKE.  121 

was  (luring  the  hurried  march  which  he  made  across  the  isthmus,  with 
the  view  of  effecting  this  capture,  that  Drake  caught  his  first  sight  of 
the  Pacific  from  <  a  goodly  and  great  high  tree,' — a  sight  which,  to 
use  the  words  of  Camden,  "  left  him  no  rest  in  his  own  mind  till  he 
bad  accomplished  his  purpose  of  sailing  an  English  ship  in  those  seas."* 
After  his  return  to  England  from  this  successful  expedition,  we  find 
Drake  acting  as  a  volunteer  with  three  stout  frigates,  under  Essex,  in 
subduing  the  Irish  rebellion.     His  services  on  this  occasion  enabled 
Sir  Christopher  Hatton  to  present  him  with  many  recommendations  to 
Queen  Elizabeth,  who,  pleased  with  the  young  mariner's  appearance 
and  account  of  himself,  promised  him  her  patronage  and  assistance  for 
the  future.     Drake  now  announced  his  scheme  of  a  voyage  into  the 
south  seas,  through  the  straits  of  Magellan,  and  Elizabeth  secretly  en- 
couraged his  design.     It  was  of  importance  to  conceal  the  matter  from 
the  Spaniards.     The  squadron,  therefore,  which  Drake  collected  for  his 
new  expedition  was  ostensibly  fitted  out  for  a  trading  voyage  to  Alex- 
andria.    It  consisted  of  five  small  vessels,  the  largest,  called  &e  Pelican, 
being  only  500  tons,  and  the  aggregate  crew  only  164  men.     A  violent 
gale  forced  them  back,  soon  after  quitting  port,  and  did  considerable  dam- 
age to  the  little  squadron ;  but,  on  the  13th  of  December,  1577,  they 
again  put  to  sea,  and,  on  the  20th  of  May,  1578,  the  squadron  anchored 
in  the  Port  St  Julian  of  Magellan,  in  40*  30'  south  latitude.     *'  Here," 
says  one  relation,  **  we  found  the  gibbet  still  standing  on  the  main 
where  Magellan  did  execute  justice  upon  some  of  bis  rebellious  and 
discontented  company."     Whether  Drake  took  the  hint  thus  suggested 
from  his  predecessor  or  not,  he  embraced  the  opportunity  i^orded 
him  during  the  stay  of  the  fleet  at  this  place  to  bring  one  of  the  part- 
nei^  of  his  expedition  to  trial  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy  and  mutiny. 
The  accounts  which  we  possess  of  this  transaction  are  by  no  means 
clear  or  corroborating.     We  know,  in  fact,  little  more  of  it  than  Cliffe 
has  expressed  in   one   brief  sentence,    "  Mr   Thomas  Doughty  was 
brought  to  his  answer, — accused,   convicted,   and  beheaded."      Mr 
Francis  Fletcher,  the  chaplain  of  the  fleet,  states  that  Drake  took  the 
sacrament  with  Doughty  after  his  condemnation,  and  that  they  then 
dined  together  **  at  the  same  table,  as  cheerfully  in  soi>riety  as  ever  in 
their  lives  they  had  done ;  and,  taking  their  leaves,  by  drinking  to 
each  other,  as  if  some  short  journey  only  had  been  in  hand."     Early 
in  September,  the  squadron  emerged  from  the  western  end  of  the  straits, 
having  spent  about  fifteen  days  in  their  navigation,  and,  on  the  6th  of 
the  same  month,  Drake  enjoyed  the  long  prayed  for  felicity  of  sailing 
an  English  ship  on  the  South  sea.     On  clearing  the  straits,  the  fleet 
held  a  north-west  course,  but  was  immediately  driven  by  a  violent  gale 
into  57  south  latitude,  soon  after  which  the  Marigold  parted  company, 
and  was  never  heard  of  more.     To  complete  their  disasters,  the  Golden 
Hind,  in  which  Drake  himself  now  sailed,  while  anchored  in  a  bay 
near  the  entrance  of  the  straits,  broke  her  cable  and  drove  to  sea.    The 
Elizabeth,  her  companion,  commanded  by  Captain  Winter,  immediate- 
ly returned  through  the  straits,  and  reached  England  in  June,  1578. 
But  the  Hind,  being  beaten  round  without  the  strait,  touched  at  Cape 
Horn,  firom  which  place  Drake  sailed  along  the  coast  to  Valparaiso, 
nigh  to  which  latter  place  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  fall  in  with  and 
capture  a  valuable  Spanbh  ship,  in  which  were  found  60,000  pesos  of 

II.  Q 

gold,  and  1770  jars  of  Chili  wine.  A  richer  prize  soon  after  fell  into  his 
bands :  this  was  the  Cacafiiego  having  on  board  26  tons  of  silver,  13 
chests  of  plate,  and  80  lbs.  of  gold.  Drake  now  began  to  think  of  re> 
turning  home,  but,  as  the  attempt  to  repass  the  straits  would  have  ex- 
posed him  to  the  certainty  of  capture  by  the  despoiled  Spaniards,  he 
resolved  on  seeking  a  north-west  passage  homewards,  and,  with  this 
resolution,  steered  for  Nicaragua.  In  this  attempt,  he  reached  the 
48th  northern  parallel  on  the  western  coast  of  America,  but,  despair- 
ing of  success,  and  the  season  being  now  far  advanced,  he  steered  west- 
wards from  this  point  for  the  cape  of  Good  Hope,  and,  on  the  16th  of 
October,  made  the  Philippines.  After  narrowly  escaping  shipwreck 
on  the  coast  of  Celebes,  in  l**  56'  south  latitude,  they  made  sail  for 
Java*  which  they  reached  on  the  12th  of  March,  and,  on  the  15th  of 
June,  they  reached  the  cape  of  Good  Hope,  which,  to  their  great  sur* 
prise,  they  doubled  with  comparative  ease  and  safety, — a  circumstance 
from  which  they  concluded  ^*  the  report  of  the  Portugals  most  false,** 
which  had  represented  the  doubling  of  the  cape  as  a  thing  of  exceeding 
danger  and  difficulty.  On  the  25th  of  September,  1580,  Captain 
Drake  came  to  anchor  in  the  harbour  of  Plymouth,  having  completed 
the  circumnavigation  of  the  globe  in  two  years  and  ten  months.  The 
fame  of  his  exploit,  and  of  the  inunense  booty  which  he  had  captured, 
soon  rung  throughout  all  England,  and,  on  the  4th  of  April,  1581, 
Queen  Elizabeth  rewarded  the  intrepid  navigator  by  dining  in  st^e  on 
board  the  Hind,  and  conferring  upon  its  commander  the  honour  oi 
knighthood.  The  Spanish  court  was  loud  in  its  complaints  agaimst 
Drake,  and  solemnly  protested  against  the  right  of  the  English  to  navi- 
gate the  South  sea ;  but  Elizabeth  treated  its  remonstrances  with  scorn, 
and  a  war  betwixt  the  two  nations  ensued  forthwith. 

In  1585,  Sir  Francis  sailed,  with  an  armament  of  twenty-five  sail,  to 
the  West  Indies,  and  captured  the  cities  of  St  Jago,  St  Domingo,  and 
Carthagena.  His  vice-admiral  in  this  expedition  was  the  celebrated 
Martin  Frobisher.  His  next  exploit  was  an  attack  upon  the  shipping 
of  Cadiz,  which  was  to  have  made  part  of  the  armada.  In  this  service 
he  was  completely  successful,  having  burnt  upwards  of  10,000  tons  of 
shipping  in  that  harbour.  A  more  lucrative,  if  less  splendid,  achieve- 
ment, was  the  capture  of  the  St  Philip,  a  Portuguese  carrack  from  the 
West  Indies,  with  an  immense  treasure  on  board.  In  the  following 
year,  he  was  appointed  vice-admiral  under  Howard,  high-admiral  of 
England,  and  acquitted  himself  most  nobly  and  successfully  in  the 
ever-memorable  fight  with  the  armada.  In  1595,  Sir  Francis  was,  for 
a  short  time,  associated  with  Sir  John  Hawkins,  in  an  expedition 
against  the  West  Indies,  the  details  of  which  have  already  been  given 
in  our  notice  of  the  latter  commander.  The  expedition  proved  fatal 
to  both  its  commanders.  Within  little  more  than  two  months  afler 
the  death  of  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Admiral  Drake  expired  on  board  hia 
own  ship,  off  Porto  Bello,  on  the  28th  of  January,  1596.  ^ 

Period.]  CECIL,  LORD  BURLEIGH.  123 

BORN  A.  D.  1520. — DIED  A.  D.  1598. 

William  Cecil^  Lord  Burleigh,  secretary  of  state  in  the  reigns  of 
Edward  VI.  and  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  afterwards  lord-high-treasurer 
of  England,  was  the  son  of  Richard  Cecil,  Esq.  of  Burleigh,  in  the 
county  of  Northampton,  master  of  the  robes  to  Henry  VIII.  His  fa 
mily  traced  their  origin  to  Robert  Sitsilt,  who  assisted  Robert  Fiu 
Hammon  in  the  conquest  of  Glamorganshire,  in  1091.  William  was 
born  at  Bourne  in  Lincolnshire,  on  the  ISth  of  September,  1520,  and 
received  the  first  rudiments  of  education  successively  at  the  grammat 
schools  of  Grantham  and  Stamford.  In  1535  he  was  removed  to  St 
John's  college,  Cambridge,  where  he  distinguished  himself  by  close 
application  to  his  studies.  At  the  early  age  of  sixteen,  he  delivered  a 
public  lecture  on  the  logic  of  the  schools ;  and  before  completing  his 
twentieth  year,  he  read  prelections  on  the  Greek  language. 

About  the  year  1541,  he  entered  of  Gray's  inn,  where  he  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  law,  and  to  the  cultivation  of  such  habits  as 
were  likely  to  promote  his  professional  eminence.  It  is  recorded  of 
him,  that  when  studjdng  here,  he  lost  all  his  furniture  and  books  to  his 
companion  at  the  gaming  table,  but  adopted  the  following  device  for 
obtaining  restitution  of  what  he  could  ill  aflfbrd  to  spare  at  the  time. 
He  bored  a  hole  in  the  wall  which  separated  his  chambers  from  those 
of  his  associate,  and  at  midnight  bellowed  through  the  aperture  sundry 
fearful  threats  and  exhortations  to  repentance,  which  so  terrified  the 
victorious  gambler,  that  he  refunded  his  winnings,  on  his  knees,  next 
day.  "  Many  other  the  like  merry  jests,"  says  his  old  biographer,  **  1 
have  heard  him  telf,  too  long  to  be  here  noted."  An  incident,  trivial 
in  itself,  proved  the  means  of  introducing  him  to  the  notice  of  his  sove- 
reign. Having  gone  to  visit  his  &ther  in  his  apartments  at  court,  he 
met  with  two  of  O'Neil  the  Irish  chieftain's  chaplains,  in  the  presence 
chamber,  with  whom  he  got  into  a  warm  dispute  on  various  points  of 
faith,  and  particularly  on  the  pope's  supremacy.  The  argument  was 
conducted  in  Latin,  but  the  youthful  advocate  for  the  reformed  religion 
completely  foiled  his  priestly  opponents.  This  incident  having  been 
related  to  the  king,  he  desired  to  see  young  Cecil,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  his  demeanour  and  conversation,  that  he  directed  his  master  of 
the  robes  to  provide  his  son  with  a  place  at  court  As  no  suitable  situ- 
ation happened  to  be  vacant  at  the  time,  his  &ther  solicited  for  him  the 
reversion  of  the  Custos  Brevium  in  the  court  of  common  pleas,  which 
was  readily  granted.  Shortly  after  this  auspicious  introduction  at 
court,  CecU  married  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Sir  John  Cheke,  a  gentle- 
man of  great  respectability  and  influence,  who  introduced  him  to  the 
notice  of  the  eari  of  Hertford,  maternal  uncle  to  the  young  prince  Ed- 
ward. His  first  wife  having  died  in  1548,  he  now  married  a  daughter 
of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke,  the  director  of  the  young  king's  studies,  with 
whom  he  received  a  considerable  fortune,  which,  in  addition  to  the  re- 
venue of  the  office  of  Custos,  to  which  he  had  now  succeeded,  placed 
him  in  comparative  affluence.  In  1547,  he  was  appointed  to  the  office 
oi  master  of  requests  by  the  protector,  Somerset ;  and  in  the  same  year, 

124  POLITICAL  SERIES.  (Toubth 

he  accompanied  his  patron  into  Scotland,  and  was  present  at  the  battle 
of  Pin  key.  In  1548,  he  was  promoted  to  the  high  office  of  secretary 
of  state.  The  fall  of  his  patron — ^which  took  place  in  little  more  than 
a  year  after  this — ^involved  Cecil,  who  wasi  committed  to  the  Tower, 
where  he  remained  for  about  the  space  of  three  months,  when,  through 
the  intercession  of  the  duke  of  Northumberland,  he  was  not  only  set 
at  liberty,  but  restored  to  his  office  of  secretary,  knighted,  and  sworn 
of  the  privy  council.  Cecil  played  his  part  in  the  complicated  politics 
of  Ithe  day  with  great  prudence  and  dexterity.  He  has  been  accused 
of  ingratitude  towards  his  former  patron,  Somerset,  aud  of  having  pro- 
moted the  ruin  of  that  unfortunate  nobleman ;  but  the  charge  is  sup- 
ported only  by  negative  proofs.  We  have  no  evidence  that  he  inter- 
fered to  preserve  Somerset ;  but  we  have  as  little  that  his  interlerenee 
would  have  been  of  any  service  in  the  case.  It  was  to  the  honour  of 
the  young  secretary,  that  whilst  all  the  other  courtiers  were  involved 
m  the  factions  and  intrigues  of  the  day,  he  alone  kept  aloof  from 
cabals,  and  applied  himself  with  unremitting  attention  to  the  duties  of 
his  office.  In  1553,  Sir  William  undertook  the  liquidation  of  the 
crown  debts,  and  for  this  eminent  service  he  was  made  chancellor  of 
the  order  of  the  Garter. 

Cecil  has  been  charged  with  having  assisted  in  drawing  up  the  pa« 
tent  by  which  the  young  king,  feeling  himself  dying,  consented  to  fix 
the  succession  to  the  throne  in  the  person  of  the  duchess  of  Suffolk,  to 
the  exclusion  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  daughters  of  Henry  VHI.,  and 
Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  grandaughter  of  Henry's  eldest  sister ;  but  in  a 
memorial  which  he  afterwards  drew  up  touching  his  conduct  in  thi& 
matter,  he  declares  that  he  refused  to  subscribe  the  patent  as  a  privy- 
councillor,  and  had  only  consented,  at  the  king's  earnest  entreaty,  to 
subscribe  that  document  as  witness  to  the  king's  signature.  Fuller 
says,  <*  his  hand  wrote  it  as  secretary  of  state,  but  his  heart  consented 
not  thereto.  Yea,  he  openly  opposed  it ;  though  at  last,  yielding  to  the 
greatness  of  Northumberland,  in  an  age  when  it  was  present  drowning 
not  to  swim  with  the  stream.  But,"  he  adds,  '*  Cecil  had  secret  coun- 
ter endeavours  against  the  strain  of  the  court  herein,  and  privately 
advanced  his  rightful  intentions  against  the  foresaid  duke's  ambition." 
This  was  undoubtedly  the  most  perilous  conjuncture  of  Cecil's  life ;  but 
his  sagacity  and  self-command  never  deserted  him,  and  finally  extricated 
him  from  the  dangers  which  beset  him.  On  the  king's  demise,  he  re- 
solutely refused  to  draw  up  the  proclamation,  declaring  Lady  Jane 
Grey's  title  to  the  crown ;  and  soon  afterwards  he  contrived  to  escape 
from  the  city  and  join  Queen  Mary,  who  received  him  very  graciously, 
and  would  have  retained  him  in  her  service  in  the  appointment  which 
he  had  hitherto  held,  if  he  would  have  consented  to  renounce  the  pro- 
testant  faith,  which  he  declined  to  do ;  he  went  to  mass  however,  and 
for  the  better  ordering  of  his  spiritual  concerns  took  a  priest  into  his 
house.  During  the  remainder  of  Mary's  reign,  he  continued  in  a  pri- 
vate station,  only  attending  his  duty  in  parliament,  where  he  sat  as  one  of 
the  members  for  the  county  of  Lincoln,  and  conducted  himself  with 
considerable  boldness,  particularly  in  the  debate  which  ended  in  the 
rejection  of  the  bill  for  confiscating  the  estates  of  such  as  had  quitted 
the  kingdom  on  the  score  of  religion.  Yet  so  guarded  was  his  language, 
as  a  parliamentary  leader  in  opposition  to  the  court,  that  while  some 

Pjbriod.]  CECIL,  LOKD  BUBLEIGH.  123 

who  acted  with  him  were  imprisoned  by  the  privy  council,  he  escaped 
with  impunity. 

Cecil  certainly  foresaw  that  the  accession  of  Elizabeth  to  the  thronr- 
was  an  event  not  &r  distant,  and  with  consummate  skill  he  managed  to 
pay  his  court  to  that  princess  without  exciting  the  suspicion  of  her 
bigotted  sister.     When  that  event  happened,  Cecil  was  the  first  penori 
sworn  of  Elizabeth's  privy-council,  and  he  was  at  the  same  time  created 
secretary  of  state.     One  of  the  first  measures  which  he  recommended  to 
the  attention  of  the  queen,  was  to  meet  the  spirit  of  the  times  by  a 
thorough  reformation  of  the  church.     He  urged  upon  her  consideration 
the  facts,  that  the  nation  had  expressed  itself  decidedly  in  favour  of 
such  a  step, — ^that  the  protestant  party  confidently  looked  to  her  for  it, — 
that  she  had  nothing  to  hope  but  much  to  fear  from  the  catholic  party, — 
and  that  it  became  her  to  vindicate  that  supremacy  in  matters  ecclesias- 
tical as  well  as  civil  which  her  royal  father  had  so  boldly  claimed  and 
so  highly  valued.     By  such  representations  he  wrung  a  reluctant  con- 
sent from  Elizabeth  to  the  measures  which  he  proposed;  her  prejudices, 
however,  frequently  resisted  her  minister's  discernment,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  Cecil  maintained  his  ground  against  Parker, 
Whitgifl,  and  other  intolerant  prelates.     His  next  care  was  to  remedy 
the  abuses  in  the  coinage  which  had  been  greatly  debased  during  the 
preceding  reigns,  and  the  measures  which  he  adopted  for  this  purpose 
proved  so  efiectual  that  the  money  of  England  soon  became  the  heaviest 
and  finest  in  Europe.     All  his  financial  suggestions  were  not  equally 
praiseworthy.     The  plan  which  he  proposed  to  Elizabeth  for  augmenting 
her  revenue  without  having  recourse  to  parliament,  is  especially  to  be  de- 
precated.  His  scheme  was  to  erect  a  court  for  the  correction  of  all  abuses 
throughout  the  kingdom ;  its  officers  were  to  be  invested  with  a  kind  of 
inquisitorial  authority,  and  to  punish  defaulters  by  fines  proportionate 
to  their  offences,  which  were  all  to  be  paid  into  the  royal  exchequer. 
Such  a  measure,  if  gone  into,  would  have  been  to  revive  the  practices  of 
Empson  and  Dudley,  and  raise  a  storm  of  popular  opposition  which  might 
have  hurled  even  the  stem  and  wary  Elizabeth  from  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land.    Cecil  was  also  the  author  of  a  scheme  for  raising  a  general  loan 
equivalent  in  amount  to  a  subsidy.     A  better  feature  in  Cecil's  charac- 
ter as  a  financier  was  his  strict  economy.     Elizabeth,  fortunately  for 
herself  and  the  nation,  went  along  with  him  in  this,  and  the  consequence 
was  that  the  government  during  her  reign  was  conducted  at  less  ex- 
pense, in  proportion  to  the  transactions,  domestic  and  foreign,  in  which  it 
was  engaged,  than  that  of  any  other  British  sovereign.     She  also  paid 
the  debts  with  which  her  father  and  sister  had  encumbered  the  crown, 
amounting  it  is  supposed  to  above  £4,000,000 ;  and  at  her  death,  left 
the  states  of  Holland  her  debtors  to  the  amount  of  £800,000,  and 
France  £450,000.     Elizabeth,  however,  had  her  favourites  on  whom 
she  occasionally  lavished  her  treasures  with  a  most  prodigal  hand, 
such  especially  was  Essex,  who,  at  different  times,  had  received  from 
the  queen  pecuniary  gifls  to  the  extent  of  £700,000.*     Then  there 
were  the  usual  host  of  needy  and  supplicating  courtiers  who  beset  both 
the  queen  and  her  minister  on  all  occasions  with  their  importunities. 
All  this  last  tribe  were  treated  by  Cecil  with  the  contempt  they  merited, 

*  Nanton*s  Rega'ia,  chap.  i. 

and  lie  was  ever  on  the  alert  to  harden  the  queen  against  their  solicita- 
tions. He  was  in  consequence  often  bitterly  inveighed  against  as  a 
parsimonious  and  narrow-minded  minister,  and  even  threatened  with 
the  vengeance  of  the  disappointed  seekers  for  wealth  or  preferment ; 
but,  strong  in  the  consciousness  of  his  own  rectitude  he  despised  their 
damours,  and  pursued  the  same  maxims  with  which  he  had  commenced 
during  the  whole  of  his  long  and  successful  ministry.  But  while  thus 
hostile  to  irregular  and  unmerited  gratuities,  Cecil  was  a  punctual 
and  liberal  rewarder  of  real  services.  It  was  by  his  advice  that  the 
common  soldiers  were  first  clothed  at  the  expense  of  government,  and 
received  their  weekly  allowances  directly  into  their  own  hands,  in- 
stead of,  as  formerly,  through  the  medium  of  their  officers. 

Another  task  which  this  indefatigable  minister  took  upon  himself, 
was  that  of  answering  all  publications  hostile  to  the  queen's  government. 
Hb  political  writings  evince  a  fair,  open,  and  liberal  spirit,  and  con- 
tributed much,  it  is  said,  to  retain  the  people  in  their  allegiance,  during 
the  frequent  partial  insurrections  which  succeeded  Norfolk's  first  con- 
spiracy. The  .Jesuitical  libellers  of  the  day  had  also  their  full  share  of 
notice  from  the  secretary's  pen,  as  his  voluminous  apologies  still  ex- 
tant testify.* 

Cecil  was  raised  to  the  office  of  lord-high-treasurer  in  1572,  being 
the  eleventh  year  of  his  administration.  Under  his  management  the 
receipts  of  the  treasury  increased  rapidly,  while  the  mode  of  levying 
the  taxes  was  more  equalized,  and  the  general  burden  made  to  sit 
lighter  on  the  people.  It  was  an  excellent  saying  of  his,  that  '*he 
never  cared  to  see  the  treasury  swell  like  a  disordered  spleen  when  the 
other  parts  of  the  constitution  were  in  a  consumption."  It  was  an  inva- 
riable rule  of  his  never  to  issue  the  smallest  payment  without  an  ex- 
press order  from  the  queen ;  and  as  he  never  would  borrow  from  the 
exchequer  for  his  own  private  purposes,  he  was  almost  the  only  one  of 
Elizabeth's  ministers,  who,  at  his  death,  owed  nothing  to  the  public. 
The  same  consideration  which  suggested  these  economical  courses  to 
Elizabeth's  great  minister,  prompted  him  also  to  a  pacific  line  of  foreign 
policy.  "  War,"  he  used  to  say,  "  is  soon  kindled,  but  peace  very 
hardly  procured.  War  is  the  curse  and  peace  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
a  nation.  A  realm  gains  more  by  one  year's  peace  than  by  ten  years* 
war."  Guided  by  these  maxims  he  maintained  England  in  a  state  of 
tranquillity,  while  the  continental  states  and  Scotland  were  involved  in 
wars  and  intestine  convulsions.  We  have  already,  in  different  me- 
moirs, adverted  to  the  many  difficulties  with  which  Cecil  was  occasion- 
ally called  to  contend  in  his  system  of  foreign  policy.  Surrounded 
by  high  and  gallant  spirits  who  thirsted  for  the  achievements  of  the  field 
and  the  renown  of  martial  enterprize,  it  was  no  easy  task  for  him,  even 
aided  by  his  prudent  sovereign,  to  save  the  nation  from  being  plunged 
into  wars  which,  however  redolent  of  military  glory,  would  have  re* 
dounded  little  to  the  ultimate  welfare  and  the  social  security  of  the 
country  at  large.  Yet  he  succeeded  in  the  difficult  task,  and  through- 
out the  struggle  which  the  Low  countries  maintained  with  the  bigotted 
Philip,  and  the  civil  wars  of  France,  England  pursued  a  line  of  policy 
at  once  pacific  and  dexterous,  which,  while  it  sufficiently  vindicated  the 

'  Many  of  them  ftili  remaiii  in  manuscript,  but  Strype  has  published  several  of  thenk 

Pbhiob.]  CECIL,  LOBD  BUBLEI6H.  127 

mrtional  honour,  effectually  prevented  a  collision  betwixt  the  catholic 
and  protectant  porties  at  home»  and,  perhi^M  in  the  main,  proved  as 
beneficial  to  the  oppressed  protestant  party  abroad  as  the  more  active 
and  decided  interference  of  England  in  their  behalf  could  have  done. 
We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  on  Elisabeth's  policy  towards  Scotland 
in  other  memoirs.  It  is  very  difficult  to  determine  how  much  of  Eliza- 
beth's condnct  towards  the  unfortunate  Mary  was  dictated  by  personal 
jealoui^, — how  much  by  the  advice  of  Cecil  and  other  ministen.  Cecil 
certainly  regarded  Mary  as  the  most  dangerous  enemy  of  his  sovereign 
and  the  protestant  religion,  and  considei^  her  liberty  as  incompatible 
with  the  safety  of  either.  The  partisans  of  Norfolk  also  esteemed  him 
the  main  cause  of  their  leader's  death.  Eliiabeth,  with  that  selfishness 
which  always  marked  her  character,  did  not  hesitate  to  attempt  to  shift 
the  odium  of  both  Mary's  and  Norfolk's  execution  from  herse^  to  Cecil. 
But  still  there  is  no  historical  evidence  of  his  having  laboured  to  ac- 
complish the  death  of  either  of  these  personages  with  greater  assiduity 
than  his  other  colleagucb  in  office ;  and  Eliiabeth's  subsequent  conduct 
sufficiently  evinces  how  unshaken  was  the  confidence  she  reposed  in  her 
favourite  minister,  notwithstanding  all  that  she  affected  to  believe 
against  him.  We  have  seen  how  resolutely  she  interfered  to  rescue 
him  from  Leicester's  intrigue  for  his  fell ;  and  on  many  other  occasions 
she  gave  evidence  that  her  favourite  minister  was  no  more  to  be  im- 
peached by  others  with  impunity  than  herself.  Yet  Cecils  rewards 
were  by  no  means  extraordinar}%  The  highest  title  he  ever  obtained 
was  that  of  baron ;  and  his  official  promotions  were  always  of  a  kind 
which  brought  additional  business  along  with  them. 

To  perform  the  various  duties  of  the  different  situations  occupied  by 
this  statesman  required  no  common  talents  and  no  ordinary  indus- 
try, and  nothing  was  niore  remarkable  in  Lord  Burleigh  than  his 
unremitting  diligence.  His  occupations  were  manifold,  but  by  steadily 
adhering  to  his  &vourite  maxim,  that  *<  the  shortest  way  to  do  many 
things  is  to  do  one  thing  at  once,"  he  got  through  his  duties  in  a  satis- 
factory manner,  without  either  hurry  or  confusion.  One  of  his  con- 
temporaries has  declared  that  during  a  period  of  twenty-four  years  he 
never  saw  him  idle  for  half  an  hour  together.  Even  when  labouring 
under  severe  pain  from  gout,  he  would  make  himself  be  carried  to  bis 
office  for  the  despatch  of  business.  In  his  court — like  one  of  our  own 
times  whom  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  here  to  name — ^he  is  said  to  have 
expedited  more  causes  in  one  term  than  his  predecessors  had  been 
accustomed  to  get  through  in  a  twelvemonth ;  and  notwithstanding  the 
multiplicity  of  business  which  pressed  upon  him,  no  one  could  ever  say 
of  him  that  he  had  dbregarded  a  reasonable  application  for  law,  justice, 
or  advice  in  any  matter.  To  have  witnessed  the  minuteness  and  accuracy 
of  his  arrangements  for  the  discharge  of  his  judicial  duties,  one  would 
have  supposed  him  entirely  devoted  to  these,  and  to  domestic  policy ; 
but  he  was  equally  indefatigable  in  foreign  affairs, — no  plot  escaped  his 
vigilance,  whether  hatched  in  the  Spanish  cabinet  or  in  the  chamber  of 
the  king  of  France, — ^the  movements  of  England's  enemies  were  known 
to  him  as  soon  as  concerted, — and  yet  he  himself  remained  impenetrable 
to  the  numerous  and  dexterous  spies  which  surrounded  him.  There  is 
little  doubt  that  he  employed  a  more  extensive  system  of  espionage  than 
is  accordant  with  more  modern  views  of  political  integrity:  but  the  spiiit 


and  circumsfaDces  of  the  times  rendered  something  of  the  kind  almost 
indispensable  to  the  minister  who  desired  to  be  early  and  accurately 
informed  of  the  state  of  parties  within  his  circle  of  operations. 

In  his  own  domestic  economy,  Burleigh,  with  all  his  simple  personal 
habits,  was  magnificent  even  to  profusion.  The  state  of  society  at  the 
time  demanded  this.  Yet  he  not  only  died  unencumbered  with  debt,  but 
left,  besides  £11,000  in  money,  £4,000  a  year  in  lands  to  his  heirs. 

Burleigh  remained  in  office  for  a  period  almost  unexampled  in  the 
history  of  courts.  Yet  he  was  by  no  means  avaricious  of  power,  and 
ambition  seems  never  to  have  been  once  awakened  in  his  breast  He 
aimed  at  doing  his  duty  in  the  successive  stations  to  which  he  was 
raised  without  solicitation  on^is  part — and  his  notions  of  duty,  it  must  be 
granted,  were  of  no  extraordinary  kind — but  beyond  this  he  attempted 
nothing  more.  He  was  in  fact  a  lover  of  retirement,  and  derived  little 
personal  satisfaction  from  the  glitter  and  bustle  of  a  court.  Within  a 
very  few  years  after  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  we  find  him  expressing 
a  desire  to  quit  a  station  in  which  he  enjoyed  so  little  repose ;  and  at 
different  times  he  solicited  the  queen  with  unaffected  earnestness  to 
accept  of  his  resignation.  But  Elizabeth  knew  his  worth  too  well  to 
part  with  him  easily,  and  even  did  not  hesitate  to  descend  from  the 
stateliness  of  royalty,  and  indulge  in  such  playful  familiarities  with  her 
minister,  as  attached  him  more  strongly  to  her  person,  and  made  him  for 
a  season  abandon  his  views  of  retirement. 

In  private  life,  Burleigh  was  simple  and  domestic.  He  delighted  in 
the  society  of  his  family ;  and  in  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Anthony 
Cooke,  he  possessed  during  their  union  of  forty-three  years,  a  companion 
every  way  fitted  to  enhance  the  sweets  of  domestic  life  to  him.  At  his 
own  table  he  was  often  jocose  and  sportive,  and  gave  himself  up  to  a 
moderate  but  genial  hilarity ;  but  conversation,  in  which  he  excelled, 
was  the  chief  pleasure  he  enjoyed  at  the  festive  board,  for  he  ate  and 
drank  sparingly.  The  principal  scene  of  his  amusements  was  his  seat 
at  Theobald's  near  London.  Here  he  used  to  retire  as  often  as  he 
could  snatch  an  interval  of  leisure  from  his  public  duties,  and  would 
amuse  and  recreate  himself  by  riding  up  and  down  the  walks  on  his 
mule  and  overlooking  the  sports  of  his  young  retainers ;  but  he  never 
joined  in  any  diversions  himself.  His  piety  was  unostentatious  and 
sincere ;  and  he  used  to  say  that  he  trusted  no  man  who  was  not  re« 
ligious,  "  for  he  that  is  false  to  God  can  never  be  true  to  man." 

This  able  and  politic  minister  died  on  the  4th  of  August,  1598,  in 
the  78th  year  of  his  age.  His  royal  mistress  visited  him  on  his  death- 
bed, and  his  power  passed  with  little  diminution  to  a  son  who  inherited 
his  abilities.  His  life  has  furnished  a  theme  for  several  pens,  and 
has  been  recently  expanded  into  three  large  quarto  volumes,  by  Dr 
Nares,  regiuo  professor  of  modem  history  in  the  university  of  Oxford. 

Uobtvt  ^thtvtttXy  C^arl  of  fSsmtx. 

BORN  A.  D.  1567. — DIED  A.  D.   1601. 

This  nobleman,  whose  fortunes  are  so  intimately  blended  with  the 
military  and  personal  history  of  Queen  Elizabeth^  was  bom  at  Nether- 


wood,  Herts,  in  1567.  His  hther  was  Walter,  earl  of  Essex,  who  had 
been  advanced  by  that  princess  to  the  earldom,  and  the  order  of  the  Garter. 
His  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Sir  Francis  Knout's,  and  a  cousin  of  the 
queen.  The  youth,  at  his  father  s  death,  being  but  ten  years  of*  age, 
his  affairs  were  managed  by  an  agent  of  Burleigh's  of  the  name  ol 
Edward  Waterfaouse,  who,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  Sir  Henry  Sidney 
shortly  after  the  death  of  Essex,  represents  the  son  as  favoured  and 
supported  by  the  queen  and  nobles.  The  earl  was  educated,  under 
Dr  Whitgif]^  at  Trinity  college,  Cambridge ;  and,  although  at  an  ear« 
licr  period  of  hb  life,  he  had  appeared  to  be  slow  in  scholarship,  he  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  that  university,  and  took  the  degree  of  master  of 
arts  in  1582.  Leaving  college,  he  retired  to  a  residence  at  Lambsie, 
in  Wales ;  but,  in  1584,  when  in  the  seventeenth  year  of  his  age,  wa^ 
introduced  at  court.  Having  attended  his  relative,  the  earl  of  Leices- 
ter,  to  Holland,  in  1586,  he  fought  at  the  battle  of  Zutphen,  memorable 
for  the  death  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  between  whom  and  a  sister  of  Essex 
ft  had  been  proposed  that  a  marriage  should  be  formed*  The  young 
earl  distinguished  himself  upon  this  occasion,  and  was  created  a  knight- 
banneret.  In  1587,  he  succeeded  Leicester  as  master  of  the  horse ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  the  active  pr^arations  which  were  made  against 
Spain,  when,  in  1588,  that  country  threatened  the  invasion  of  England, 
he  was  made  general  of  the  horse,  besides  being  invested  with  the  or- 
der of  the  garter.  On  the  death  of  Leicester,  in  the  same  year,  he  be- 
came head  of  the  party  at  court  which  had  been  led  by  that  unworthy 
fovourite,  of  whom  he  seemed  also  to  prove  the  successor  in  the  affec- 
tions of  Elizabeth.  Of  this  attachment,  his  chivalrous  character,  as 
well  as  his  beautiful  person,  may  have  been  in  some  degree  the  cause 
— but,  on  one  occasion,  the  very  ardour  of  his  chivalry  seems  to  have 
lost  him  the  favour  of  the  queen.  For,  in  1589,  he  left  the  court  with- 
out her  permission,  and  attached  himself  to  an  expedition  against  Por- 
tugal, undertaken  by  Sir  Francis  Drake  and  Sir  John  Norrls — on 
which  she  forthwith  despatched  the  earl  of  Huntingdon  with  an  injunction 
for  his  return.  But  he  had  sailed  ftom  Plymouth  before  Huntingdon's 
arrival,  and,  in  ignorance  of  her  wish,  or  in  disobedience  to  her  order, 
he  continued  in  his  enterprise.  Having  reached  Portugal,  he  served 
in  that  country  as  a  volunteer,  and,  at  Lisbon,  challenged  the  govei- 
nor,  or  any  other  of  like  rank,  to  single  combat.  He  was  commended 
for  his  gallantry  in  this  campaign,  and  received  forgiveness  of  the 

The  office  of  Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  principal  secretary  of  state^ 
becoming  vacant,  by  his  death  in  1590,  Essex  endeavoured  to  secure 
it  for  Davison,  who,  by  the  part  he  took  in  the  execution  of  the 
queen  of  Scots,  had  forfeited  the  royal  favour.  Lord  Burleigh,  on  the 
other  hand,  sought  the  office  for  his  son,  Robert  Cecil,  and  this  is  giv- 
en as  the  first  occasion  on  which  decided  evidences  of  mutual  opposi- 
tion between  the  family  of  Cecil  and  the  earl  appear.  It  seems  proba- 
ble, however,  that  real  friendship  for  Davison  dictated  the  exertions 
which  Essex  made  in  his  behalf,  as  recorded  in  his  correspondence 
with  that  unfortunate  man  between  the  years  1587  and  1590.  In  his 
suit  to  Elizabeth,  Essex  proved  unsuccessful,  and,  in  1590,  he  himself 
fell  under  her  displeasure  by  privately  marrying  the  widow  of  Sir 
Philip  Sidney.     In  the  following  year,  however,  when  the  queen  was 

II.  R 

130  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foubth 

engaged  in  aMkting  Henry  IV.  of  France  against  the  Spanish  power, 
Essex  was  sent  to  Normandy  at  the  head  of  4000  men.     Contrary  to 
his  inclination^  he  lay  for  some  time  at  Dieppe,  \rithout  engaging  iu 
military  enterprise,  but  he  took  a  part  in  the  siege  of  Rouen.     On  this 
occasion,  he  lost,  by  a  musket-shot,  a  fayourite  brother,  Walter  Deve- 
rcux— '  the  half-arch  of  his  house,'  to  use  his  own  beautiful  expres- 
sion ; '  and  notwithstanding  a  challenge  which  he  sent  to  the  governor 
of  Rouen,  and  the  dbplay  of  courage  which  he  gave,  he  gained,  on 
I  his  expedition,  no  signal  victory.     He  offended  the  queen  too  by  the 
profusion  with  which  he  conferred  knighthood  on  the  officers.     On  his 
return,  however,  early  in  1592,  he  was  favourably  received,  and   was 
soon  ailerwards  admitted  into  the  privy-council.    At  court  he  headed  a 
party  in  opposition  to  that  of  Robert  Cecil.     This  period  of  his   life 
is  marked  by  one  or  two  circumstances  which  it  might  be  unjust  to 
overlook;    although,  considering  the  political  relations  in  which   he 
stood,  it  may  be  impossible  to  say  that  his  acts  of  kindness  were  alto- 
gether free  from  less  honourable  feelings.     In   1592,  he  endeavoured 
to  procure  for  Francis  Bacon,  then  a  young  man,  the  office  of  attorney- 
general;  and,  aflei*wards,  he  sought  that  of  solicitor-general  for  the 
same  individual — the  glory  and  dishonour  of  the  age.      The   *  raw 
ybiith,'  as  Bacon,  on  the  former  of  these  occasions,  was  styled  by 
Robert  Cecil,  was  in  both  cases  unsuccessful,  the  queen  recollecting 
the  opposition  he  had  made  to  her  in  parliament,  how  disposed  soever 
she  might  otherwise  have  been  to  gratify  her  favourite  and  secure  the 
services  of  Bacon.     Anthony,  too,  the  brother  of  Francis  Bacon,  re- 
ceived the  patronage  of  Essex,  who  furnished  him,  in  1595^  with  apart- 
ments in  Essex-house,  as  he  also  presented  Francis  with  an  estate. 
Another  circumstance  that  may  be  mentioned,  is  the  exposure  of  a 
plot  against  the  life  of  Elizabeth,  carried  on  by  Roderigo  Lopez,  a  physi- 
cian of  the  queen,  who  was  brought  to  justice  by  the  persevering  exer- 
tions of  the  earl.     Sir  Robert  Cecil  informed  the  queen,  that,  after  in- 
quiry, the  charge  had  not  been  established,  and  Elizabeth  rebuked  the 
earl  for  rashness  in  bringing  against  a  poor  man  an  accusation  which 
he  could  not  make  good.     But  the  investigation  was  renewed,  and 
Lopez,  being  convicted,  suffered  execution.     In  the  same  year,  Essex 
begged  to  be  appointed  commander  of  the  land  forces  sent  out  with  Sir 
Francis  Drake  and  Sir  John   Hawkins,  against  the   Spanish  colonies. 
But  the  queen  declared,  that  she  loved  him  and  her  kingdom  too  well 
to  hazard  his  safety  in  such  an  enterprise,  and  presented  him  with 

From  court,  however,  we  have  now  to  follow  him  on  another  war- 
like expedition.  Lord  Howard,  of  Effingham,  joined  the  earl  in  urg- 
ing the  queen  to  renew  hostilities  with  Spain.  Elizabeth  followed  the 
advice,  and,  in  1596,  Essex  was  appointed  general  of  the  land  forces 
In  Philip  of  Spain  his  martial  ardour  found  an  enemy  congenial  to  it- 
self, and  he  is  said  even  to  have  given  Elizabeth  offence  by  his  accus- 
tomed expression — "  I  will  make  that  proud  king  know !"  He  set  ont, 
however,  with  tokens  of  her  regard,  accompanied  by  Lord  Howard  of 
Effingham  as  lord-admiral.  They  were  attended  by  a  council  of  war, 
consisting  of  Lord  Thomas  Howard,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Sir  Francis 

'  Apology  of  the  £ari  oi  Essex. 


Vere,  Sir  Geoi^  Carew,  and  Sir  Conyers  ClifTord.  The  fleet  sailed 
oil  the  1st  of  June,  1596,  and  proceeded  to  Cadiz,  where  they  arrived 
on  the  1st  of  July.  It  was  proposed,  in  the  first  place,  to  land  thf> 
troops  on  shore,  and  Essex  was  proceeding  to  do  so,  when  Raleigh  ro« 
commended  to  him  that  an  attack  should  be  made  on  the  vessels  lying 
in  the  bay.  This  proposal  the  enthusiastic  spirit  of  Essex  led  him  to 
support,  and  when  Raleigh  returned,  signifying,  by  the  cry  of  Entra* 
mos^  that  the  proposal  had  been  acceded  to,  the  earl,  in  the  ardour  of 
his  satisfaction,  threw  his  hat  into  the  sea.  He  was  informed,  however, 
that  the  queen,  in  her  concern  for  his  safety,  had  given  orders  that  he 
should  not  be  allowed  to  lead  the  van,  and  he  promised  to  keep  him* 
self  in  a  place  of  greater  safety.  But  this  timid  policy  ill  suited^  the 
spirit  of  the  earl.  On  the  fleet  coming  into  action  with  the  enemy,  he 
rushed  on  to  the  heat  of  the  encounter.  The  enemy's  ships  gave  way, 
and  Essex  proceeded  to  land  his  troops  near  Puntal,  leading  the  way 
himself,  accompanied  by  Vere.  This  done,  he  proceeded  to  make  an 
attack  on  Cadiz.  The  earl,  who  seems  to  have  followed  the  sage  ad- 
vice of  Vere,  prov:;d  successful,  and  it  is  recorded  to  hisi  honour,  that 
he  stayed  the  slaughter,  and  treated  the  prisoners  with  kindness.  The 
English,  however,  plundered  the  city.  It  Is  recorded  that  Essex  ofier* 
ed  to  defend  it,  wiUi  four  hundred  men  and  provisions  for  three  months, 
until  English  succour  should  arrive.  The  proposal  to  defend  Cadiz  is 
thought,  by  a  recent  biographer  of  Vere,'  to  have  been  suggested  by 
that  officer — but,  if  it  was  so,  still  the  suspicion  which  may  thus  be 
thrown  on  the  originality  of  the  earl,  in  regard  to  the  suggestion,  is  not 
inconsistent  with  the  fact  of  his  adopting  it.  This  proposal,  however, 
as  well  as  others  characteristic  of  the  gallant,  perhaps  too  adventurous 
Essex,  was  opposed  by  his  companions ;  and,  on  his  return  home,  in 
August,  he  published  an  account  of  the  expedition,  **  wherein,"  says 
Dr  Campbell,'  *'  as  Mr  Oldys  well  observes,  and  therein  censures  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  the  earl  blames  every  body's  conduct  but  his  own."  ^ 

During  the  absence  of  Essex,  his  character  had  been  aspersed  by 
Lord  Brooke,  and  by  others  who  looked  on  him  with  coldness  or  hos- 
tility of  feeling.  The  queen,  on  her  part,  blamed  him  for  being  so  li- 
beral in  distributing  the  prize-money.  About  the  same  time,  his  mar- 
tial zeal  and  open  character  drew  from  Francis  Bacon  a  very  curious 
letter,  recommending  to  him  a  hypocrisy  not  very  consistent,  perhaps, 
with  the  character  of  Essex.  But,  early  in  1597,  a  reconciliation  was 
effected  between  the  earl  and  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  by  means  of  Sir  Wal- 
ter Raleigh.  The  same  year,  Essex  commanded  a  squadron  against 
the  Spaniards.  On  the  way,  his  squadron  was  separated  from  another 
led  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  who  arrived  sooner  than  his  companion  at 
Fayal,  which  Essex  had  expressed  an  intention  of  attacking.  The 
earl  had  been  appointed  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  forces  employed 
in  the  expedition,  but  Sir  Walter,  afler  waiting  a  few  days  for  Essex's 
arrival  at  Faya],  the  inhabitants  of  which  were  preparing  for  defence, 
commenced  a  successful  attack  on  the  island.     The  earl  testified  great 

'  Rev,  Mr  Gleig — Live$  of  British  Commanders,  toI.  i.    See  also  Fere^s  Commentaries. 

*  Livds  of  the  British  Admirals. 
^   *  In  this  expedition,  a  library  belonging  to  Osorius,  a  Portuguese  bishop,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Essex,  who  gave  it  uo  the  library  fbunded  by  his  friend,  Sir  Thomas  Bodley^ 
in  1597. 

133  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

disMtisfaction  with  the  conduct  of  Raleigh,  who,  he  seems  to  have  felt, 
had  deprived  him  of  the  honour  of  the  triumph.  He  also  treated  with 
nererity  certau  officers  who  had  concurred  in  the  measure.  But  he 
again  received  Raleigh  into  fiivour,  at  the  solicitation  of  Lord  Thomas 
Howard.  Sir  William  Monson  imagines  that  he  was  afraid  of  being  call- 
ed to  account  in  England,  should  he  have  dealt  hardly  with  the  vic- 
torious captain.  Essex  proceeded  to  Graciosa,  which  submitted.  But 
leaving  this,  the  English  fleet  suffered  about  forty  ships  of  the  Spaniiu^ 
to  escape  them.  This  untoward  circumstance  is  attributed,  by  Sir 
William  Monson,  who  was  himself  in  the  English  fleet,  to  a  want  of  ex- 
perience and  skill  on  the  part  of  Essex.^  Three  ships,  however,  were 
taken,  the  wealth  of  which,  amounting,  it  is  said,  to  £100,000,  went 
far  to  compensate  for  the  expenses  of  the  outfit  and  the  voyage. 
Essex  also  plundered  the  town  of  Villa  Franca.  The  English  fleet, 
after  suffering  severely  from  stormy  weather,  which  also  prevented  a 
meditated  invasion  of  England  by  the  Spanish  ships,  reached  the  Eng- 
lish coast  in  October.  The  queen  expressed  dissatis&ction  with  the 
favourite ;  anci  it  must  be  granted  that  the  part  which  Essex  had  borne 
in  the  expedition  was  not  a  very  glorious  one.  That  his  failure  to  in- 
tercept the  Spanish  galleons  was  an  act  of  weakness,  and  his  resent- 
ment at  Raleigh  for  his  successful  attack  on  Fayal,  an  act  of  selfish- 
ness, we  shall  not  deny.  Yet,  after  all,  we  do  not  see  suflicient  evi- 
dence in  the  latter  circumstance,  or  in  any  other  part  of  the  life  of 
Essex,  to  infer,  with  Dr  Campbell,^  that  "  the  earl  had  no  view  but  to 
his  own  particular  glory,  and  that  the  public  service  was  to  be  post- 
poned whenever  it  came  in  competition  therewith."  Along  with  the 
sense  of  having  failed  in  this  enteiprise,  or  of  being  considered  to  have 
done  so,  Essex,  on  his  return  to  England,  had  the  additional  mortifica- 
tion of  appearing  to  be  robbed  of  the  laurels  attending  the  victory  at 
Cadiz.  He  found  that  Elizabeth  had  issued  a  patent,  conferring  ou 
the  lord-high-admiral  the  title  of  earl  of  Northampton,  on  the  alleged 
ground  of  his  success  at  that  capital.  Essex,  who  claimed  for  himself 
the  honour  of  that  success,  retired  to  Wanstead,  pretending,  it  seems, 
to  be  sick,  according  to  what  appears  to  have  been  a  customary  mode, 
in  these  times,  of  taking  shelter  from  public  mortification,  or  of  suing 
for  royal  favour.  The  queen  was  moved,  and,  in  December,  1597, 
created  him  earl-marshall.  She  also  presented  him  with  the  sum  of 

The  summer  of  1598,  however,  involved  the  earl  in  a  double  quarrel. 
Urging  the  continuance  of  the  war  with  Spain,  in  opposition  to  the 
advice  of  the  venerable  Burleigh,  he  was  charged  by  that  minister  with 
being  inclined  to  bloodshed.  Burleigh  even  used  the  freedom  of  point- 
ing, in  a  prayer-book,  to  the  words,  "  Blood-thirsty  men  shall  not  live 
out  half  of  their  days."  Whether  the  charge  was  just  is  a  question  to 
which  it  might  be  an  unsatisfactory  task  to  return  an  answer.  Its  truth 
is  denied  in  "  an  Apology  of  the  Eai'l  of  Essex  against  those  who  jea- 
lously and  maliciously  tax  him  as  the  Hinderer  of  the  Peace  and  Quiet 
of  his  Country,"  a  document  which  was  published  in  1603,  after  the 
death  of  the  Earl,  and  which,  although  long  attributed  to  Francis  Bacon, 
has  been  argued,  from  its  dissimilarity  to  Bacon's  writings,  and  its  re- 

»  Monson's  Naval  Tracts.     Campbeira  Lives  of  the  Briiiah  Admirals. 

*  LiTes  of  the  British  Admirals. 


sembiaDce  to  the  acknowledged  works  of  Essex,  to  be  the  composition 
of  the  Earl  himself.^  In  the  course  of  the  same  summer  Essex  had  a 
serious  quarrel  with  the  queen.  Differing  with  her,  on  one  occasion, 
about  the  appointment  of  a  governor  for  Ireland,  he  turned  his  back 
upon  her  majesty,  on  which  the  high-spirited  princess  gave  him  a  blow 
on  the  ear,  and  bade  him  ^*  go  and  be  hanged."  Clapping  his  hand  on 
Uis  sword,  he  swore  that  not  from  her  father  himself  would  he  bear  such 
treatment,  and  forthwith  left  the  palace.  Egerton,  the  lord-keeper,  ad- 
vised him  to  submit,  and  seek  forgiveness  of  the  queen.  But  this  he 
declined  to  do,  in  a  letter  remarkable  for  the  warmth  of  its  spirit,  and 
the  beauty  of  its  diction. 

After  months  of  retirement  firom  court,  the  breach  between  Elizabeth 
and  Essex  was  so  far  healed  as  to  admit  of  his  return,  although,  indeed, 
Camden  remarks,  that  the  earl's  overthrow  was  traced  by  his  friends  to 
this  unfortunate  quarrel.  In  August  1598,  during  the  period  of  the 
earl's  disgrace.  Lord  Burleigh  died!  Essex  succeeded  him  as  chancel- 
lor of  Cambridge ;  and,  before  the  close  of  tlie  year,  he  had  received 
another  appointment,  intimately  connected  with  the  closing  fortunes  of 
his  life.  Having  objected  to  the  proposal  that  Lord  Mountjoy  should 
be  constituted  lord-deputy  of  Ireland — ^thus  intimating,  it  is  supposed, 
an  inclination  to  accept  of  the  ofHce  for  himself — ^he  was  appointed  by 
the  queen  to  that  critical  post.  In  that  misgoverned  country  a  rebellion 
had  been  raised,  headed  by  Hugh  O'Neale,  whom  the  queen  had  created 
Earl  of  Tyrone,  against  whom  Sir  John  Norris  and  Sir  Henry  Bagnal 
had  proved  unsuccessfuL  It  was  in  these  circumstances  that,  with  the 
view  of  vigorously  prosecuting  the  Irish  war,  Essex  was  appointed.  He 
himself  objected  to  undertake  the  situation,  except  on  certain  conditions 
unacceptable  to  the  queen.  His  friends,  however,  in  lofty  terms  com- 
mended his  talents ;  and  his  enemies — ^from  hostile  feelings,  it  has  not 
without  reason  been  supposed — concurred  in  the  eulogiums.  At  last, 
in  March  1599,  with  the  tender  farewell  of  the  queen,  and  with  the  ac- 
clamations of  the  people,  he  set  out  for  Ireland.  His  army  consisted  of 
20,000  foot,  and  1300  horse,  and  he  was  attended  by  a  large  train  of 
gentlemen  and  nobles.  His  first  act,  after  his  arriving  in  Dublin,  was  to 
appoint  his  friend,  the  earl  of  Southampton,  general  of  the  horse.  This 
was  contrary  to  the  will  of  Elizabeth,  who,  on  hearing  of  the  appoint- 
ment enjoined  her  commander  to  recall  it.  Essex  unsuccessfully  at- 
tempted, by  a  statement  of  reasons,  to  satisfy  her  on  the  subject. 
Another  cause  of  offence  to  Elizabeth  was  the  conduct  of  the  war. 
For,  notwithstanding  Essex's  own  objections  to  the  inefficient  manner 
in  which  measures  had  previously  been  pursued  against  the  rebels,  he 
was  induced,  by  advice,  respecting  the  uusuitableness  of  the  season  for 
marching  against  the  rebels  in  Ulster,  to  make  a  previous  attempt,  in 
opposition  to  a  slighter  insurrection  in  another  district  of  the  country  ; 
and  when,  after  receiving  from  England  an  addition  of  2000  foot,  he 
proceeded,  late  in  the  season,  against  the  Ulster  rebels,  his  army, 
wasted  by  disease,  was  miserably  reduced  in  number,  and  many  of  the 
soldiers  deserted*  On  coming  into  contact  with  the  rebels,  there  war  a 
little  fighting ;  bat,  on  Tyrone  requesting  a  parley,  Essex  granted  it, 
and  met  him  on  the  bank  of  the  ford  of  Bally  clinch,  in  the  midst  o/ 

'  Cdmljuu  Trials.    /  Lib.  mf  BtUertainiiuf  Knowkdgt,)  vol.  i.  p  298. 

134  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Foubth 

which  the  Irish  chieftain  8at»  mounted  on  his  horse.  The  result  of  the 
conference  was  a  truce,  which  was  to  be  renewed  at  intervals  of  sis 
weeksy  but  might  be  broken  off  by  a  fortnight's  warning  hrom  either  pai  ty. 
There  seems  also  to  have  been  a  correspondence  with  Tyrone  little 
creditable  to  the  fidelity  of  Essex,  who,  attended  by  several  of  his  offi- 
cers, held  a  second  conference  with  the  rebel  chief.  Now,  however, 
having  seen  visible  signs  of  danger  to  his  interests  in  England,  from  the 
real  or  apprehended  aspersions  of  his  enemies,  he  suddenly  betook  him- 
self from  his  army,  without  her  majesty's  permission,  attended  by  his 
household,  and  certain  of  his  officers,  leaving  the  government  of  Ireland 
to  the  archbishop  of  Dublin  and  Sir  George  Carew.  It  appears  that 
be  had  even  had  some  design  of  carrying  along  with  him  a  considerable 
part  of  bis  troops,  with  a  view  to  alarm  his  enemies  at  home.  On  reach- 
ing Nonsuch,  where  at  that  time  Elizabeth  held  her  court,  he  hurried  up 
stairs,  and  advanced  to  the  chamber  of  the  queen.  Though  she  was 
not  yet  completely  dressed,  he  fell  before  her  on  his  knees,  and  kissed 
her  hand.  She  received  him  graciously,  and,  at  a  second  interview,  he 
met  with  a  similar  reception.  But  there  were  some  who  seem  to  have 
looked  on  him  with  other  eyes ;  among  these  was  Sir  Robert  Cecil.  In 
the  evening  of  this  very  day,  he  appeared  to  have  lost  the  favour  of  the 
queen.  She  asked  an  explanation  of  his  conduct  in  returning ;  and  he 
was  appointed  to  be  examined  that  very  night  by  several  privy-coun- 
cillors. Next  day  there  was  a  general  meeting  of  the  council,  before 
whom  he  was  accused  of  presumption  in  his  correspondence,  disobe- 
dience in  his  conduct  of  the  war,  extravagance  in  the  distribution  of 
knighthood,  contempt  and  rashness  in  returning,  and  unseemly  boldness 
in  intruding  into  the  chamber  of  the  queen.'  The  earl,  who  had  pre- 
viously been  commanded  to  remain  in  his  chamber,  calmly  answered 
the  charges.  On  the  2d  of  October,  however,  he  was  forbidden  to  at- 
tend at  court,  and  intrusted  to  the  lord-keeper.  On  the  severity  with, 
which  he  was  treated,  there  seemed  at  length  to  dawn  some  hopo  of 
royal  favour.  But  a  contrary  effect  was  produced,  when  a  letter  from 
Tyrone  was  intercepted,  representing  the  impossibility  of  inducing  his 
comrades  to  acquiesce  in  the  terms  of  truce  to  which  he  and  Essex  had 
agreed.  The  queen  was  incensed,  and,  notwithstanding  the  remon- 
strances of  the  council,  the  humble  intercessions  of  the  earl,  and  the 
faithful  support  of  Lady  Scrope — of  whom  Whyte  remarks,  that  she 
suffered  much  from  Elizabeth  on  account  of  her  endeavours  to  prevail 
with  her  on  behalf  of  Essex — ^the  haughty  princess  declined  to  release 
him.  At  length,  however,  a  sickness  under  which  he  laboured  seemed 
to  move  her.  She  gave  him  liberty  to  see  a  few  friends,  and  to  walk  in 
the  garden ;  and,  on  one  occasion,  she  directed  eight  physicians  to  hold 
a  consultation  on  his  case.  Their  report  being  very  unfavourable,  she 
sent  a  kind  message,  declaring,  that  if  it  were  honourable  she  would 
visit  him.  But  this  seems  to  have  been  rather  a  tit  of  compassion, 
started  by  a  mournful  and  critical  occasion,  than  the  renewed  approba- 
tion of  offended  majesty.  In  course  of  time,  even  his  wife  was  prevent* 
ed  from  paying  him  a  daily  visit.  In  March  1600,  however,  he  was 
allowed  to  remove  to  his  own  dwelling,  under  the  charge  of  the  lord- 
keeper,  for  which  act  of  clemency  he  presented  submissive  acknowledg- 

At  length,  eighteen  commissioners  from  the  privy  council  were  ap« 


pointed  for  the  consideration  of  his  cause,  which  came  before  them  on 
the  5th  of  June,  1600.  The  charges  having  been  brought  forward  by 
the  crown-lawyers,  including  Francis  Bacon,  of  whom  the  earl  had 
formerly  been  the  munificent  benefactor,  the  latter  on  his  knees  de- 
livered a  defence,  in  which,  besides  acknowledging  his  misconduct,  he 
apologized  for  certain  of  his  measures.  The  discourse  is  said  to  have 
drawn  tears  from  many  of  the  councillors,  but  they  unanimously  agreed 
that  he  should  not  continue  to  act  as  privy-councillor,  earl-marshal,  or 
master  of  the  ordnance,  and  should  remain  in  his  own  house  until  the 
queen  should  be  pleased  to  remit  the  penalty.  In  August  Be  was  fireed 
from  imprisonment,  but  was  stUl  prohibited  from  attending  court.  He 
expressed  an  intention  of  living  in  retirement,  but  also  a  wish  to  be 
allowed  to  kiss  the  queen's  hand, — a  privilege,  however,  that  was  not 
afforded  him.  She  also  refused  to  renew  a  grant  which  he  enjoyed  of 
a  monopoly  of  sweet  wines.  In  making  the  request  that  she  would  do 
so,  he  declared,  that,  until  his  restoration  to  her  favour,  he  meant  to 
resemble  the  king,  whose  habitation  was  with  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
who  ate  hay  like  an  ox,  and  was  wet  with  the  dews  of  heaven.  She 
replied  that  she  was  glad  to  find  him  in  such  a  proper  temper,  and  that 
she  hoped  his  actions  would  correspond  to  his  professions,  but,  in  re- 
ference to  his  request  to  have  the  sweet  wine  monopoly  renewed,  ob- 
served, that  an  unmanageable  beast  must  be  stinted  of  his  provender. 
It  is  scarcely  wonderful  that  Essex  should  at  last  have  broken  out  in 
rude  expressions  respecting  the  queen,  declaring,  as  he  is  reported  to 
have  done,  that  her  mind  was  become  as  crooked  as  her  carcase, — an 
insult  which,  if  really  reported  to  her,  as  it  it  is  said  to  have  been,  may 
be  supposed  to  have  been  little  fitted  to  pacify  her  ofiended  majesty^ 
At  Essex-house,  an  open  table  was  kept,  and  sermons  were  .delivered 
by  puritans,  to  which  the  citizens  were  admitted.  These  arrangements, 
too,  were  probably  displeasing  to  the  queen.  But,  unfortunately,  the  earl 
was  urged  into  more  desperate  schemes.  Sjr  John  Harrington,  who 
had  attended  him  to  Ireland,  and  received  from  him  the  honour  ot 
knighthood,  was  now  induced  to  leave  him,  according  to  his  own  ac- 
count, by  the  violent  conduct  he  displayed.  Harrington  states  that  he 
spoke  most  unwisely  of  the  queen,  grounding  on.  the  case  of  his  un- 
fortunate patron,  the  conclusion,  Uiat  dbappointed  ambition  quick- 
ly induces  madness, — ^  a  weighty  and  monitory  lesson,  if  it  '  find  fit 
audience'  of  the  tumultuous  aspirant  af^er  power,  and  of  the  restless 
dependent  on  his  prince's  favour, — ^the  Tantalus  of  the  court.  Besides 
corresponding  with  James  VI.  of  Scotland,  against  the  party  of  Cecil, 
which  he  represented  as  inclined  to  support  a  Spanish  right  to  the  Eng- 
lish throne  in  preference  to  that  of  James,  and  also  with  Lord  Mount- 
joy,  his  successor  as  lord-deputy  in  Ireland,  whom  he  sought  to  in- 
duce to  bring  over  troops,  the  earl  co-operated  with  a  council  of  six 
of  his  friends  at  Drury-house,  respecting  the  carrying  into  efiect  of 
an  attempt  against  his  enemies.  In  the  course  of  these  preparatory 
steps,  he  incurred  suspicion  at  court,  and  on  the  7th  of  February,  1601, 
by  direction  of  the  privy-council,  he  was  summoned  to  appear  before 
t^iem*  On  this  he  gathered  round  him  some  of  his  friends,  and  pointed 
out  the  appearance  of  danger.     It  was  agreed  to  enter  the  city  next 

'  Nuffte,    The  passage  referred  to  is  given  in  Miss  Aiken's  Court  of  EKzaJbethy  toL 
U.  p.  463. 

136  POLITICAL  SEEIES.  [Fourth 

day  with  a  band  of  two  hundred  gentlemen.  A  report  was  spread  in 
the  city  of  a  design  by  Cobham  and  Raleigh  agunst  the  life  of  Essex, 
who  was  to  throw  himself,  in  his  attempt,  on  the  support  of  the  citi- 
zens of  London,  and  if  he  succeeded  in  securing  their  assistance,  was 
to  use  it  for  gaining  access  to  the  queen.  In  the  morning  of  next  day, 
which  was  Sunday,  the  8th  of  February,  the  lord- keeper  and  two 
other  crown-ofiicers  demanded  entrance  into  Essex-house  in  the  queen's 
name,  and  on  entering  by  the  wicket,  saw  the  earl,  with  some  of  his 
friends,  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  multitude  of  people.  The  lord- 
keeper  conversed  with  him  respecting  these  hostile  appearances.  Essex 
represented  himself  as  injured  by  perfidy.  During  the  conference, 
there  was  a  tumult  among  the  people,  whom  the  lord-keeper,  putting 
on  his  hat,  commanded  to  lay  down  their  arms  and  leave  the  place. 
On  this,  a  cry  of  violence  was  raised,  and  Essex,  remarking  that  he 
had  to  go  to  the  city,  but  should  soon  return,  drew  his  sword,  and 
rushed  out  of  his  house  accompanied  by  about  two  hundred  men,  hav- 
ing previously  directed  his  visitors  to  be  detained.  Forthwith  he  pro- 
ceeded through  the  city,  where  he  shouted,  ''  For  the  queen,  for  the 
queen, — a  plot  is  laid  for  my  life  I"  Still  a  popular  favourite,  he  was 
greeted  with  benedictions  on  his  way.  But  from  ignorance  of  his  mean- 
ing, or  indisposition  to  join  so  hazardous  a  cause,  the  citizens  made  no 
powerful  movement  on  his  side.  The  court-party,  however,  took  mea- 
sures of  defence.  Lord  Burleigh  made  his  appearance,  accompanied 
by  a  few  horsemen.  The  palace  was  fortified,  and  troops  were  placed 
at  Ludgate.  On  these.  Sir  Christopher  Blount  made  an  attack,  and 
killed  an  officer ;  but  he  himself  was  wounded  and  taken  prisoner,  and 
a  young  man  of  the  same  party  was  killed.  Af^er  this  skirmish,  Essex, 
who  had  himself  been  shot  through  the  hat,  proceeded  to  Queenhithe, 
and  thence  to  Essex-house,  from  which  he  found  the  prisoners  he  had 
left  behind  him  gone.  He  fortified  the  house.  It  was  soon  surround- 
ed by  the  queen's  troops,  commanded  by  the  lord-admiral  and  others. 
Sir  Robert  Sidney  called  for  a  surrender,  to  which  the  earl  at  last 
consented.  Next  day  he  was  taken  to  the  Tower;  and  on  the  19th  he 
was  brought  to  trial  in  Westminster-hall,  along  with  his  comrade,  the 
earl  of  Southampton.  When  called  upon  to  lift  up  his  hand,  Essex 
remarked,  ^<  that  he  had,  before  that  time,  done  it  often  at  her  majes- 
ty's conmiand,  for  a  better  purpose/'  On  the  indictment  being  nead, 
he  pleaded  not  guilty.  Sir  Edward  Coke,  as  attorney-general,  deliver- 
ed an  oration  against  him,  in  which  he  methodically  considers,  first, 
the  quality  of  the  rebellion, — secondly,  the  manner  of  it, — thirdly,  the 
persons  who  engaged  in  it, — and  fourthly,  the  person  against  whom  it 
was  committed,  ending  in  these  insolent  terms, — "  The  earl  would  call 
a  parliament,  and  himself  decide  all  matters  which  did  not  make  for 
his  purpose.  A  bloody  parliament  would  that  have  been,  where  my 
lord  of  Essex,  that  now  stands  all  in  black,  would  have  worn  a  bloody 
robe  I  But  now,  in  God's  just  judgment,  he  of  his  earldom  shall  be 
Robert  the  Last,  that  of  a  kingdom  thought  to  be  Robert  the  First." 

In  prison,  the  earl  was  wrought  upon  by  a  divine  chosen  by  him- 
self^ but  employed,  it  has  been  supposed,  by  government,  to  serve 
their  own  purposes.  Essex,  under  this  influence,  is  said  to  have  made 
a  full  disclosure,  confessing  what  had  been  proved  against  him  on  the 
trial,    and  mentioning  certain  persons  confederate   with   him  in  the 


scheme.  He  also  asked  forgiveness  of  those  whom  he  had  represenUHi 
as  hb  enemies.  In  regard  to  his  confession,  however,  it  has  been 
remarked,  and  it  may  be  proper  to  repeat,  that  we  only  know  what 
was  made  known  respecting  it  by  the  queen  and  council.  It  seems 
also  to  be  uncertain  whether  or  not  he  requested  to  be  executed 
privately.  Doubt  has  even  been  thrown  of  late  on  the  long  fiuniliar 
record  of  Elizabeth's  vacillating  conduct  in  regard  to  the  signing  of 
the  warrant  for  his  death.^  For  this  fact,  however,  there  is  surely 
strong  evidence  in  the  statement  of  Camden  and  the  character  of 
the  queen — ^how  doubtful  soever  the  story  of  Lady  Southampton  and 
the  ring,  as  noticed  in  our  life  of  Elizabeth,  may  be.  At  length, 
however,  his  doom  was  sealed,  and  on  the  25th  of  February,  160 1,  he 
was  brought  to  a  scaffold  erected  within  the  Tower.  The  execution 
was  private,  but  there  were  a  few  spectators.  One  of  these  was  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  but  this  is  a  matter  of  which  different  accounts  are 
given.^°  On  the  scaffold,  Essex  was  attended  by  Dr  Barlow.  He  de- 
nied having  meant  any  violence  to  the  person  of  the  queen,  but  con- 
fessed that  he  was  a  most  wretched  sinner,  and  that  his  sins  were  more 
in  number  than  the  hairs  of  his  head.  As  he  laid  down  his  neck  on  the 
block,  he  commended  his  soul  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  after  a  delay,  in 
the  course  of  which  he  said,  **  O  strike  I  strike  I"  three  blows  from  the 
executioner  severed  his  head  from  his  body. 

Thus  died,  in  the  d4th  year  of  his  age,  the  gallant  earl  of  Essex. 
Rash  and  imprudent  he  unquestionably  was,  nor  can  he  be  said  to 
have  always  acted  a  brilliant  part  in  the  enterprises,  or  an  honourable 
one  amidst  the  rivalries,  of  his  short  but  active  and  eventful  life.  "  Give 
me  the  man,"  says  a  well-known  Roman  poet,  "  who  can  be  praised  inde- 
pendently of  death,'*  ^^  and  that  the  favourable  interest  felt  in  the  life  of 
Essex  is,  in  a  great  degree,  derived  from  the  touching  circumstances  in 
which  he  closed  it,  it  may  be  impossible  to  deny.  Yet  the  gallantry  of 
his  nature,  the  beauty  of  his  writings,  and,  it  may  be,  the  very  '  flash 
and  outbreak  of  his  fiery  mind,'  still  invest  him  with  a  certain  moral 
radiance,  which,  false  and  unwarranted  as  perhaps  in  a  great  degree 
it  is,  may  yet  go  far  to  explain  the  popularity  which  crowned  him  in 
his  life-time. 

CUffurU^  €avl  o(  Cum&erlanO 

BORN  A»D.  1568. — DIED  A.  D.  1603. 

George  Clifford,  distinguished  as  a  man  of  naval  enterprise,  was 

*  Criminal  Trials,  fLibrarw  of  Entertaining  Knowledge,  J  vol.  i.  p.  869,  S70. 
**  That  Raleigh,  however,  in  the  closing  days  of  Essex,  was  warmly  opposed  to  him, 
seems  evident  from  a  letter  of  the  former  to  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  unnted  in  Murdon's 
State  PaperSf  and  republished  in  Dr  Campbell's  JUvee  of  the  British  AdmiraU — Memoir 
of  Sir  W.  RiMgK  *'  JLet  the  queen  hold  Bothwell,"  says  Sir  Walter,  **  while  she  hath 
him.  He  will  ever  be  the  canker  of  her  estate  and  s^ety. .  Princes  are  lot-t  by  secur« 
ity,  and  preserved  by  prevention.  I  have  seen  the  last  of  her  good  days,  and  all  ours, 
after  his  liberty.**  JDr  Campbell  considers  the  reference  here  to  Bothwell  as  an  allusion 
to  the  character  and  conduct  of  Stuart,  earl  of  Bothwell,  which  the  Doctor  comparts 
with  those  of  Essex,  remarking,  that  '*  there  is  nothing  more  shrewd  and  sensible  in  the 
letter  than  the  giving  Essex  the  name." 

"  **  Uunc  volo  laudari  qui  sine  morte  potest"— Afar^tol. 

II.  S 

138  POLITICAL  SEKIES.  [Foubth 

the  son  of  the  second^  and  grandson  of  the  first,  Clifford,  earl  of  Cum- 
berland, the  latter  of  whom,  son  of  Lord  Clifford,  (who,  disguised  in 
his  youth  as  a  Westmoreland  shepherd,  on  the  accession  of  Henry 
VII.,  assumed  the  hereditary  title,)  was  advanced  to  the  earldom  by 
Henry  VIII.  George  Clifford  was  bom  in  1568,  in  the  county  of 
Westmoreland,  and,  by  direction  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  whose  ward  he 
became  by  his  father's  death,  proceeded  to  Cambridge,  and  studied  un- 
der Dr  Whitgifl.  At  the  university  his  mind  was  especially  bent  on 
mathematics — ^to  which  circumstance,  it  b  little  to  be  wondered  at  that 
Lis  future  nautical  distinction  should  have  been  in  some  degree  attri- 
buted. So  early  as  1586,  he  fitted  out  a  few  ships,  which,  proceeding 
to  the  coast  of  America,  made  inroads  on  the  trade  of  Portugal.  In 
1588,  he  commanded  a  ship  against  the  Spanish  armada,  and  took  a 
distinguished  part  in  an  action  fought  on  that  memorable  occasion,  off 
the  town  of  Calais.  The  defeat  of  this  formidable  attempt  at  the  inva- 
sion of  England,  was  followed  by  hostile  expeditions  undertaken  by 
English  subjects,  though  occasionally,  at  least,  encouraged  and  assisted 
by  the  queen,  against  the  Spanish  power.  Sir  Francis  Drake,  ailer 
conducting  one  of  the  most  considerable  of  these,  which  proved  a  disas- 
trous enterprise,  was  met  on  his  way  home  by  the  earl  of  Cumberland, 
who  had  equipped  a  fleet  of  seven  vesseb,  six  of  which  were  prepared 
at  his  own  expense,  the  other  being  lent  him  by  the  queen.  The  earl 
was  enabled,  by  granting  a  seasonable  supply  of  provisions,  to  avert 
the  death  of  many  of  Drake's  crew,  and  proceeding  onward  to  the  Ter- 
ceiras,  seized  some  prizes,  one  of  which,  estimated  at  £100,000,  was 
lost  in  the  return  on  the  coast  of  Cornwall.  Cumberland  engaged  in 
several  other  expeditions  of  the  kind,  but  after  a  few  voyages,  always 
declined  Elizabeth's  proposals  to  lend  him  vessels  of  her  own,  because, 
it  is  alleged,  of  her  imposing  it  as  an  express  condition,  that  be  should 
never  lay  any  of  her  vessels  on  board  a  Spanish  ship,  the  idea  of  which 
seems  to  have  been  associated  in  her  mind  with  suspicions  of  fire  anu 
devastation.  In  one  of  these  enterprises,  undertaken  in  1598,  with  a 
squadron  of  eleven  ships,  fitted  out  at  his  own  expense,  he  sought  to 
intercept  a  Lisbon  fleet  in  its  passage  to  India.  Failing  in  this  object, 
he  proceeded  to  the  Canaries,  plundered  the  island  of  Lancerota,  and 
went  onwards  to  America.  Landing  at  Puerto  Rico,  he  took  the  ca- 
pital, for  which  he  refused  a  ransom  offered  by  the  inhabitants.  His 
object,  it  seems,  was  to  make  this  his  head-quarters,  from  which  he 
might  engage  in  cruising  on  the  Spanish  coasts.  But  disease  spreading 
among  his  men,  he  returned  home.  Indeed,  although  the  earl,  in  his 
maritime  career,  was  occasionally  fortunate,  yet,  on  the  whole,  he  did 
greatly  less  to  aggrandize  his  fortune  than  to  manifest  his  zeal. 

But  Cumberland  was  not  merely  a  maritime  adventurer,  and,  if  his 
distinction  chiefly  rests  on  his  foreign  enterprise,  his  character  would 
be  very  incompletely  drawn,  did  we  not  advert  to  his  eminence  at 
court  He  was  one  of  the  knights-tilters  who  graced  that  splendid 
scene,  and  proved  eminently  successful  in  the  chivalrous  amusements  of 
the  time.  At  these  he  wore,  set  with  diamonds,  on  his  high-crowned 
beaver,  a  glove,  which  her  Majesty,  by  design  or  by  accident,  had 
dropped,  and,  on  his  taking  it  up,  desired  him  to  retain.  On  the  re- 
tirement of  Sir  Henry  Lee  from  the  situation  of  queen's  champion,  the 
earl  succeded  him.     The  ceremonies  of  his  instedlation  were  charao- 


teristie  ot  the  time.  After  the  knights-tilten  had  performed  in  courtly 
exercises,  Sir  Henry  and  his  intended  successor  proceeded  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  gallery^  where  the  queen  and  her  retinue  were  seated,  ad- 
vancing to  the  sound  of  music,  which  was  accompanied  by  a  ditty  in 
which  a  performer  behind  the  scenes  made  mention  of  the  old  age  and 
proposed  retirement  of  the  venerable  champion.  During  this  part  of 
the  ceremonial,  there  appeared  a  pavilion  in  imitation  of  a  vestal  tem- 
ple, in  front  of  which  stood  an  ornamented  pillar,  having  a  tablet  at- 
tached to  it,  with  the  name  of  Elizabeth  inscribed.  The  tablet  was 
presented  to  the  queen,  as  were  also  certain  rich  presents  which  had 
been  laid  on  an  altar  within  the  pavilion.  At  the  bottom  of  the  pillar, 
the  aged  champion,  now  disarmed,  offered  to  his  royal  mistress  the  ac- 
coutrements of  his  office,  and  then,  on  his  knees,  presented  to  her  the 
earl  of  Cumberland,  whom  he  prayed  her  to  accept  of  as  her  knight. 
The  queen  assented — on  which  Sir  Henry  armed  and  mounted  the  earl, 
and  invested  his  own  person  with  a  peaceful  garb.  Cumberland  receiv- 
ed another  honour  from  Elizabeth  when,  in  1591  or  1592,  she  pre- 
sented him  with  the  order  of  the  Garter,  *<  which,*'  says  a  biographer 
of  the  British  admirals,'  **  in  her  reign,  was  never  bestowed  till  it  had 
been  deserved  by  signal  services  to  the  public."  She  seems  also  to 
have  sought,  by  his  instrumentality,  to  control  the  spirit  of  the  earl  of 
Essex,  and,  at  the  condemnation  of  that  ill-fated  fiivourite  by  the  privy 
council,  in  1600,  Cumberland  endeavoured  to  mitigate  the  sentence,  to 
which,  however,  he  assented,  in  expectation,  he  alleged,  of  Essex  re- 
ceiving mercy  firom  the  queen.  He  was  in  great  favour  with  Eliza- 
beth's successor,  James  VI.,  but  died  early  in  his  reign.  That  event 
happened  on  the  30th  of  October,  1605.  The  earl's  remains  were  con- 
veyed from  the  Savoy,  London,  to  Skipton  in  Yorkshire,  and  there  in- 
terred. Before  his  death  he  had  squandered  his  fortune ;  nor,  high  as 
he  may  rank  as  a  man  of  talent,  science,  enterprise,  and  chivalry,  is  his 
memory  as  a  husband  free  fix)m  the  charge  of  cruelty.  From  his  lady, 
a  daughter  of  the  earl  of  Bedford,  he  was  separated,  and  for  her  future 
comfort  he  failed  of  making  adequate  provision.  He  was  the  last  male 
heir  of  liis  family,  but  his  only  daughter  Anne  deserves  a  particular 

This  lady  was  bom  in  1589,  at  Skipton  castle,  and  married,  first  to 
Lord  Buckhurst,  of  whom  she  wrote  a  memorial,  and  afterwards  to  the 
earl  of  Pembroke.  She  erected  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  the 
poet  Daniel,  who  had  been  her  instructor,  and  raised  a  similar  me- 
morial over  the  honoured  grave  of  Spenser.  Nor  must  we  here  omit 
her  famous  answer  to  Sir  Joseph  Williamson,  the  secretary  of  state, 
who  had  proposed  a  member  for  the  countess's  burgh  of  Appleby : — '^  I 
have  been  bullied  by  an  usurper, — I  have  been  neglected  by  a  court, — 
but  I  will  not  be  dictated  to  by  a  subject, — ^your  man  sha'nt  stand." 
Two  hospitals  and  seven  churches  were  either  built  or  repaired  by  this 
high-spirited  female — in  whose  character,  it  may  be  natural  to  recognise, 
acting  in  a  different  direction,  and  pervaded,  perhaps,  by  nobler  prln* 
ciples,  the  ardour  and  activity  of  mind  which  prompted  her  father's 
course  of  adventurous  and  persevering  enterprise. 

'  Dr  J.  Campbell. 

140  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fourth 

*       "^ — ~ — " ■  mM_\      I    ■■      ,      ■    ■  n  I  I 

Ftrt,  tfarl  of  ^xtovti. 

BORN  CntC.  A.  D.  1540. — ^DISD  A.  D.  1604w 

Edward  Verb,  seventeenth  earl  of  Oxford,  was  bom  in  the  year 
1540  or  1541.  His  character  presents  an  extraordinary  union  of  the 
rudeness  and  impetuosity  of  a  feudal  baron  with  the  mental  accomplish- 
ments and  personal  graces  of  the  scholar  and  travelled  nobleman. 
Having  spent  some  years  of  his  early  life  in  foreign  travel,  he  is  said  to 
have  imported  not  a  few  of  the  refinements  and  fopperies  of  other  coun- 
tries into  England.  In  particular,  he  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  who 
introduced  the  use  of  embroidered  gloves  and  perfumery ;  he  aped 
Italian  dresses,  and  was  called  *  the  mirror  of  Tuscanismo ;'  yet  he 
was  not  a  mere  petit^maitre,  but  held  an  honourable  place  among 
the  chivalrous  and  fiery  spirits  of  his  age.  In  the  manly  exercises  of 
the  tilt  and  tournament  he  had  few  superiors  ;  and  on  one  occasion  he 
acquitted  himself  so  gallantly  in  the  jousts,  that  the  fair  umpires  led 
him,  all  armed  as  he  was,  into  the  presence-chamber,  to  receive  the 
prize  from  her  majesty's  hand.  Soon  after  enjoying  this  distinguislied 
honour,  he  incurred  a  disgrace  equally  marked  and  public,  being  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  for  dishonourable  conduct  towards  one  of  the  queen's 
maids  of  honour.  On  other  occasions,  his  fierce  and  lawless  spirit 
burst  forth  with  an  impetuosity  which  defied  all  checks  but  those  of 
absolute  coercion  and  physiccd  restraint.  Having  been  wounded  by 
Sir  Thomas  Knevet  in  a  duel,  which  he  had  himself  provoked,  he 
sought  to  take  open  and  fatal  revenge  upon  his  antagonist,  and  was 
only  prevented  carrying  his  bloody  design  into  execution  by  the  inter- 
ference of^  the  queen,  who  also  allowed  Sir  Thomas  to  keep  a  guard 
around  his  own  person.  He  also  publicly  insulted  the  amiable  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  in  the  tennis-court  of  the  palace,  and  the  queen  could 
discover  no  other  means  of  preventing  fatal  consequences  than  by  en- 
treating Sir  Philip  to  make  an  apology  to  the  overbearing  nobleman, 
which  Sir  Philip  did  in  compliance  with  her  majesty's  wishes,  although 
he  instantly  retired  from  court  in  disgust  In  1586,  the  earl  sat  as 
great  chamberlain  of  England  on  the  trial  of  Mary,  queen  of  Scots ; 
and,  in  1588,  we  find  him  fitting  out  ships  at  his  own  expense  against 
the  armada.  Thomas,  duke  of  Norfolk,  was  the  nephew  of  this  noble- 
man, and  on  Burleigh  refusing  to  intercede  for  the  duke,  Oxford  got 
so  incensed,  that  "  in  most  absurd  and  unjust  revenge,"  he  forsook  his 
own  wife's  bed,  and  sold  or  dissipated  the  greater  part  of  that  vast  in- 
tieritance  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  him  by  his  ancestors.  He 
died  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  James  I. 

This  nobleman  enjoyed  in  his  own  times  a  considerable  poetical  re- 
putation. Among  his  eulogists,  are  his  contemporaries  Lilly,  Mun- 
day,  and  Spenser.  His  once  celebrated  comedies  have  perished,  but 
some  of  his  sonnets,  which  are  preserved  in  the  *  Paradise  of  Dainty 
Devices,'  are  not  the  worst  in  that  curious  collection.  His  lady  was 
also  a  poetess.  Some  of  her  pieces  are  to  be  found  in  a  collection  of 
odes  and  sonnets,  entitled  *  Diana,'  published  by  one  John  Southenu 

Period.]  SIB  EDMUND  ANDERSON.  141 

S^lt  (Stimunti  9nQerj90n« 

BORN  CIRC.  A.  D.   1540. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1605. 

SiB  Edmund  Anderson,  an  English  lawyer  of  Scotch  descent,  waj 
born  about  the  year  1540,  at  Broughton,  or  Flixborough,  in  Lincoln- 
shire. He  studied  at  Lincoln  college,  Oxford,  from  whence  he  re- 
moved to  the  Inner  Temple.  In  1577,  he  was  appointed  sergeant-at- 
law  to  the  queen,  and  the  year  ailerwards,  one  of  the  justices  of  assize, 
in  which  character  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  unrelenting  severity 
towards  the  Brownists  while  on  the  Norfolk  circuit  of  1581.  In 
1582,  he  was  made  lord-chief-justice  of  the  common  pleas,  and  the 
year  following,  received  the  honour  of  knighthood.  He  sat  in  the 
star-chamber  when  sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  against  Mary, 
queen  of  Scots;  and  presided  in  the  same  court  at  Davison's  trial. 
Anderson  was  justly  considered  an  able  lawyer,  however,  and  ad- 
hered with  rigorous  exactness  to  the  letter  of  the  statutes.  In  the  trial 
of  Henry  Cuffe,  secretary  to  the  earl  of  Essex,  when  the  attorney-gen- 
eral was  proceeding  to  argue  the  case  on  general  principles,  the  chief- 
justice  interrupted  him,  by  observing,  **  I  sit  here  to  judge  of  law,  and 
not  of  logic  :'*  but  when  an  advocate,  in  favour  of  his  cause,  urged  tlie 
want  of  certain  precedents,  the  lord-chief-justice  replied,  "What  of 
that?  shall  we  give  no  judgment  because  it  is  not  adjudged  in  the 
books  before?  We  will  give  judgment  according  to  reason;  and  if 
there  be  no  reason  in  the  books,  I  will  not  regard  them."  He  did  not 
hesitate  to  oppose  the  queen  when  she  stretched  her  prerogative  be- 
yond the  limit  of  the  law ;  and  he  joined  with  the  rest  of  the  judges, 
and  the  barons  of  exchequer,  in  a  remonstrance  against  the  arbitrary 
authority  occasionally  assumed  by  the  court.  Upon  the  accession  of 
James  I.,  he  was  continued  in  office,  and  remained  in  it  till  his  death, 
which  happened  in  1605.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Sir  Edmund 
was  a  sound  lawyer;  and,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  he  was  an  honest  man; 
but  the  intolerant  and  persecuting  spirit  which  he  manifested  on  all  oc- 
casions towards  the  nonconformists,  particularly  in  the  case  of  Udal 
and  Robert  Brown,  must  for  ever  attach  a  stigma  to  his  memory.  His 
works  are,  *  Reports  of  Cases  adjudged  in  the  time  of  Queeii  Elizabeth, 
in  the  Common  Bench,'  in  folio,  London,  1644 ;  and,  *  Resolutions  and 
Judgments  in  the  Courts  of  Westminster,'  published  in  1653.  The 
title  is  now  extinct. 

BORN  A.  D.  1563. — DIED  A.  D.  1606. 

One  of  the  most  distinguished  ornaments  of  Elizabeth's  court,  was 
Charles,  second  son  of  James,  Lord  Mountjoy.  He  was  born  in  the 
year  1563,  and  destined  to  the  profession  of  the  law,  for  the  fallen  for- 
tunes of  his  family  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  seek  his  subsistence 
by  dint  of  his  own  honourable  exertions.  His  grandfather  had  cur- 
tailed the  family-revenue  by  the  expenses  into  which  he  launched  in 


order  to  keep  pace  with  the  laxuries  of  Henry's  court ;  his  &ther  had 
rendered  matters  still  worse  by  seeking  to  overcome  all  his  embarrass- 
ments by  the  possession  of  the  philosopher's  stone ;  and  his  elder  bro- 
ther had  nearly  dissipated  the  remnant  by  the  most  profuse  and  unjus- 
tifiable prodigality.  In  these  circumstances  Charles  not  only  resolved 
to  push  his  own  way  through  the  world,  but  to  restore  the  sinking  hon- 
ours of  his  family.  And  it  is  recorded  of  him,  that  so  early  had  this 
honourable  desire  taken  possession  of  his  bosom,  that  upon  his  parents 
proposing  to  have  a  portrait  taken  of  him  while  yet  a  youth,  he  desired 
to  be  painted  with  a  trowel  in  his  hand,  and  this  motto, — "  Ad  resediti- 
candam  antiquam  domum." 

Sir  Robert  Naunton  has  thus  sketched  his  early  manhood.  ^*  As  he 
came  from  Oxford,  he  took  the  Inner  temple  on  his  way  to  the  court, 
whither  he  no  sooner  came,  but,  without  asking,  he  had  a  pretty 
strange  kind  of  admission,  which  I  have  heard  from  a  discreet  man  of 
his  own,  and  much  more  of  the  secrets  of  these  times.  He  was  then 
much  about  twenty  years  of  age ;  of  a  brown  hair,  a  sweet  face,  a  most 
neat  composure,  and  tall  in  his  person.  The  queen  was  then  at  White- 
hall at  dinner,  whither  he  came  to  see  the  fashion  of  the  court.  The 
queen  had  soon  found  him  out,  and  with  a  kind  of  affected  frown,  asked 
the  lady-carver  who  he  was.  She  answered  she  knew  him  not,  inso- 
much as  an  inquiry  was  made  fix)m  one  to  another  who  he  might  be, 
till  at  length  it  was  told  the  queen  he  was  brother  to  Lord  William 
Mountjoy.  This  inquisition,  with  the  eye  of  majesty  fixed  upon  him 
(as  she  was  wont  to  do,  and  to  daunt  men  she  knew  not),  stirred  the 
blood  of  this  young  gentleman  insomuch  as  his  colour  came  and  went, 
which  the  queen  observing,  called  him  unto  her  and,  gave  him  her  hand 
to  kiss,  encouraging  him  with  gracious  words,  and  new  looks ;  and  so, 
diverting  her  speech  to  the  lords  and  ladies,  she  said  that  she  no  sooner 
observed  him  but  that  she  knew  there  was  in  him  some  noble  blood, 
with  some  other  expressions  of  pity  towards  his  house ;  and  then,  again 
demanding  his  name,  she  said,  *  fail  you  not  to  come  to  the  court,  and 
I  will  bethink  myself  how  to  do  you  good.'  And  this  was  his  inlet, 
and  the  beginnings  of  his  grace ;  where  it  falls  into  consideration,  that 
though  he  wanted  not  wit  and  courage,  for  he  had  very  fine  attractions, 
and  being  a  good  piece  of  a  scholar,  yet  were  they  accompanied  with 
the  retractives  of  bashfulness  and  a  natural  modesty,  which,  as  the  tone 
of  his  house  and  the  ebb  of  his  fortunes  then  stood,  might  have  hinder- 
ed his  progression,  had  they  not  been  reinforced  by  the  infusion  of 
sovereign  favour,  and  the  queen's  gracious  invitation.  And,  that  it  may 
appear  how  low  he  was,  and  how  much  that  heretic  necessity  will  work 
in  the  dejection  of  good  spirits,  I  can  deliver  it  with  assurance,  that  hi& 
exhibition  was  very  scant  until  his  brother  died,  which  was  shortly  af 
ter  his  admission  to  the  court,  and  then  it  was  no  more  than  a  thousand 
marks  per  annum,  wherewith  he  lived  plentifully  in  a  fine  way  and 
garb,  and  without  ^ny  great  sustentation,  during  all  his  time ;  and  as 
there  was  in  his  nature  a  kind  of  backwardness  which  did  not  befriend 
him,  nor  suit  with  the  motion  of  the  court,  so  there  was  in  him  an  in- 
clination to  arms,  with  a  humour  of  travelling  and  gadding  about, 
which,  had  not  some  wise  men  about  him  laboured  to  remove,  and  the 
queen  herself  laid  in  her  commands,  he  would,  out  of  his  natural  pru- 
pension,  have  marred  his  own  market  *' 

PssioD.]  SIR  FRANCIS  D£  VERE.  1 43 

In  1594,  he  was  appointed  goyernor  of  Portsmouth,  and  in  the  same 
year  he  succeeded  to  the  barony  of  Mountjoy  on  the  death  of  his  elder 
brother.  He  now  stood  high  in  the  queen's  good  graces,  and  in  1597 
was  appointed  lieutenant-general  of  the  land  forces  in  the  expedition 
under  Essex  to  the  Azores.  It  is  certain,  that  notwithstanding  the 
queen's  favour,  the  jealousy  of  Essex  retarded  the  promotion  of  Mount- 
joy.  But  on  the  fall  of  that  favourite  he  rapidly  rose  in  honour  and 
employments.  He  succeeded  Essex  in  the  command  in  Ireland,  and  in 
two  campaigns  reduced  that  country  to  obedience ;  thus  fulfilling  the 
queen's  *  prophetical  speech,'  as  recorded  by  Naunton,  **  that  it  would 
be  his  fortune  and  his  honour  to  cut  the  thread  of  that  fatal  rebellion, 
and  to  bring  her  in  peace  to  the  grave." 

James  acknowledged  and  rewarded  Mountjoy's  merits,  by  appoint- 
ing him  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  creating  him  earl  of  Devon- 
shire. But  he  does  not  appear  to  have  resided  much  in  his  government 
He  died  on  the  dd  of  April,  1606.  Fynes  Morrison,  who  had  been 
the  earl's  secretary  in  Ireland,  declares  that  *'  grief  of  unsuccetssfui  love 
brought  him  to  his  last  end."  In  early  life  he  had  privately  inter- 
changed vows  of  attachment  with  Penelope,  eldest  daughter  of  Walter 
Devereux,  earl  of  Essex.  But  he  had  not  yet  raised  himself  above  the 
adversity  which  clouded  his  early  years,  and  the  parents  of  his  lady  love 
forced  ^eir  daughter  to  give  her  hand  to  Robert,  Lord  Rich.  A  guilty 
connexion  between  the  lovers  followed ;  and  at  last,  Lady  Rich  aban- 
doned her  husband,  and  fled  to  the  arms  of  the  earl,  taking  with  her 
her  five  children,  whom  she  declared  to  be  his  issue.  The  earl  received 
the  unfortunate  woman,  and  on  her  divorce  from  Lord  Rich,  was  mar- 
ried to  her  on  December,  1605.  He  survived  this  wretched  union  but 
a  few  months. 

^tr  ffvantiti  tit  Veve. 

BORN  A.  O.  1554. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1608. 

Francis  De  Vere,  the  second  son  of  Geofirey  De  Vere,  and  grand- 
son of  John  De  Vere,  fifteenth  earl  of  Oxford,  was  bom  at  Castle-Hen- 
ningham,  in  Essex,  or,  according  to  others,  at  Colchester,  in  the  year 
1554.  His  ancestors,  from  the  first  arrival  of  the  family  in  the  person 
of  Alaric  De  Vere,  who  accompanied  the  Conqueror  to  England,  had 
filled  the  most  honourable  posts  under  their  respective  sovereigns.  At 
an  early  age  the  young  Francis  was  put  to  study  *  the  noble  profes- 
sion of  arms ;'  but  it  was  not  until  his  thirty-first  year  that  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  witnessing  actual  service.  In  December,  1585,  he  ac- 
companied the  English  expedition  to  Flushing,  as  a  volunteer,  and  soon 
afterwards  attached  himself  to  the  gallant  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  whose 
death  he  witnessed  in  the  battle  of  Warnsfield.  In  1587  he  gallantly 
assisted  in  the  defence  of  Sluys,  and  next  year  served  in  the  defence  of 
Bergen-op-Zoom,  under  Lord  Wiiloughby.  On  this  occasion  he  was 
intrusted  with  the  command  of  two  companies  of  foot,  and  the  impor- 
tant charge  of  the  island  of  Toretole ;  but  after  that  the  duke  of  Parma 
had  converted  the  siege  into  a  blockade,  De  Vere  solicited  and  ob- 
tained permission  to  occupy  one  of  the  two  forts  situated  between  the 

144  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Toukth 

town  and  the  river,  in  the  defence  of  which,  our  young  soldier  per- 
ceived more  glory  was  to  be  obtuned  than  in  service  within  the  walls. 
Here  he  lured  a  strong  detachment  of  the  duke's  army  into  a  snare, 
by  which  500  men  were  cut  off,  and  a  general  panic  diffused  through- 
out the  besieging  army,  in  consequence  of  which  the  siege  was  hastily 
abandoned.  De  Vere's  eminent  services  on  this  occasion  were  rewarded 
with  the  honour  of  knighthood,  and  from  this  period  his  name  holds  a 
distinguished  place  in  the  annals  of  English  war&re. 

In  the  spring  of  1 589,  De  Vere  commanded  a  body  of  600  of  his) 
countrymen,  under  Prince  Maurice,  the  general-in-chief  of  the  Dutch 
forces.  In  this  service,  with  a  force  of  only  800  men,  he  successinll} 
defended  the  island  of  Voom  against  Mansfeldt's  forces,  then  amount- 
ing to  12,000,  and  compelled  that  general  to  change  the  plan  of  his 
campaign.  The  next  service  which  he  rendered  the  States  was  the  re- 
lief of  Bergh  upon  the  Rhine,  then  closely  besieged  by  the  marquess  of 
Warrenbon,  and  suffering  severely  for  want  of  provisions.  Arriving,  at 
the  head  of  a  small  force,  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  lines,  he  boldly 
charged  through  them,  threw  in  the  much-needed  supplies,  and  then 
cut  his  way  back  again  to  Caleti.  But  the  garrison  of  Bergh  was  soon 
a8  much  distressed  as  ever  for  want  of  provisions,  and  the  investing 
corps  had  meanwhile  received  considerable  reinforcements,  whereupon 
the  States  desired  Sir  Francis  to  throw  in  a  fresh  supply.  The  commis- 
sion appeared  almost  a  desperate  one,  yet  it  was  instantly  undertaken 
by  him.  With  admirable  dexterity  he  led  the  convoy  through  a  nar- 
row defile  in  the  face  of  overwhelming  numbers,  and  entered  Bergh 
without  the  loss  of  a  single  waggon.  His  retreat  was  still  more  suc- 
cessfully executed.  Quitting  the  town  under  cover  of  a  thick  fog,  and 
pursuing  a  new  route,  he  entirely  escaped  the  notice  of  the  besieging 
forces,  and  aiTived  safely  at  his  original  station,  bringing  along  with 
him  his  wounded  men  in  the  empty  waggons. 

In  the  succeeding  summer,  De  Vere's  services  were  demanded  to 
relieve  the  castle  of  Litkeuhooven,  which  he  at  once  undertook,  though 
unprovided  with  a  single  piece  of  artillery,  and  achieved  with  small 
loss.  On  his  return  through  the  country  of  Cleves,  having  learned  that 
Burick  on  the  Rhine  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  he  resolved  to 
regain  it,  and  after  having  been  twice  driven  back  by  the  garrison  of 
the  citadel,  the  place  was  put  into  his  hands  by  the  governor  at  the 
moment  preparations  were  making  for  a  third  attack.  The  return  of 
the  duke  of  Parma  rendered  it  necessary  for  Prince  Maurice  to  con- 
centrate his  divisions,  and  De  Vere's  detachment  was  ordered  to  Dees- 
burg.  Here  it  was  intimated  to  him  that  the  prince  intended  to  invest 
Zutphen,  and  in  order  to  facilitate  the  siege,  De  Vere  made  himself 
master  of  a  strong  fort  in  the  neighbourhood,  by  a  stratagem  which  is 
thus  related  by  hjmself  in  his  Commentaries :  "  I  chose,"  he  says,  "  a 
good  number  of  lusty  and  hardy  young  soldiers,  the  most  of  which  I 
apparelled  like  the  countrywomen  of  those  parts,  the  rest  like  the  men : 
gave  to  some  baskets,  to  others  packs,  and  such  burthens  as  the  people 
usually  carry  to  the  market,  with  pistols  and  short  swords,  and  daggers 
under  their  garments,  willing  them,  by  two  or  three  in  a  company,  by 
break  of  day,  to  be  at  the  ferry  of  Zutphen,  which  is  just  against  the 
fort,  as  if  they  staid  for  the  passage-boat  of  the  town ;  and  bade  them 
there  to  sit  and  rest  themselves  in  the  meantime,  as  near  the  gate  of 


Pehiod.]  Sm  FRANCIS  DE  VERE.  145 

the  fort  as  they  could  for  avoidlug  suspicion,  aod  to  seiie  upon  the 
same  as  soon  as  it  was  opened,  which  took  so  good  effect,  that  they 
possessed  the  entry  of  the  fort,  and  held  the  same  till  an  officer  with 
two  hundred  soldiers — ^who  was  laid  in  a  covert  not  fiir  oflP— came  to 
their  succour,  and  so  became  fully  master  of  the  place.  By  which 
means  the  siege  of  the  town  afterwuxls  proved  the  shorter.** 

The  fall  of  Zutphen  was  followed  by  the  surrender  of  Deventer,  and 
the  advance  of  Prince  Maurice  into  Friesland,  from  whence  he  was  sud- 
denly recalled  by  the  States-general,  on  the  appearance  of  the  duke  of 
Parma  in  the  Beltow,  one  of  those  large  islands  fonned  betwixt  the 
Rhine  and  the  Waal.  The  duke  had  formed  the  siege  of  Kosenburg,  a 
castle  which  protects  the  ferry  of  Nimeguen,  before  Maurice  came  up ; 
and  the  latter  despaired  of  being  able  to  drive  so  consummate  a  general 
from  the  strong  position  in  which  he  now  fi>und  him.  Not  so  De  Vere. 
He  attentively  reconnoitred  the  position  of  the  enemy,  and  quickly  de- 
vised a  plan  for  leading  him  into  an  ambuscade,  in  which  he  so  effectually 
succeeded,  that  the  duke,  disheartened  by  the  loss  of  a  large  body  of 
his  finest  cavalry,  instantly  raised  the  siege,  and  retreated  "  with  more 
dishonour  than  in  any  action  that  he  had  undertaken  in  these  warres." 

We  hear  no  more  of  our  gallant  countryman  till  the  year  1596,  ex- 
cepting that,  in  1592,  he  was  chosen  member  of  parliament  for  the 
borough  of  Leominster.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  continued  in 
the  military  employment  of  the  States  until  1596,  when  he  was  recalled 
to  take  part  in  the  expedition  against  Cadiz,  prompted  by  Elizabeth*^ 
high-admiral.  On  the  10th  of  June  that  year,  the  armament,  consisting 
of  15,000  men  and  150  ships,  put  to  sea,  and  on  the  Ist  of  July  arrived 
at  the  mouth  of  Cadiz  bay.  It  was  immediately  resolved  to  force  the 
entrance  to  the  bay,  and  drive  the  Spanish  fleet,  which  was  laid  across 
it,  from  its  moorings.  In  this  service  De  Vere  bore,  as  usual,  a  distin- 
guished part ;  and  the  subsequent  capture  of  the  town  was  mainly  attri- 
butable to  his  gallant  and  judicious  conduct  His  opinion,  however, 
that  the  place  should  be  retained,  was  overruled,  and  orders  given  for 
its  destruction,  after  which  the  troops  leisurely  re-embarked.  It  b  re- 
corded, to  the  immortal  honour  of  De  Vere  and  his  companions,  that, 
on  this  occasion,  not  a  single  life  was  taken  in  cold  blood,  nor  had  a 
single  female  to  complain  that  she  had  suffered  violence  or  insult  from 
an  English  soldier.  De  Vere,  however,  informs  us  that  "  he  got  three 
prisoners  on  the  occasion  worth  10,000  ducats ;  one  a  churchman  and 
president  of  the  contradutation  of  the  Indies,  the  other  two  ancient 

On  the  return  of  the  Spanish  expedition  to  England,  De  Vere  spent 
a  few  months  at  court,  and  then  set  out  again  for  the  Low  countries* 
But  he  had  scarcely  put  foot  on  the  old  theatre  of  his  military  exploits, 
when  he  was  summoned  to  repair  to  England  to  assist  in  planning  and 
executing  an  enterprise  against  the  Spanish  West  India  fleet  The 
failure  of  this  expedition  is  well  known.  Essex,  the  commander,  return- 
ed baffled  and  dispirited,  and  his  enemies  keenly  endeavoured  to  turn 
the  queen's  resentment  against  him ;  but  De  Vere,  though  he  had  felt 
himself  aggrieved  by  the  appointment  of  Lord  Mountjoy  to  the  first 
command,  nobly  disdained  to  take  advantage  of  Essex  in  his  hour  of 
humiliation,  and,  on  his  presentation  at  court,  spoke  so  warmly  in  his 
&vour,  that  he  completely  removed  the  impression  which  the  enemies 

II,  T 

146  POLITICAL  SERIES.  [Fouhtii 

of  Essex  had  made  on  the  queen.  **  Thb  office  I  performed  to  his 
lordship,"  says  he,  **  to  the  grieving  and  bitter  incensing  of  the  contrary 
party  against  mo,  when,  notwithstanding,  I  had  diseoirered,  as  is  afore- 
tmid,  in  my  reconcilement  his  lordship's  coldnesse  of  affection  to  me,  and 
had  plainly  told  my  lord  himself  mine  own  resolution,  in  which  I  still 
persisted  not  to  follow  his  lordship  any  more  to  the  warres ;  yet,  to  make 
a  full  return  as  I  could  for  the  good  &vour  the  world  supposed  his  lord- 
ship bore  me,  fearing  more  to  incurre  the  opinion  of  ingratitude  than 
the  malice  of  any  enemies,  how  great  soever,  which  the  delivery  of 
truth  could  procure  me." 

De  Vere's  reward  for  this  and  other  services  was  his  appointment  to  the 
governorship  of  Brille.  Before  he  had  resided  two  months  here,  he  plan- 
ned an  enterprise  for  the  tailing  of  Tumhoult,  which  completely  succeeded, 
although  the  conduct  of  Prince  Maurice  prevented  the  forces  of  the  States 
from  reaping  all  the  advantages  of  the  movements  which  Oe  Vere  had 
suggested.  In  January  1598,  De  Vere  returned  to  England,  and  pre- 
sented himself  at  court,  where  he  seems  to  have  been  but  indifferently 
received.  He  then  retired  to  the  Hague,  where  he  continued  to  reside 
till  recalled  by  his  royal  mistress  on  the  threat  of  an  invasion.  In  1599 
we  find  him  again  in  the  field  with  Prince  Maurice,  and,  contrary  to 
what  might  have  been  expected  from  him,  counselling  the  prince  to  be 
cautious  how  he  attempted  to  carry  the  war  into  Flanders.  His  advices, 
though  not  wholly  disregarded,  were  in  the  main  overlooked ;  and  the 
result  was,  that  the  archduke  Albert,  who  commanded  the  Spanish 
forces,  soon  pressed  upon  the  small  army  of  the  States,  and  compelled 
Maurice  to  risk  a  battle  against  great  odds.  De  Vere's  admirable  dis- 
positions, however,  secured  the  victory  for  the  patriots,  and  won  for 
him,  from  all  competent  judges,  a  place  in  the  ^rst  rank  of  military 
commanders.  The  defeat  of  the  Spaniards  was  complete,  although  the 
whole  brunt  of  the  battle  was  borne  by  De  Vere's  English  troops  alone. 

The  last  and  most  illustrious  military  service  performed  by  De  Vere 
was  the  defence  of  Ostend  against  the  archduke  Albert,  who  had  placed 
it  suddenly  in  a  state  of  siege.  The  force  of  the  besiegers  exceed  13,000 
men ;  the  total  force  under  De  Vere's  command  did  not  exceed  2400  ; 
yet  with  this  comparatively  insignificant  garrison,  scarcely  amounting 
to  one  half  of  the  number  required  for  manning  the  fortifications,  did  he 
bafHe  the  utmost  efforts  of  the  archduke  to  get  possession  of  the  place. 
Once  only  did  De  Vere  condescend  to  negotiation  with  his  powerful 
antagonist,  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  time.  The  questionable  strata- 
gem succeeded,  and  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  enabled  him  again  to 
hurl  defiance  at  his  proud  foe,  which  he  did  in  the  following  laconic 
note : — 

"  We  have  heretofore  held  it  necessary,  for  certain  reasons,  to  treat 
with  the  deputies  which  had  authority  from  your  highnesse ;  but 
whilst  we  were  about  to  conclude  upon  the  conditions  and  articles,  there 
are  arrived  certain  of  our  ships  of  warre,  by  whom  we  have  received 
part  of  that  which  we  had  need  of;  and  that  we  cannot,  with  our  honoui 
and  oath,  continue  the  treaty,  nor  proceed  in  it,  which  we  hope  that 
your  highnesse  will  not  take  in  ill  part ;  and  that,  nevertheless,  when 
your  power  shall  reduce  us  to  the  like  estate,  you  will  not  refuse,  as  a 
most  generous  prince,  to  vouchsafe  us  again  a  gentle  audience.  From 
our  town  of  Ostend,  25th  day  of  December,  1601. 

Francis  De  Vebe." 

Pbriod.]  sir  FRANCIS  DE  VERB.  147 

Nothing  could  now  exceed  the  indignation  of  the  archduke*  who 
swore  a  solemn  oath  that  he  would  spare  no  living  thing  within  the 
waUs  of  the  devoted  town,  and  instantly  issued  orders  to  prepare  for  the 
assault.  On  the  8th  of  January,  the  assault  commenced  soon  after  mid- 
night ;  but  the  assailants  were  so  warmly  received  that,  after  a  despe- 
rate conflict,  they  were  compelled  to  retire  with  a  loss  of  2000  men. 
Notwithstanding  this  gallant  and  successful  conduct,  De  Vere  was  shortly 
afterwards  superseded  in  tlie  command  of  Ostend  by  General  Dorp.  In 
June  1603,  we  find  him  in  attendance  at  the  court  of  St  James's.  The  next 
year,  the  conclusion  of  peace  between  England  and  Spain  compelled 
James  to  withdraw  his  troops  from  the  Low  countries,  and  led,  therefore, 
to  the  dismissal  of  De  Vere  from,  the  military  employment  which  he 
held  under  the  States. 

On  the  28th  of  August,  1608,  Sir  Francis  died  at  his  own  house  in 
London,  in  the  54th  year  of  his  age.  He  was  interred  in  St  John's 
chapel,  Westminster,  where  a  fine  monument  was  erected  to  his  memory 
by  his  widow,  the  daughter  of  a  London  citizen.  He  had  three  sons 
and  two  daughters,  all  of  whom  died  before  him.  **  Sir  Francis  Vere,'* 
says  Sir  Robert  Naughton,  **  was  of  that  ancient  and  most  noble  extract 
of  the  earls  of  Oxford ;  and  it  may  be  a  question  whether  the  nobility 
of  bis  house,  or  the  honour  of  hb  achievements,  might  most  commend 
him ;  but  that  we  have  an  authentic  rule, — 

Nam  genus  et  proavos  et  ^uae  non  fecimus  Ipsi, 
Vix  ea  nostra  voco. 

For  though  he  was  an  honourable  slip  of  that  ancient  tree  of  nobility, 
which  was  no  disadvantage  to  his  virtue,  yet  he  brought  more  glory  to 
the  name  of  Vere  than  he  took  blood  from  the  family.  He  was,  amongst 
all  the  queen's  swordsmen,  inferior  unto  none,  but  superior  unto  many ; 
of  whom  it  may  be  said,  to  speak  much  of  him  were  to  leave  out  some- 
what that  might  add  to  his  praise,  and  to  forget  more  than  would  make 
to  his  honour.  I  find  not  that  he  came  much  to  court,  for  he  lived  almost 
perpetually  in  the  camp ;  but  when  he  did,  none  had  more  of  the  queen's 
favour,  and  none  less  envied ;  for  he  seldome  troubled  it  with  the  noise 
and  alarms  of  supplications, — ^his  way  was  another  sort  of  undermining. 
They  report  that  the  queen,  as  she  loved  martial  men,  would  court  this 
gentleman  as  soon  as  he  appeared  in  her  presence ;  and  surely  he  was  a 
soldier  of  great  worth  and  command,— ^thirty  years  in  the  service  of  the 
States,  and  twenty  years  over  the  English  in  chief,  as  the  queen's 
general  I" 

De  Vere  was  a  man  of  letters,  as  well  as  an  accomplished  general,  and 
wrote  an  account  of  the  principal  military  transactions  in  which  he  was 
engaged,  which  was  published  from  his  MSS.  by  Dr  William  Dilling- 
ham, in  1657,  under  the  title  of  '  The  Commentaries  of  Sir  Francis 



DIED  A.  D.  1487. 

Thomas  Bourchibr,  archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  the  snecessive 
reigns  of  Henry  VI.,  Edward  IV.,  Edward  V.,  Richard  III.,  and 
Henry  VII.,  was  descended  from  an  illustrious  femily,  being  the  son 
of  William  Bourchier,  earl  of  Ewe  in  Normandy.  He  was  educated 
at  Oxford,  and  was  chancellor  of  that  university  from  1483  to  1437. 
His  first  ecclesiastical  preferment  was  that  of  dean  of  the  collegiate 
church  of  St  Martin's,  London,  from  which,  in  1483,  he  was  advanced 
by  Pope  Eugenius  IV.  to  the  see  of  Worcester.'  Within  one  year  of 
his  elevation  to  the  prelacy,  the  monks  of  Ely,  on  the  death  of  their 
bishop,  made  choice  of  Bourchier  as  his  successor,  but  the  king  refrised 
his  consent  to  the  translation,  and  that  see  continued  vacant  for  seven 
years,  at  the  end  of  which  period  Bourchier  succeeded  in  obtaining 
the  royal  consent  to  his  removal.  The  author  of  the  '  Historia  Elien- 
sis*  accuses  Bourchier  of  neglect  of  duty  and  oppressive  conduct  dur- 
ing the  time  he  filled  that  see :  nevertheless,  it  would  appear,  that 
the  monks  of  Canterbury,  though  lefl  entirely  to  their  own  will  in  the 
matter,  unanimously  elected  him  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  the 
room  of  John  Kemp,  in  1454.  Shortly  after  lus  elevation  to  the  pri- 
macy, he  was  created  cardinal-priest  of  St  Cyriacus  in  Thermis. 

The  cardinal  appears  to  nave  been  a  pious  well-meaning  man,  but 
little  qualified  to  head  the  church  during  so  convulsed  a  period  as  that 
through  which  his  primacy  extended.  Richard's  sophistry  prevailed 
on  him  to  persuade  tbe  queen  to  place  her  infant  son  in  his  murderous 
uncle's  hands,  and  he  l^bando^ed  the  child  .to  his  fate  when  his  own 
credit  and  favour  at  court  ^ight  have  been  endangered  by  any  inter- 
ference on  his  behalf*  Yet,  k  was  probably  to  the  very  mediocrity  of 
his  talents,  and  softness  of  his  character,  that  he  was  indebted  for  his 
own  personal  preservation  during  ^he  fiercest  struggles  of  the  Yorkists 
and  Lancastrians ;  he  saw  successive  princes  of  both  parties  mount  the 
throne,  and  lived  to  perform  the  cereiMony  which  united  the  two  sur- 
viving branches  of  these  deadly  foes,  hav>^  officiated  at  the  marriage 
of  Henry  VII.  and  Elizabeth  of  York.  Fuller  quaintly  observes,  '<  his 
hand  first  held  that  sweet  posie  wherein  the  vhite  and  red  roses  were 
tied  together."  N^ 

Bourchier  was  a  man  of  considerable  learning,  but  we  possess  no 
works  of  his  except  a  few  synodical  decrees.  The  noble  art  of  printing 
lies  under  considerable  obligations  to  him,  if  we  mny  credit  Wood, 
whose  account,  however,  of  the  matter,  is  not  altogether  apcurate.  He 
states,  that  **  the  archbishop  being  informed  that  the  inveptor,  Tossan, 
alias  John  Guthenberg,  had  set  up  a  press  at  Harlem,  whs  extremely 
desirous  that  the  English  should  be  mfule  masters  of  so  beneficial  an 
art.     To  this  purpose  k^  persuaded  King  Heqry  VI.  tq  despatch  one 


Robert  Turnour,  belonging  to  the  wardrobe,  prirately  to  Harlem. 
This  man,  furnished  with  a  thousand  marks,  of  which  the  archbishop 
supplied  three  hundred,  embarked  for  Holland ;  and  to  disguise  the 
matter,  went  in  company  witli  one  Caxton,  a  merchant  of  London,  pre- 
tending himself  to  be  of  the  same  profession*  Thus  concealing  his 
name  and  his  business,  he  went  first  to  Amsterdam,  then  to  Leyden, 
and  at  last  settled  at  Harlem  ;  where,  having  spent  a  great  deal  of  time 
and  money,  he  sent  to  the  king  for  a  fresh  supply,  giving  his  highness 
to  understand,  that  he  had  almost  compassed  the  enterprise.  In  short, 
he  persuaded  Frederick  Corselli,  one  of  the  compositors,  to  cany  off  a 
set  of  letters,  and  embark  with  him  in  the  night  for  London.  When 
they  arrived,  the  archbishop,  thinking  Oxford  a  more  convenient  place 
for  printing  than  London,  sent  Corselli  down  thither;  and  lest  he 
should  slip  away  before  he  had  discovered  the  whole  secret,  a  guard 
was  set  upon  the  press ;  and  thus  the  mjrstery  of  printing  appeared  ten 
years  sooner  in  the  university  of  Oxford  than  at  any  other  place  in 
Europe,  Harlem  and  Mentz  excepted.  Not  long  after,  there  were 
presses  set  up  at  Westminster,  St  Albans,  Worcester,  and  other  monas- 
teries of  note.** 

BORN  A.  D.  1410. — ^DfED  A.  D.  lAOO. 

This  eminent  prelate  and  statesman  was  bom  at  Bere  in  Dorset, 
shire  in  the  year  1410.  He  studied  at  Oxford,  where  he  was  appoint- 
ed principal  of  Peckwater  Inn,  and  moderator  of  the  civil  law  school. 
After  a  variety  of  ecclesiastical  preforments,  he  was  created  archdeacon 
af  Winchester  in  1474,  but  in  the-same  year  was  collated  to  the  arch« 
deaconry  of  Chester.  His  eminent  abilities  as  a  civilian  recommended 
him  to  the  notice  of  Cardinal  Bourchier,  who  introduced  him  to  the 
notice  of  Henry  VI.  In  1473  he  was  created  bishop  of  Ely  and 
lord-chancellor  of  England  by  that  prince.  His  fiuthful  adherence  to 
the  fiunily  of  Edward  IV.  exposed  him  to  the  dreaded  displeasure  of 
the  protector,  Richard,  who  caused  him  to  be  apprdliended  on  a  charge 
of  treason,  but  through  the  intercession  of  the  university  of  Oxford,  or 
some  other  potent  advocate,  was  afterwards  persuaded  to  release  him, 
and  give  him  in  ward  to  the  duke  of  Buckingham.  Soon  after  this,  be 
escaped  from  the  duke's  castle  at  Brecknocl^  and  hastened  in  disguise 
to  the  continent,  where  he  attached  himself  to  the  fortunes  of  Henry, 
earl  of  Richmond.  It  is  understood  to  have  been  chiefly  at  the  insti- 
gation of  this  prelate  that  the  marriage  was  first  suggested  betwixt 
Henry  and  Edward's  eldest  daughter,  Elizabeth,  by  means  of  which 
a  union  was  ultimately  effected  betwixt  the  two  rival  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster. 

As  soon  as  Henry  VII.  was  seated  on  the  throne,  preferment  again 
flowed  in  upon  Morton,  and,  on  the  death  of  Bourchier,  he  was  elect- 
ed to  the  primacy  by  the  monks  of  Canterbury.  In  1487,  he  was  con- 
stituted lord-chancellor  of  England,  which  office  he  retained  tUl  his 
death.  To  the  &vour  in  which  he  stood  with  an  unpopular  sovereign, 
Morton  was  indebted  for  the  dislike  which  the  people,  on  more  occa- 

Bions  than  one,  evinced  towards  him ;  and  it  does  appear  that  the  arch- 
bishop lent  himself,  with  others  of  Henry's  counsellors,  to  the  unjust 
8cliemes  of  that  monarch  for  enriching  his  private  treasury.  But  Mor- 
ton was  himself  a  man  of  constant  and  profuse  liberality.  To  the  uni- 
versity of  Oxford,  he  was  at  all  times  a  munificent  patron,  and  he  ex- 
pended large  sums  in  building  and  repairing  various  public  and  eccle- 
siastical edifices  within  his  diocese.  One  of  the  last  acts  of  his  life 
was  to  procure  the  canonization  of  Anselm,  archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
He  died  on  the  15th  of  September,  1500,  and  was  interred  in  Canter- 
bury cathedral.  His  life  was  written  by  Dr  John  Budden,  in  1607 ; 
Sir  Thomas  More,  in  his  Utopia,  has  pronounced  a  high  eulogium 
upon  this  prelate.  His  contemporaries  speak  of  him  with  much  respect; 
and  we  are  compelled  to  believe,  that  while  he  necessarily  shared  the 
odium  attached  to  all  Henry  the  Seventh's  ministers,  he  acted  the  part 
of  a  true  and  fisiithful  counsellor  towards  his  sovereign,  and  often  gave 
the  king  an  honest  opinion  as  to  the  probable  effect  of  those  measures 
by  which  the  people  ware  so  grievously  distressed  and  irritated. 

DIED  A.  D.  1500. 

John  Alcock,  bbhop  of  Ely  and  lord-high-chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, was  born  at  Beverley  in  the  east  riding  of  Yorkshire.  The  date  of 
his  birth  is  not  recorded;  it  was  probably  somewhere  between  1430  and 
1440.  He  became  a  great  favourite  with  Edward  IV.  who  first  made 
h>m  dean  of  Westminster,  then  bishop  of  Rochester,  in  the  year  1471, 
and  afterwards  keeper  of  the  great  seal  in  1473.  Three  years  after  he 
was  translated  to  the  bishopric  of  Worcester,  and,  in  1486,  to  that  of 
Ely.  In  the  same  year  he  was  appointed  by  Henry  VII.  lord-chancellor 
of  England. 

Bale  speaks  in  high  terms  of  his  piety  and  self-mortification.  By 
others  he  is  commended  for  his  learning.  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  judge 
of  the  amount  of  learning  possessed  by  any  individual  in  those  dark  and 
illiterdte  times.  It  b  certain  that  most  of  the  knowledge  to  be  any  where 
found,  was  among  the  clergy,  and,  in  general,  the  most  distinguished 
among  them  were  conversant  merely  with  school  divinity  and  the  canon 
and  civil  law.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  our  bishop  was 
highly  esteemed  in  his  day,  and  that  his  ecclesiastical  and  civil  honours 
were  the  reward  of  his  talents  and  learning.  On  account  of  his  great  skiU 
and  taste  in  architecture,  Henry  VII.  appointed  him  comptroller  of  the 
royal  works  and  buildings.  While  bishop  of  Worcester,  he  held  the 
office  of  president  of  Wales.  He  employed  his  power  and  riches  to 
some  useful  purposes.  In  the  town  of  Kingston-upon-Hull,  he  built 
and  endowed  a  grammar  school  and  a  chapel  in  which  he  was  buried. 
At  the  episcopal  palace  of  Ely,  he  erected  the  spacious  hall  and  gallery ; 
but  he  was  most  famous  as  the  founder  of  Jesus'  college,  Cambridge. 
Godwin,  in  his  Lives  of  the  Bishops,  gives  the  following  account  of  this 
undertaking.  **  It  was  first  a  monastery  of  nuns,  dedicated  to  Saint 
Radegund,  and  having  fallen  greatly  in  decay,  the  goods  and  ornaments 
of  the  church  wasted,  the  lands  diminished,  and  the  nuns  themselves 

Pjeriod.]  fox,  bishop  of  DURHAM.  151 

having  forsaken  it,  insomuch  as  only  two  were  left,  whereof  one  was 
determined  to  begone  shortly,  the  other  but  an  infant :  this  good  bishop 
obtained  license  of  King  Henry  VII.  to  convert  the  same  to  a  college; 
wherein  he  placed  a  master,  six  fellows,  and  a  cei'tain  number  of  scho- 
lars." The  reason  of  the  demolition  of  this  nunnery  given  by  Camden, 
is  however  very  different.  He  says  it  was  spiritualium  nieretricium 
ccenobium,  and  that  Pope  Julius  H.  with  Henry  VII.  consented  to  its 

The  bishop  died  October  1st,  1500.  "He  lieth**  says  Godwin, 
''  buried  in  a  chappell  of  his  own  building,  on  the  north  side  of  the 
presbytery,  where  it  is  to  be  seen  a  very  goodly  and  sumptuous  tombe, 
erected  in  memory  of  him,  which  by  the  babarous  and  dottish  peevish- 
ness of  somebody  is  pitifully  defaced,  the  head  of  the  image  being 
broke  off,  the  compartiment  and  other  buildings  torne  downe." 

The  bishop  wrote  the  following  works:  1.  *Mons  Perfectionis  ad 
Carthusianos :'  otherwise  called  in  English  the  *  Mount  of  Perfection,' 
London  1501.  2.  ^  Galli  Cantus  ad  Confratres  suos  curatos  in  Synado 
apud  Barnwell,'  1498.  3.  ^Abbatia  Spiritus  sancti  in  Pura  Conscientia 
Fundata.'  The  same  in  English  under  the  title  of '  A  Matere,  spekjng 
of  a  place  that  is  named  the  Abbaje  of  the  Holy  Ghost  that  shall  be 
founded  or  grounded  in  a  clene  conscjence,  in  which  Abbaye  shall 
dwelle  xxix  Ladyes  Ghostly.'  4.  <  In  Psalmos  Penitentiales.'  5.  <  Homilia 
Vulgares.*  6.  *  Meditationes  Piae.'  7.  *  Spousage  of  a  virgin  to  Chrbt ' 
8«  ^  Sermon  on  Jesus  clamabat,  qui  habet  aures  audiendi  audiat.' 

DIED  A.  D.  1528. 

This  eminent  prelate  was  born  towards  the  latter  end  of  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI.,  at  Ropesley,  near  Grantham  in  Lincolnshire.  The 
grammar-schools  of  Boston  and  Winchester  dispute  the  honour  of  his 
early  education.  He  subsequently  studied  first  at  Oxford,  and  then  at 
Cambridge,  from  which  latter  university  he  removed  to  Paris,  w^ere 
he  studied  divinity  and  the  canon  law,  and  probably  received  his  doc- 
tor s  degree.  It  was  during  his  residence  in  the  metropolis  of  Franco 
that  he  became  acquainted  with  Bishop  Morton,  and  through  him  was 
introduced  to  the  earl  of  Richmond,  afterwards  Henry  VII.  That 
nobleman  thought  so  highly  of  his  talents  and  integrity  that  he  em- 
ployed him  in  various  missions  connected  with  his  English  expedition, 
and  rewarded  his  diligence  therein  with  a  seat  in  the  privy-council 
and  some  substantial  appointments,  when  success  had  crowned  their 
exertions.  In  1487,  he  was  advanced  to  the  see  of  Exeter,  and  ap- 
pointed keeper  of  the  privy  seal.  He  was  also,  about  the  same  time, 
made  principal  secretary  of  state.  These  various  appointments  threw 
an  immense  load  of  political  business  upon  the  bishop,  and,  in  addition 
to  his  employments  at  home,  he  was  repeatedly  despatched  upon 
foreign  embassies,  in  all  of  which  he  acquitted  himself  entirely  to  the 
satis^tion  of  the  king,  who  acknowledged  his  services  by  successive 
translations  from  the  see  of  Exeter  to  that  of  Bath,  and  from  Bath  to 
Durham.     In  1497,  he  bravely  defended  the  castle  of  Norham,  in  the 


latter  diocese,  against  the  Scottish  forces,  until  tiie  approach  of  How- 
ard, eari  of  Sorrey,  compelled  the  assailants  to  retire.  Shortly  after  this 
he  was  sent  a  third  time  into  Scotland  for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  a 
treaty  betwixt  the  two  kingdoms.  He  discharged  this  embassy  with  his 
usual  promptitude  and  success,  and  soon  afterwards  added  to  his  many 
important  senrices  that  of  negotiating  a  marriage  betwixt  James  IV.  of 
Scotland  and  Margaret,  Henry's  eldest  daughter.  In  1500,  he  was 
elected  chancellor  of  the  university  of  Cambridge. 

Between  the  years  1507  and  1514,  he  was  repeatedly  employed  in 
missions  to  foreign  courts.  His  last  public  act  appears  to  have  been 
that  of  witnessing  the  treaty  of  amity  between  Henry  YIII.  and 
Francis  I.  His  political  influence,  however,  had  gradually  waned  since 
the  death  of  Henry  VII.  before  the  ascendency,  first,  of  the  earl  of 
Surrey,  and,  afterwards,  of  Wolsey,  who  had  been  first  introduced  by 
Fox  himself.  He  took  leave  of  public  life,  along  with  Archbishop 
Warham,  in  1515,  and  devoted  his  retirement  at  Winchester  to  acts  of 
charity  and  munificence.  Architecture  was  a  favourite  art  of  his  ;  and 
Milner — an  excellent  judge — speaking  of  the  repairs  and  alterations 
which  the  bbhop  executed  upon  his  cathedral  of  Winchester,  declares 
that  *'  if  the  whole  cathedral  had  been  finished  in  the  style  of  this  por- 
tion of  it,  the  whole  island,  and  perhaps  all  Europe,  could  not  have 
exhibited  a  Gothic  structure  equal  to  it.'*  ^  His  last  appearance  in 'par- 
liament was  in  1523.  He  was  then  very  infirm  and  blind ;  but  had 
sufficient  vigour  of  mind  left  to  enable  him  to  reprove,  with  dignity, 
the  greedy  and  ungrateful  Wolsey,  who  wished  him  to  resign  his 
bishopric  to  him,  and  accept  of  a  pension  instead  of  it.  He  died  on 
the  14th  of  December,  1528.  His  character  was  that  of  a  liberal  and 
hospitable  prelate,  magnificent  in  his  taste,  and  unbounded  in  his  chari- 
ties. In  his  political  capacity  he  shofed  great  aptitude  for  public 
business,  and  maintained  a  character  of  unimpeachable  integrity.  Of 
his  writings  we  have  only  a  translation  of  the  *  Rule  of  St  Benedict,' 
executed  for  the  use  of  his  diocese,  and  published  in  1516,  and  a 
letter  to  Cardinal  Wolsey  on  his  intended  visitation  and  reforma- 
tion of  the  English  dioceses.  By  royal  license,  dated  26th  November, 
1516,  Bishop  Fox  founded  and  endowed  Corpus  Christi  college,  in  the 
university  of  Oxford.  In  this  instance,  the  bishop,  as  Mr  Warton  ob- 
serves, made  a  new  and  noble  departure  from  the  narrow  principles 
which  had  hitherto  regulated  academical  education  in  England.  The 
course  of  the  Latin  lecturer  was  thrown  open  to  all  the  students  at  Ox- 
ford, and  he  was  expressly  directed  to  drive  barbarism  from  the  new 
college,—"  barbariem  e  nostro  alveario  pro  virili  si  quando  pullulet,  ex- 
tirpet  et  ejiciat."  The  Greek  lecturer  was  also  enjoined  to  confine  his 
prelections  to  the  best  Greek  classics,  and  those  which  the  bishop  speci- 
fied are  still  allowed  to  ftirnish  the  purest  specimen  of  that  noble  literature. 
With  the  same  enlightened  views,  the  bishop  invited  to  his  new  college 
many  of  the  most  distinguished  sons  of  letters  then  known  in  Europe ; 
amongst  these  was  Ludovicus  Vives,  Nicholas  Crucher,  Clement  Ed- 
wards, Nicholas  Utten,  Thomas  Lupset,  and  Richard  Pace.  Yet, 
strange  to  say,  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  the  university  consent- 
ed to  the  introduction  of  Greek  literature  into  its  curriculum  at  this 

*  Hist,  of  Winchegter,  vol.  ii.  p.  2a 



Pbriod.]  archbishop  WARHAM.  153 

period  ;  and  the  bishop  was  obliged  to  plead  the  authority  of  the  coun* 
cil  of  Vienne  in  Dauphiny,  promulged  in  1311,  which  enjoined  that 
professorships  of  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  Arabic,  should  be  instituted  in 
the  universities  of  Oxford,  Paris,  Bononia,  SaUunanca,  and  Rome. 
Nor  was  even  this  altogether  satisfactory  to  the  masters  of  Oxford ;  it 
required  the  example  and  persuasions  of  Erasmus,  then  residing  iu 
St  Mar}'*s  college,  to  silence  their  objections  and  win  their  consent  to 
the  establishment  of  a  Greek  chair  in  the  university. 

DIED  A.  D.  1532. 

This  distinguished  prelate  was  bom  of  good  fionily,  at  Okely,  in 
Hampshire.  He  was  educated  at  Winchester  school  and  New  college, 
Oxford.  In  1488,  he  was  collated  to  a  rectorship  by  the  bishop  of 
Ely,  and  soon  after  became  an  advocate  in  the  court  of  arches,  and 
moderator  of  the  school  of  civil  law  in  St  Edward's  parish,  Oxford. 
In  1493,  he  was  associated  with  Sir  Edward  Poynings  in  an  embassy 
to  Philip,  duke  of  Burgundy,  to  persuade  him  to  deliver  up  Perkin 
Warbeolu  The  negotiation  failed,  and  Henry  was  at  first  disposed  to 
resent  Ms  on  his  ambassadors,  but,  soon  after,  we  find  Warham  high 
in  favour  with  the  king,  and,  in  1502,  made  keeper  of  the  great  seal. 

In  tbe  beginning  of  1503,  he  was  advanced  to  the  see  of  London,  hav- 
ing been  previously  created  lord-high-chanceUor  of  England.  He  strong- 
ly opposed  the  marriage  of  Catharine  of  Arragon  to  the  king's  second 
SOD,  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband.  Prince  Arthur ;  he  told  the 
king  that  he  thought  the  projected  mateh  would  neither  prove  honour- 
able to  himself  nor  well-pleasing  to  God  ;  but  Fox's  doctrine,  that  the 
pope's  dispensation  could  remove  all  impediments,  civil  or  sacred,  was 
more  pleasing  to  Henry,  and  of  course  prevailed. 

In  March,  1504,  Bishop  Warham  was  elevated  to  the  primacy. 
His  installation  was  conducted  with  great  magnificence.  In  1506,  he 
was  elected  chancellor  of  Oxford — an  honour  to  which  he  was  justly 
entitled,  by  his  munificent  and  well-directed  patronage  of  learning.  On 
the  accession  of  Henry  VIIL  the  archbishop's  influence  waned  before 
that  of  Bishop  Fox,  but  he  held  his  place  of  chancellor  for  the  first 
seven  years  of  the  new  reign.  The  rise  of  Wolsey  into  favour  also 
greatly  contributed  to  lessen  the  archbishop's  influence,  and  ultimately 
drove  him  altogether  from  public  life.  Warham,  says  Burnet,  always 
hated  Cardinal  Wolsey,  and  would  never  stoop  to  him,  esteeming  it 
below  the  dignity  of  his  see.  Erasmus  relates  of  Warham,  that 
it  was  his  custom  to  wear  very  plain  apparel,  and  that  when  Wolsey 
took  upon  him  to  publish  an  order  that  all  the  clergy  should  appear 
richly  dressed  in  silk  or  damask,  at  the  interview  of  Henry  and  Charles, 
Warham,  alone,  despising  the  cardinal's  injunction,  attended  in  his 
usual  simple  garb.  In  December,  1515,  Warham  resigned  the  seals, 
and  Wolsey  became  lord>chancellor.  In  1529,  on  the  degradation  of 
Wolsey,  the  great  seal  was  again  offered  to  Warham,  but  he  prudently 
declined,  at  his  advanced  age,  again  entering  upon  the  stormy  and 
fickle  sea  of  politics.     He,  soon  after  this,  appears  to  have  sunk  into  a 

u.  u 


state  of  dotage;  for  we  find  him  at  one  time  entirely  duped  by  the 
8i]]y  pretences  of  the  '  Holy  Maid  of  Kent,'  as  she  was  called,  and  a4. 
another  exhibiting  a  very  silly  and  unmeaning  protest  against  all  the 
laws  that  had  been  made,  or  that  should  thereafter  be  made,  in  deroga- 
tion of  the  authority  of  the  pope,  or  to  the  hurt  of  the  church's  rights 
and  privileges.  He  died  at  St  Stephen's,  near  Canterbury,  in  1532. 
It  appears,  from  a  letter  of  Erasmus  to  Sir  Thomas  More,  that  this  pre- 
late, notwithstanding  of  his  having  occupied  the  highest  posts  in  cborch 
and  state  for  a  long  series  of  years,  had  so  little  regarded  his  own  pri- 
vate advantage  that  he  left  no  more  than  yi^as  barely  sufficient  to  pay 
his  funeral  charges.  '  *- 

Erasmus  gives  us  a  very  pleasing  account  of  Warham's  private  life. 
"  That,"  says  he,  "  which  enabled  him  to  go  through  such  various 
cases  and  employments,  was,  that  no  part  of  his  time,  nor  no  degree  of 
his  attention,  was  taken  up  with  hunting,  or  gaming,  in  idle  or  trifling 
conversation,  or  in  luxury  or  voluptuousness.     Instead  of  any  diver- 
sions or  amusements  of  this  kind,  he  delighted  in  the  reading  of  some 
good  and  pleasing  author,  or  in  the  conversation  of  some  learned  ntian. 
And  although  he  sometimes  had  prelates,  dukes,  and  earls  as  his  guests, 
he  never  spent  more  than  an  hour  at  dinner.      The  entertainment 
which  he  provided  for  his  friends  was  liberal  and  splendid,  and  suitable 
to  the  dignity  of  his  rank,  but  he  never  touched  any  dainties  of  the 
kind  himself.     He  seldom  tasted  wine ;  and  when  he  had  attained  the 
age  of  seventy  years,  drank  nothing,  for  the  most  part,  but  a  little 
small  beer.     But  notwithstanding  his  great  temperance  and  abstemious- 
ness, he  added  to  the  cheerfulness  and  festivity  of  every  entertainment 
at  which  he  was  present,  by  the  pleasantness  of  his  countenance,  and 
the  vivacity  and  agreeableness  of  his  conversation.     The  same  sobriety 
was  seen  in  him  afler  dinner  as  before.     He  abstained  from  supper 
altogether,  unless  he  happened  to  have  any  very  familiar  friends  with 
him,  of  which  number  I  was ;  when  he  would,  indeed  sit  down  to  table, 
but  then  could  scarcely  be  said  to  eat  any  thing.     If  that  did  not  hap- 
pen to  be  the  case,  he  employed  the  time  by  others  usually  appropriat- 
ed to  suppers,  in  study  or  devotion.     But  as  he  was  remarkably  agree- 
able and  facetious  in  his  discoui'se,  but  without  biting  or  buffoonery,  so 
he  delighted  much  in  jesting  freely  with  his  friends.     But  scurrility,  de- 
famation, or  slander  he  abhorred  and  avoided  as  he  would  a  snake.     In 
this  manner  did  this  great  man  make  his  days  sufficiently  long,  of  the 
shortness  of  which  many  complain." 

BORN  A.D.   1506. — DIED  A.  D.  1533. 

This  learned  and  pious  man  was  bom  at  Westerham,  in  Kent.  He 
proceeded  B.  A.  at  King's  college,  Cambridge,  but  afterwards  went  to 
Oxford,  where  he  obtained  great  reputation  for  learning,  and  was  cho- 
sen one  of  the  junior  canons  of  Cardinal  Wolsey's  new  college.  Be- 
coming acquainted  with  the  celebrated  Tyndale,  he  ultimately  embrao* 
ed  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  as  taught  by  that  eminent  man, 
and,  having  openly  avowed  his  new  sentiments,  he  was  imprisoneJ, 


Period.]  JOHN  FRITH.  155 

b     with  some  other  young  men  of  the  same  conyictions  and  boldness,  by 
ik.     the  chancellor  of  the  university.     The  rigour  of  this  imprisonment  was 
^.     so  severe  that  some  of  his  companions  in  persecution  drooped  under  it, 
but  Frith  ultimately  obtained  his  release,  and,  about  the  year  1528, 
:;  •     went  abroad.     He  continued  on   the  continent  for  about  two  years, 
and  was  greatly  strengthened  in  the  faith  by  intercourse,  during  that 
period,  ivith  many  of  the  German  and  French  reformers.     Returning 
to  England  in  1530,  he  was  apprehended  as  a  common  vagabond,  and 
confined  in  the  stocks  at  Reading,  in  Berks,  where  he  was  in  danger 
of  perishing  with  hunger  but  for  the  interposition  of  the  schoolmaster 
of  the  place,  who,  perceiving  that  Frith  was  a  scholar,  and  well  ac* 
i      quainted  with  the  classics,  interested  himself  in  his  behalf,  and  effected 
his  release.     After  this,  he  went  to  London,  where  he  was  in  continual 
^.      danger    of  apprehension   by   the    commands   of  Sir   Thomas   More, 
':i      the     lord-chancellor,     whose     resentment     was     peculiaily     excited 
\      against    him   by   the  circumstance  of    Frith  having   refuted  one   of 
^      his  own  publications  in  defence  of  the  church  of  Rome.     The  origin 
of  this  controversy  was  as  follows  : — Simon  Fish,  of  Gray  s  inn,  had 
written  a  tract,  entitled,  *  The  Supplication  of  the  Beggars ; '  avowedly 
levelled  against  the  system  of  mendicity  carried  on  by  the  Romish 
friars.     The  work  was  much  admired  by  the  scholars  of  the  time,  and 
even  honoured  with   Henry  the   Eighth's  approbation.     But  the  lord- 
chancellor,  notw  thstanding,  ventured  to  answer  it  hi  a  tract,  entitled, 
*  The  Supplication  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory ; '  in  which  he  defended 
the  friars,  on  the  ground  of  the  value  of  their  exertions  in  relieving 
souls  from  purgatory.     Frith,  hereupon,  answered  the  chancellor,  and 
boldly  denied  the  doctrine  of  purgatory  altogether.     So  daring  a  step 
marked  him  out  for  the  vengeance  of  the  church ;  but,  for  a  while,  he 
eluded  all  the  efforts  of  his  enemies  to  secure  his  person.     At  last,  he 
was  betrayed  into  their  hands  by  the  treachery  of  a  false  friend,  who, 
having  procured  a  copy  of  a  proposition,  written  by  Frith,  against  the 
doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  immediately  carried  it  to  the  chancellor 
with  information  where  the  heretic  might  be  apprehended.    Sir  Thomas 
instantly  ordered  him  to  be  seized  and  sent  to  the  Tower,  where  he  un- 
derwent several  examinations  by  the  lord-chancellor  in  person.    In  one 
instance,  he  was  brought  before  an  assembly  of  bishops,  convened  in 
St  Paul's  cathedral,  before  whom  he  openly  defended  his  opinions, 
and  subscribed  them  in  the  following  sentence  : — "  Ego  Frithius  ita  sen- 
tio,  et  quemadmodum  sentio,  ita  dixi,  scripsi,  asserui,  et  affirmavi." 
On  this,  he  was  pronounced  incorrigible,  and  condemned  to  the  fire. 
He  suffered  martyrdom  at  Smithfield,  on  the  4th  of  July,  1533,  when 
only  twenty-six  years  of  age.     Ati  opportunity  of  making  his  escape 
had  occurred  some  time  before  his  condemnation,  but  he  refused  to 
avail  himself  of  it,  fearing  that  by  so  doing  he  should  dishonour  the 
gospel  of  Christ.    Bale  says  that  Frith  was  a  "  polished  scholar,  as  well 
as  master  of  the  learned  languages."     And  Fox  assures  us  that  Cran- 
mer  was  indebted  for  many  of  his  arguments  in  his  work  on  the  sacra- 
ment, to  Frith^s  writings.     His  works  were  printed  in  London,  in  one 
folio  volume,  in  1573.     He  seems,  with  Tyndale  and  Barnes,,  to  have 
leaned  to  Presbyterianism,  so  far  as  he  had  considered  the  question  of 


eiiiaUtti  Darton. 

DIED  A.D.  I534i. 

Elizabeth  Barton,  better  known  as  *  The  Holy  Maid  of  Kent, 
was  first  a  servant  giri.  She  was  bom  early  in  the  16th  century,  and 
resided  at  Aldington  in  Kent.  In  the  year  1525,  she  was  in  the  ser« 
\-ice  of  a  Mr  Cob  or  Knob,  at  Aldington,  near  Limme,  formerly  a  port 
about  four  miles  from  Romney  Marsh.  The  commencement  of  her  de- 
lusion and  imposture  is  traced  to  convulsion  fits  which  occasionally 
seized  her,  and  continued  for  a  period  of  extraordinary  l^igth,  and 
seem  very  much  to  have  resembled  swoons,  commencing  in  strange  agi* 
tations  of  her  body,  but  the  reality  of  which,  even  in  their  commence- 
ment, there  is  much  reason  to  suspect.  Reviving  from  one  of  these  fits, 
in  which  it  is  reported  she  had  lain  for  seven  months,  she  inquired  if 
her  master's  child  was  dead — ^for  it  was  at  the  time  lying  desperately  ill 
in  its  cradle, — and  being  answered  in  the  negative — then  said  she,  "  it 
shall  die  anon."  This,  accordingly,  having  taken  place,  she  was  imme- 
diately viewed  with  superstitious  dread  and  astonishment,  although 
every  one  expected  the  death  of  the  child.  The  ignorant  and  credulous 
multitude  soon  blazoned  abroad  the  fiime  of  this  alleged  prophecy, 
which  being  also  patronized  by  the  priest  of  the  parish,  soon  spread 
through  the  neighbourhood  in  all  directions.  It  was  a  happy  occur- 
rence, at  that  critical  conjuncture,  for  supporting  the  interests  of  a 
falling  church,  and  as  such  was  eagerly  seized  by  the  ecclesiastics.  The 
young  woman  was  easily  induced  to  turn  her  talents  at  imposture  into 
this  line.  She  enforced  the  obligation  of  the  mass,  confession,  prayers 
to  saints,  with  all  the  superstitions  of  the  church,  by  her  authority  as 
one  inspired.  To  give  her  admonitions  and  reproofs  more  weight,  she 
related  strange  visions  of  things  God  had  ^hown  her,  professed  to  de- 
scribe what  was  passing  in  chapels  or  churches  at  a  distance,  and  by 
various  other  delusions  gained  an  extensive  reputation  as  a  prophetess 
It  was  not  among  the  vulgar  alone  that  her  imposture  succeeded.  The 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Dr  Warham,  and  Dr  Fisher,  bishop  of 
Rochester,  with  no  less  a  person  than  Sir  Thomas  More,  were  induced 
to  believe  that  there  was  something  of  inspiration  and  miracle  attend- 
ing the  case;  and  they  appointed  certain  commissioners  to  inquire  into  it, 
whose  report  greatly  contributed  to  the  support  and  prevalence  of  the 
imposture.  To  seal  the  sanctity,  and  to  secure  the  credit  of  this  miracle 
to  the  service  of  the  Romish  church,  Elizabeth  Barton^  was  now  conse- 
crated a  nun,  and  a  day  fixed  for  her  public  entry  into  a  chapel  at  Courtop- 
street  or  Court-of-street,  dedicated  to  the  virgin.  This  ceremony,  accord- 
ingly took  place  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  concourse  of  attendants  of  all 
orders.  Being  in  the  chapel,  she  fell  into  one  of  her  fits  immediately 
before  the  image,  and  uttered  some  speeches  in  rhythm  tending  to  re- 
commend the  worship  and  service  of  the  virgin  Mary ;  and  at  the  same 
time  she  said  it  was  the  will  of  our  Lady  that  she  (Elizabeth)  should 
be  put  into  some  nunnery.  This  was  accordingly  complied  with,  and 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  ordered  her  to  be  received  into  Saint 
Sepulchres  at  Canterbury.     Here  this  poor  infatuated  young  woman 

Pbmod.]  ELIZABETH  BABTOX.  157 

became  increasingly  the  dupe  and  the  tool  of  superstition.   She  eontioQcd, 
as  it  was  said,  to  work  ^li^acles>  and  receive  divine  visions,  for  about 
eight  or  nine  yearSf  when  an  opportunity  occurred  of  turning  bei 
impostures  to  political  purposes.     The  question  of  King  Henry  the 
Eighth's  divorce  from  Queen  Catharine  was  now  sharply  controverted 
on  both  sides,  and  was  violently  opposed  by  the  ecclesiastics.     They 
accordingly  called  in  the  services  of  Elizabeth  Barton,  instructed  her 
to  denounce  the  king's  intentions  and  the  ecclesiastical  innovations  he 
had  made.     She  went  even  so  far  as  to  declare  that  he  would  not  be  a 
king  a  month  longer  if  he  divorced  Catharine,  that  he  would  not  enjoy 
the  &vour  of  the  Almighty,  and  that  he  would  die  the  death  of  a  villain. 
The  monks  disseminated  eveiywhere  the  sayings  of  the  holy  maid,  and 
one  During,  a  friar,  published  a  book  of  the  revelations  and  prophecies 
of  Elizabeth.     Her  sayings  concerning  the  divorce  were  conveyed  es« 
pecially  to  the  queen,  whom  they  tended  to  confirm  in  her  purpose  of 
resisting  to  the  utmost  the  king's  will.     But  Henry  VIII.  was  not  a 
monarch  to  be  overawed  and  ruled  in  his  purposes  by  such  machina- 
tions.    He  accordingly  ordered  the  maid  of  Kent  to  be  arrested,  and 
all  her  accomplices  cited  before  the  star  chamber.     There  she  openly 
confessed  her  imposture,  and  with  the  whole  party,  viz.  Masters,  the 
parson  of  the  parish  where  she  had  lived.   During,  Booking,  Reit, 
Risby,  and  Grold,  suffered  death  at  Paul's  cross,  AprU,  1534.     Neither 
did  the  resentment  of  the  king  stop  here.     Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester, 
a  man  of  ability  and  learning,  Abel,  Addison,  Laurence,  and  some 
others  were  condemned  for  misprision  of  treason,  and  sentenced  to  con- 
fiscation of  goods  and  imprisonment,  because  they  had  not  discovered 
certain  treasonable  speeches  of  Elizabeth.     The  better  to  undeceive 
the  people  and  discover  the  wicked  proceedings  of  the  priests,  many  of 
Elizabeth's  impostures  were  exposed,  and  the  scandalous  prostitution  of 
her  manners  laid  open  to  public  view.     It  was  found  that  a  door  to 
her  dormitory,  which  w^s  said  to  have  been  miraculously  opened,  in 
order  to  give  her  free  access  to  the  chapel,  for  the  sake  of  secret  con- 
verse with  heaven,  had  been  contrived  by  Booking  and  Masters,  for 
less  honourable  purposes.     Fisher,  the  bishop  of  Rochester,  who  had 
been  cast  into  prison  for  his  concealment  of  Elizabeth's  treasons,  and 
who  had  suffered  many  hardships  there,  was  honoured  by  the  pope 
with  the  |«nk  of  %j0e^nal;  but  this  only  inflamed  the  king's  resentment 
to  a  higher  $flch,  and  Fisher  was  in  consequence  impeached,  tried, 
condepmed,  and  beheaded;  and  shortly  after,  Sir  Thomas  More,  who 
had  also  been  imprisoned  for  connivances  at    Elizabeth's  treason, 
was  brought  to  the  same  violent  and  ignoble  end.     Thus  an  ignorant 
and  base  girl  was  not  ooiy  the  origin  of  an  extensive  and  disgusting 
imposture,  but  the  occasion  of  bringing  several  of  the  most  distinguished 
men  of  the  day,  and  probably  the  queen  herself  to  a  disgraceful  and 
miserable  ^nd.     Never  was  there  a  more  barefaced,  and  seldom  a  more 
baneful  impostvre  than  that  of  *  the  Holy  Maid  of  Kent' 


BORN   A.  D.   1459. — DIED  A.  D.   1535. 

John  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  was  born  at  Beverley  in  York- 
shire, in  the  year  1459.  He  took  his  degrees  at  Cambridge,  and  was 
made  proctor  of  that  university  in  1495.  The  same  year  he  was  elect- 
ed master  of  Michael  house,  since  incorporated  with  Trinity  college, 
and  soon  after  entered  into  orders.  He  received  his  first  ecclesiastical 
elevation  at  the  hands  of  Margaret,  countess  of  Richmond,  mother  of 
Henry  VIL,  who  appointed  him  her  chaplain  and  confessor,  and  com- 
mitted herself  entirely  to  his  guidance  and  counsel.  In  1501,  he  was 
chosen  chancellor  of  Cambridge  university,  and  in  1502,  was  appointed 
the  lady  Margaret's  first  professor  of  divinity. 

In  1504,  he  was  raised  to  the  see  of  Rochester  upon  the  recommenda- 
tion of  Bishop  Fox.  Upon  Luther  s  appearance  in  opposition  to  po- 
pery, Fisher,  ever  a  zealous  champion  for  the  church  of  Rome,  was 
one  of  the  first  to  enter  the  lists  against  him.  He  also  did  not  hesitate 
to  condemn  in  public  the  stateliness  and  pride  with  which  the  then  all- 
powerful  Wolsey  bore  himself,  yet  he  continued  to  enjoy  the  king's  fa- 
vour until  the  business  of  the  divorce  in  1527,  when  his  adherence  to 
Catharine's  cause  and  the  pope's  supremacy  brought  him  into  no  small 
trouble,  and  ultimately  proved  the  cause  of  his  ruin.  He  also  warmly 
opposed  the  first  motion  in  parliament  for  the  suppression  of  the  lesser 
monasteries,  and  made  himself  particularly  obnoxious  to  Henry  by  the 
warm  opposition  which  he  gave  in  convocation  to  the  proposal  for 
conferring  upon  the  king  of  England  the  title  of  supreme  head  of  the 
church.  The  aiFair  of  Elizabeth  Barton  was  eagerly  seized  by  his  ene- 
mies as  a  pretext  against  him ;  but  his  determined  refusal  to  take  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  Henry  and  his  heirs,  after  his  marriage  with  Anne 
Boleyn  and  the  repudiation  of  Catharine,  was  made  the  capital  charge 
against  him.  For  this  offence  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower  in  April, 
1534,  attainted  in  November,  and  deprived  of  his  bishopric  in  the 
month  of  January  following. 

The  unseasonable  honour  paid  him  by  Pope  Paul  III.,  in  creating 
him  cardinal  priest  of  St  Vitalis,  in  May,  1535,  sealed  his  fate.  Secre- 
tary Cromwell  being  sent  to  him  by  the  king  to  sound  him  on  the 
subject,  after  some  conference,  said,  "  My  lord  of  Rochester,  what 
would  you  say  if  the  pope  should  send  you  a  cardinal's  hat, — ^would 
you  accept  of  it?"  To  which  interrogatory  the  bishop  replied  in  terms 
expressive  of  his  unworthiness  of  such  a  distinguished  honour,  and  the 
little  expectation  he  had  of  it,  but  at  the  same  time  frankly  declaring  that 
if  such  a  thing  were  to  happen,  he  would  deem  himself  bound  to  ac- 
cept of  the  honour  with  all  gratitude,  and  would  endeavour  to  use  it 
for  the  best  interests  of  the  church.  When  this  answer  was  reported 
to  Henry,  he  exclaimed  in  his  own  brutal  style,  "  Yea,  is  he  yet  so 
lusty  ?  Well,  let  the  pope  send  him  a  hat  when  he  will,  motiher  of 
God  I  he  shall  wear  it  on  his  shoulders  then,  for  I  will  leave  him  never 
a  head  to  set  it  on."  Rich,  the  solicitor-general,  was  now  employed  to 
circumvent  the  poor  old  man,  which  he  did  by  visiting  him  in  prison, 
and,  after  much  affectation  of  friendship,  drawing  him  into  a  discourse 

Period.]  WILLIAM  TTNDALE.  159 

about  the  supremacy.  Some  expressions  which  the  bishop  in  his 
warmth  let  drop  upon  this  point  were  eagerly  noted  by  his  treacherous 
visitant,  and  made  the  ground-work  of  his  impeachment.  He  was 
found  guilty  of  high  treason  on  the  17th,  and  beheaded  on  the  22d  of 
June,  1535.     He  met  his  fate  with  extreme  fortitude. 

Erasmus  speaks  of  this  prelate  in  very  flattering  terms,  and,  by  gen 
eral  consent,  he  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  very  high  attainments 
for  the  age  in  literature,  and  of  consistent  morals.  He  was  the  author 
of  several  polemical  pieces  in  defence  of  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  the 
Romish  church  against  Luther  and  CEcolampadius.  His  writings 
were  collected  and  published  together  at  Wurtzburg,  in  1595,  in  one 
volume,  folio.  His  life  by  Dr  Hall,  under  the  name  of  Bailey,  was 
published  in  1655. 

BORN  CIRC.  A.  D.  1500. — DIED  A.  D.   1536. 

William  Tindal,  or  Tyndale,  was  bom  in  or  near  the  year  1500, 
somewhere  upon  the  borders  of  Wales.  But  nothing  has  been  preserved 
respecting  his  parentage  or  the  place  of  his  nativity.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  doctrines  of  Wickliffe  had  been  privately  disseminated  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  in  South  Wales,  and  that  Sir  John  Oldcastle  himself  re- 
sided upon  the  borders  for  some  time,  and  diligently  promoted  the  senti- 
ments of  that  celebrated  reformer.  It  is  highly  probable  that  in  his  early 
life,  Tyndale  had  been  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  reformation — ^for  we  find 
that  almost  as  soon  as  he  appeared  at  college,  he  displayed  a  disposition 
to  espouse  the  doctrines  of  Luther.  He  first  entered  at  Magdalen  hall, 
Oxford,  where,  it  is  said,  he  very  early  read  theological  discourses  in 
private  to  his  fellow  students.  After  this  he  removed  to  Wolsey's  new 
college,  called  Christ's  Church.  Here  he  became  still  more  bold,  and 
ventured  openly  to  profess  and  defend  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation. 
He  is  said  to  have  been  a  person,  even  at  this  early  period,  of  eminent 
abilities  and  of  unusual  learning.  But  his  opposition  to  the  abuses  of 
the  church  could  not  be  tolerated  in  Oxford,  and  he  was,  therefore, 
e  spelled  before  he  had  taken  any  degree.  He  next  removed  to  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  was  permitted  to  remain,  and  take  a  degree.  From 
thence  he  went  into  Gloucestershire  or  Worcestershire,  as  a  tutor  in 
the  family  of  Sir  John  Welsh.  Here  his  first  literary  engagement,  of 
which  at  least  any  knowledge  has  descended  to  later  times,  was  a  trans- 
lation of  the  '  Enchiridion  Militis  Christiani'  of  Erasmus.  It  was  in- 
tended for  the  religious  benefit  of  the  family  in  which  he  resided. 
During  this  period  of  his  life,  it  appears  that  he  found  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  preaching,  and  especially  in  the  city  of  Bristol.  It  is  recorded 
tliat  he  stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  Sir  John  Welsh,  and  of  many 
others  in  his  neighbourhood.  Indeed  it  may  well  be  conjectured,  that 
so  learned  and  zealous  a  reformer  would  extensively  recommend  the 
truth,  in  an  age  of  darkness  and  corruption.  But  it  is  no  less  obvious 
that,  in  doing  so,  he  would  expose  himself  to  the  malice  of  those 
whose  interests  were  implicated  in  the  errors  and  corruptions  of  the 
times.     We  find  accordingly,  that  Tyndale  made  himself  odious  to  some 

160  ECCXESUSnCAL  SEBIES.  (Toubth 

of  the  ecclesiastical  ruitora  at  Sir  John  Welsh's,  by  entering  boldly  into 
theological  discussion  with  them.  The  effect  was  a  general  prejudice 
raised  against  him  as  a  heretic*  and  at  length,  an  impeachment  by  the 
chancellor  of  the  diocese.  Tyndale,  however,  appeared  with  great 
courage  to  answer  to  the  articles  of  impeachment,  and  defeiided  himself 
with  such  rigour  and  ability  that  his  adversaries  were  confounded  and 
constrained  to  release  him.  This  defeat  only  deepened  their  resolution 
of  revenge.  Their  purpose  of  crushing  him  was  merely  held  in  check 
for  a  time,  not  abandoned*  They  resorted  to  a  system  of  perpetual 
annoyance  and  oppression,  and  at  length  compelled  him  to  leave  the 
country  and  repair  to  London.  Here,  however,  he  enjoyed  ample  op- 
portunities of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  extensive  and  insupport- 
able corruptions  of  the  church,  as  well  as  with  the  extreme  ignorance 
and  incompetence  of  the  clergy.  During  this  period  he  occasionally 
preached  at  St  Dunstan  in  the  West,  and  often  engaged  in  disputation 
with  the  defenders  of  popery.  He  was  known  frequently  to  challenge, 
in  the  boldness  and  confidence  of  truth,  the  blind  guides  of  the  day, 
and  to  declare  that  the  period  was  approaching  when  the  rudest  peasant 
with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  would  be  superior  to  the  best  of  them  in 
that  knowledge  which  leads  to  everlasting  life.  At  this  early  period, 
Tyndale  had  amassed  a  knowledge  of  the  holy  scriptures  and  of  col- 
lateral learning  possessed  by  few  at  that  day,  and  this  gave  him  an 
amazing  advantage  in  all  his  controversies  with  the  priestoood,  few  of 
whom  had  ever  read  the  scriptures,  and  many  of  whom  had  never 
seen  a  single  copy  of  them  in  their  lives.  It  was  during  his  residence  in 
London,  that  he  formed  the  determination  of  translating  the  Scriptures 
into  English,  and  commenced  its  execution.  He  knew  well  the  danger 
of  such  an  undertaking ;  he  was  well  aware  of  the  opposition  excited 
against  A^^ldiffe,  and  the  hnal  miscarriage  of  all  his  labours  in  the  same 
project^rough  the  malignity  of  the  bishops  and  clergy  nearly  a  century 
before. ''  But  he  was  not  to  be  scared  from  his  undertaking  by  threats, 
nor  defeated  by  trifling  difficulties.  He  proceeded  to  collect  his  mate- 
rials with  much  care  and  judgment,  and  to  communicate  his  purpose  to 
his  friends.  He  embraced  the  object  with  all  the  ardour  of  an  enthu- 
siast, and  pursued  it  with  the  heroism  of  a  martyr.  While  he  was  ad- 
vancing with  his  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  he  endeavoured  to  obtain 
an  appointment  under  Bi&hop  Tunstal,  whom  Erasmus  had  praised  as 
an  eminent  scholar ;  and  on  applying  to  that  prelate  for  a  chaplain- 
ship,  as  a  proof  of  his  qualifications,  he  produced  an  English  trans- 
lation of  an  oration  of  Isocrates.  But  in  this  attempt  he  was  unsuc- 
cessful, and  after  his  ^lure  retired  into  privacy  for  about  half  a  year, 
to  complete  his  translation  of  the  New  Testament  He  employed  un- 
wearied assiduity  in  perfecting  this  great  work,  in  which  it  will  be 
readily  believed,  he  found  little  help  in  the  learning  of  the  age,  and 
scarcdy  a  firiend  who  would  venture  to  become  a  coadjutor  or  even 
sanction  the  undertaking.  Having  alone  accomplished  his  task,  he 
looked  around  him  for  the  means  of  publication,  but  finding  none,  and*" 
discovering  that  the  attempt  would  expose  him  to  imminent  danger  at 
home,  he  t^esolved  to  seek  an  asylum  among  the  reformers  of  the  con- 
tinent. To  enable  him  to  effect  his  purpose,  providence  rabed  him  lip 
a  firiend  in  Henry  Monmouth,  who  supplied  him  with  money,  and 
thereby  enabled  him  to  leave  London.     Abroad,  he  speedily  obtained 

Period.]  WILLIAM  TYNDALE.  161 

the  aoquaintanoe  of  Luther>  and  other  learned  men,  who  sanctioned  hit 
preaching  among  his  own  countrymen  at  Antwerp  and  its  vicifiity.  In 
1526,  he  obtained  the  friendship  and  assistance  of  John  Frith,  a  learned 
Englishman,  by  whose  assistance  he  was  encouraged  to  publish  the  first 
edition  of  his  New  Testament.  It  appeared  in  small  octavo  without  a 
name.  Fifteen  hundred  were  first  published.  These  were  brought 
into  England  and  privately  circulated.  The  clergy  were  mightily  dis- 
pleased at  this  attempt.  The  utmost  diligence  was  used  in  endeavour- 
ing to  collect  and  destroy  the  copies.  But  the  more  it  was  condemned 
the  more  eagerly  was  it  sought  after  and  read ;  insomuch  that  the  Dutch 
booksellers  printed  and  sold  four  editions  of  it  without  the  sanction  of 
Tyndale.  While  they  were  thus  making  a  gain  of  his  labours,  he  was 
proceeding  with  a  translation  of  the  five  books  of  Moses,  with  the  in- 
tention of  their  publication.  After  the  disgrace  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
who  had  suffered  no  person  to  be  persecuted  for  heresy  while  he  was 
in  power,  Sir  Thomas  More  persuaded  the  king  to  enforce  the  laws 
against  heresy,  and  to  prevent  the  importation  of  books  from  the  con- 
tinent. Tonstal  also  collected  what  copies  of  Tyndale's  Testament 
could  be  collected,  and  had  them  burnt  by  the  hands  of  the  common 
hangman  in  Cheapside. 

There  is  a  curious  and  interesting  circumstance  related  of  Tonstal 
in  reference  to  the  labours  of  Tyndale,  which  among  the  few  &cts  of 
Tyndale's  history  ought  to  be  preserved.     Being  at  Antwerp  in  the  year 

1529,  the  bbhop  sent  for  an  English  merchant  of  the  name  of  Pacldng* 
ton,  and  inquired  of  him  how  many  copies  of  Tjrndale's  New  Testa* 
raent  he  could  purchase.  The  merchant  immediately  made  Tyndale 
acquainted  with  the  bishop's  proposal.  Being  poor  and  in  want  of  the 
means  of  publishing  a  new  and  revised  edition,  he  immediately  con- 
tracted for  the  sale  of  all  his  remaining  copies.  For  these  he  received 
ready  money ;  the  books  were  brought  to  England  and  destroyed,  but 
a  new  and  corrected  edition  was  speedily  on  sale.  This  occasioned 
much  merriment  at  the  expense  of  the  bishop.  For,  Sir  Thomas  More 
inquiring  who  encouraged  and  supported  Tyndale,  was  told,  it  was  the 
bishop  of  London.  In  order  to  check  all  similar  efforts  and  to  dis- 
courage Tyndale  in  his  further  proceedings.  Sir  Thomas  ridiculed  the 
version  in  a  dialogue  which  was  published  in  1529.  To  this  Tyndale 
wrote  a  large  and  able  reply,  but  with  little  effect  upon  tlie  mind  of  his 
enemies  at  home ;  for  in  a  court  of  the  star-chamber,  the  king,  with  the 
concurrence  of  the  universities,  the  clergy  and  bishops,  condemned  and 
prohibited  his  version  as  heretical. 

Undaunted  by  these  efforts  to  repress  his  labours,  he  proceeded  with 
his  translations  from  the  Old  Testament ;  but  in  removing  about  this 
period  by  sea  to  Hamburgh,  was  shipwrecked  and  lost  all  his  books, 
manuscripts  and  money.  Having,  however,  in  the  midst  of  all  these 
difficulties  made  hb  way  to  Hamburgh,  he  met  with  Miles  Coverdale, 
who  was  also  engaged  in  the  translation  of  the  scriptures.  They 
became  intimate  friends,  and  proceeded  together  to  accomplish  a  new 
translation  of  the  Pentateuch,  which  they  published  at  Marbui^  about 

1530.  It  is  doubtful  whether  they  made  their  translation  from  the 
Vulgate  Latin  or  from  the  Hebrew.  If  they  took  the  Vulgate  as  their 
text,  it  is  probable  that  they  consulted  the  Hebrew  in  the  ease  of  difficul- 
ties; but  it  is  questioned  whether  they  were  sufficiently  masters  of  that 

II.  X 


language  to  make  their  Tenion  directly  ^m  it,  without  the  intenreu- 
tion  of  a  version. 

These  labours,  with  the  occauonal  revision  of  his  New  Testament, 
occupied  Tyndale  till  the  year  1534.  The  fourth  surreptitious  edition 
of  his  Testament,  which  was  published  before  his  own  seccmd,  was 
fuperintended  by  one  George  Joy,  a  Bedfordshire  man,  who  made 
some  alterations.  This  edition  was  printed  at  Antwerp  in  August, 
1534.  Tyndale  had  by  this  time  proceeded  in  the  Old  Testament  as 
far  as  Nehemiah.  But  while  he  was  thus  advancing  in  his  benevolent 
efforts,  his  former  friend  and  fellow-labourer,  John  Frith,  was  seized  in 
England  and  cast  into  the  Tower,  and  some  time  after,  a  seeret  plan  was 
formed  for  effecting  the  destruction  of  Tyndale.  It  will  excite  no 
astonishment  that  so  accomplished  an  advocate  of  the  ReformatioD,  so  able 
a  translator  of  that  book  which  the  church  of  Rome  has  always  deeply 
feared  and  pertinaciously  kept  from  the  people,  that  so  intrepid  a  foe 
to  ecclesiastical  corruptions  and  abominations,  should  become  the  object 
of  universal  hatred  and  of  an  exterminating  rancour  which  could  never 
rest  till  it  found  the  means  of  entire  satis&ction. 

Having  removed  back  frt^m  Hambui^h  to  Antwerp,  Tyndale  formed 
an  acquaintance  with  one  Henry  Phillips,  employed,  it  is  said,  by  the 
Engibh  bishops,  for  the  purpose  of  luring  Tyndale  to  his  destruction. 
After  Phillips  had  lived  with  him  for  many  months,  he  went  secretly  to 
Brussels  and  obtained  the  sanction  and  aid  of  imperial  authority.  He 
returned  to  Antwerp  with  the  emperor's  attorney  and  other  officers. 
He  next  invited  Tyndale  out  to  dinner,  and  waited  himself  to  accom- 
pany his  friend.  Accepting  this  invitation  with  some  reluctance,  the 
good  man  left  his  house  in  company  with  Phillips,  who,  on  passing  the 
threshold,  gave  a  sign  like  Judas  to  the  officers.  Rushing  upon  their 
victim  with  fririous  haste  they  dragged  him  instantly  away.  The  same 
day  the  emperor's  attorney  took  possession  of  all  his  papers  and  effeets. 
From  Antwerp  he  was  conveyed  to  the  castle  of  Filford,  where  he  re» 
mained  a  year  and  six  months  in  close  confinement.  During  this  time 
the  utmost  exertions  were  made  by  the  English  merchants  at  Antwerp, 
by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Poyntz  with  whom  he  had  lodged,  and  by 
others  to  obtain  his  release.  Lord  Cromwell  also  wrote  to  the  emperor 
to  the  same  effect,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Tyndale's  fidelity  and  com- 
posure were,  however,  nothing  shaken  by  these  persecutions.  He  pur- 
sued his  reforming  labours  even  in  prison,  and  made  converts  of  his 
gaoler  and  several  of  his  family.  At  length  he  was  brought  to  trial  at 
Augsburgh,  and  condemned  to  be  strangled  and  burnt :  the  sentence 
was  carried  into  effect  in  the  year  153b.  The  last  words  he  uttered 
were,  **  Lord,  open  the  king  of  England's  eyes." 

He  lived  for  the  benefit  of  mankind,  and  died  a  martyr  in  the  cause 
of  religion.  Of  his  character,  his  enemies  have  left  a  memorial  with 
which  his  friends  might  be  satisfied,  that  he  was  '^  homo  doctus,  pius,  vt 
bonus."  His  life  and  manners  were  pure  and  blameless,  yet  he  died 
by  the  hands  of  Christians  for  promoting  the  use  of  that  document 
which  is  the  foundation  of  their  religion.  In  his  preface  to  the  New 
Testament,  he  writes,  '*  I  call  God  to  witness,  when  I  shall  appear  at  the 
Judgment  seat  of  Christ,  to  give  an  account  of  all  my  actions,  that  I 
have  not  altered  one  syllable  of  God's  word  against  my  conscience,  nor 
would  I  for  all  the  honours  of  this  world,  if  they  were  laid  at  my  feet** 

Fkpioi/.]  JOHN  BRADFORD.  163 

The  pedigree  of  our  authorized  version  i»  no  doubt  to  be  traced  back 
to  Tyndale.  It  appears  indeed  that  there  never  has  been  an  entirely 
new  translation  of  the  Bible  since  the  days  of  Coverdale  and  Tyndale. 
Different  editions  have  from  time  to  time  been  sent  out*  with  some 
alterations,  made  under  authority,  but  for  the  basis  of  the  text  we  are 
indebted  at  the  present  day  to  these  two  humble  individuals,  and  chieHy 
to  Tyndale — a  man  who  so  ardently  desired  to  communicate  to  his 
countrymen  the  knowledge  of  the  word  of  God,  that  he  continually 
hazarded  his  life  and  all  his  earthly  comforts  in  endeavouring  to  effect 
it,  and  at  last  paid  the  awful  price  of  martyrdom  for  his  benevolence. 

His  other  works,  which  were  published  and  read  with  great  avidity, 
were,  !•  ^  The  obedience  of  a  Chri^ian  man.'  2.  *  The  wicked  Mammon.' 
3.  ^  The  practice  of  Prelates.'  4.  <  An  answer  to  Sir  Thomas  More.'  5. 
*  Expositions  of  Important  passages  of  Scripture'  and  some  smaller 
works.  All  his  pieces  were  collected  and  printed  with  those  of  Frith  and 
Barnes,  in  one  vol.  folio,  1572.  Dr  Geddes  speaks  in  high  terms  of  the 
version  by  Tyndale,  and  thinks  that  in  point  of  perspicuity  and  noble 
simplicity  it  has  never  been  surpassed.  The  whole  works  of  Tyndale, 
including  his  prologues  to  his  several  translations  of  the  books  of  so'ip* 
ture  with  numerous  entertaining  and  illustrative  notes,  have  been  re- 
printed in  the  *  English  and  Scottish  Relbrmers,'  edited  by  Rev.  T 

SKoj^tt  iSraliforV. 

DIED  ▲.  o.  1555. 


This  eminent  martyr  was  born  at  Manchester,  in  Lancashire.  In 
early  life  he  became  steward  of  the  household  to  Sir  John  Harring- 
ton, but,  on  imbibing  the  pure  doctrines  of  the  gospel  from  some  of 
the  foreign  protestants  then  in  England,  he  resolved  to  dedicate  his 
luture  life  to  the  service  of  preaching  Christ.  He  accordingly 
went  to  Cambridge,  and,  after  due  attendance,  was  chosen  fellow  of 
Pembroke  hall.  His  principal  tutor,  while  at  the  university,  was 
Martin  Bucer,  who  soon  discovered  the  worth  of  his  pupil,  and  greatly 
assisted  and  encouraged  him  in  his  preparations  for  the  ministry.  On 
taking  orders,  he  was  presented  by  Dr  Ridley,  then  bishop  of  London, 
with  a  prebendal  stall  in  St  Paul's.  Immediately  after  Mary's  acces- 
sion, Bradford  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  and,  on  the  22d  of  Jan- 
uary, 1555,  he  was  brought  before  the  commissioners  appointed  for 
his  trial.  At  the  close  of  the  examination,  the  lord-chancellor  offered 
mercy  if  the  prisoner  would  accept  of  it  on  the  queen's  terms ;  where- 
upon Bradford  replied,  '*  Mercy,  with  God's  mercy,  should  be  wel- 
come ;  but  otherwise  I  will  have  none."  His  execution  took  place  at 
Smithfield  on  the  1st  of  July,  1555.  During  his  imprisonment,  he 
chiefly  occupied  himself  in  preaching  to  the  other  prisoners,  and  to 
those  who,  attracted  by  the  fame  of  his  extraordinary  gifts  as  a  preach- 
er and  expounder  of  the  scriptures,  crowded  to  hear  him  in  the  Poultry 
Compter,  by  permission  of  the  gaoler.     He  also  devoted  much  of  his 

'  f'ok's  Acts  and  Monumenti.— Middielon. — Lives  of  the  Reformers. 

time  to  the  compilation  of  hortatory  epistles  to  his  brethren  in  faith 
and  suffering,  especially  to  Cranmer,  Ridley,  and  Latimer,  then  in 
bonds  at  Oxford,  with  whom  he  was  particularly  anxious  to  come  to  a 
sound  and  unanimous  decision  upon  some  points  of  faith. 

3^Mt!^  Hatfmrr. 

^      BORN  A.  D.  1470. — DIED  A.  D.    1555. 

Hugh  Latimer  was  the  son  of  a  respectable  yeoman,  and  was 
bom  at  ThurcastOD,  in  Leicestershire,  in  the  year  1470.^  He  received 
his  early  education  in  a  country  school,  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen  was 
removed  to  Cambridge.  He  was  brought  up  a  zealous  Romanist,  but 
becoming  acquainted  with  Mr  Thomas  Bilney  at  Cambridge,  he  gra- 
dually changed  his  opinions,  and,  being  of  an  ardent  and  ingenuous  dis- 
position, he  became  a  zealous  promoter  of  the  protestant  doctrines.  He 
first  attracted  the  notice  of  the  papists  by  a  series  of  discourses,  in 
which  he  enforced  the  uncertainty  of  tradition,  the  vanity  of  works  of 
supererogation,  and  the  pride  and  pomp  of  the  Roman  hierarchy. 
These  discourses  were  attacked  by  Buckenham  with  great  warmth. 
Buckenham  was4)rior  of  the  Black  friars  at  Cambridge,  then  the  seat 
of  ignorance,  bigotry,  and  superstition.  Latimer  opposed  him  with 
great  zeal  and  acuteness,  and  greatly  advanced  the  protestant  interest 
at  Cambridge.  The  unaffected  piety  of  Mr  Bilney,  and  the  pungent 
and  cheerful  eloquence  of  honest  Latimer,  wrought  so  much  on  the 
junior  students,  and  so  greatly  increased  the  credit  of  the  protestants, 
that  the  popish  clergy  were  alarmed,  and,  according  to  their  usual 
practice,  called  aloud  for  the  secular  arm.  The  bishop  of  Ely  inter- 
dicted his  preaching  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  university ;  the  or- 
der was  defeated  by  Dr  Barnes,  prior  of  the  Augustines,  who  being 
friendly  to  the  Reformation,  boldly  licensed  Latimer  to  preach  in  his 
chapel,  which  was  exempt  flrom  episcopal  interference.  At  length  the 
progress  of  the  new  opinions  was  represented  to  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
who,  at  the  importunity  of  Archbishop  Warham,  created  a  court  of 
bishops  and  deacons  to  put  the  laws  in  execution  against  heretics. 
Before  this  court  Bilney  and  Latimer  were  summoned,  and  the  former, 
who  was  considered  the  principal,  being  induced  to  recant,  the  whole 
were  set  at  liberty ;  and  such  was  the  favour  extended  to  Latimer,  that 
he  was  licensed  by  the  bishop  of  London  to  preach  throughout 
England.  Bilney  was  filled  with  such  deep  remorse,  on  account  of  his 
recantation,  that  he  afterwards  disclaimed  his  abjuration,  and  sought 
the  stake,  which  so  excited  the  rage  of  his  enemies,  that  he  was  speed- 
ily doomed  to  martyrdom,  and  suffered  it  at  Norwich  in  1531.  His  suf* 
fering  did  not  shake  the  reformation  at  Cambridge,  but  rather  inspired 
the  leaders  thereof  with  fresh  courage.  Latimer  was  roused  to  more 
exertion,  and  filled  that  place  which  Bilney  had  occupied  in  this  im- 
portant work.  So  far  was  Latimer  from  being  intimidated  by  the  suf- 
ferings of  his  friend,  that  he  wrote  to  King  Henry  YIII.  against  a  pro- 
clamation then  just  published,  forbidding  the  use  of  the  Bible  in  Eng- 

1  Fox  Bays  1475. 


lish,  and  of  other  books  on  religious  subjects.  He  had  preached  be- 
fore his  majesty  once  or  twice  at  Windsor,  and  had  been  noticed  by 
him  in  a  more  affable  manner  than  that  monarch  usually  indulged  to« 
wards  his  subjects.  But  whatever  hopes  of  preferment  his  sorereign's 
fevour  might  have  raised,  he  chose  to  hazard  all  rather  than  to  omit 
what  he  thought  to  be  his  duty.  Although  this  epistle  did  not  pro- 
duce the  desired  effect,  Henry,  who  loved  openness,  took  it  in  good 
part,  and  presented  him  to  the  living  of  West  Kington,  in  Wiltshire. 
This  mark  of  royal  &vour  was  doubtless,  in  some  degree,  to  be  attri*  | 
buted  to  the  influence  of  Lord  Cromwell,  who  was  now  become  a  fa«  I 
vourite  with  Henry,  and  who  was  a  friend  to  the  Reformation.  ■ 

The  ascendancy  of  Anne  Boleyn  proved  still  more  &vourable  to  I 
Latimer,  who  went,  immediately  after  his  presentation,  to  reside  on  his 
benefice,  where  he  discharged  his  duty  in  a  very  zealous  and  conscien- 
tious manner,  though  much  persecuted  by  the  Romish  clergy.  At 
length  the  malice  of  his  enemies  obtained  an  archiepiscopal  citation  for 
his  appearance  in  London.  His  friends  advised  him  to  flee ;  but  their 
persuasions  were  in  vain.  He  set  out  for  London  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter, under  a  severe  fit  of  the  stone  and  eholic,  but  he  was  more  distress- 
ed at  the  thought  of  leaving  his  parish  exposed  to  the  popish  clei^, 
than  at  the  prospect  of  his  own  troubles.  On  his  arrival  in  London, 
he  found  a  court  of  bishops  ready  to  receive  him.  Instead  of  being 
examined^  as  he  expected,  about  his  sermons,  a  paper  was  put  into  his 
hand,  which  he  was  ordered  to  subscribe,  declarative  of  his  belief  in 
the  efficacy  of  masses  for  souls  in  purgatory,  of  prayers  to  dead  saints, 
of  pilgrimages  to  their  sepulchres  and  reliques,  the  pope's  power  to  for- 
give sins,  the  doctrine  of  merit,  the  seven  sacraments,  and  the  wor- 
ship of  images.  When  he  refused  to  sign,  the  archbishop,  with  a 
frown,  begged  he  would  consider  what  he  did.  The  next  day,  and  fre- 
quently afterwards,  this  scene  was  renewed  and  continued.  He  con- 
tinued inflexible,  and  they  continued  to  distress  him.  They  regularly 
sent  tor  him  three  times  on  every  week,  with  a  view  to  wear  out  his 
patience  and  tease  him  into  a  compliance.  Tired  with  this  usage,  at 
length  he  sent  a  remonstrance  to  the  bishop,  which  was  truly  character- 
istic of  the  faithfulness  and  boldness  of  his  character.  The  bishops 
continued  their  persecutions  until  their  schemes  were  frustrated  in  an 
unexpected  manner,  by  Latimer  being  raised  to  the  see  of  Worcester, 
in  1535,  by  the  favour  of  Queen  Anne  Boleyn,  to  whom  he  had  been 
recommended  by  Lord  Cromwell.  He  had  now  a  more  extensive  field 
to  promote  the  principles  of  the  Reformation,  in  which  he  laboured  with 
the  utmost  pains  and  assiduity.  All  the  historians  of  the  day  mention 
him  as  a  person  remarkably  zealous  in  the  discharge  of  his  official 
duties,  and  whose  fidelity  could  not  be  seduced  by  smiles  nor  terrified 
by  frowns.  One  remarkable  instance  of  his  courage  in  administering 
seasonable  reproof  is  much  to  his  honour.  It  was  customary  for  the 
bishops  to  make  presents  to  the  king  on  the  new-year's-day.  Latimer 
on  this  occasion  presented  his  majesty  with  a  New  Testament,  having 
the  leaf  turned  down  to  this  passage, — "  Whoremongers  and  adulterers 
God  will  judge."  King  Henry  was  not  offended ;  and,  on  an  occasion 
soon  after,  when  Latimer  was  brought  before  him  to  answer  for  some 
passages  in  a  sermon  he  had  preached  at  court,  his  honest  defence  so 
pleased  the  king  that  he  dismissed  him  with  a  smile. 

The  fall  of  Anne  Boleyn  was  followed  by  great  changes.  The 
aspect  of  spiritual  affairs  was  much  altered :  the  six  articles  were  carried 
in  parliament  Latimer  chose  to  resign  his  bishopric  rather  than  to 
hold  any  preferment  in  a  church  which  enforced  such  terms  of  com- 
munion, and  retired  into  the  country.  He  remained  in  this  seclusion 
until  obliged  to  visit  London  to  obtain  medical  advice,  in  consequence 
of  an  injury  he  had  sustained  from  the  falling  of  a  tree.  He  was  dis- 
covered by  the  crafty  and  bigoted  Gardiner,  and  imprisoned  during 
the  continuance  of  Henry's  reign.  The  death  of  Henry,  and  the  con- 
^uent  accession  of  the  lovely  Edward  VL  was  the  dawn  of  a  bright 
and  auspicious  day  for  the  reformed  cause.  Latimer  was  released 
from  confinement,  and  was  much  admired  and  followed  for  the  ardour 
and  evangelical  strain  of  his  preaching,  through  the  whole  of  this  short 
reign.  He  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  resume  his  episcopal  Unctions, 
although  much  solicited,  and  at  length,  when  it  was  found  that  his  re- 
solution was  fixed,  he  took  up  his  abode  with  Archbishop  Cranmer  at 
Lambeth.  Soon  after  Mary  ascended  the  throne,  this  eminent  confessor 
was  cited  to  appear  before  the  council.  He  might  have  made  his 
escape  had  he  been  so  disposed,  as  opportunity  was  afforded  him  to 
leave  the  country ;  he  did  not  consider  it  his  duty  to  fiy  from  tlie 
storm,  and  prepared  with  alacrity  to  obey  the  citation,  and  as  he  pas- 
sed through  Smithfield,  he  exclaimed,  *<  This  place  has  long  groaned 
for  me  I"  Archbishop  Cranmer  and  Bishop  Ridley  were  also  commit- 
ted to  the  Tower,  which  was  so  crowded  with  prisoners  that  the  three 
prelates  were  confined  in  the  same  room.  This  was  a  most  providen- 
tial  circumstance,  as  it  afforded  these  holy  men  an  opportunity  of  much 
conversation  on  the  subjects  in  dispute  between  the  reformers  and  the 
papists ;  and  the  three  fellow-prisoners  for  Christ's  sake  searched  the 
sacred  volume  together,  and  confirmed  each  other  in  the  truths  for 
which  they  were  so  soon  to  bear  a  martyr  s  testimony,  and,  by  their 
mutual  prayers,  strengthened  each  other's  faith  and  hope.  They  were 
soon  after  removed  from  the  Tower  to  Oxford,  and  confined  in  the 
common  prison,  and  underwent  every  kind  of  degradation,  preparatory 
to  a  mock  disputation,  in  which  Latimer  behaved  with  his  usual 
intrepidity  and  simplicity,  and  refused  to  deliver  any  thing  more 
than  a  free  confession  of  his  opinions.  His  mind  had  been  long  pre- 
pared for  the  worst  that  man  could  do  unto  him,  and  his  regard  for  the 
great  cause  which  he  had  espoused  rendered  him  a  cheerful  sacrifice. 
Many  months  intervened  between  the  sentence  passed  by  his  judge 
and  the  final  catastrophe,  during  which  time  the  three  prelates  remain- 
ed in  gaol,  chiefiy  because  the  statutes  under  which  they  had  been  tried 
had  been  formally  repealed.  In  the  next  year,  1555,  new  and  more 
sanguinary  laws  were  enacted  in  support  of  the  Romish  religion,  and  a 
commission  was  issued  by  Cardinal  Pole,  the  pope's  legate,  to  try  Lat- 
imer and  Ridley  for  heresy.  Much  pains  were  taken,  during  the 
second  trial,  to  induce  them  to  sign  articles  of  subscription :  this  they 
steadfastly  refused,  and  were  delivered  over  to  the  secular  arm»  and 
condemned  to  the  flames.  They  suffered  on  the  16th  October,  1555. 
At  the  place  of  execution,  having  thrown  off  the  old  gown  which  was 
wrapped  around*  him,  Latimer  appeared  in  a  shroud  prepared  for  the 
purpose,  and,  with  his  companion  in  tribulation,  was  fastened  to  the 
stake.    When  a  burning  faggot  was  placed  at  the  feet  of  Bishop  Ridley, 

yL-f/J/M  L..  'le,-m'/i/<  t,.&-^-j^  .■^_^-!i:'-'i-t:/ri',' 


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Period.]  BISHOP  RIDLEY.  167 

Latimer  exclaimed,  **  Be  of  good  comfort  Master  Ridley,  and  play  the 
man  ;  we  shall  this  day  light  such  a  candle,  by  God's  grace,  in  Eng- 
gland,  as,  I  trust,  shall  never  be  put  out  I"  Having  commended  his 
soul  into  the  hands  of  the  Redeemer,  he  endured  the  fire  with  a  holy 
serenity  and  fortitude  of  mind,  and  his  sufferings  were  speedily  termi* 
nated.  Thus,  being  offered  up  on  the  altar  of  the  gospel,  as  a  freewill 
offering,  his  soul  ascended  as  in  a  fiery  chariot,  while  the  body  was 
consumed  and  refined.  Such  a  character  as  Latimer  does  not  appear 
in  every  age.  The  natural  fortitude  and  courage  with  which  he  was 
endowed,  when  sanctified  and  elevated  by  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  ren- 
dered him  a  noble  champion  for  the  truth, — ^the  British  Luther.  His 
talents  as  a  preacher  were  peculiarly  ad^ted  to  the  day  in  which  he 
lived ;  pungent,  clear,  lively,  and  evangelical,  he  arretted  the  atten- 
tion, commanded  the  respect,  and  awed  the  conscience  of  his  hearers, 
and  at  all  times  appeared  to  aim  to  save  himself  and  them  that  heard 
him.  No  considerations  of  personal  vanity,  or  of  the  dignity  of  his 
auditory,  prevented  him  from  speaking  with  godly  simplicity,  or  fit)m 
commending  himself  to  every  man's  conscience,  in  the  sight  of  God. 
No  man  had  more  powerfully  felt  the  truth  both  to  convince  and  to 
relieve  the  conscience,  and  he  spake  from  the  heart,  without  being  in- 
fluenced by  the  fear  of  man.  No  monumental  pillar  points  to 
the  spot  where  his  mortal  remains  repose  in  quiet  slumber  till  the 
resurrection  morning,  but  a  memorial  more  durable  than  marble  re- 
cords his  worth  and  the  exploits  of  his  &ith ;  and  the  decisive  day  will 
prove  that  the  precious  dust,  which  was  consumed  on  his  funeral  pile, 
and  carried  up  in  clouds  of  sacred  perfume,  was  the  care  of  him  who 
had  said,  *<  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  my  sake  shall  find  it."  "  I  will 
raise  him  up  at  the  last  day.'*  A  collection  of  his  sermons,  printed  in 
1570,  and  since  frequently  republished,  remains  only  of  his  literary 

DIED  A.  D.  1555. 

Nicholas  Ridley  was  bom  in  the  early  part  of  the  16th  century, 
at  Willymondswick  in  Northumberland.  Having  passed  through  the 
grammar-school  at  Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  he  was  entered  of  Pembroke 
hall,  Cambridge,  about  the  year  1518.  On  finishing  his  ecclesiastical 
studies  here,  he  went  to  the  Sorbonne  at  Paris,  then  the  most  celebrated 
school  in  Europe,  and  afterwards  spent  some  time  at  Louvain.  On 
his  return  to  Cambridge,  he  was  chosen  senior  proctor  of  the  univer- 
sity ;  and  in  1534,  he  took  the  degree  of  bachelor  in  divinity,  and  was 
chosen  public  preacher.  The  reputation  which  he  acquired  in  the  lat- 
ter ofiice  procured  for  him  the  patronage  of  Cranmer,  who  appointed 
him  one  of  his  chaplains,  and  soon  afler  collated  him  to  the  vicarage 
of  Heme  in  Kent  In  the  latter  situation  he  bore  his  testimony  in  the 
pulpit  against  the  six  articles,  and  instructed  his  charge  in  the  pure 
doctrines  of  the  gospel  as  far  as  they  were  yet  discovered  to  him ;  but 
traui^ul^stantiation  continued  to  form  an  article  of  his  creed,  until  his 
faith  on  this  point  was  sliaken  by  the  various  writings  which  the  con- 

dneotal  divines  had  published  on  the  sacramental  controversy,  and 
finally  overturned  by  the  perusal  of  a  small  treatise  by  Ratramnus  or 
Bertram,  a  monk  of  Corbey,  written  at  the  request  of  Charles  the 
Bald,  about  the  year  840,  and  republished  at  Cologne  in  1532.  In 
the  close  of  the  year  1545,  Cranmer  presented  his  friend  with  a  stall 
in  St  Peter's,  Westminster ;  and  soon  after  the  accession  of  Edward 
VI.,  he  was  presented  by  his  majesty  to  the  living  of  Soham,  in  the 
diocese  of  Norwich. 

On  the  4th  of  September,  1547,  he  was  promoted  to  the  bishopric 
of  Rochester.  Next  year  he  appears  to  have  been  employed  in  com- 
piling the  book  of  common  prayer  in  conjunction  with  Cranmer.  On 
the  deprivation  of  Bonner,  Ridley  was  appointed  bishop  of  London. 
His  conduct  to  the  deprived  prelate  and  his  family,  on  this  occasion, 
was  exceedingly  urbane,  and  highly  honourable  to  his  integrity  and 
benevolence.  Soon  after  his  promotion  to  the  see  of  London,  we  find 
him  again  associated  with  Cranmer  in  promoting  the  doctrinal  reforma- 
tion  of  the  church,  by  preparing  the  book  of  articles  of  faith  which 
was  afterwards  published  by  royal  authority. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Mary,  Ridley  was  sent  to  the  Tower,  and 
after  eight  months'  imprisonment,  was  taken  to  Oxford,  where,  on  the 
1st  of  October,  1555,  he  was  condemned  for  heresy.  He  conducted 
himself  with  great  firmness  before  his  judges,  and  resisted  all  at- 
tempts to  extort  a  recantation  from  him.  He  suffered  death  on  the 
same  day  with  his  friend  Latimer,  and  met  his  fate,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, with  even  more  firmness  and  triumph  than  his  companion.  An- 
thony Wood  says  of  Bishop  Ridley,  that  he  was  "  a  person  of  small 
stature,  but  great  in  learning,  and  profound  in  divinity."  He  wrote 
several  treatises,  amongst  which  are,  *  A  treatise  concerning  Images 
not  to  be  set  up  nor  worshipped  in  Churches ;'  *  A  brief  declaration  of 
the  Lord's  Supper ;'  '  A  comparison  between  the  comfortable  doctrine 
of  the  Gospel,  and  the  Traditions  of  Popish  Religion ;'  '  Injunctions  to 
his  Diocese;'  and  '  A  Letter  of  Reconciliation  to  Bishop  Hooper.'  His 
life  has  been  written  by  his  relative,  Dr  Gloster  Ridley. 

BORxN  A.   D.   1495. — DIED  A.  D.    1555. 

JoHi?  Hooper,  a  prelate  of  the  church  of  England,  and  martyr  in 
the  cause'  of  protestantism,  was  born  in  Somersetshire,  in  or  about 
the  year  1495.  He  received  his  education  at  the  university  of  Oxford, 
where  it  is  believed  he  was  entered  of  Merton  college,  and  took  his 
first  degree  in  the  year  1518.  After  his  college  course  was  completed 
he  entered  into  a  society  of  White  friars,  called  Cistercians,  but  con- 
tinued only  a  few  years  connected  with  this  fraternity.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  an  insight  into  their  manners  and  principles  disgusted 
bim,  and  determined  his  secession  from  them.  He  now  returned  to  the 
university,  and  about  this  period  the  works  of  the  German  reformers 
were  beginning  to  be  privately  introduced  at  the  English  universities. 
These  he  procured  and  eagerly  read.  They  induced  a  thirst  for  the 
sacred  Scriptures,  and  by  the  perusal  of  both,  he  soon  became  in  heart 

Pmuod.]  bishop  hooper  169 

a  protestant  After  he  had  once  cordially  embraced  the  principles  of 
protestantism  he  found  it  necessary  to  confess  them,  and  this  of  course 
drew  npon  him  the  jealousy  of  the  popish  party.  When  the  statute  of 
the  six  articles,  as  it  was  called,  was  ordered  to  be  enforced  upon  the 
members  of  the  university,  he  soon  perceived  that  the  attempt  to  main- 
tain his  standing  was  hopeless,  and  that  it  would  be  the  wber  part  to 
(vithdraw  before  the  storm  overtook  him.  He  found  an  asylum  in  the 
house  of  Sir  Thomas  Arundel  as  his  steward  and  chaplain.  But  here 
he  was  not  long  safe  from  the  cruel  vigilance  of  his  enemies.  He, 
however,  again  foresaw  the  deadly  nature  of  the  storm  that  was  gath- 
ering, and  betook  himself  to  flight.  But  not  finding  the  reformers  of 
France  quite  to  his  mind,  after  a  short  time  he  returned  to  England, 
and  lived  with  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Saintlow.  Before  he  had 
been  long  in  this  retreat,  his  enemies  again  discovered  him,  and  were 
taking  steps  to  have  him  apprehended,  when  he  narrowly  escaped  their 
hands  again  by  assuming  the  character  of  a  sailor,  and  as  master  of  a 
small  vessel  bound  to  Ireland,  made  good  his  escape. 

From  Ireland  he  passed  over  to  France,  and  thence  into  Switzerland. 
There  he  met  with  a  joyful  welcome  from  the  principal  reformers,  among 
whom  were  Bulinger  and  Zuingle.  During  his  residence  in  Switzerland, 
he  applied  hunself  closely  to  the  study  of  the  Hebrew  language  and 
the  Scriptures.  Here  also  he  married  a  lady,  a  native  of  Burgundy. 
At  this  period  an  important  question  greatly  agitated  the  protestants  of 
Germany  and  Switzerland.  It  arose  out  of  the  enforcement  of  a  sys- 
tem called  the  Interim^  which  was  a  sort  of  modified  and  chastened 
popery  which  Charles  V.  was  determined  to  have  enforced  upon  the 
members  of  both  protestant  and  popish  communions.  Thb  measure 
made  extensive  inroads  upon  the  advancing  protestantism  of  the  con- 
tinent, as  many  found  it  an  excuse  for  complying,  and  thereby  avoiding 
the  terrors  of  persecution.  Melancthon  was  at  the  head  of  the  con- 
formists, and  he  was  followed  by  many  of  the  Lutherans.  At  Zurich, 
where  Hooper  dwelt,  this  sulject  was  taken  up  with  much  zeal.  The 
reformers  there  were  decidedly  opposed  to  the  Interim^  and  zealously 
protested  against  all  conformity  to  the  old  popish  rites.  In  these  sen- 
timents Hooper  fully  concurred.  Upon  the  death  of  Henry  VIII., 
Hooper  returned  into  England,  and  was  actively  employed  in  preach- 
ing and  explaining  the  Scriptures,  principally  in  London.  He  became 
exceedingly  popular,  and  was  engaged  in  preaching  every  day  in  the 
week.  The  churches  were  crowded  to  hear  him,  and  his  fame  soon 
introduced  him  to  court.  He  was  then  commissioned  to  preach  the 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation  through  Kent  and  Essex,  and  endeavour 
to  reconcile  the  people  to  the  reformed  church.  He  next  appeared  as 
the  accuser  of  the  persecuting  Bonner,  when  measures  were  taken  to 
deprive  him  of  his  bishopric,  but  who  subsequently  found  an  oppor- 
tunity of  taking  cruel  and  ample  revenge. 

Such  was  the  advancing  fame  and  influence  of  Hooper,  that,  in  1550, 
he  was  appointed  bishop  of  Gloucester.  But  he  refused  the  ofiice  on 
account  of  the  objections  which  he  had  to  the  form  of  the  oath  of  su- 
premacy, which  he  calls  foul  and  impious,  and  because  of  the  gar- 
ments which  he  denounced  as  popish.  The  oath  required  him  to  swear 
by  the  saints,  which  he  denominated  impious.  The  young  king  was  so 
convinced  of  the  justness  of  Hooper's  objection,  that  he  struck  out  the 

n.  Y 


woTiU  with  his  own  pen,  but  the  habits  were  not  to  be  so  easOy  laid 
aside.  The  king  and  council  were  willing  to  have  them  dispensed  with 
in  the  ordination  of  Hooper,  but  Ridley  and  Cranmer  were  stickles 
for  their  enforcement.  Ridley  was  deputed  to  confer  with  him,  and 
bring  him  to  a  compliance ;  but  failing  in  the  attempt,  the  archbishop 
next  undertook  the  task.  But  neither  could  Cranmer  succeed  with  thLi 
resolute  nonconformist.  The  wyifrotestatti  protestant  prelates  next  pro- 
ceeded to  try  the  argument  of  imprisonment,  and  Hooper  was  sent  to 
the  Fleet.  Having  remained  in  prison  several  months,  the  matter  was 
compromised,  and  he  was  consecrated.  He  consented  to  wear  the 
vestments  at  the  consecration,  when  he  preached  before  the  king,  and 
when  he  appeared  in  his  own  cathedral,  but  was  allowed  to  lay  them  aside 
on  all  other  occasions.^ 

After  the  consecration.  Hooper  was  appointed  to  preach  before  the 
king,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  made  bis  appearance  in  his  canoni- 
cal habits :  he  then  hastened  to  his  diocese,  where  he  set  himself  to  the 
discharge  of  its  duties  with  exemplary  and  primitive  zeal*  His  preach- 
ing attracted  vast  crowds  who  were  greatly  instructed  by  his  labours. 
In  this  branch  of  his  duty  he  was  incessant  and  unwearied.  He  usu- 
ally preached  twice,  and  often  three  times  a  day.  His4ife  was  in  all 
respects  a  pattern  of  his  instructions,  and  a  living  sermon  louder  and 
moire  impressive  than  his  discourses.  His  charity  was  liberal  and  gen- 
erous in  the  highest  degree,  and  greatly  recommended  the  Gospel 
which  he  taught.  On  the  deprivation  of  Heath,  bishop  of  Worcester, 
which  occurred  in  1552,  Hooper  was  presented  with  that  see  in  com* 
mendam  with  Gloucester.  This  enlargement  of  his  sphere  of  duty 
greatly  extended  his  usefulness,  and  induced  him  to  the  most  zealous 
and  laborious  exertions,  often  beyond  hla  strength.  The  period  of  his 
happy  labours  was,  however,  soon  cut  short  by  the  succession  of  Mary 
to  the  throne.  The  year  after  his  induction  to  Worcester,  the  queen 
sent  a  messenger  to  bring  him  up  to  London,  to  answer  the  charges 
which  were  laid  against  him  by  Heath  the  deprived  bishop,  and  by 
Bonner,  who  alleged  that  he  had  falsely  accused  him  in  the  late  reign. 
Upon  his  appearance  before  the  council,  he  was  first  charged  with  de« 
taining  from  the  queen  certain  sums  of  money  which  were  due  to  her. 
Upon  these  pretences  he  was  first  ordered  to  be  committed  to  the  Fleet. 
These  charges  were  however  speedily  abandoned,  and  the  more  serious 
one  of  heresy  substituted  in  their  place.  In  the  prison  he  was  kept 
eighteen  months,  being  constantly  harassed  by  the  most  wanton  cruelty, 
and  exposed  to  the  grossest  impositions.  During  this  imprisonment  he 
was  cited  frequently  before  the  council,  when  the  charge  of  heresy  was 
urged  against  him,  enforced  by  the  most  savage  threatenings  and  revil- 
ings.  He  was  called  upon  again  and  again  to  recant.  His  defection 
from  protestantism  was  looked  upon  as  a  most  desirable  and  import- 
ant object  on  account  of  the  extensive  influence  it  would  have  upon  the 

■  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  the  history  of  this  cruel  treatment  of  Hooper  by  his  brotliei 
protestants,  which  is  given  by  Fox  in  the  Latin  edition  of  the  Acts  and  Monuments,  if 
omitted  in  all  the  English  editions  \  it  is  as  follows :— '*  Thus  enrled  this  theological  quar- 
rel in  the  victory  of  the  bishops,  Hooper  being  lorced  to  recant;  or  (o  say  the  least,  be- 
ing constrained  to  appear  once  in  public,  attired  after  the  manner  of  the  other  bishops; 
which,  unless  he  had  done,  there  are  those  who  think  the  bishops  wnuld  have  endeavour- 
ed to  take  away  his  life;  for  his  servant  told  me,  the  duke  of  Suflolk  sent  sudi  word  to 
Hooper,  who  was  not  himself  ignorant  uf  what  they  were  doing." 

Pbbiod.]  bishop  hoofer.  171 

people,  but  he  continued  invincible.     Finding  that  he  adhered  most 
rigidly  and  courageously  to  his  principles^  they  condemned  him  to  be 
d^raded  from  his  episcopal  and  ecclesiastical  functions,  and  then  de* 
livered  over  to  the  secular  power  to  be  dealt  with  as  a  traitorous  and 
disobedient  subject  of  the  realm.     Under  this  sentence  he  was  removed 
from  the  Fleet  to  Newgate,  where  he  was  placed  more  directly  under 
the  influence  of  Bonner  and  his  chaplains.     Every  means  was  essayed 
which  hope  or  fear  could  supply,  or  which  threats  and  promises  could 
enforce.     Riches  and  honours  were  at  his  command  if  he  would  recant, 
but  tortures  and  ignominy  and  death  must  be  his  lot  if  he  persisted  in 
his  heresy.     But  still  finding  that  every  effort  was  powerless,  and  that 
his  conscience  was  neither  to  be  bribed  nor  scared,  they  resolved  at 
least  to  avail  themselves  and  their  cause  of  the  influence  of  his  name 
and  popularity.     They  pretended  that  he  had  recanted,  and  in  order  to 
destroy  the  cause  of  protestantism  and  counteract  the  influence  of  his 
name  and  example,  gave  the  utmost  publicity  to  this  foul  and  infamous 
slander.     But  it  was  soon  announced  to  Hooper,  that  such  a  report  was 
industriously  circulated,  and  he  accordingly  took  the   bold  step  of 
writing  to  his  friends,  to  assure  them  and  the  public,  that  he  was  un- 
altered in  his  principles,  and  indeed  more  than  ever  attached  to  the 
protestant  faith.     The  popish  bishops,  Gardiner  and  Bonner,  were  so 
stung  by  this  spirited  exposure  of  their  falsehood  and  artifice,  that  they 
instantly  determined  upon  visiting  him  with  the  ultimate  degree  of 
their  cruelty  and  wrath.     They  found  that  Hooper  was  never  to  be 
won  again  to  the  abjured  doctrines  of  Rome,  and  that  so  long  as  he 
survived,  there  would  exist  a  formidable  impediment  to  their  schemes 
both  of  secular  and  ecclesiastical  ambition.     Bonner  therefore,  whose 
promptitude  in  all  acts  of  cruelty  and  oppression  has  entitled  him  to 
an  execrable  pre-eminence  among  persecutors,  hearing  of  the  denial 
that  Hooper  had  sent  abroad,  of  any  such  recantation  as  the  bishops 
had  published,  went  immediately  to  Newgate,  and  there  went  through 
the  solemn  farce  of  degrading  and  depriving  him  of  his  orders  as  a 
priest,  for  already  he  had  been  discarded  as  a  bishop.     The  very  next 
day  he' was  ordered  to  be  sent  under  care  of  a  troop  of  horse  to  Glou- 
cester.    Here  he  was  to  be  brought  to  the  stake  under  circumstances 
which,  as  they  imagined,  would  most  deeply  afflict  him,  and  afford  the 
bitterest  anguish  to  his  numerous  and  attached  flock  in  the  city  and  its 
neighbourhood.     On  his  arrival  at  Gloucester,  the  whole  city  assembled 
to  show  him  respect  and  weep  over  his  fate.     Sir  Anthony  Kingston 
implored  him  to  save  himself,  and  consider  the  possible  usefulness  of 
Aiture  life — saying,  "  Life  is  sweet  and  death  is  bitter ;  therefore,  seeing 
life  may  be  had,  desire  to  live,  for  life  hereafter  may  do  good."     But 
the  good  bishop  replied,  *'  Indeed  I  am  come  here  to  end  this  life,  and 
to  sufler  death,  because  I  will  not  gainsay  the  former  truth  that  I  have 
taught  in  this  diocese  and  elsewhere.     I  do  not  so  much  regard  this 
death,  nor  esteem  this  life ;  but  have  settled  myself,  through  the  strength 
of  God's  holy  Spirit,  patiently  to  pass  through  the  torments  and  ex- 
tremities of  the  fire  now  prepared  for  me,  rather  than  deny  the  truth  o( 
his  word." 

The  next  day,  being  the  market  day,  he  was  brought  to  the  stake, 
amidst  a  vast  concourse  of  people.  The  execution  of  the  horrid  sen- 
tence was  attended  with  the  utmost  barbarity,  the  wood  being  quite 


green  and  long  before  it  would  bum.  While  he  was  engaged  in  prayer 
a  Atool  was  placed  before  him,  on  which  a  box  was  set,  with  the  queen*s 
pardon  within  it — if  he  would  recant  When  he  beheld  it  he  cried  out 
— **  If  you  love  my  soul,  away  with  it!  If  you  love  my  soul,  away  with 
it  I*'  After  the  fire  was  lighted  he  was  kept  in  the  utmost  tortures  for 
three  quarters  of  an  hour,  his  lower  extremities  being  burnt  away 
slovly  before  there  was  fire  enough  to  afiect  the  vitals.  At  length  he 
expiied,  crying  out,  **  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit  I"  His  martyrdom 
took  place  on  the  9th  of  February,  1555,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age. 
He  was  the  author  of  numerous  controversial  tracts,  sermons, 
homilies,  law  lectures,  confessions,  letters,  &c.  Several  of  his  smaller 
pieces  are  preserved  in  Fox*s  Acts,  &c.^ 

BORN  A.  D.  14S9. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1556. 

Thomas  Cranmer,  the  first  protestant  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  English  Reformation,  was  bom  of  an 
ancient  and  respectable  fitmily  of  Nottinghamshire,  at  Aslacton  in  that 
county,  on  the  2d  of  July,  1489.  He  received  the  rudiments  of 
education  at  the  grammar  school  of  his  native  village,  under  a  rude 
and  harsh  master,  **  of  whom  he  learned  little  and  endured  much."  At 
the  age  of  fourteen  he  was  entered  of  Jesus  college,  Cambridge,  where 
lie  continued  sixteen  years.  The  first  half  of  this  period  he  mispent 
upon  the  scholastic  logic  of  Duns  and  other  celebrated  questionists ; 
the  next  four  years  he  turned  to  more  profitable  account  in  the  study 
of  Faber,  Erasmus,  and  other  good  Latin  authors;  and  latterly  he 
gave  his  undivided  attention  to  the  study  of  the  scriptures.  It  does 
not  appear,  however,  that  he  was  originally  intended  for  the  church, 
for  he  is  said  to  have  excelled  in  the  more  profane  accomplishments  of 
a  gentleman  of  that  age,  such  as  hunting  and  hawking,  and  he  married 
before  he  took  orders.  His  wife  died  in  child-birth  within  a  year  after 
her  marriage, — a  circumstance  which  enabled  him  to  resume  the  fellow- 
ship which  he  had  forfeited  by  entering  into  wedlock.  From  this 
period  he  appears  to  have  directed  his  views  towards  the  church.  In 
1523,  he  took  the  degree  of  doctor  in  divinity,  and  soon  after  became 
reader  of  the  divinity  lectures  in  his  own  college,  and  one  of  the  exa- 
miners of  candidates  for  holy  ordei-s.  In  the  latter  capacity  he  made 
an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  scriptures  indispensable  to  all  candidates. 
The  enforcement  of  this  measure  was  not  without  difficulty.  School 
divinity  had  hitherto  been  the  sole  study  of  those  intended  for  the 
clerical  profession,  and  the  monastic  orders  in  particular  were  zealously 
opposed  to  any  innovations  upon  the  established  practice  in  this  respect; 
but  the  firmness  and  afiability  of  the  new  examiner  prevailed,  and  he 
soon  won  the  universal  esteem  of  all  whom  his  new  office  brought  him 
in  contact  w^ith. 

In  1529,  the  '  sweating  sickness'  having  broken  out  in  Cambridge, 
Cranmer  retired  to  the  abode  of  a  friend  at  Waltham  abbey  in  Essex* 

*  Middleton.-'Neal. — Burnett's  Reformation. — Wood's  Athen.  Oxoib 

AJ-i:ilHrtoii  X-  (""  ,!,■  lu.tiii  iLF.di7iln!i:-v>,ti 

I   \ 

//„/,„r„    ,A    .J'/,,/,^/,    //,„,„.„ 

Pkbiod.]  ABCHBISHOF  CBAl^MER  173 

It  happened  that  Heniy  VIII.  at  this  time  spent  a  night  at  Waltham* 
and  the  royal  suite  being  biUetted  in  the  different  houses  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood,  his  secretary  Gardiner,  and  bis  ahnoner  Fox,  were  allotted 
to  the  house  in  which  Cranmer  was  then  a  resident.  The  couTersation 
at  supper  soon  turned  upon  the  all-absorbing  object  of  public  interest, 
the  king's  divorce,  and  Cranmer  being  pressed  for  his  opinion,  expressed 
himself  in  favour  of  committing  it  as  a  question  of  conscience  and  re- 
ligion, in  which  the  truth  is  one,  to  the  discussion  and  decisi<Hi  of  com- 
petent divines.  This  opinion  was  soon  after  reported  to  the  king,  who 
was  so  much  pleased  with  it  that  he  exclaimed,  '<  The  man  has  got  the 
sow  by  the  right  ear  I"  and  immediately  sent  for  him  to  court.  In  his 
conference  with  |;he  king,  he  gave  so  much  satisfaction  that  he  was  im- 
mediately appointed  one  of  the  royal  chaplains,  and  placed  in  the 
family  of  the  earl  of  Wiltshire,  the  father  of  Anne  Boleyn.  The  king 
also  conunanded  him  to  write  a  treatise  upon  the  subject  of  the  divorce. 
From  this  moment  Cranmer  was  considered  as  a  '  rising  churchman,' 
and  some  discerning  spirits  already  perceived  in  him  the  probable  suc- 
cessor of  Wolsey,  now  in  the  first  stage  of  his  fall. 

Having  finished  his  treatise  on  the  divorce,  in  which  he  mainly 
ai^ed  against  the  pope's  power  of  granting  a  dispensation  for  the  mar- 
riage of  Henry  with  his  brother's  widow,  Cranmer  received  the  royal 
commands  to  take  the  opinion  of  the  learned  upon  the  question  agree- 
ably to  the  plan  which  he  had  himself  suggested.  He  began  with  his 
own  university,  where  he  at  first  met  with  but  indifferent  success, 
although  he  succeeded  in  changing  the  minds  of  a  few  leading  men, 
and  both  universities  afterwards  determined  against  the  dispensing  power 
of  the  pope.  He  met  with  better  success,  however,  in  his  consultations 
with  the  divines  of  France,  Italy,  and  Germany,  a  majority  of  whom 
decided  in  favour  of  the  king's  wishes.  He  was  then  deputed  with  the 
earl  of  Wiltshire,  to  the  papal  court,  to  submit  to  his  holiness  the 
opinions  of  the  learned,  and  to  obtain  the  papal  sanction  for  the  intended 
divorce.  On  his  arrival  in  Rome,  he  presented  hb  treatise  to  the  pope, 
and  offered  to  defend  in  public  its  two  principal  points,  namely,  that 
no  man,  jure  divino^  could  or  ought  to  marry  his  brother's  wife,  and 
that  the  bishop  of  Rome  had  no  power  to  dispense  to  the  contrary. 
The  pontiff  declined  to  sanction  a  public  disputation  on  either  of  these 
points,  but  promised  to  take  the  whole  matter  into  consideration,  and 
willing  to  please  Henry,  appointed  Cranmer  pope's  pcenitentiary  through- 
out England,  Wales,  and  Ireland.  From  Rome,  Cranmer  proceeded 
to  Germany,  where  he  spent  nearly  two  years  in  endeavouring  to 
convince  the  Lutheran  divines  of  the  nullity  of  the  king's  marriage. 
He  succeeded  in  gaining  over  the  famous  Osiander  to  his  sentiments 
with  several  members  also  of  the  emperor's  court  and  council.  Cran- 
mer's  intercourse  at  this  time  with  the  German  protestant  divines,  par- 
ticularly Osiander  and  Bucer,  tended  to  confirm  those  views  of  religion 
which  we  have  seen  he  had  begun  to  cherish  while  at  Cambridge,  and, 
though  yet  holding  the  status  of  a  catholic  clergyman,  he  was  privately 
married  to  a  niece  of  his  friend  Osiander. 

He  was  yet  in  Germany  when  he  received  notice  of  his  appointment 
to  the  metropolitan  see  of  England,  then  vacant  by  tiie  death  of  arch- 
bishop Warham.  He  at  first  seriously  hesitated  to  accept  of  this  high 
promotion.     The  marriage  had  placed  him  in  an  awkward  dilemma,  for 


Henry  to  the  day  of  his  death  was  a  stem  enforcer  of  the  celibacy  of  I 
the  elergy.  It  was  also  a  difficult  matter  for  him>  holding  the  senti- 
ments which  he  did,  to  swear  canonical  obedience  to  the  pontiff,  I 
Under  these  circumstances  he  adopted  a  line  of  conduct  which  Bishop  I 
Burnett  has  characterised  as  *' agreeing  better  with  the  maxims  of  I 
canonists  and  casuists,  than  with  Cranmer's  sincerity  and  integrity :" 
he  contented  himself  with  a  vague  and  private  protestation  to  the  effect 
that  he  did  not  intend,  by  hb  oath  to  the  pope,  *^  to  restrain  hinoself 
from  any  thing  to  which  he  was  bound  by  his  duty  to  God  or  the  king, 
or  from  taking  any  pait  in  any  reformation  of  the  English  oburch 
which  he  might  judge  to  be  required." 

The  first  act  of  the  new  archbishop  was  one  in  direct  opposition  to 
papal  authority,  namely,  the  pronouncing  sentence  of  divorce  betift'een 
Henry  and  Catharine.     It  is  impoissible  to  acquit  Crahmer  of  blame  in 
this  transaction,  for  although  he  was  only  one  of  several  joined  in  the 
same  commission  on  this  occasion,  yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  his 
influence  was  original  and  decisive  of  the  question.    'His  misconduct* 
however,  would  have  been  greatly  aggravated  in  this  matter  if  it  were 
true,  as  has  been  asserted,  that  he  had  previously  assisted  at  Henry's 
private  marriage  with  Anne,  but  this  has  never  been  proved,  and  was 
always  stoutly  denied  by  the  archbishop.     Within  three  short  years,  he 
was  commanded  by  his  inexorable  master  to  declare  that  this  last  mar- 
riage **  was,  and  always  had  been,  null  and  void."     A  letter  which  he 
addressed  to  Henry  on  the  arrest  of  Anne,  has  been  appealed  to  by  both 
his  friends  and  enemies  in  support  of  their  respective  views  of  his  cha- 
racter, a  &ct  which  of  itself  stamps  it  with  the  features  of  equivocation 
and  mental  timidity.     With  equal  weakness-^-to  characterise  it  by  no 
harsher  name-^id  the  archbishop  soon  after  dissolve  the  marriage  of 
Henry  to  Anne  of  Cleves. 

Cromwell's  plan  for  the  abolition  of  the  monasteries  and  priories  was 
warmly  supported  by  the  archbishop.  But  he  failed  in  his  attempt  to 
turn  a  portion  of  the  revenues  which  the  crown  derived  from  this  new 
source  into  such  channels  as  would  have  materially  tended  to  the  pro- 
motion of  learning  and  scriptural  knowledge  throughout  the  kingdom. 
His  design  was  to  erect  a  number  of  cathedrals,  in  each  of  which  there 
should  be  provision  made  for  readers  of  divinity,  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  and 
for  *^  a  great  number  of  the  students  to  be  both  exercised  in  the  daily 
worship  of  God,  and  trained  up  in  study  and  devotion,  whom  the 
bishop  might  transplant  out  of  this  nursery  into  all  parts  of  his  diocese." 
He  succeeded,  however,  in  a  still  more  important  object,---the  placing 
of  the  Bible  in  the  hands  of  the  laity  of  England. 

The  fall  of  Cromwell  was  for  many  reasons  peculiarly  distressing  to 
the  archbishop,  3'et  he  made  but  a  feeble  effort  to  save  his  life,  and 
voted  for  his  attainder.  The  ^unous  act  of  the  six  articles  was  still 
more  trying  to  his  foelings  and  conscience,  and  he  took  a  more  decided 
and  resolute  part  against  it  than  was  customary  with  him  in  political 
matters.  The  bishops  took  opposite  sides  of  the  question.  Cranmer 
urged  his  reasons  against  it  for  three  days  successively,  and  was  followed 
by  the  bishops  of  Ely,  Sarum,  Worcester,  Rochester,  and  St  Davids. 
York,  Durham,  Winchester,  and  Carlisle,  went  as  vigorously  the  other 
way.  The  catholics  maintained  that  Cranmer's  opposition  was  occa- 
sioned solely  by  the  drcumstance  of  hb  being  a  married  man ;  but  less 


Pbbiod.]  ABCHBISHOP  CRANMEB.  175 

partial  men,  oo  the  same  side,  gave  him  full  credit  for  the  sinoerity  of 
his  opinions,  and  for  the  powers  of  reasoning  which  he  exhibited  in 
their  defence.  Cranmer  had  never  publicly  avowed  his  marriage ;  his 
wife,  however,  lived  with  him  in  private,  and  had  bom  him  sevenil  chil- 
dren. It  cost  him  no  small  effort  to  abandon  their  society,  and  many 
and  urgent  were  the  remonstrances  which  he  addressed  even  to  the  royal 
ear  upon  this  point.  But  Henry  remained  rooted  in  his  purpose  of 
enforcing  clerical  celibacy,  and  Cranmer  was  obliged  to  despatch  hb 
wife  and  children  to  Germany.  A  strong  party  was  now  formed 
against  the  archbishop,  headed  by  Gardiner  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk ; 
some  of  his  enemies  even  ventured  to  affront  him  in  public ;  but  Henry 
continued  to  entertain  a  sincere  esteem  for  him,  and  when  on  death- 
bed would  have  no  ecclesiastic  admitted  to  his  presence  but  him. 

After  the  death  of  Henry,  Cranmer  and  the  two   Seymours,  men 
thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  protestantism,  became  the  chief 
councillors  and  confidants  of  the  young  king,  and  exerted  their  united 
influence  with  much  success  in  promoting  the  cause  of  the  Reformation. 
Cranmer's  first  step  was  to  petition  the  new  king  for  a  license  to  con- 
tinue in  the  exercise  of  his  archiepiscopal  functions,  thereby  setting  an 
example  to  the  other  prdates,  which  was  speedily  imitated,  of  obedience 
to  and  dependence  on  the  will  of  the  civil  power.     He  next  established 
a  royal  visitation  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing  the  regular  reading  of 
the  book  of  Homilies,  and  of  the  New  Testament,  in  Erasmus'  trans- 
lation, in  every  church  af^er  mass.     He  then  proceeded  to  lop  off  gra- 
dually the  most  unmeaning  of  those  ceremonies  which  were  retained  in 
the  church,  such  as  driving  out  the  devil  by  holy  water  and  consecrated 
candles,  bearing  candles  on  Candlemas  day,  and  carrying  palms  on 
Palm  Sunday.     The  use  of  images  was  not  prohibited,  but  their  wor- 
ship was  strictly  forbidden ;  and-  the  sacrament  of  the  Supper  was 
ordered  to  be  administered  in  both  kinds.     He  also  laid  the  ground- 
work for  doctrinal  refonnation  by  inviting  foreign  divines  and  professors 
into  England,  and  gave  them  all  encouragement  to  disseminate  the 
doctrines  of  the  reformed  faith.     Among  those  who  accepted  of  this 
invitation  were  John  Knox,  who  was  appointed  one  of  the  royal  chap- 
lains, Bucer,  who  was  appointed  to  lecture  on  divinity  at  Cambridge, 
and  Peter  Martyn,  who  was  placed  in  the  theological  chair  of  the  sister 
university.     The  publication  of  a  catechism  ^*  for  the  singular  profit 
and  instruction  of  children  and  young  people,*'  was  his  next  measure. 
A  more  important  work  was  the  book  of  Common  Prayer,  compiled 
chiefly  from  the  Homish  ritual,  and  very  similar  to  that  in  use  at  the 
present  hour.     Amid  these  changes,  some  of  the  prelates  adhered  to 
the  ancient  form  of  worship  with  much  firmness,  and  it  is  deeply  to  be 
regretted  that  the  imprisonment  and  deprivation  of  Bonner  and  Gar- 
diner, furnished  them  with  an  excuse  for  that  severe  retaliation  which 
their  return  to  power  enabled  them  to  make.    In  fact,  it  is  not  possible 
to  acquit  even  Cranmer  of  the  charge  of  intolerance.     If  compulsion 
might  have  been  pled  as  an  excuse  for  the  part  he  acted  in  some  of 
Henry's  acts  of  persecution — as  for  example  in  the  affair  of  Lambert-^ 
that  plea  at  least  could  no  longer  be  urged  in  palliation  of  his  conduct 
under  Henry's  youthful  and  mild-hearted  successor.     Yet  we  find  him 
employed  to  overcome  Edward's  reluctance  to  sign  the  death-warrant 


of  Joan  of  Kent ;  jmd  within  a  few  days  thereafter  consigning  Von 
Parris,  a  Dutchman,  to  the  flames  for  Arianism. 

The  archbishop's  admirers  have  also  found  it  a  difficult  task  to  apo- 
logise for  the  support  which  he  gave  to  Dudley  in  his  ill-judged  attempt 
to  change  the  succession  at  the  death  of  Edward.  '*  I  never  liked  it," 
he  indeed  says  in  his  letter  to  Mary»  "  nor  any  thing  grieved  me  as 
much  as  your  grace's  brother  did,  and  if  by  any  means  it  had  been  to 
have  hindered  the  making  of  that  will,  I  should  have  done  it."  But  it 
is  impossible  to  accept  of  his  excuse  that  he  only  yielded  ultimately 
to  Edward's  personal  entreaties.  The  head  of  the  English  prelacy 
should  have  had  sufficient  firmness  and  a  sufficient  sense  of  what 
was  his  duty  to  his  king  and  his  country,  to  have  resisted  the  entreaties 
of  a  boy-king  that  he  would  commit  an  action  in  itself  unjust,  illegal,  and 

King  Edward  was  buried  on  the  8th  of  August,  1553,  on  which  oc- 
casion Cranmer  officiated  according  to  the  protestant  rituaL  He  was 
next  day  ordered  to  confine  himself  to  his  palace  of  Lambeth.  Here 
he  was  joined  by  his  friend  Peter  Martyn,  who  had  fled  from  Oxford. 
Intelligence  having  been  brought  him  that  mass  had  been  performed  in 
Canterbury  cathedral,  and  with  his  alleged  consent  and  approbation, 
the  zeal  of  his  honest  and  uncompromising  friend,  Martyn,  incited  him 
to  make  a  public  denial  of  the  imputation.  This,  at  least,  was  a  de- 
cided and  bold  step,  and  accelerated,  if  it  did  not  occasion,  the  arch- 
bishop's committal  to  the  Tower.  It  was  soon  after  resolved  to  pro- 
ceed to  extremities  with  Cranmer,  and  the  other  leaders  of  the  Refor- 
mation. "  The  Tower  being  foil  of  prisoners,"  says  Middleton, 
<'  Archbishop  Cranmer,  Bishop  Ridley,  Latimer,  and  Bradford,  were 
all  put  into  one  chamber ;  for  which  they  blessed  God,  and  for  the  op- 
portunity of  conversing  together,  reading,  and  comparing  the  Scrip- 
tures, confirming  themselves  in  the  true  faith,  and  mutually  exhorting 
each  other  to  constancy  in  professing  it,  and  patience  in  sufiering  for  it. 
In  April,  1544,  the  archbishop,  with  Bishop  Ridley,  and  Bishop  Latimer, 
was  removed  from  the  Tower  to  Windsor,  and  from  thence  to  Oxford, 
to  dispute  with  some  select  persons  of  both  universities.  At  the  first 
appearance  of  the  archbishop  in  the  public  schools,  three  articles 
were  given  him  to  subscribe,  in  which  the  corporal  presence,  by  tran- 
substantiation,  was  asserted,  and  the  niass  affirmed  to  be  a  propitiatory 
sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  the  living  and  dead.  These,  he  declared  freely, 
he  considered  gross  untruths,  and  promised  to  give  an  answer  concern- 
ing them  in  writing.  Accordingly,  he  drew  it  up,  and  when  he  was 
brought  again  to  the  schools  to  dispute,  he  delivered  the  writing  to 
Dr  Weston  the  prolocutor.  At  eight  in  the  morning  the  disputation 
began,  and  held  till  two  in  the  aitemoon ;  all  which  time  die  arch- 
bishop constantly  maintained  the  truth  with  great  learning  and  courage, 
against  a  multitude  of  clamorous  and  insolent  opponents.  And  three 
days  after,  he  was  again  brought  forth  to  oppose  Dr  Harpsfield,  who  was 
to  respond  for  his  degree  in  divinity ;  and  here  he  acquitted  himself  so 
well,  clearly  showing  the  gross  absurdities  and  inextricable  difficulties 
of  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  that  Weston  himself  could  not  but 
dismiss  him  with  commendation."  Cranmer,  with  all  his  superior  light, 
had  remsuned  a  firm  and  sincere  believer  in  traDsubstantiation,  till  so 

Pishiod]  archbishop  CRANMER.  177 

Iste  as  the  year  1547.     Ridley  caught  the  important  truth  first>  and 
was  the  means  of  carrying  conviction  to  the  mind  of  the  archbishop. 

On  the  20th  of  April,  Cranmer  was  Jbrought  before  the  queen's  com- 
missioners,  and  asked  whether  he  would  subscribe  to  the  ancient  wor- 
ship. He  met  the  proposition  with  a  decided  refusal,  and  was  instantly 
condemned  as  an  obstinate  heretic  We  shall  state  the  subsequent 
proceedings  in  the  words  of  Middleton :— '*  In  1556,  a  new  commis- 
sion was  given  to  Bishop  Bonner  and  Bishop  Thirlby,  for  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  archbishop.  When  they  went  to  Oxford,  the  archbishop 
was  brought  before  them,  and  after  they  had  read  their  commission 
from  the  pope,  Bonner,  in  a  scurrilous  oration,  insulted  over  him  after 
a  most  unchristian  manner ;  for  which  he  was  after  rebuked  by  Bishop 
Thirlby,  who  had  been  Cranmer's  particular  friend,  and  shed  many 
tears  upon  the  occasion.  When  Bonner  had  finished  his  invective 
against  him,  they  proceeded  to  degrade  him ;  and  that  they  might 
make  him  as  ridiculous  as  they  could,  the  episcopal  habit  which  they 
put  on  him  was  made  of  canvass  and  old  clouts.  Then  the  archbishop, 
pulling  out  of  his  sleeve  a  written  appeal,  delivered  it  to  them,  saying, 
that  he  was  not  sorry  to  be  cut  off,  even  with  all  this  pageantry,  from 
any  relation  to  the  church  of  Rome,— that  the  pope  had  no  authority 
over  him,  and  that  he  appealed  to  the  next  general  council.  When 
they  had  degraded  him,  they  put  on  him  an  old  threadbare  beadle's 
gown,  and  a  townsman's  cap,  and  in  that  garb  delivered  him  over  to 
the  secular  power." 

Thus  &r  Cranmer  had  nobly  sustained  the  fiery  trial  of  persecution, 
but  his  fortitude  at  last  gave  way,  and  in  a  fit  of  despondency  he  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  have  a  conference  with  the  legate.  Again  the  firm- 
ness of  the  martyr  returned,  and,  besides  expressing  regret  for  the 
weakness  which  he  had  exhibited,  he  wrote  a  long  letter  to  the  queen 
in  defence  of  the  Protestant  doctrines.  Gardiner,  who  knew  the  man 
he  had  to  deal  with,  informed  him  that  he  must  prepare  for  speed;y 
execution,  but,  at  the  same  time,  Glinted  that  it  was  not  yet  too  late  to 
excite  the  queen's  clemency  by  a  distinct  and  formal  recantation  of  his 
most  obnoxious  heresies.  The  temptation  succeeded,  and  six  separate 
iBstruments  of  the  most  abject  recantation  were  severally  signed  by. 
him,  in  the  vain  hope  of  obtaining  mercy.  Burnet  says,  for  six  weeks 
he  openly  condemned  the  "  errors  of  Luther  and  Zuinglius,  acknow* 
ledged  the  pope's  supremacy,  the  seven  sacraments,  the  corporal  pre- 
sence in  the  eucharist,  purgatory,  prayer  for  departed  souls,  the  invo- 
cation of  saints,  to  which  was  added  his  being  sorry  for  his  former 
errors  ;  and  concluded,  exhorting  all  that  had  been  deceived  by  his  ex- 
ample or  doctrines  to  return  to  the  unity  of  the  church  ;  and  protest- 
ing that  he  had  signed  his  recantation  wUlingly,  only  for  the  discharge 
of  his  conscience."  But  his  doom  was  sealed.  'The  queen  was  fully 
resolved  that,  catholic  or  protestant,  he  should  burn ;  and  the  21st  of 
March  was  the  day  fixed  for  his  execution.  To  the  last  moment  he 
clung  to  the  hope  of  pardon ;  nor  was  it  until  he  was  actually  led  forth  to 
execution,  that  hope  finally  forsook  him.  A  Dr  Cole  was  appointed  to 
preach  a  sermon  in  the  church  of  St  Mary  on  the  occasion,  and  the  arch- 
bishop was  placed  opposite  to  him  on  a  low  platform.  When  Cole  had 
finished  his  harangue,  the  purport  of  which  was  to  proclaim  the  return 
of  the  arch-heretic  to  the  bosom  of  the  mother-church,  but  also  to  show 

II.  z 


that  it  was  expedient  Cranmer  should  suffer^  notwithstanding  his  recan- 
tation^  the  archbishop  was  called  upon  to  declare  his  faith;  where- 
upon, to  the  astonishment  of  all,  he  solemnly  retracted  all  his  recanta- 
tions, and  ended  by  denounaing  the  pope  as  Christ's  enemy  and  anti- 
christ. "  Upon  which,"  says  Middleton,  "  they  puUed  him  off  the  stage 
with  the  utmost  fury,  and  hurried  him  to  the  place  of  his  martyrdom, 
over  against  Baliol  college :  where  he  put  off  his  clothes  with  haste, 
and,  standing  in  his  shirt  and  without  his  shoes,  was  fastened  with  a 
chain  to  the  stake.  Some  pressing  him  to  agree  to  his  former  recanta- 
tion, he  answered,  showing  his  hand,  *  This  is  the  hand  that  wrote, 
and  therefore  it  shall  first  suffer  punishment.'  Fire  being  applied  to 
him,  he  stretched  out  his  right  hand  into  the  flame,  and  held  it  there 
unmoved,  except  that  once  he  wiped  his  face  with  it,  till  it  was  consum- 
ed, crying  with  a  loud  voice,  '  This  hand  hath  offended!*  and  often  re- 
peating, '  This  unworthy  right  hand  I'  At  last,  the  fire  getting  np,  he 
soon  expired,  never  stirring  or  crying  out  all  the  while,  only  keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  to  heaven,  and  repeating  more  than  once,  '  Lord  Jesus,  re- 
ceive my  spirit  I '  he  died  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his  age." 

The  character  of  Cranmer  has  been  the  subject  of  keen  controversy. 
Mr  Hallam  says,  "if  we  weigh  the  character  of  this  prelate  in  an 
equal  balance,  he  will  appear  far,  indeed,  removed  from  the  turpitude 
imputed  to  him  by  his  enemies,  yet  not  entitled  to  any  extraordinary 
veneration."  Others  have  not  hesitated  to  enrol  him  in  the  very  high- 
est rank  of  English  patriots  and  Christian  martyrs.  The  truth,  as 
usual  in  such  cases,  may  perhaps  lie  between  these  extremes.  Cran- 
mer was  a  conscientious,  but  feeble,  character ;  he  saw  and  loved  the 
truth,  but  wanted  firmness  to  pursue  it  amidst  the  difiiculties  which  the 
complexion  of  the  times  threw  in  his  way.  His  cruel  death  has  alone  pre- 
served his  memory  from  reproach.  Had  Mary  spared  his  life,  he  would 
never,  it  is  most  probable,  harve  retracted  the  steps  by  which  he  for- 
sook the  profession  of  the  reformed  faith,  until  the  re-ascendency  of 
protestant  principles,  under  her  successor,  had  rendered  it  impossible 
for  any  one,  situated  as  he  was,  to  resume  his  profession  of  attachment 
to  the  reformed  doctrines,  without  incurring  universal  suspicion  and  the 
contempt  of  posted^.  His  life  has  been  written  with  much  elegance 
by  Gilpin,  and  voluminously  by  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Todd. 

BORN  A.  D.  1483. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1555. 

Stephen  Gardiner  was  the  natural  son  of  Lionel  Woodville, 
bishop  of  Salisbury,  brother  to  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Woodville,  who, 
Tihile  the  widow  of  Sir  John  Grey,  captivated  the  affections  of  Edward 
IV.  and  became  his  queen.  Gardiner  was  bom  in  1483,  at  St  Ed- 
mund's Bury,  Suffolk.  He  received  his  education  at  Trinity  hall, 
Cambridge,  where  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  progress  in  the 
study  of  the  canon  and  civil  law,  the  classics,  and  Uieology.  In  1520, 
he  succeeded  to  the  headship  of  the  society  to  which  he  belonged,  but 
soon  after  left  the  university  and  attached  himself  to  the  Howard  fam- 
ily.    When  a  favourable  opportunity  offered  of  ingratiating  himself 


Period.]  BISHOP  GARDIKER.  179 

with  Wolsey,  who  was  fast  rising  into  power,  he  left  the  Howards,  and 
obtained  the  patronage  of  the  favourite.     In  the  service  of  this  prelate 
he  obtained   his  high  opinion  and  confidence,  by  his  activity  as  an 
agent,  and  his  ability  as  a  secretary.     The  patronage  of  his  master  in- 
troduced him  to  the  favour  of  the  court     In  1527,  his  talents  and  ad- 
dress had  made  such  an  impression  on  Wolsey  and  those  in  power, 
that  he  was  intrusted  with  the  negotiation  then  going  on  at  the  papal 
court,  respecting  the  king's  divorce  from  Catharine  of  Arragon.     Al- 
though he  was  unsuccessful  in  his  mission,  his  exertions  were  not  the 
less  appreciated,  and  he  was  rewarded  with  the  archdeaconries  of  Nor- 
wich and  Leicester  in  succession,  and  the  appointment  of  secretary  of 
state.     His  devotion  to  the  king  now  got  the  better  of  his  allegiance, 
as  churchman,  to  the  pope,  and  he  not  only  did  every  thing  in  hb 
power  to  facilitate  Henry's  designs  with  respect  to  the  queen,  but,  on  the 
king's  ^bjuring  the  supremacy  of  the  pope,  and  declaring  himself  supreme 
head  oHie  church,  he  warmly  supported  nim,  and  was  created  bishop 
of  Winchester.    The  first  proof  of  his  acquiescence  in,  and  approbation 
of,  this  measure  was  a  treatise  written  by  him  in  its  defence,  entitled, 
'  De  vera  obedientia.'     The  bishop  continued  to  enjoy  the  full  sun- 
shine of  court  favour,  till  the  capricious  sovereign,  taking  a  disgust  at 
Queen  Catherine  Parr,  consulted  with  him  on  the  easiest  method  of 
getting  rid  of  her,  and  acquiesced  in  a  plan,  the  leadmg  feature  of 
which  was  the  exhibition  of  articles  against  her  on  a  charge  of  heresy* 
The  charge  had  proceeded  so  far  that  officers  were  already  summoned 
for  the  purpose  of  arresting  her,  when  the  queen,  in  a  personal  inter- 
view  with  her  husband,  had  sufficient  address  to  turn  the  tables  on  the 
bishop,  to  re-establish  herself  in  the  king's  favour,  and  to  plunge  the 
bishop,  whom  she  suspected  of  being  her  principal  adversary,  into  a 
state  of  disgrace  from  which  he  never  extricated  himself  during  the 
reign  of  Henry.     On  the  accession  of  Edward  VI.  Bishop  Gardiner 
was  placed  in  more  unfavourable  circumstances  still.     He  had  been 
so  strenuous  an  opposer  of  the  doctrines  of  the  reformed  church,  and 
of  their  establishment  as  the  national  religion,  that  the  prevailing  party 
viewed  him  with  great  suspicion,  and  visited  him  with  marks  of  their 
high   displeasure.      He  was,  at  their  instigation,  committed   to  the 
Tower  by  the  young  king,  and  deprived  of  his  diocese.     Mary's  ac- 
cession again  changed  the   scene,  and  brought  Gardiner  once  more 
forth  into  liberty  and  power.     He  was  received  into  royal  favour,  re- 
stored to  his  see,  and  even  elevated  to  the  office  of  chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, and  first  minister  of  state.     He  had  learned  but  little  in  the 
school  of  adversity,  and  the  persecution  he  had  undergone,  on  account 
of  his  religious  tenets,  had  not  taught  him  to  respect  the  conscience 
of  another.      On  the  other  hand,  his  own  sufferings  appear  to  have 
hardened  his   heart,   and   produced  a  bitter  spirit  of  bigotry  and 
cruelty.      He    soon    distinguished   himself  as    the  principal    instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  the  infatuated  queen ;   and,  during  this  reign, 
took  the  lead  in  all  the  murderous  executions  which  stigmatized  it» 
often  acting  with  such  a  compound  of  caprice  and  cruelty  as  excites 
the  utmost  abhorrence  and  contempt.     The  history  of  the  martyrs  pre- 
sents Gardiner  in  a  most  disgusting  point  of  view,  as  discovering  fiend- 
like craft  and  cruelty.     In  his  private  character,  he  appears  to  better 
advantage,  as  be  was  learned  himself,  and  a  great  encourager  of  learn* 

ing  in  others.  The  brightest  trait  in  his  character  was  gratitnde, 
which  he  possessed  in  an  unusual  degree ;  this  he  manifested  towards 
Wolsoy,  to  whom  he  was  as  much  deroted  in  his  decline  as  in  the 
zenith  of  his  prosperity ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  coolness  and  injus- 
tice he  experienced  fronl  King  Henry,  towards  the  close  <^  that 
prince's  reign,  he  never  was  known  to  speak  of  him,  but  in  terms  of 
affectionate  respect.  He  was  often  heard  to  exclaim,  in  the  latter  part 
of  his  life,  *  Erravi  cum  Petro  sed  non  flevi  cum  Petro  I '  He  died 
November  12th,  1555.  A  treatise  by  him,  entitled,  *  Necessary  Doc- 
trine of  a  Christian  Man,'  printed  in  1543,  is  said  to  be  a  joint  work  by 
him  and  Cranmer* 

3Sf»]^09  Cunstall. 


BOBif  cna  A.  D.  1474^ — ^dkd  a.  n.  1559. 


This  prelate,  who  acts  a  distinguished  part  in  the  annab  of  tiie 
English  hierarchy,  is  generally  supposed  to  have  been  the  iU^timate 
son  of  Sir  Richurd  Tnnstail  of  Thurland  castle  in  Lancashire*  Sur- 
tees,  in  his  '  History  of  Durham,'  seems  inclined  to  tiiink  that  he  was 
the  son  of  Thomas  Tunstall,  the  brother  and  heir  of  Sir  Richard,  and 
consequendy  the  brother  of  Sir  Brian  Tunstall  who  fell  at  Floddon. 
Rumour  affixes  a  stigma  to  his  birth;  he  is  said  to  have  been  the 
offspring  of  an  illegitimate  amour  with  a  lady  of  the  Conyers  &miiy.' 
He  was  admitted  a  student  of  Baliol  college  in  1491,  but  soon  after- 
wards proceeded  to  Padua  where  he  took  the  degree  of  doctor  <^  laws. 
Godwin  represents  him  as  having  attained  high  reputation  as  a  scholar 
whilst  studying  abroad.  On  his  return  to  Ms  native  country  in  1508, 
he  was  presented  to  the  rectory  of  Stanhope  in  the  county  of  Durham ; 
and  in  1514,  Archbishop  Warham  constituted  him  vioar-general  or 
chancellor  of  the  see  of  Canterbury,  and  recommended  him  to  the  notice 
of  his  sovereign,  Henry  VIII.  Preferments  now  flowed  rapidly  upon 
him;  and  in  1516,  he  was  appointed  master  of  the  rolls, — an  office 
then  chiefly  supplied  by  churchmen,  and  for  which  he  was  eminently 
qualified  by  his  early  legal  studies.  In  the  same  year  he  was  joined 
with  Sir  Thomas  More  in  an  embassy  to  Charles  V.  then  at  Brussels. 
He  there  lodged  under  the  same  roof  with  the  celebrated  Erasmus, 
whose  friendship  he  afterwards  enjoyed  throughout  life.  That  most 
distinguished  scholar  has  borne  decided  testimony  to  Tunstalls  learning 
and  varied  acquirements,  describing  him  as  a  man  who  excelled  all  his 
contemporaries  in  a  critical  acquaintance  with  the  learned  languages, 
and  who  to  extensive  scholarship  united  the  more  solid  qualiflcations  oi 
an  acute  perception  and  sound  judgment.  It  would  appear  that  he 
acquitted  himself  in  his  embassy  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  royal  master, 
as  immediately  on  his  return  to  London,  he  was  again  despatched  with 
a  similar  commission  to  the  diet  of  the  empire  at  Worms.  These 
services  were  rewarded  with  a  succession  of  clerical  appointments.  In 
1522,  he  was  promoted  to  the  bishopric  of  London ;  and  in  1523, 
inade  keeper  of  the  privy  seal. 

This  has  been  called  in  question  with  considerable  success.     See  Hutchinfon's  Duiw 
bam,  Tol.  i.  p,  41?. 

i^  *■    m.^^ 

Pjbriod.]  bishop  TUNSTAIX.  181 

In  1525,  Bishop  Tunstall  accompanied  Sir  Richard  Wingfieki  iato 
Spain  to  solicit  the  release  of  Francis,  afterwards  king  of  France,  who 
had  been  taken  prisoner  in  the  batcle  of  Pavia ;  and  in  1527,  we  find 
him  attending  Cardinal  Wolsey  in  his  pompous  embassy  to  France* 
The  richer  see  of  Durham  rewarded  these  fresh  services  in  1529. 
The  associate  of  Wolsey  could  hardly  be  expected  to  look  with  a 
&voarable  eye  upon  the  early  efforts  of  the  reformers ;  accordingly  we 
find  him  adopting  measures  for  the  suppression  of  Tyndale's  edition  of 
the  New  Testament,  and  for  preyenting  the  dissemination  of  the  new 
doctrines ;  yet  it  is  but  fair  to  add,  that  in  all  these  measures  Tunstall 
exhibited  a  spirit  very  different  from  that  which  actuated  many  of  his 
contemporaries.  He  was  willing  to  burn  Tyndale's  books,  but  he  was 
always  an  advocate  for  the  milder  methods  of  reclaiming  heretics  them- 
selves ;  and  it  b  recorded  to  the  praise  of  his  humanity,  that  during  the 
heat  of  |:he  Marian  persecution  not  a  single  victim  suffered  in  the  diocese 
of  Durham. 

Tanstall's  character  lies  exposed  to  the  chaise  of  weakness  and  irre- 
solution. When  Henry  VIIL,  in  defiance  of  the  pope's  authority, 
assumed  the  title  of  supreme  head  of  the  English  church,  Tunstall  at 
^first  remonstrated,  then  hesitated,  and  finally  publicly  defended  the 
king's  right  to  the  supremacy  from  the  pulpit.  la  1537,  Tunstall  was 
appointed  by  the  king  to  confer  with  the  divines  sent  Prom  the  protest 
tant  princes  of  Germany  to  press  a  further  reformation ;  and  in  1541, 
he  appears  in  conjunction  with  Heath,  bishc^  of  Rochester,  as  the 
editor  of  a  revised  version  of  the  Scriptures.  The  confidence  which 
his  royal  master  reposed  in  him  did  not,  however,  save  the  see  of  Dur- 
ham from  the  operations  of  Henry's  sweeping  measures  of  ecclesiastical 
reform.  By  the  act  27°  Henry  VIIL,  the  ancient  honours  and  pecu- 
liar privileges  which  former  monarchs,  daring  a  period  of  six  centuries, 
had  successively  conferred  oti  that  see,  were  swept  away  at  a  blow ; 
but  the  bishop  wisely  bowed  to  the  storm,  and  continued  in  favour  at 

On  the  accession  of  Edward  VI.  Tunstall  opposed,  but  with  becoming 
moderation,  the  measures  of  the  protectant  party,  and  was  allowed  to 
remain  in  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  his  see.  But  in  1551  he  was 
suddenly  committed  to  the  Tower  on  a  charge  of  misprision  of  treason. 
Burnet  attributes  this  measure  to  the  cupidity  of  the  profligate  Dudley, 
duke  of  Northumberland,  who  wished  to  obtain  the  temporalities  of  the 
bbh<^*s  rich  see  and  be  made  count-palatine  of  Durham.  The  attain- 
der passed  against  him  in  the  house  of  lords,  although  Cranmer  spoke 
warmly  and  freely  in  his  defence ;  but  the  commons,  dissatisfied  with 
the  evidence  adduced,  threw  out  the  bill.  The  duke  had  then  recourse 
to  a  commission  directed  to  the  chief  justice  of  the  king's  bench,  and 
six  others.  This  scheme  succeeded  better  than  the  plan  of  attainder. 
The  commissioners,  who  were  all  creatures  a?  the  duke,  pronounced  the 
bishop  guilty  of  misprision  of  treason,  and  passed  sentence  of  depriva-' 
tion  against  him  on  the  14th  of  August,  1552.  Tunstall  was  imnie* 
diately  committed  to  the  Tower ;  and  in  the  month  of  May  following, 
Northumberland  obtained  letters  patent  appointing  him  steward  of  the 
revenues  of  Durham. 

The  accession  of  Mary  changed  the  complexion  of  the  bishop's  for- 
tunes, and  restored  him  to  his  bishopric.     But,  though  joined  with 


Boaner  and  Gardiner  in  the  commission  for  the  deprivation  of  the 
married  bishops,  he  was  of  much  too  mild  a  temper  to  go  heartily  along 
with  these  bloody-minded  bigots  in  their  work  of  intolerance.  In 
fact  he  appears  to  have  confined  himself  within  his  diocese  during  the 
whole  of  that  bloody  reign ;  and  to  have  put  forth  his  powers  chiefly 
for  the  purpose  of  screening  the  victims  of  persecution.  Fox  tells  us, 
that  when  one  Russell,  a  preacher,  was  brought  before  Tunstall  on  a 
charge  of  heresy,  and  his  chancellor  would  have  examined  him  more 
particularly,  the  bishop  prevented  him,  remarking :  *'  hitherto  we  have 
had  a  good  report  among  our  neighbours ;  I  pray  you,  bring  not  this 
man's  blood  upon  my  head."  It  is  also  a  proof  of  TunstaH's  easy  dispo- 
sition at  least,  that  when  his  nephew,  the  celebrated  Bernard  Gilpin,  an 
avowed  protestant,  came  home  from  his  travels  on  the  continent,  he  not 
only  received  the  young  man  with  great  tendernessi  but  even  bestowed 
on  him  the  archdeaconry  of  Durham.  One  might  feel  disposed  to 
attribute  such  leniency  to  an  entire  indifference  to  religion  on  the  part 
of  Tunstall ;  but  Gilpin,  whose  testimony  will  not  be  called  in  question, 
believed  his  uncle  to  be  a  conscientious  man,  and  has  recorded  some 
pleasing  instances  of  the  dominion  which  religious  feelings  possessed 
over  his  whole  character.*  It  is  also  matter  of  history  that  Elizabeth 
on  her  accession,  had  nominated  him  first  in  a  list  of  prelates  to  officiate 
at  the  consecration  of  several  new  bishops ;  but  he  refused  to  take  the 
oath  of  supremacy  to  a  protestant  princess,  and  quietly  submitted  to 
the  sentence  of  deprivation  which  followed.  The  remainder  of  his  days 
were  spent  under  the  roof  of  Archbishop  Parker.  He  died  on  the  18th 
of  November,  1559,  aged  85,  and  was  buried  in  the  chancel  of  Lambeth 

BORN  A.  D.  1495. — DIED  A.  D.  1563. 

John  Bale  was  bom  at  Cove,  near  Dunwich,  in  Suffolk,  Novem- 
ber 21,  1495.  He  received  his  early  instructions  at  the  monastery  of 
the  Carmelites,  in  Norwich,  and  from  thence  was  sent  to  Jesus  college, 
Cambridge.  He  was  educated  in  the  bosom  of  the  Romish  church, 
and  initiated  into  all  its  superstitions,  and  we  are  informed  was  a 
zealous  papist  before  the  light  of  protestantism  broke  in  upon  his  mind. 
The  exact  period  at  which  he  received  that  light  by  which  he  was  led 
to  detect  the  errors  of  popery,  and  to  relinquish  the  communion  of  that 
church,  does  not  clearly  appear,  but  he  attributes  to  **  the  illustrious, 
the  Lord  Wentworth,  that  he  was  stirred  up  to  discover  the  glory  ol 
the  Son  of  God,  and  his  own  deformity."  Soon  after  his  renunciation 
of  the  tenets  of  the  Romish  church,  he  married  a  pious  lady,  who  was 
a  great  assistance  to  him  in  his  religious  career.  He  manifested  great 
decision  of  character,  and  became  a  zealous  preacher  of  that  gospel 
which  he  had  felt  to  be  the  power  of  God  to  his  own  salvation.  No 
sooner  did  he  discover  the  errors  of  popery  and  the  vices  of  the 
clergy,  than  he  exposed  them  with  great  freedom  and  boldness.     The 

*  See  Gilpin't  Life  of  Gilpin. 

Pkbiod.]  JOHN  BALE.  183 

resentment  of  the  priesthood  was  roused  to  a  high  degree,  because  on 
one  occasion,  at  Doncaster,  he  openly  declared  against  the  invocation 
of  saints.  For  this  offence  he  was  dragged  firom  the  pulpit  to  the  con- 
sistory of  York,  to  appear  before  Archbishop  Lee,  when  he  was  cast 
into  prison.  Stokesly,  bishop  of  London,  subsequently  treated  him  with 
equal  severity,  and  doubtless  would  have  proceeded  to  extremities  but 
for  the  seasonable  and  powerful  interference  of  Lord  Cromwell,  who 
was  at  that  time  a  favourite  with  King  Henry  VIII.  After  the  decease 
of  this  eminent  nobleman,  he  withdrew  from  the  storm  of  persecution 
which  threatened  the  land,  and  retired  into  Germany.  There  he 
found,  in  the  society  of  Martin  Luther,  and  his  distingubhed  coadju- 
tors, a  hospitable  and  safe  retreat  for  about  eight  years,  and  pursued 
his  studies  with  avidity,  and  employed  his  pen  in  writing  against  the 
superstitions  of  popery,  and  defending  the  principles  of  the  reforma- 

After  the  death  of  King  Henry,  when  the  pious  Edward  VI.  had 
ascended  the  British  throne,  Bale  was  invited  home,  and  presented 
to  the  benefice  of  Bishopstoke,  in  Hampshire.  Here  he  lived  in  re- 
tirement, and  was  deeply  engaged  in  various  publications  which  the 
peculiar  state  of  the  times  called  for.  So  entirely  was  he  secluded 
from  the  busy  world,  that  when  he  waited  on  his  majesty  at  Southamp- 
ton, the  king  was  greatly  surprised  and  delighted  to  see  him,  having 
heard  that  he  was  dead.  He  then  appointed  him  to  the  see  of  Ossory, 
in  Ireland,  which  was  then  vacant.  Bale,  at  first,  declined  the  proffer- 
ed elevation,  and  pleaded  his  age,  ill  health,  and  poverty ;  but  the 
king  not  admitting  his  excuses,  he  at  length  consented,  and  was  instal- 
led without  any  expense  to  himself,  according  to  the  new  form,  as  he 
positively  refused  being  consecrated  according  to  the  old  popish  fashion. 
The  influence  and  facilities  for  study  which  his  new  situation  afforded  him 
were  sedulously  employed  in  furthering  the  object  which  was  dearest 
to  his  heart.  He  preached  the  gospel,  used  every  means  in  his  power 
to  bring  the  people  to  renounce  popery,  and  to  embrace  Christ  Jesus, 
and  employed  his  purse  to  enrich  his  library  with  such  books  and 
manuscripts  as  would  enable  him  to  employ  his  pen  with  the  greater 
effect  for  the^  cause  of  God,  of  truth,  and  of  the  Reformation.  Upon 
the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  popery  returned  with  all  its  horrors  to 
scourge  the  land.  Bale  was  again  exposed  to  the  bitter  resentment 
of  his  enemies.  He  had  laboured  with  assiduity  to  reform  his  diocese, 
and  to  correct  the  abominable  vices  of  the  priests,  to  abolish  the  mass, 
and  to  establish  the  new  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  but  his  zealous  and 
well-meant  efforts  exasperated  his  enemies,  who  were  excited  by  their 
rage  and  malice  to  seek  his  life.  Five  of  his  domestics  were  murdered 
near  his  house,  and  but  for  the  seasonable  arrival  of  the  governor  of 
Kilkenny  with  a  troop  of  soldiers,  he  must  have  shared  the  same  fate. 
Having  heard  that  the  Romish  priests  had  seized  his  books  and  move- 
ables, and  were  then  conspired  to  take  away  his  life,  his  only  alterna- 
tive was  to  seek  security  in  flight  He  first  went  to  Dublin,  where  he 
concealed  himself  till  an  opportunity  offered  which  appeared  favourable 
for  his  escape  to  Scotland.  He  took  his  passage  in  a  trading  vessel 
bound  for  that  country,  but  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  captain  of  a 
Dutch  man-of-war,  who  robbed  him  of  all  his  property.  This  ship 
was  driven  bv  distress  of  weather  into  St  Ives,  in  Cornwall,  where 


Bale  was  takeu  up  on  suspicion  of  treason.  The  accusation  was 
brought  agains»t  him  by  one  Walter,  an  Irishman,  the  pilot  of  the 
Dutch  ship.  The  captain  and  purser,  however,  fearing  lest  tliey  should 
be  deprived  of  the  property  they  had  taken  from  him,  deposed  in  his 
favour,  and  he  was  honourably  acquited.  The  fugitive  was  soon 
brought  into  circumstances  of  still  more  imminent  peril.  In  a  few  days 
the  ship  arrived  in  Dover  roads,  where  one  Martin  persuaded  the  cap- 
tain and  his  crew  that  Bale  had  been  the  principal  instrument  of  pulling 
down  the  mass  in  England,  and  in  keeping  Dr  Gardiner  so  long  in  the 
Tower,  and  that  he  had  poisoned  the  king.  With  this  information, 
the  captain  and  purser  went  ashore,  carrying  along  with  them  his 
f'piscopal  seal  and  several  letters  from  Melancthon  and  other  celebrated 
reformers,  with  the  counciFs  letter  of  his  appointment  to  the  bishopric 
of  Ossory.  It  was  proposed  to  send  Bale  to  London,  or  to  send  two 
persons  to  the  privy  council  with  information,  but,  upon  his  strong  re- 
monstrances to  the  captain,  and  offering  to  pay  fifty  pounds  for  his 
ransom,  on  his  arrival  in  Holland,  he  was  carried  into  Zealand,  and 
lodged  in  the  house  of  one  of  the  owners  of  the  ship,  by  whom  he  waj? 
treated  with  great  kindness.  He  had  only  six  days  allowed  him  to 
raise  the  money  agreed  on  for  his  ransom,  and  was  not  permitted  to 
go  abroad  to  find  his  friends.  While  in  this  state  of  perplexity  and 
distress,  he  was  sometimes  threatened  to  be  thrown  into  the  common 
gaol,  sometimes  to  be  brought  before  the  magistrates,  or  the  clergy,  at 
other  times,  to  be  sent  to  London,  or  to  be  delivered  to  the  queen's 
ambassador  at  Brussels.  At  length  his  kind  host  interposed,  and  ob- 
tained his  discharge  on  paying  thirty  pounds  for  his  ransom. 

Dr  Bale,  having  obtained  his  liberty,  retired  to  Frankfort,  where  the 
English  exiles  were  favoured  by  the  magistrates  with  the  use  of  one  of 
the  churches.  The  exiles  having  found  a  quiet  home  in  a  foreign  land, 
first  settled  their  new  congregation  and  then  entered  into  a  correspon- 
dence with  their  brethren  who  had  found  refuge  in  other  places. 
Their  harmony  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  Dr  Cox,  when  Dr 
Bale  retired  to  Basil,  in  Switzerland,  where  he  remained  until  the 
death  of  Queen  Mary.  On  the  accession  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  re- 
turned to  England,  but  not  to  his  bishopric  in  Ireland.  The  queen 
had,  during  her  minority,  and  while  exercised  with  troubles  under  her 
sister  Mary,  showed  him  the  highest  respect,  but  it  was  very  manifest 
afterwards,  that  she  had  withdrawn  her  affections  from  him.  Probably 
he  had  imbibed  too  deeply  the  principles  of  the  reformed  churches  to 
be  acceptable  to  so  bigotted  an  episcopalian  as  Elizabeth.  The  Doc- 
tor contented  himself  with  a  prebend  in  the  church  of  Canterbury,  the 
rest  of  his  days,  and  refused  to  accept  of  his  bishopric.  Many  of  the 
pious  reformers,  while  living  among  foreign  protestants,  examined  more 
minutely  the  grand  principles  of  the  Reformation ;  on  those  principles 
they  acted  while  in  a  foreign  land ;  nor  could  they  forget  them  on 
their  return  to  their  native  country.  They  laboured  to  obtain  a  more 
perfect  reformation  of  the  English  church.  Dr  Bale  was  among  their 
number,  and  this  accounts  for  his  having  refused  preferment,  as  he  was 
a  zealous  opposer  of  the  Romish  superstitions,  and  was  against  the 
English  rites  and  ceremonies.  It  was  a  settled  principle  with  him, 
that  the  government  of  the  church  by  bishops  did  not  commence  till 
the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  consequently  he  was 

Pkmod.]  miles  COVERDALE.  185 

opposed  to  the  divine  institution  of  biihops.  When  summoned  to  as- 
sist in  the  eonsecration  of  Archbishop  Parker,  he  refused  to  attend, 
doubtless  because  he  entertained  these  principles.  He  died  at  Canter- 
bury, November,  1563,  aged  sixty-eight  years,  and  his  remains  were 
interred  in  the  eathederal  at  that  place«  The  character  of  Dr  Bale 
has  been  drawn  by  his  friends  and  his  enemies ;  the  representation 
of  the  latter  being  in  perfect  contrast  with  that  of  the  former.  His 
writings  against  the  papacy  were  both  voluminous  and  pungent,  and 
they  stung  his  enemies  to  madness  <  but,  in  reading  the  testimony  of 
such  men  in  such  times,  it  becomes  us  to  bear  in  mind  that  they  were 
wont  to  call  evil  good  and  good  evil,  and  therefore  the  censure  of  his 
enemies  may  be  reckoned  as  his  highest  commendation. 

Dr  Bale  wrote  much,  but  his  most  celebrated  work  consisted  of  the 
'  Lives  of  the  most  Eminent  Writers.'  It  came  out  at  three  different  times. 
His  '*  Summarium  illustrium  majoris  Brytannise  Scriptorum  "  was  pub- 
lished at  Wesel,  1549.  This  was  addressed  to  King  Edward,  and  con- 
tained only  '  five  centuries  *  of  writers.  Afterwards,  he  added  four 
more,  and  made  several  corrections  and  additions.  The  book,  thus 
enlarged,  was  entitled,  *^  Scriptorum  illustrium  majoris  Brytanniae, 
quam  nunc  Angliam  et  Scotiam  vocant,  Catalogus ;  a  Japheto  per  8618 
annos,  usque  ad  annum  hunc  Domini  1557,  &c"  It  was  completed 
and  printed  at  Basil,  while  the  author  was  in  a  state  of  exile.  The 
writers  whose  lives  are  contained  in  this  celebrated  work,  are  those  of 
Great  Britain,  including  England  and  Scotland.  The  work  commen- 
ces firom  Japhet,  one  of  the  sons  of  Noah,  and  is  carried  down  through 
a  series  of  3618  years,  to  the  year  of  our  Lord  1557. 

BORN  A.  D.  1487. — DIED  A.  D.  1567. 

Miles  Coverdale,  one  of  the  most  important  names  which  oconr 
m  the  history  of  biblical  literature,  was  bishop  of  Exeter  in  the  reign  ol 
Edward  the  Sixth.  He  was  bom  in  Yorkshire,  1487.  For  this  we 
have  the  authority  of  his  epitaph.  He  received  his  education  at  Cam- 
bridge, in  a  house  of  Augustine  friars,  of  which  Dr  Barnes,  afterwards 
one  of  the  protestant  martyrs,  was  then  prior.  Godwin  tells  us  that 
he  received  the  degree  of  D.D.  from  the  university  of  Tubingen,  but 
has  neglected  to  mention  the  date  of  this  transaction.  It  was  not  till 
many  years  after  this,  that  Cambridge  conferred  upon  him  the  same 
honour.  Early  impressions  in  favour  of  the  religion  in  whiclr  he  had 
been  educated,  induced  him  to  become  an  Augustine  monk.  In  1514 
he  entered  into  holy  orders,  and  was  ordained  at  Norwich  ;  but  he  af- 
terwards renounced  popery,  and  Bale  tells  us  that  he  and  Dr  Barnes, 
his  former  superior,  were  amongst  the  very  first  who  preached  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Reformation.  It  was  about  1530  that  the  reformed  reli- 
gion began  to  make  progress  at  Cambridge.  Men  of  learning,  both 
fVom  colleges  and  monasteries,  met  together  for  friendly  conference  on 
those  points  which  had  been  discussed  by  the  reformers  in  various  parts 
of  Europe.  Their  usual  place  of  assembling  was  called  the  *  White 
House,'  and  being  close  to  King's,  Queen's,  and  St  John's  colleges,  was 

II.  '2  A 


easily  accessible.  Here  Miles  Coverdale  imbibed  the  principles  of  the 
Reformation,  and  was  certainly  one  of  the  earliest  converts  to  them. 
Soon  after  this,  he  appears  to  have  been  abroad  assisting  Tyndale  in 
his  translation  of  the  Bible;  and  in  1535  he  published  his  own,  dedi- 
cating it  to  King  Henry  VIII.  It  was  printed  in  one  volume  folio. 
From  the  appearance  of  the  types,  it  has  been  conjectured  that  it  was 
printed  by  Christopher  Froschower,  at  Zurich.  As  his  revision  of  the 
press  was  most  careful  and  accurate,  he  must  have  resided  in  the  place 
— wherever  it  was — at  which  his  Bible  was  printed.  This  translation 
was  called  special^  because  it  differed  from  the  former  translations ;  as 
may  be  seen  by  a  comparison  of  it  with  Tyndale's.  The  Psalms  are 
those  now  used  in  the  Ek>ok  of  Common  Prayer.  Coverdale,  then,  is 
entitled  to  the  honour  of  having  been  the  first  who  had  translated  the 
whole  Bible  into  English,  and  of  bringing  it  out  under  the  express 
sanction  of  royal  authority. 

No  sooner  had  Coverdale  finished  this  great  work,  than  he  com- 
menced another.  In  1538,  a  quarto  Latin  (Vulgate)  Testament  ap- 
peared, with  Coverdale's  English,  and  a  dedication  by  him.  In  this 
dedication  is  found  the  following  passage : — "  He  does  not  doubt  but 
such  ignorant  bodies  as,  having  cure  of  souls,  are  very  unlearned  in  the 
Latin  tongue,  shall,  through  this  small  labour,  be  occasioned  to  attain 
unto  true  knowledge,  or  at  least  be  constrained  to  say  well  of  the  thing 
which  they  have  heretofore  blasphemed." 

At  the  close  of  1538,  Coverdale  again  visited  the  continent  to  super- 
intend a  new  edition  of  the  Bible,  it  appears  that,  on  account  of  the 
superior  skill  of  the  workmen  at  Paris,  as  well  as  the  greater  cheapness 
and  better  quality  of  the  paper.  King  Henry  requested  Francis  I.  to 
allow  Grafton,  the  celebrated  printer,  to  send  forth  an  edition  of  the 
English  Bible.  To  this  the  French  monarch  acceded ;  and  the  inde- 
fatigable Coverdale  was  despatched  to  superintend  the  press.  But  just 
as  the  work  was  completed,  the  Inquisition  interfered,  and  demanded 
that  the  press  should  be  stopped  and  the  whole  impression  burnt. 
They  dated  their  order,  Dec  17,  1538.  It  was  forthwith  executed, 
and  2,500  copies  instantly  committed  to  the  flames.  This  shows  at 
once  the  jealousy  with  which  the  Romanists  regarded  the  translation  of 
the  Scriptures  into  the  vernacular  tongues,  as  well  as  the  irresistible 
power  which  they  wielded.  The  will  of  monarchs  was  obliged  to 
yield  to  theirs.  That  Providence,  however,  which  can  turn  even  the 
vices  of  men  to  account,  not  only  defeated  the  machinations  of  the  in- 
quisitors, but  rendered  them  subservient  to  the  most  important  and 
beneficial  results.  It  appears  that  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition, 
whose  avarice  got  the  better  of  his  bigotry,  rescued  a  few  chests  of  the 
heretical  volumes  from  the  flames,  and  sold  them  to  a  haberdasher  as 
waste  paper.  The  English  proprietors  ventured  to  return  to  Paris,  alter 
the  alarm  had  somewhat  subsided,  and  succeeded  not  only  in  obtaining 
some  of  the  copies  of  the  condemned  impression,  but — what  was  far  more 
important — ^in  bringing  the  presses,  types,  and  printers,  to  England. 
Here  they  instantly  set  to  work,  and  *  Cranmer's,*  or  the  *  Great  Bible,' 
as  it  was  called,  issued,  in  1 539,  from  the  work-shop  of  Grafton  and 
Whitchurch.  In  this  edition,  Coverdale  carefully  compared  the  trans- 
lation with  the  original ;  but  notwithstanding  all  his  care,  various  sus- 
picions were  insinuated,  not  only  of  its  inaccuracy,  but  even  of  the 

Period.]  MILES  COVERDALE.  187 

heterodoxy  of  some  portions.  Against  this  gross  charge,  Coverdale 
took  an  opportunity  of  vindicating  himself,  when  he  preached  at  Paul  • 
cross, — a  task  of  which  he  acquitted  himself  with  equal  candour  and 
courage.  He  said,  ''  that  he  himself  now  saw  some  faults,  which,  if  he 
might  review  the  book  once  again,  as  he  had  twice  before,  he  had  no 
doubt  he  should  amend ;  but  for  any  heresy y  he  was  sure  that  there  was 
none  maintained  in  his  translation.*' 

In  these  arduous  and  most  important  labours,  equally  honourable  to 
himself  and  beneficial  to  his  country,  Coverdale  was  not  permitted  to 
work — as  too  many  have  been — ^uncheered  by  the  smiles  of  patronage. 
Thomas  Lord  Cromwell  was  a  liberal  patron  of  his.  He  was  also 
almoner  to  Catharine  Parr — the  last  of  King  Henry's  queens — ^who  was 
a  decided  friend  of  the  Reformation.  In  virtue  of  thb  office,  he  officiat- 
ed at  her  funeral,  at  Sudely  castle  in  Gloucestershire,  the  residence  of 
her  last  husband,  Thomas  Lord  Seymour ;  on  which  occasion,  by  the 
bye,  our  reformer  took  an  opportunity  not  only  of  giving  utterance  to 
the  great  doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  but  of  explaining  away,  in  quite 
a  protestant  style,  the  popish  trumpery  with  which,  as  usual,  the  fune- 
ral was  celebrated.  "  The  oiferinge,"  he  said,  *'  which  was  there  don, 
was  not  don  any  tliinge  to  profytt  the  deade,  but  for  the  poor  onlye ; 
and  also  the  lights  which  were  caried,  &c.  were  for  the  honour  of  the 
person,  and  for  no  other  entente  nor  purpose."  &c  In  1547,  he 
preached  at  St  Paul's  against  some  Anabaptists,  whom,  with  greater 
effect  than  is  found  generally  to  accompany  the  efforts  of  the  contro- 
versialist, he  is  said  to  have  reclaimed.  In  1551  he  was  raised  to  the 
see  of  Exeter,  and  his  elevation  was  accompanied  with  the  most  flatter- 
ing testimonials  of  the  esteem  in  which  King  Edward  held  him.  It 
was  expressly  stated,  that  '^  he  was  promoted  on  account  of  his  extra- 
ordinary knowledge  in  divinity,  and  his  unblemished  character."  The 
circumstances  which,  it  is  conjectured,  were  partly  the  cause  of  his  ele- 
vation, are  very  curious,  and  deserve  to  be  recorded.  It  appears  that 
Lord  Russel  was  sent,  in  1549,  to  suppress  the  rebellion  in  the  west, 
and  Coverdale  was  appointed  to  accompany  him.  It  is  said  that  the 
reformer's  preaching  was  the  most  effectual  means  of  quieting  the 
minds  of  the  people.  This  probably  suggested  the  propriety  of  choos- 
ing such  a  man  for  such  a  quarter ;  and  upon  the  death  of  the  then 
bishop — a  bigoted  catholic,  and  in  every  respect  the  opposite  of  Cover- 
dale — ^he  \ras  chosen  his  successor.  At  his  first  appointment,  his  po- 
verty would  not  permit  him  to  pay  the  first-fruits  ;  from  which,  there- 
fore, the  king,  at  the  request  of  Cranmer,  exempted  him. 

In  his  diocese,  he,  of  course,  favoured  the  spread  of  the  reformed  re- 
ligion. In  the  administration  of  all  its  affairs,  however,  he  displayed  the 
strictest  equity.  So  anxious  was  he  that  the  law,  both  civil  and  eccle- 
siastical— ^in  which  he  did  not  pretend  to  be  very  profoundly  skilled— 
should  be  justly  executed,  that  he  requested  the  university  of  Oxford 
to  recommend  a  suitable  chancellor  for  his  diocese.  They  recommend- 
ed Dr  Robert  Weston,  afterwards  the  Irish  lord-chancellor,  whom 
Coverdale  treated  with  the  greatest  liberality. 

All  his  noble  qualities,  however, — ^his  integrity,  his  humility,  his  ge- 
nerosity, his  hospitality,  bis  unwearied  efforts  to  do  good,  his  diligent 
discharge  of  his  functions, — could  not  protect  him  from  the  slanders  of 
the  enemies  of  the  Reformation.     So  long  as  Edward  VI.  lived,  they 


little  troubled  liiin,-*he  could  defy  their  calumnies.  But  no  sooner 
did  Mary  accede  to  the  throne,  than  he  was  ejected  from  his  bishopric 
and  cast  into  prison.  After  two  years'  confinement,  he  was  released 
at  the  solicitation  of  the  king  of  Denmark.  This  auspicious  interposi- 
tion was  brought  about  in  a  very  remarkable  manner.  It  appears  that 
Dr  Machabceus,  the  chaplain  of  the  king  of  Denmark,  and  Coverdale, 
had  married  sisters.  On  Coverdale's  imprisonment,  Dr  M.  informed 
his  royal  master  of  tlie  perilous  circumstances  in  which  his  relative  was 
placed.  It  was  not,  however,  until  the  king  had  written  two  or  three 
times,  that  Mary  yielded  to  his  solicitation.  Coverdate  has  sometimes 
been  charged  with  having  taken  a  part  in  an  insurrection  against  the 
queen ;  and  this  has  been  sometimes  represented  as  the  cause  of  his 
imprisonment.  As  the  queen,  however,  did  not  urge  this  in  her  reply 
to  his  Danish  majesty,  we  may  conclude  it  to  be  utterly  false.  It 
seems  to  have  been  more  likely  owing  to  his  non-payment  of  the 
tenths ;  as  the  first-fruits  had  been  already  remitted  by  the  royal  per- 
mission. The  plea  which  Coverdale  set  up  when  charged  with  this, 
was,  that  he  had  not  enjoyed  the  bishopric  long  enough  to  meet  their 
claims.  No  sooner  was  he  set  at  liberty — which  was  on  the  hard  con- 
dition of  expatriating  himself — than  he  repaired  to  the  court  of  Den- 
mark. The  monarch  who  had  procured  his  pardon  was  anxious  to 
detain  him.  But  the  conscientious  reformer  not  being  able  to  preach 
in  Danish,  preferred  those  places  where  his  lips  would  not  be  seided  on 
the  most  important  themes,  and  was  contented  to  be  a  wanderer,  and 
homeless,  so  that  he  might  glorify  his  Master.  He  repaired,  therefore, 
to  Wesel,  then  to  Bergzabem,  and  lastly  to  Geneva,  where  he  joined 
many  of  the  English  exiles,  and  assisted  in  the  translation  of  the 
*  Geneva  Bible.'  This  translation  had  notes,  which  brought  it  into 
very  general  use, — so  much  so,  that  between  the  years  1560  and  1616, 
there  were  not  less  than  thirty  editions  printed,  in  folio,  4to,  and  8vo. 

When  Elizabeth  ascended  the  throne,  Coverdale  returned  to  his  na- 
tive land,  but  with  much  altered  views  on  the  sulijects  of  church  disci- 
pline and  the  ceremonies,  in  which  he  pleaded  for  the  severe  simplicity 
of  the  Geneva  school.  At  the  consecration  of  Archbishop  Parker,  at 
which  Coverdale  assisted,  he  refused  to  wear  any  thing  more  than  a 
long  black  cloth  gown.  Such  conduct,  in  such  times,  of  course,  com- 
pletely blocked  up  the  way  to  preferment.  Many  of  his  friends  were, 
it  is  true,  extremely  anxious  fbr  his  advancement,  and  none  more  so 
than  Grindall.  That  amiable  prelate  was  known  to  say  on  this  sub- 
ject— "  I  cannot  excuse  us  bishops ;"  he  even  applied  to  the  secretary 
of  state,  telling  him  that  it  was  unjust  "  that  father  Coverdale,  who 
was  in  Christ  before  us  all,  should  now  be  without  support."  He  then 
proceeded  to  recommend  him  to  the  bishopric  c^  Llandaff,  which  was 
effected ;  but  the  increasing  infirmities  of  our  reformer  caused  him  to 
decline  so  important  a  charge.  The  bishop  then  collated  him  to  the 
rectory  of  St  Magnus,  near  old  London  bridge.  Here,  again,  he  had 
to  complain  that  his  abject  poverty — of  which  he  makes  affecting  men- 
tion in  some  of  his  letters — ^would  not  permit  him  to  pay  his  first- 
fruits,  which  were  again  remitted.  He  exercised  his  ministry  here  no 
more  than  two  years ;  when  he  either  resigned,  or  was  compelled  to 
abandon  his  charge.  This  was  in  1566,  only  a  little  before  his  death. 
While  he  did  preach,  he  was,  as  may  readily  be  supposed,  the  &voiir- 


Pbmod.]  bishop  BONNER.  189 

ite  preacher  of  the  puritans.  He  died,  as  some  say,  in  1565,  or  as 
others,  in  1567;  the  parish-register,  however,  proves  that  he  was 
buried,  Feb.  19,  1568,  in  the  church  of  St  Bartholomew,  Exchange. 

Of  the  numerous  tracts  which  Coverdale  put  forth,  most  of  which 
Were  in  defence  of  the  principles  or  doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  it  is 
impossible  to  give  a  correct  list  They  are  very  rarely  to  be  met  with. 
By  far  the  greater  part  of  them  are  translations  from  the  German. 
No  manuscripts  of  Bishop  Coverdale  remain,  except  a  short  letter  in  the 
Harleian  collection. 

3Ste]^op  ISontttn 

BORN  CnuO.  A.  D.  1500. — DIED  A.  D.  1569. 

-  The  chahicter  of  this  ecclesiastic  is  written  in  letters  of  blood  on  the 
page  of  English  history.  "  Nature  seems  to  have  designed  him  for  an 
executioner,"  says  Grainger,  and  the  remark  is  not  too  severe.  He  was 
bom  of  humble  parentage  at  Hanley  in  Worcestershire.  Finding  a 
g^ierous  patron  in  his  boyhood,  he  was  sent  to  school,  and  afterwards 
entered  of  Broadgate  hall,  Oxford.  He  entered  into  orders  about  the 
year  1519,  and  shortly  afterwards  received  an  appointment  from  Car- 
dinal Wi^sey,  who  continued  to  patronise  him  until  his  own  sudden  fall 
from  power.  The  cardinal's  death,  however,  did  not  block  up  Bonner's 
road  to  preferment,  for  soon  after  we  find  him  in  high  favour  both  with 
Henry  VIII.  and  his  new  minister  Cromwell.  He  began  his  career  as 
a  courtier  by  favouring  the  Lutherans  and  promoting  the  king's  divorce 
from  Cathanne  of  Spain.  In  1532,  he  was  sent  to  Rome  to  apolc^ise 
to  the  holy  fether  for  Henry's  non-compliance  with  his  solemn  citation. 
The  next  year  he  again  appeared  at  Rome,  to  deliver  his  master's 
appeal  from  the  decision  of  the  pope  to  the  first  general  council. 
Bonner  seems  to  have  been  selected  for  these  services  on  account  of  his 
bold  and  fearless  character;  and  he  betrayed  so  much  efirontery  and  viru- 
lence on  the  occasion  of  his  second  appearance  at  Rome,  that  the  holy 
&ther  talked  of  punishing  his  audacity  by  throwing  him  into  a  cauldron 
of  melted  lead,  on  which  he  very  wisely  withdrew  himself  by  secret 
flight  from  the  papal  dominions.  In  1538,  while  discharging  the  duties 
of  ambassador  at  the  French  court,  he  was  nominated  to  the  bishopric 
of  Hereford ;  but  was  translated  before  consecration  to  that  of  London. 

At  the  time  of  Henry's  death,  Bonner  filled  the  situation  of  am- 
bassador at  the  court  of  Charles  V.  He  had  gone  along  with  Henry 
in  a  variety  of  acts  hostile  to  the  Catholic  religion,  but  he  now  changed 
his  line  of  policy,  and  declined  to  renounce  his  allegiance  to  the  pope, 
when  called  upon  to  do  so  by  Edward's  council.  His  obstinacy  was 
punished  by  imprisonment  in  the  Fleet  prison,  but  having  given  in 
his  submission,  he  was  soon  afterwards  released  from  confinement 
His  remissness  in  the  execution  of  the  orders  in  court,  particularly  those 
relating  to  the  use  of  the  common  prayer-book,  drew  upon  him  a  severe 
reprimand  from  the  privy-council.  For  subsequent  acts  of  contempt, 
he  was  at  last  committed  to  the  M arshalsea,  and  deprived  of  his  bishopric. 

On  the  accession  of  Mary,  he  was  restored  to  his  see,  and  made  presi- 
dent of  the  convocation  in  room  of  Cranmer.     The  same  year,  he  visited 


his  diocese  and  exerted  himflelf  with  great  zeal  in  rooting  out  all  traces 
of  the  Reformation  and  in  re-establishing  the  sacrament  of  the  mass. 
Within  three  years  thereafter,  this  merciless  prelate  had  committed 
upwards  of  two  hundred  persons  to  the  flames  on  account  of  their  re- 
fusing to  conform  to  the  tenets  and  worship  of  the  Roman  church.^ 
Among  his  more  distingubhed  victims,  was  Anne  Askew,  John  Rogers, 
Bishop  Hooper,  and  John  Bradford. 

On  the  death  of  Mary,  Bonner  aflected  to  congratulate  her  successor, 
and  for  this  purpose  went  to  meet  Elizabeth  at  Highgate,  but  that 
princess  shrunli  from  the  blood-stained  priest,  and  declined  to  show 
him  any  mark  of  &your.  On  being  required  to  take  the  oath  of  aUe- 
giance  and  supremacy  to  Elizabeth,  he  was  deprived  a  second  time  of 
his  bishopric  and  committed  to  the  Marshalsea,  where  he  died  after 
some  years  confinement,  on  the  5th  of  September,  1569. 

The  Roman  catholic  historian,  Dodd,  has  attempted  to  excuse 
Bonner's  cruelties  by  weakly  arguing,  that  **  seeing  he  proceeded  accord- 
ing to  the  statutes  then  in  force,  and  by  the  directions  of  the  legislative 
power,  he  stands  in  no  need  of  apology  on  that  score."  As  if  Bonner 
himself  had  had  no  hand  in  re-enacting  those  persecuting  statutes,  and 
as  if  his  putting  them  in  force  was  not  as  much  an  act  of  free  choice  on 
his  part  as  his  declining  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  Elizabeth. 
Besides,  Bonner  repeatedly  gave  evidence  of  the  cruelty  and  malignity 
of  his  disposition,  by  anticipating  or  aggravating  the  sentence  of  the  law ; 
sometimes  he  would  snatch  the  whip  from  the  hands  of  the  executioner, 
and  apply  it  with  his  own  hands  to  his  unfortunate  prisoners ;  and  on  one 
occasion  he  first  tore  out  the  beard  of  a  poor  man,  in  a  transport  of 
wrath  at  his  inflexible  adherence  to  the  reformed  faith,  and  then  held 
his  hand  to  a  candle  till  the  sinews  and  veins  burst.  Mr  John  Harring- 
ton tells  us,  that  when  Bonner  was  shown  a  wooden  print  of  himself  in 
the  first  edition  of  Fox's  <  Acts  and  Monuments,'  wherein  he  is  repre- 
sented scourging  Thomas  Henshawe  with  his  own  hands,  the  unabated 
prelate  only  laughed  aloud  at  the  sketch,  and  exclaimed,  **  A  vengeance 
on  the  fool  I     How  could  he  get  my  picture  drawn  so  accurately  ?" 

BORN  A.  D.  1522. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1571. 

John  Jewel  was  born  at  Buden,  in  the  parish  of  Barry-Narber, 
in  the  county  of  Devon,  24th  May,  1522.  His  parents  were  highly 
respectable  in  their  circumstances,  and  truly  estimable  in  their  disposi- 
tions and  characters.  The  early  years  of  our  author  were  passed  un- 
der the  wise  and  careful  superintendence  of  his  parents,  who  cherished 
those  talents  in  their  son,  the  dawn  of  which  was  manifest  in  his  youth, 
and  assiduously  watched  the  tender  buds  of  genius  and  piety  which 
were  destined  hereafter  to  shed  so  rich  a  fragrance.  He  was  sent  to 
school  first  in  Barnstaple,  where  his  master  became  exceedingly  at- 
tached to  him,  in  consequence  of  the  loveliness  of  his  disposition,  the 
quickness  of  his  parts,  and  the  diligence  of  his  application  to  study. 

'  Corner's  Eccles.  Hist.  ii.  p.  396, 

Pjbkiod.]  bishop  jewel.  191 

Nor  was  the  attachment  of  the  scholar  to  his  teacher  less  ardent,  sin* 
cere,  or  permanent,  but  was  displayed  in  after  life  by  condescending 
regard  when  he  became  a  bishop,  as  well  as  by  the  reward  of  his 
esteemed  instructions.  At  the  age  of  thirteen  he  was  removed  to  Ox- 
ford, and  committed  to  the  care  of  Mr  Surrey  of  Merton  college,  a 
man  but  meanly  learned,  and  strenuous  for  popery.  Soon  after  his 
removal  to  Oxford,  he  was  taken  notice  of  by  Mr  Parkhurst,  who  em- 
ployed him  as  his  amanuensis,  and  was  desirous  not  only  of  imparting 
to  him  all  wholesome  learning,  but  to  season  his  mind  with  pure  re- 
ligion. Mr  Parkhurst  received  him  under  his  own  tuition,  and  be- 
stowed upon  him  the  place  which  he  had  in  his  gift,  and  often  took 
ocicasion  in  his  presence  to  dispute  with  Mr  Burrey  about  controverted 
points.  Intending  to  collate  the  translations  of  Tyndale  and  Coverdale, 
he  gave  Burrey  Tyndale's  translation  to  read,  while  he  overlooked  Co- 
verdale's.  During  this  collation  Jewel  often  smiled,  which  Mr  Park- 
hurst observing,  and  marvelling  that  one  so  young  should  nuu*k  the 
barbarisms  in  the  vulgar  translation,  he  exclaimed,  **  Surely  Paul's 
cross  will  one  day  ring  of  this  boy  I"  These  words  seemed  prophetic 
of  that  noble  sermon,  which  many  years  after  he  preached  on  that 
spot,  by  which  he  dealt  so  heavy  a  blow  at  the  superstitions  of  the 
popish  mass  as  all  its  advocates  have  never  been  able  to  counteract 

He  removed  firom  Merton  college  to  Corpus  Christi,  where  he  w4b 
placed  on  the  senior  logic  form,  and  wherein  he  took  his  degree  be- 
fore the  senior.  He  excelled  in  his  early  years  in  poetry  and  elo- 
quence, for  which  his  talents  were  greatly  admired.  Not  long  after 
he  took  his  degree,  he  was  unanimously  chosen  in  preference  to  many 
masters  and  bachelors,  his  seniors,  to  read  the  Humanity  lecture,  in 
which  he  acquitted  himself  with  such  diligence  and  acceptance,  that 
many  came  from  other  colleges  to  hear  him,  drawn  by  the  report  of 
his  ability;  and  even  by  the  beauties  of  his  rhetoric,  and  the  pungency 
and  brilliance  of  his  wit.  His  habits  of  study  were  intense,  and  even 
his  recreations  from  study  were  studious,  being  spent  either  in  instruct- 
ing his  scholars,  in  disputing  with  others,  or  in  ruminating  over  those 
subjects  on  which  he  had  been  reading.  His  conversation  and  deport- 
ment were  highly  exemplary,  and  in  those  years  of  life  in  which  the 
passions  are  strongest,  and  the  world  has  the  most  powerful  influence 
to  draw  the  heart  and  feet  aside,  even  an  enemy  was  obliged  to  tes- 
tify,— ^'  I  should  love  thee.  Jewel,  if  thou  wert  not  a  Zuinglian ;  in  thy 
faith  I  hold  thee  a  heretic,  but  in  thy  life  thou  art  an  angel  I**  Thus  he 
grew  in  learning,  religion  and  fame,  during  the  reign  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  towards  the  end  of  which  he  became  master  of  arts.  In  the 
short  reign  of  Edward  the  Sixth,  his  reputation  and  influence  rose 
rapidly,  and  to  the  highest  pitch.  Jewel  hearing  of  the  fame  of  Peter 
Martyr,  the  new  professor  of  divinity  at  Oxford,  repaired  to  him  for  in- 
struction, copied  out  his  lectures,  and  was  his  notary  in  the  disputation  in 
the  divinity  schools,  with  Chedsey,  Tresham,  Morgan  and  others,  about 
the  real  presence,  and  afterwards  became  intimate  with  him.  While 
these  days  of  peace  and  liberty  continued,  he  read  a  lecture  in  the  hall, 
and  privately  to  his  scholars.  He  preached  also  at  Sunningwell.  On 
the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  he  was  ordered  to  leave  his  college ;  and 
his  farewell  address  on  this  occasion  breathed  a  spirit  of  deep-toned 
feeling  and  glowing  eloquence.     After  taking  leave  of  the  university, 


he  was  in  imminent  danger  of  felling  into  the  hands  of  the  execrable 
Bonner.  In  his  flight  from  Oxford,  he  went  on  foot  in  a  snowy  win* 
ter*s  night  towards  London,  and  would  probably  have  perished  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  had  he  not  been  found  by  Bishop  La- 
timer s  servant,  who  discovered  him  on  the  ground,  panting  and  labour* 
ing  for  life.  Soon  afterwards,  he  followed  the  example  of  many  of  his 
pious  countrymen,  and  escaped  beyond  the  sea.  Previously  to  his 
departure  for  the  continent,  it  i^pears  he  was  by  the  craft  of  some  of 
the  popish  prelates  entrapped  to  sign  a  book,  whereby  he  seemed  to 
countenance  some  of  the  popish  errors  This  subscription  wounded 
his  conscience,  beclouded  his  character,  and  grieved  his  persecuted 
brethren,  but  did  not  mitigate  the  persecuting  spirit  of  his  enemies, 
nor  promote  his  own  safety.  His  biographers,  while  they  faithfully 
reconi  this  blot  on  his  reputation,  deplore  it,  and  our  author  himself, 
immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Frankfort,  preached  an  excellent  sermon ; 
at  the  close  of  which,  with  a  flood  of  tears,  he  said,  <'  It  was  my  ab- 
ject, and  cowardly  mind,  and  faint  heiui;,  that  made  my  weak  heart  to 
commit  this  wickedness  ;'*  then  with  deep  groans  and  sighs,  he  made 
humble  supplication  for  pardon,  first  to  Almighty  God,  whom  he  had 
ofiended,  and  afterwards  to  his  church  which  he  had  scandalized.  The 
large  congregation  was  deeply  affected,  and  after  the  sermon,  embraced 
him  as  a  brother.  At  FranldTort,  he  met  with  many  eminent  men,  his 
countrymen,  and  being  invited  by  several  kind  letters  from  Peter 
Martyr,  he  went  to  Argentine,  where  he  met  with  Bishop  Peynet, 
Archbishop  Grindall,  and  many  gentlemen  who  had  left  their  native 
soil  and  all  their  estates,  with  friends  and  kindred,  for  the  testimony  of 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  When  Peter  Martyr  was  sent  for  by  the 
senate  of  the  Tigurines  to  succeed  Rebian  in  the  Hebrew  lecture  and 
exposition  of  holy  scripture,  he  took  Jewel  with  him,  accompanied 
also  with  many  other  English  exiles,  who  were  supported  by  the  lib- 
eral contribution  of  London  Christians,  until  Bishop  Gardiner,  obtain- 
ing information  of  it,  stopped  the  current  of  this  Christian  libendity,  by 
imprisoning  and  impoverishing  their  bene&ctors.  But  the  God  whom 
they  served  was  graciously  pleased  to  raise  up  a  friend  for  the  exiles  in 
Christopher,  prince  of  Wirtenberg,  who  invited  many  of  them  to  him, 
and  afforded  them  bountiful  supplies,  as  did  also  the  Tigurine  senators 
towards  the  rest.  The  great  ornament  of  the  reformed  church,  Calvin, 
Zuinglius,  Melancthon,  and  others,  manifested  the  tenderest  sympathy 
towards  their  suffering  English  brethren,  and  afforded  them  constant 
encouragement  and  comfort  by  their  letters.  Jewel  resided  for  a,  con- 
siderable time  at  the  house  of  Peter  Martyr,  endeavouring,  by  every 
means  in  his  power,  to  allay  the  contentions  which  arose  about  cere- 
monies and  forms  of  religion  among  his  countrymen  in  exile. 

The  death  of  Queen  Mary  afforded  Jewel  an  opportunity  of  return- 
ing to  his  native  land,  and  very  soon  after  his  return  he  was  sent  for 
to  a  disputation  at  Westminster.  His  next  important  commission  was 
to  visit  the  Western  circuit,  in  order  to  investigate  the  state  of  religion, 
and  to  preach  the  gospeL  On  his  return  from  this  visitation,  he  was 
consecrated  bishop  of  Salisbury,  which  preferment  he  accepted  with 
great  reluctance,  after  repeating  the  apostle's  words,  *^  He  that  desireth 
a  bishopric  desireth  a  good  work."  The  liberalitfr  of  Bishop  Jewel  was 
remarkable,  and  his  labour  in  study,  preaching,  and  writing,  almost 

Period.]  ARCHBISHOP  PARKER  193 

incredible.  He  was  much  occupied  in  disputing  with  the  papists,  both 
with  bis  tongue  and  with  his  pen.  A  lasting  memorial  of  his  zeal  and 
ability  in  controversy,  remains  to  speak  his  fame  to  many  generations, 
— '  His  Defence  of  the  Apology  of  the  Church  of  England.'  His  ex* 
cessive  labour  hastened  his  death,  which  took  place  in  1571,  in  the 
50th  year  of  his  age.  He  was  occupied  in  his  great  work  of  preach- 
ing almost  till  the  day  of  his  departure.  The  last  exercise  in  which  he 
was  engaged  exemplified  the  deep  concern  he  felt  to  be  found  faithful. 
Having,  after  his  return  from  a  conference  in  London,  commenced  a 
visitation  throughout  his  diocese,  in  which,  with  more  severity  than  he 
had  ever  exercised  before,  he  reproved  the  vices  both  of  the  clergy 
and  of  the  laity,  and  preached  oftener,  which  greatly  enfeebled  his 
constitution,  he  was  recommended  by  a  gentleman  to  return  home 
and  rest  his  body  for  his  heal1«h's  sake ;  but  he  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  spare  himself,  using  this  remarkable  expression — '*  It  becometh  a 
bishop  to  die  preaching  in  the  pulpit."  He  went  on,  therefore,  on 
horseback  to  preach  at  Lacock  in  Wiltshire,  and  in  a  state  of  great 
exhaustion  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  preached  his  last  sermon  from 
Gal.  V.  16,  *  Walk  in  the  Spirit.'  He  went  from  the  pulpit  to  his  bed, 
and  in  a  few  days  expired.  His  closing  scene  was  worthy  of  his  char- 
acter and  of  his  life,  and  illustrated  the  reality  and  the  strength  of  his 

BORN  A.D.  1504. — DIED  A.  D.  1575. 

Matthew  Parker,  the  second  protestant  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, was  bom  in  the  parish  of  St  Saviour's,  Norwich,  on  the  6th  of 
August,  1504.  In  1521,  he  was  admitted  of  Corpus  Christi  college, 
Cambridge,  of  which  house  he  was  chosen  scholar,  or  bible-clerk, 
six  months  aflter.  In  1526,  he  was  made  sub-deacon.  While  at  col- 
lege, he  had  for  his  contemporaries,  Nicholas  Bacon  and  Cecil,  Brad- 
ford and  Ridley.  In  1527,  he  was  ordained  priest,  and  elected  to  a 
fellowship.  His  studies  appear  at  this  time  to  have  been  mainly  di- 
rected towards  the  Scriptures"  and  the  writings  of  the  early  fathers ;  but 
his  scholarship  was  in  such  repute  that  Cardinal  Wolsey  invited  him 
to  join  his  new  foundation  at  Oxford, — an  invitation  which  he  declined 
at  the  same  time  with  his  distinguished  predecessor  in  the  archbishop- 
ric, Cranmer. 

In  1533,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  granted  Parker  a  license  to 
preach  throughout  his  province,  and  the  king  gave  him  a  patent  for  the 
same  throughout  the  kingdom.  He,  now  preached  frequently  before 
the  court,  and  at  St  Paul's  cross,  and  other  public  places.  His  zeal 
for  the  promotion  of  religion  and  learning  recommended  him  to  the 
intimacy  and  friendship  of  such  men  as  Bilney,  Stafford,  Arthur,  Friar 
Barnet,  Scroode,  Fowke,  and  other  leading  scholars  and  reformers. 
For  Bilney,  in  particular,  he  cherished  so  great  veneration  that  he 
went  down  to  Norwich  to  attend  him  at  his  martyrdom,  and  afterwards 
fearlessly  vindicated  the  memory  of  his  murdered  friend  against  the 
impeachment  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  who  asserted  that,  when  brought 

II.  2  B 



to  the  tiakef  Bilney  had  renonnced  his  protectant  {H-incipIeSy  and  ex- 
preited  his  adherence  to  the  Romish  church,  Qaeen  Anne  Boleyn 
appointed  Parker  her  own  chaplain,  and,  a  short  time  before  her  deati^ 
committed  her  daughter  Elizabeth  to  his  especial  charge,  enjoining  him 
never  to  withhold  from  the  young  princess  his  pious  and  prudent 
counsel,  and  charging  her  to  bear  in  remembrance  her  benefactor,  if  it 
should  ever  be  in  her  power  to  reward  his  fidelity. 

In  1585,  he  proceeded  B.  D.,  and,  in  the  same  year,  was  preferred  by 
the  queen  to  the  deanery  of  the  college  of  Stoke-Clare,  in  Suffolk.  This 
place  afforded  him  an  agreeable  retirement  for  the  pursuit  of  his  ^vourite 
studies.  Hu  friend,  Dr  Hadden,  used  to  call  it  Parker  s  Tusculanum. 
It  is  not  quite  certain  at  what  time  Parker  first  imbibed  the  principles 
of  the  reformers,  but  soon  after  he  began  to  preach  in  public  we  find 
articles  exhibited  against  him  by  some  of  the  more  zealous  papists* 
On  the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  Henry  i^pointed  him  one  of  his  chap* 
lains,  and  nominated  him  to  a  prebend  of  Ely.  In  1544,  he  was  pro- 
moted to  the  mastership  of  Corpus  Cbristi  college,  Cambridge,  on  the 
special  recommendation  of  the  king.  In  this  office  he  zealously  applied 
himself  to  reform  and  correct  abuses ;  he  also  undertook  the  revisal  of 
the  statutes,  which,  with  the  countenance  of  his  friend,  Dr  May,  he 
reduced  to  nearly  their  present  form.  In  1547,  he  married  Margaret, 
daughter  of  Robert  Harlstone,  of  Mattis  hall,  in  Norfolk,  to  whom  be 
had  been  long  attached.  Mr  Masters  conjectures  that  it  was  about 
this  time  he  drew  up  a  short  treatise,  still  preserved  in  the  library  of 
his  college,  *  De  conjugio  Sacerdotum.'  On  the  occasion  of  Kett's  re- 
bellion, Dr  Parker,  happening  to  be  on  a  visit  to  his  firiends  at  Nor- 
folk, did  eminent  service  to  the  government,  by  his  exhortations  and 
services ;  he  even  ventured  into  the  camp  of  the  rebels,  and  boldly  in- 
veighed against  the  sin  of  rebellion,  charging  them  with  disloyalty  to  God 
as  well  as  to  the  king,  and  exhorting  them  to  return  to  their  allegiance, 
and  disperse  quietly.  On  the  death  of  Bucer,  who  had  long  lived 
on  terms  of  intimate  friendship  with  Parker,  the  latter  preached  his 
funeral  sermon.  It  was  afterwards  printed,  and  is  much  superior  to 
the  ordinary  compositions  of  the  day. 

A  variety  of  promotions  were  conferred  upon  Parker  during  the 
reign  of  Henry.  It  is  even  said  that  he  had  the  ofi*er  of  a  bishopric, 
but  declined  it.  The  accession  of  Mary  changed  the  face  of  his  for- 
tunes. In  common  with  the  other  married  clergy  who  would  not  put 
away  their  wives,  he  was  stripped  of  all  his  preferments.  But  he  bore 
his  reverse  of  fortune  with  firm  resignation.  Strype  quotes  a  MS.  in  the 
college  library,  which  says  of  Parker  at  this  period,  that  he  "  lurked  secretly 
ui  those  years  (the  reign  of  Queen  Mary)  within  the  house  of  one  of  his 
friends,  leading  a  poor  life,  without  any  man's  aid  or  succour;  and  yet  so 
well'Contented  with  his  lot,  that,  in  that  pleasant  rest  and  leisure  for  his 
studies,  he  would  never,  in  respect  of  himself,  have  desired  any  other  kind 
of  life,  the  extreme  fear  of  danger  only  excepted."  Either  from  the  remiss* 
ness  of  his  enemies,  or  the  kindness  of  his  friends,  he  succeeded  in  secret- 
ing himself  in  these  peculi^  times,  being,  says  Middleton,  "  reserved 
for  better  days."  Among  other  treatises  which  employed  his  pen  during 
n**  Iji.*®'^*^  was  one  in  defence  of  priests'  marriages  against  a  book  by 

'  Martin.     It  was  printed  without  his  name,  in   1562.^      He  also 

»  Strype,  p.  504^ 

Period.]  ARCHBISHOP  PARKER.  193 

traDsIated  the  book  of  Psalms  into  metre,  which  was  afterwarcU  prmted^ 
probably  in  1567.  This  book — which  Strype  says  he  never  could  get  a 
sight  of- — is  divided  into  three  quinquagenesy  with  the  argument  of 
each  psalm  in  metre  placed  before  it,  and  a  suitable  collect  at  the  end 
of  each.  Some  copies  of  verses,  and  transcripts  from  the  fathers  and 
others,  on  the  use  of  the  psalms,  are  prefixed  to  it,  with  a  table  dividing 
them  into  Propheticiy  Eruditoriiy  Comolaioriiy  drc.  And,  at  the  enc^ 
are  added  eight  several  tunes,  with  alphabetical  tables  to  the  whole. 

On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  Parker  left  his  retreat,  and  was  sent  for 
to  town  by  his  old  acquaintance  and  college-fellow.  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon, 
now  lord-keeper.  For  a  considerable  time  he  resisted  the  lord-keeper's 
invitations ;  but  it  had  been  resolved  to  elevate  him  to  the  primacy, 
and  after  extorting  an  unwilling  consent  from  him,  he  was  consecrated 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  on  the  17th  of  December,  1559.  The  subse- 
quent history  of  Archbishop  Parker  is  that  of  the  church  of  England. 

His  first  care  was  to  have  the  several  sees  filled  with  learned  and  pioun 
men.  In  this  particular,  he  exercised  a  most  wholesome  influence  on 
the  state  of  religion  throughout  the  kingdom,  for  it  has  been  observed, 
that  during  the  fifteen  years  of  his  primacy,  he  either  consecrated  or 
confirmed  the  bishops  of  all  the  dioceses  in  England, — a  circumstance 
which  has  occurred  to  him  alone  of  all  the  archbishops  of  Canterbury. 
He  was  also  eminently  useftil  in  filling  the  chairs  of  the  several  colleges 
with  men  of  sound  learning  and  principles.  Soon  after  his  consecra- 
tion, he  received  a  letter  from  the  celebrated  Calvin,  ui^ng  him  to 
entreat  her  majesty  to  summon  a  general  assembly  of  all  the  protestant 
clergy,  for  the  settlement  of  some  uniform  plan  of  church  discipline 
and  service.  Parker  laid  the  venerable  reformer's  letter  before  the 
council,  who  directed  him  to  return  thanks  for  the  conununication,  but 
to  signify  that  they  were  resolved  to  abide  by  episcopacy  in  ecclesiasti- 
cal affairs.  In  1561,  he  united  with  some  of  the  other  prelates  in  an 
application  to  the  queen,  against  the  use  of  images.  Their  remonstrance 
succeeded  upon  this  point,  but  he  was  less  successful  in  his  attempts  to 
overcome  the  queen's  repugnance  to  the  marriage  of  the  clergy.  On 
one  occasion  in  particular,  she  so  ruffled  the  archbishop's  temper  on 
this  point,  that  in  a  fit  of  chagrin  and  vexation,  he  addressed  a  letter  to 
Secretary  Cecil,  in  which  he  protests  that  her  majesty's  behaviour  to 
him  had  quite  indisposed  him  for  all  business,  and  that  if  she  went  on 
as  she  had  threatened  to  force  the  clergy  to  any  sinful  compliance,  he 
and  others  would  obey  God  rather  than  man,  and  he  trusted  would 
have  conscience  and  courage  enough  to  embrace  the  stake  rather  than 
deny  their  faith,  by  pronouncing  that  unlawful  which  the  Scriptures 
permitted  and  enjoined.  It  was  with  nearly  equal  difficulty  that  our 
archbishop  moderated  betwixt  the  queen  and  the  clergy  in  the  matter 
of  ecclesiastical  habits.  By  virtue  of  a  clause  in  the  act  of  uniformity, 
which  gave  the  queen  a  power  of  enjoining  any  other  rites  or  ceremonies 
she  pleased,  she  sent  forth  her  injunctions  that  the  clergy  should  wear 
seemly  garments,  square  caps,  and  copes.  Many  conformed  to  her 
majesty's  wishes  in  this  respect ;  but  others,  who  were  of  opinion  that 
popery  might  consist  in  dress  as  well  as  doctrine,  declined  to  wear  the 
cap  and  surplice.  Hereupon  the  queen  ordered  the  archbishops  to  con- 
fer with  her  ecclesiastical  commissioners  with  the  view  of  establishing 
and  maintaining  an  exact  order  and  uniformity  in  all  external  rites  and 






ceremonies  of  the  church,  and  Parker  accordingly  drew  up  ordinances 
for  the  due  order  in  preaching  and  administering  the  sacraments,  and 
for  the  apparel  of  persons  ecclesiastical.     But  the  puritan  party,  headed 
by  Dudley,  earl  of  Leicester,  stoutly  resisted  the  execution  of  the  ordi- 
nances,  and  Elizabeth   herself— overcome  by  the  arguments  of  her 
favourite— refused  to  sanction  them  for  a  time.     They  were  at  last 
published  under  the  name  of  *  advertisements ;'  and  he  then  proceeded  to 
enforce  them  with  a  zeal  which  procured  for  him  firom  one  party  the  name 
and  reproach  of  being  a  persecutor,  and  from  another  the  title  and  re- 
putation of  a  friend  and  supporter  of  the  church  of  England.     He  con- 
tinued to  struggle  with  the  difficulties  attending  his  office  and  the  spirit 
of  the  times,  until  his  Jlst  year.     He  died  on  the  1 7th  of  May,  1575. 
Parker's  learning  has  never  been  disputed.     His  extensive  liturgical 
reading  pointed  him  out  as  one  of  the  fittest  persons  for  drawing  up 
the  book  of  common  prayer,  in  which  he  accordingly  had  a  principal 
hand.     He  was  mainly  instrumental  in  procuring  the  publication  of 
'  the  Bishop's  Bible,'  as  it  was  called,  which  was  undertaken  and  car- 
ried on  under  his  direction  and  inspection.     He  edited  the  histories  of 
Matthew  of  Westminster,  and  Matthew  of  Paris,  and  various  other  his- 
torical works  which  are  enumerated  by  Tanner.     The  work  on  which 
he  is  generally  supposed  to  have  spent  most  of  his  time,  was  that  *  De 
antiquitate  Britannise  ecclesise.'     It  is  doubtful,  however,  what  share  he 
had  in  this  book :  probably  he  did  little  more  than  plan  it,  and  supply 
his  assistants  with  materials  from  his  own  valuable  collection  of  eccle- 
siastical antiquities.     The  original  work  is  exceedingly  rare,  but  a  very 
elegant  edition  of  it  was  published  by  Dr  Drake  in  1729.     He  had  the 
taste  and  spirit  of  an  antiquary,  and  was  very  useful  in  reviving  the 
study  of  the  Saxon  language,  from  which  he  executed  some  translations. 
Middleton  says  of  him :  "  he  was  pious,  sober,  temperate,  nK)dest  even 
to  a  fault,  being  upon  many  occasions  over-bash&l, — ^unmoveable  in 
the  distribution  of  justice, — a  great  patron  and  zealous  defender  of  the 
church  of  England,  in  which  he  acted  with  great  resolution,  it  being 
his  rule  ^  in  a  good  cause  to  fear  nobody.' " 

BORN  CIRC.  A.  D.  1500. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1581. 

The  patronage  of  Wolsey  first  brought  this  ecclesiastic  into  notice. 
He  was  bom  of  mean  parentage  at  Whaddon  in  Buckinghamshire ;  but 
having  been  sent  to  Eton  school,  was  elected  thence  to  King's  college, 
where  he  attracted  the  cardinal's  attention,  who  placed  him  on  his  new 
foundation  at  Oxford.  His  learning  commanded  tlie  esteem  of  the 
university ;  but,  having  spoken  rather  freely  in  favour  of  the  reformed 
doctrines,  he  was  glad  to  exchange  his  fellowship  for  the  mastership  of 
Eton  school.  The  interest  of  Cranmer  at  last  obtained  for  him  some 
dignified  appointments  in  the  church,  and  he  was  appointed  one  of 
Prince  Edward's  tutors.  In  this  latter  situation,  he  rose  rapidly  in  fe- 
Vour  at  court,  and  in  1547  was  elected  chancellor  of  Oxford.  It  is 
said  that,  as  one  of  the  commissioners  appointed  to  visit  and  report 
upon  the  state  of  the  universities,  he  infiicted  severe  injury  on  the 

Pjbmod.]  BERNARD  GILPIN.  197 

public  libraries  by  destroying  a  great  number  of  books  in  his  zeal 
against  popery  ;  but,  if  he  hurt  these  seminaries  of  learning  in  this  in- 
stance, he  amply  atoned  for  the  loss  inflicted  on  them  by  obtaining 
exemption  for  them  from  the  operation  of  several  acts  levelled  against 
the  property  of  kindred  institutions. 

On  Mary's  accession,  Cox  retired  with  other  exiles  to  Strasburg. 
From  this  place  he  proceeded  to  Frankfort,  where  he  got  involved  in  a 
violent  quarrel  with  some  of  his  countrymen,  who  had  shown  a  disposi- 
tion to  adopt  the  form  of  worship  instituted  by  the  reformers  of  Ge- 
neva. The  magistrates  of  that  city  supported  Cox,  who  had  the  satis- 
&ction  to  see  the  books  of  common  prayer  forced  upon  his  countrymen, 
and  his  principal  antagonist  among  the  refugees,  the  celebrated  John 
Knox,  driven  in  disgrace  from  the  city  on  a  charge  preferred  by  Cox 
of  having  libelled  the  emperor.  After  a  victory  so  little  honour- 
able to  himself.  Cox  returned  to  Strasburg,  where  he  employed  himself 
more  laudably  in  organising  a  kind  of  university  for  the  benefit  of  his 
countrymen  in  that  city. 

On  the  demise  of  Mary,  Cox  returned  to  England,  and  was  one  of 
those  divines  who  were  appointed  to  revise  the  liturgy ;  he  also  appear- 
ed on  the  protectant  side  in  the  great  disputation  held  at  Westminster 
between  eight  catholics  and  an  equal  number  of  the  reformed  clergy. 
His  well-tried  zeal  for  the  church  of  England,  his  learning,  his  abilities 
as  a  preacher,,  and  his  sufferings  for  the  faith,  recommended  him  to  the 
patronage  of  Elizabeth,  who  bestowed  on  him  the  bishopric  of  Ely* 
This  preferment  proved  a  fertile  source  of  uneasiness  to  him,  for  his 
high  notions  as  to  the  prerogatives  of  the  clergy,  and  his  strenuous  op- 
position to  whatever  savoured  in  the  remotest  degree  of  papistry,  even 
in  the  arrangements  of  the  queen's  private  chapel,  brought  him  into 
frequent  collision  with  the  rapacious  courtiers  of  Elizabeth,  and  involved 
his  old  age  in  a  series  of  troubles  and  contentions.  Wearied  out,  he 
at  last  consented  to  resign  his  bishopric,  upon  an  annual  pension  of 
£200 ;  but  the  court  found  it  impossible  to  prevail  on  any  respectable 
ecclesiastic  to  accept  of  the  see  during  the  lifetime  of  the  proper  in- 
cumbent ;  and  he  accordingly  retained  it  till  his  death,  which  happened 
in  1581.  Bishop  Cox  was  the  author  of  several  short  pieces.  He  had 
also  a  principal  hand  in  compiling  the  liturgy  of  the  church  of  England  ; 
and  when  the  new  translation  of  the  bible,  commonly  known  by  the 
name  of  <  the  Bishop's  Bible,'  was  made  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the 
four  Gospels,  the  Acts,  and  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  were  assigned  to 

BOaN  A.  D.  1517. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1583. 

This  excellent  man  was  born  at  Kentmire  in  Westmoreland  in  the 
year  1517.  He  studied  at  Queen's  college,  Oxford,  and  made  great 
proficiency  in  the  logic  and  philosophy  of  the  day,  in  so  much  that  he 
was  chosen,  while  yet  a  very  young  man,  to  oppose  the  introduction  of 
the  reformed  doctrines  into  the  university  by  disputing  with  Hooper 
and  Peter  Martyr  in  public.    For  this  task  he  was  better  qualified  than 


many  others,  having  paid  much  attention  to  the  Scriptare&  diemselves, 
and  poflMssing  a  critical  acquaintance  with  the  Hebrew  and  Greek 
ianguagea.  Bat  the  more  he  read  of  the  Scriptures,  the  less  confidence 
did  he  entertain  in  the  tenets  he  was  engaged  to  support.  This  state 
of  mind  greatly  indisposed  him  to  enter  the  lists  with  Peter  Martyr ; 
but  he  resolved  that  at  least  he  would  use  the  disputation  as  a  means 
of  fairly  testing  the  soundness  of  his  own  opinions.  Truth  was,  in- 
deed,  the  sole  object  of  his  pursuit,  and  in  this  respect  his  candour 
and  ingenuousness  furnish  a  striking  contrast  to  the  perverseness  and 
bigotry  of  most  of  the  other  impugners  of  the  new  doctrines.  Martyr 
himself  bears  ample  testimony  to  the  worth  of  his  young  opponent:  "  For 
my  other  hot-headed  adversaries,"  he  writes,  **  I  am  not  much  con- 
cerned for  them,  but  I  am  troubled  for  Gilpin,  for  he  speaks  and  acts 
with  a  singular  uprightness  of  heart"  A  diligent  study  of  the  contro- 
versy at  last  determined  him  to  withdraw  from  the  Romish  communion. 

Gilpin  continued  at  Oxford  till  the  year  1552,  when  be  was  present- 
ed by  Edward  VI.  with  the  vicarage  of  Norton  in  the  county  of  Dur- 
ham, and  also  obtained,  what  was  granted  only  to  a  few — a  general 
license  for  preaching  throughout  the  country.  Soon  after  entering  upon 
his  charge,  he  felt  himself  so  much  embarrassed  by  doctrinal  difficul- 
ties, that  he  resolved  to  seek  the  resolution  of  his  doubts  by  confer- 
ence with  the  most  eminent  foreign  divines,  both  catholic  and  protes- 
tant.  But  as  no  excuse  appeared  to  him  sufficient  to  justify  non  resi- 
dence in  his  parish,  he  resigned  his  living  to  a  friend  before  taking  his 
departure  for  the  continent.  His  maternal  uncle,  Tunstal,  bishop  of 
Durham,  viewed  his  act  of  resignation  as  a  piece  of  folly  and  impru- 
dence. Gilpin  excused  himself  by  remarking,  that  he  could  not  retain 
the  living  and  his  peace  of  conscience  too.  '^  Conscience  1"  rejoined 
the  bishop,  ^<  you  might  have  had  a  dispensation  I"  "  But  I  was  afraid," 
rejoined  Gilpin,  **  that  when  I  came  before  the  tribunal  of  Christ,  it 
would  not  serve  my  turn  to  plead  a  dispensation  for  not  having  done 
my  duty  to  my  flock." 

On  landing  in  Holland,  Gilpin  went  first  to  Mechlin,  where  his 
brother  George  then  was  pursuing  the  study  of  the  civil  law.  George 
was  at  this  time  a  zealous  catholic,  but  the  visit  of  Bernard  produced 
an  entire  revolution  in  his  opinions,  and  he  became  soon  ^erwards 
one  of  the  warmest  advocates  for  the  Reformation.  He  was  subse- 
quently much  employed  in  diplomatic  negotiation  during  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  and  was  highly  esteemed  both  for  abilities  and  integrity. 
On  the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  Bernard  was  offered  promotion  by 
his  relative,  Tunstal,  who  was  now  again  in  power,  but  he  respectfully 
declined  the  profiered  favour,  not  being  ^et  able  to  undertake  the  duties 
of  office  in  person.  After  an  absence  of  three  years,  he  returned  to 
his  native  country.  His  friends  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  this  step, 
for  the  Marian  persecution  still  raged ;  but  he  was  nothing  daunted  by 
their  representations,  and  fearlessly  pursued  what  appeared  to  him  the 
path  of  duty«  His  uncle  received  him  with  cordiality,  and  presented 
him  with  the  archdeaconry  of  Durham  and  rectory  of  Easington,  He 
entered  upon  his  charge  with  an  inflexible  determination  not  only  to 
do  his  duty  to  his  parishioners,  but  in  the  performance  of  his  arch* 
deaconal  functions,  to  omit  no  opportunity  of  bearing  testimony 
against   the    corrupt  principles  and  scandalous  lives  of  the  clergy. 


Such  conduct  sood  procured  for  him  the  dislike  and  opposition  of  the 
msyority  of  his  clerical  brethren,  who  pronounced  him  **  an  enemy  of 
the  church  and  clergy,  and  a  broacher  of  new  and  dangerous  doe* 
trines."  For  a  time  his  uncle's  influence  served  to  protect  him,  but  he 
was  at  last  obliged  to  yield  to  the  clamours  of  his  adversaries  and  re- 
sign his  archdeaconry.  He  would  have  icept  his  parochial  charge,  but 
his  uncle  refused  to  separate  the  two  livings ;  he,  however,  b^towed 
on  him  the  valuable  rectory  of  Hougfaton-le- Spring,  which  aitbrded 
him  a  sphere  of  action  exactly  suited  to  the  turn  of  his  mind.  It  was 
an  ext^isive  charge,  and  one  of  the  most  ignorant  districts  in  the 
whole  country.  Gilpin  applied  himself  with  his  usual  earnestness  and 
assiduity  to  his  new  task,  and  met  with  his  usual  reward :  the  people 
admired  and  loved  him,  while  the  priests  raised  a  clamour  of  heresy 
against  him.  He  was  in  a  short  time  cited  to  appear  before  Bonner, 
bishop  of  London,  but  the  death  of  Queen  Mary  put  a  stop  to  the 
proceedings  of  his  enemies,  and  gave  him  full  liberty  to  pursue  his 
benevolent  plans. 

At  the  recommendatiou  of  the  earl  of  Bedford,  he  was  now  nomi- 
nated to  the  bishopric  of  Carlisle,  but  he  declined  the  honour,  on  the 
ground  that  he  was  wholly  unequal  to  the  station.  The  earl  employed 
Dr  Sandys,  bishop  of  Worcester,  to  overcome  his  scruples,  but  without 
success.  In  the  fellow ing  year,  he  also  declined  the  provostship  of 
Queen's  college,  Oxford.  He  died  on  the  4th  of  March,  1583,  after  a 
life  spent  in  such  unwearied  efforts  of  benevolence  and  apostolic  cha- 
rity, as  to  gain  for  him  the  honourable  titles  of  *  Father  of  the  Poor/ 
and  *  Apostle  of  the  North.* 

BORN  A.  D.  1519. — DIED  A.D.  1583. 

Edmund  Grindal  was  bom  at  Heusingham,  in  Cumberland,  in 
1519,  and  was  sent  to  Magdalen  college,  whence  he  removed  to  Christ's 
college,  and  to  Pembroke-hall,  Cambridge,  where  he  was  chosen  fellow, 
and  took  his  degrees.  In  1548,  he  was  appointed  senior  proctor  to  the 
university,  and,  in  the  following  year,  he  was  chosen  Lady  Margaret's 
preacher.  He  became  acquainted  with  Dr  Aidley,  bishop  of  London, 
who  appointed  him.  his  chaplain,  and  elected  him  to  the  precentorship 
of  St  Paul's.  He  was  next  made  chaplain  to  King  Edward,  and,  in 
1552,  he  obtained  a  stall  at  Westminster  Abbey.  After  King  Edward's 
death  he  fled  to  the  continent,  and  remained  there  until  the  death  of 
Queen  Mary.  On  the  accession  of  Elisabeth,  he  returned  to  his  native 
land,  and  soon  obtained  the  notice  of  the  leading  friends  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. He  was  engaged  in  preparing  the  new  liturgy  which  was  to  be 
presented  to  the  queen's  first  parliament.  Not  long  after,  he  was  in- 
trusted with  the  appointment  of  one  of  the  commissioners  for  the  royal 
visitation  in  the  north,  who  were  directed  to  require  the  oath  of  supre- 
macy, to  inspect  cathedrals,  to  notice  the  manners  of  the  clergy,  and  to 
des^y  the  superstitions,  images,  &c. 

In  1562,  the  cruel  Bonner  was  deposed  from  the  bishopric  of  London, 
and  Grindal  was  nominated  to  fill  the  vacant  see.    He  was  then  ap- 


pointed  one  of  the  queen's  ecclesiastical  commissioners,  and  in  conjunc* 
tion  with  the  archbishops  of  Canterbury,  reformed  the  calendar,  and 
ordered  that  the  ten  commandments  should  be  set  up  at  the  east  end  of 
every  church  in  the  kingdom.  In  1564,  when  some  of  the  leading 
prelates  began  to  display  the  spirit  of  domination  over  conscience, 
Bishop  Grindal  was  oniered  by  the  queen  and  Archbishop  Parker,  to 
prosecute  all  those  who  would  not  comply  with  the  act  of  uniformity. 
He  obeyed  the  mandate,  but  with  so  much  gentleness  and  forbearance^ 
that  Archbishop  Parker  complained  of  htm  to  the  queen,  who  sent  him 
a  special  letter,  commanding  him  to  be  diligent  in  punishing  all  recu- 
sants.  In  1570,  he  was  translated  to  the  archbishopric  of  York,  a 
charge  which  he  found  exceedingly  burdensome.  On  the  death  of 
Archbishop  Parker,  he  was  advanced  to  the  see  of  Canterbury.  Happy 
would  it  have  been  for  the  established  church,  had  all  those  persons 
who  possessed  power  and  influence,  been  of  the  same  character  and 
governed  by  the  same  principles  as  our  archbishop.  He  was  deeply 
anxious  to  fill  the  episcopal  pulpits  with  men  of  piety  and  of  talent,  but 
the  '  head  of  the  church'  was  of  another  spirit,  and  was  more  solicit- 
ous that  her  mandate  should  be  implicitly  obeyed,  than  that  the  people 
should  enjoy  the  faithful  dispensation  of  the  gospel.  The  same  year  in 
which  he  entered  on  the  see  of  Canterbury,  he  held  a  convocation,  in 
which  some  articles  for  the  regulation  of  the  church  were  agreed  upon. 
Tiiey  were  entitled  *  Articles  touching  the  admission  of  apt  and  fit  per- 
sona to  the  ministry,  and  the  establishment  of  good  order  in  the 
churches.'  In  1576,  the  encouragement  he  gave  to  what  was  called, 
'  the  exercise  of  prophesying,'  displeased  the  queen.  It  appears  strange 
that  those  meetings  which  were  so  directly  intended  and  adapted  to 
promote  solid  knowledge  and  evangelical  preaching  among  his  clergy, 
and  consequently  the  truest  interest  of  the  laity,  should  have  brought 
upon  him  the  frowns  of  his  sovereign.  These  *  prophesyings,'  as  they  were 
called,  were  simply  meetings  of  the  clergy,  under  the  superintendence 
of  the  archbishop,  at  which,  each  in  his  turn  explained  some  portion  of 
scripture,  when  a  moderator  made  his  observations  on  what  had  been  said 
and  determined  its  true  sense.  The  queen,  however,  viewed  these  meetings 
as  seminaries  of  puritanism,  and  took  so  rooted  a  dislike  to  them,  that  she 
desired  their  entire  abolition,  and  gave  orders  to  that  efiect  to  Arch- 
bishop Grindal.  Instead,  however,  of  implicitly  obeying  her  majesty's 
commands,  which  he  felt  to  be  in  opposition  to  the  rights  of  conscience 
and  the  will  of  God,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  her,  in  which  he  remonstrated 
with  her,  and  exhorted  her  to  leave  religious  affairs  to  the  bishops  and 
divines  of  the  realm,  and  not  to  decide  on  them  in  the  same  peremptory 
manner  as  in  civil  affairs.  This  letter  highly  displeased  Elizabeth, 
who  knew  no  law  but  her  own  will,  and  afler  reiterating  her  commands, 
she  caused  an  order  to  be  sent  from  the  star-chamber  which  confined 
him  to  his  house,  and  sequestrated  him  from  his  office  for  six  months. 
The  honest  archbbhop  did  not  choose  to  comply,  and  on  an  application 
from  the  lord-treasurer,  his  sequestration  was  continued,  and  some 
thoughts  were  entertained  of  deposing  him.  This  project  was,  however, 
laid  aside ;  yet  the  sequestration  was  not  taken  off"  until  1582,  in  which 
year  he  lost  his  sight  and  resigned  his  dignity.  He  obtained  the  pro- 
mise of  a  pension  from  the  queen,  but  never  regained  her  favour.  He 
died  at  Croydon  in  1583.     He  was  a  man  far  in  advance  of  the  intoler- 

Pbwod.]  •         JOHN  FOX.  201 

ant  times  in  which  he  lived.  He  was  a  prelate  of  profound  learning, 
deep  piety  and  admirable  moderation ;  mild,  affable  and  generous, — he 
was  universally  admired,  respected,  and  beloved  by  all  his  protestant 
brethren.  He  assisted  the  French  protestants  in  obtainmg  permission 
to  open  a  church  in  London,  which  was  the  origin  of  the  present 
French  church  in  Threadneedle-street.  He  was  the  author  of  ^  A  Dia- 
logue between  Custom  and  Truth,'  publLshed  in  Fox's  Acts  and  Monu- 

BORN  A.  D.  1517. — DIED  A.  D.  1587. 

This  eminent  martyrologist  was  bom  of  respectable  parents  at  Boston 
lu  Lincolnshire,  in  1517,  that  memorable  year  in  which  Luther  com- 
menced his  attack  on  the  papacy.     His  father  died  when  he  was  young, 
and  his  mother  being  married  again,  his  early  education  was  intrusted 
to  his  father-in-law.     When  sixteen  years  old,  he  was  entered  at  Bra- 
zen-nose college,  Oxford,  and  at  the  early  age  of  21,  was  admitted 
to  the  degree  of  bachelor  of  arts.     His  talents  and  his  extraordinary 
acquirements,  the  fruit  of  unwearied  industry,  soon  recommended  him 
to  general  notice,  and  in  1543  he  became  M.  A.  and  was  elected  fellow 
of  Magdalen  college.     In  his  youth,  he  displayed  considerable  aptness 
for  poetry, — a  talent  which  he  exercised  in  the  composition  of  several 
Latin  plays,  founded  on  sacred  history.  The  one  which  attracted  the  most 
notice,  was  entitled,  ^  De  Christo  Triumphante,'  8vo.  published  in  Lon- 
don 1551,  and  at  Basil  1556.     It  was  afterwards  translated  by  Richard 
Day,  son  of  the  great  printer,  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  under  the  title 
of  *  Jesus  Christ  Triumphant ;  wherein  is  described  the  glorious  triumph 
and  conquest  of  Christ  over  sin,  death,  and  the  law,'  &c.     The  original 
work  has  been  much  admired  for  its  elegant  Latinity.     But  divinity  was 
the  great  object  to  which  Mr  Fox  directed  his  attention.     For  a  consi- 
derable period  after  entering  the   university,  he  remained  a  papist. 
This  was  partly  the  effect  of  ignorance,  partly  of  prejudice.     Neither 
ignorance  nor  prejudice,  however,  could  keep  him  long  from  the  truth. 
The  ardour  with  which  he  devoted  himself  to  theological  studies  cor- 
rected the  former,  and  his  candour  enabled  him  to  triumph  over  the 
latter.     The  diligence  with  which  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of 
every  branch  of  theology,  was,  indeed,  most  astonishing.     Of  this  his 
son,  who  wrote  his  life,  has  given  us  a  most  memorable  proof.     He  tells 
us  that  his  father,  before  he  was  thirty  years  of  age,  had  read  over  all 
the  Greek  and  Latin  fathers,  the  schoolmen,  and  the  proceedings  of 
councils  and  consistories.     Such  an  extensive  course  of  reading,  he 
thought  no  more  than  a  proper  preparation  for  forming  a  judgment  on 
the  controversies  which  then  agitated  the  church.     In  the  course  of  his 
studies,  he  became  completely  convinced  of  the  errors  of  the  Romish 
church ;  nor  did  he  stop  here, — ^the  same  honesty  and  candour  of  mind, 
and  the  same  unflinching  spirit  of  inquiry  which  had  reclaimed  him 
from  popery,  led  him  to  see  the  errors  of  the  English  church.     He  did 
not  escape  the  suspicious  eyes  of  his  bigotted  contemporaries.   As  he  was 
too  open  to  disavow  or  disguise  his  change  of  sentiments,  his  enemies 
11.  2  c 


•oon  luul  an  opportunity  of  satisfying  their  suspicions.  In  1545, 
accordingly^  a  cliarge  of  heresy  was  brought  against  him,  which  termi- 
nated in  his  being  convicted  of  tlie  crime,  and  in  his  expulsion  from  his 
bouse^^-a  very  gentle  commutation  of  punLthment,  as  it  was  generaliy 
thooghty  for  the  death  which  such  atrocious  guilt  undoubtedly  merited. 
Thus  a  mark  of  infiuny  was  set  upon  him ;  his  friends  forsook  hii]i>  not 
daring  to  hold  intercourse  with  a  heretic ;  and,  what  was  worse  than  all, 
his  &ther-in-law  basely  took  advantage  of  his  helpless  situation  to  de- 
prive him  of  his  patrimony.  He  was  thus  reduced  to  the  most  abject 
want,  but,  at  length,  obtained  a  situation,  however,  in  the  house  of  Sir 
Thomas  Lucy  of  Warwickshii  j,  as  the  tutor  of  his  children,  where  he  con- 
tinued till  his  pupils  grew  up.  It  was  during  his  stay  here  that  he  mar- 
ried the  daughter  of  a  citizen  of  Coventry.  The  house  of  his  wife's  father 
afforded  him  a  refuge  for  a  considerable  time  after  he  left  Sir  Thomas 
Lucy's.  He  then  came  to  London,  where  he  was  again  exposed  to  all 
the  hardships  of  the  most  cruel  poverty.  He  was,  at  length,  taken 
into  the  &mily  of  the  duchess  of  Richmond,  as  tutor  to  her  brother's 
children,  Henry  Howard,  earl  of  Surrey,  who  was  thrown  into  the 
Tower  by  the  despotic  Henry. 

In  this  family  living  at  Ryegate  in  Surrey,  he  remained  during  the  rest 
of  Henry's  reign,  the  few  years  of  Edward's  and  part  of  Mary's.    He  was 
nobly  protected  by  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  according  to  Wood,  was 
even  restored  to  his  fellowship  in    Magdalen  college.      The  hateful 
Gardiner,  however,  now  fixed  his  malignant  eye  upon  him  and  made 
every  effort  to  entrap  him.  The  bishop  was  particularly  intimate  with  the 
duke  of  Norfolk,  and  was  incessantly  asking  that  nobleman  to  intix>duce 
him  to  his  tutor.     This  request  was  as  constantly  evaded.     At  length 
when  the  duke  saw  that  his  protection  would  no  longer  be  of  any  avail, 
he  told  Fox  they  must  part,  at  the  same  time  furnishing  him  with  the 
means  of  transporting  himself  to  a  foreign  laud.     With  this  Fox  readily 
complied ;  but  as,  before  he  could  embark,  his  bloody  persecutor  had  a 
warrant  out  against  him,  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  accom- 
plished his  object.     At  length  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Nieuport  in 
Flanders  in  safety ;  thence  he  journeyed  to  Antwerp,  Strasburgh,  and 
Basil.     At  this  last  place  he  maintained  himself  by  correcting  the  press 
for  Oporinus,  the  celebrated  printer ;  and  there  too  he  meditated  his 
great  work — the  ^  Acts  and  Monuments  of  the  churches.'     During  his 
exile,  he  united  himself  with  those  fellow-sufferers,  who,  renouncing  the 
service-book  of  King  Edward,  had  adopted  the  peculiarities  of  the 
school  of  Geneva. 

At  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  consequent  restoration  of  the 
protestant  religion,  Fox  returned  to  England,  where  he  was  heartily 
welcomed  by  his  former  pupil — ^now  fourth  duke  of  Norfolk — ^from  whom 
he  received  a  pension.  The  secretary,  Cecil,  also,  obtained  for  him  a 
prebend  in  the  church  of  Salisbury.  He  had  many  powerful  friends, 
as  the  names  of  Grindal,  Walsingham,  Drake,  Gresham,  abundantly 
prove ;  and  if  he  would  have  dropped  his  Geneva  peculiarities,  there 
was  no  preferment  which  he  might  not  have  hoped  for.  But  he  was 
one  of  the  few  who  will  not  pay  the  price  of  conscience  for  honours  and 
emoluments,  however  splendid.  Of  this  we  have  two  or  three  striking 
uistances.  When  Archbishop  Parker  summoned  him  to  subscribe,  the 
venerable  man  took  out  a  Greek  Testament  and  said,  '^  To  this  will  I 

PjfiRioD.]  JOHN  FOX.  203 

subscribe.*'  When  told  he  must  subscribe  to  the  canons,  he  refused, 
saying,  <*  I  have  nothing  but  a  prebend  at  Salisbury,  and  if  you  like  to 
take  it  away,  much  good  may  it  do  you/'  As  the  greater  part  of  the 
bishops  had  been  his  fellow-exiles,  and  had  been  taught  moderation  by 
suffering,  they  no  longer  molested  him.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  con- 
ducted himself  with  much  prudence  and  circumspection,  openly  condem- 
ning the  violence  of  some  of  the  more  zealous  puritans.  In  1575,  he 
addressed  to  the  queen  hb  memorable  memorial  on  behalf  of  the  Ger- 
man anabaptists,  who  had  refused  to  join  either  the  Dutch  or  English 
church,  and  the  cruel  persecution  of  whom  is  one  of  the  darkest  blots 
on  the  history  of  protestantism.  Fox's  petition  was  rejected — but  it 
did  bim  infinite  honour. 

Though  Mr  Fox  held  nothing  in  the  church  but  the  prebend,  of 
which  we  have  already  made  mention,  he  took  every  opportunity  of 
preaching  and  doing  good.  His  vast  learning,  sincere  piety  and 
humility,  commended  him  to  universal  esteem.  He  died  in  1587,  in 
the  seventieth  year  of  his  age. 

Of  the  numerous  works  which  Mr  Fox  published,  by  far  the  greater 
part  were  on  controversial  theology  or  ecclesiastical  history.  The 
work,  however,  on  which  his  fame  rests,  is  his  '  History  of  the  Aets  and 
Monuments  of  the  Church,'  commonly  called,  the  '  Book  of  Martyrs,' 
and  on  the  composition  of  this  work  he  spent  many  years  of  unwearied 
labour.  Whitgiil  says,  that  Mr  Fox  'laboured  very  diligently  and 
&ithf\illy  in  this  matter,  and  searched  out  the  truth  of  it  as  learnedly  as 
any  man  has  done."  In  the  compilation  of  this  work,  Mr  Fox  was 
furnished  with  every  facility  by  Grindal  and  many  other  influential 
friends.  It  was  first  published  in  one  volume  folio,  1563,  and  so  eagerly 
was  it  read,  that  in  1583  a  fourth  edition  was  required. 

The  protestants,  of  course,  valued  this  work  highly ;  while  the  papists 
did  all  they  could  to  depreciate  its  merits  and  to  check  its  circulation. 
They  called  it  the  *  Golden  Legend,'  and  represented  it  as  a  tissue  of 
lies  and  slander.  This  was  natural  in  catholics^  but  there  have  also 
been  professed  protestants,  who  have  endeavoured  to  discredit  it. 
Collier,  in  his  ecclesiastical  history,  has  accused  our  martyrologist  of 
bigotry,  disingenuousness,  and  using  violent  language.  That  his  lan- 
guage is  here  and  there  coarse  and  bitter,  is  only  saying  that  Fox  was 
not  entirely  free  from  the  faults  which  characterized  all  the  controvert 
sialists  of  the  age ;  and  to  say  that  there  are  mistakes  in  the  work,  is 
saying  no  more  than  that  its  author  was  fallible.  In  a  work  of  such 
extent,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  some  errors;  at  the  same  time,  there  is 
not  tlie  slightest  proof  that  Fox  designedly  misrepresented  facts,  while 
there  is  every  proof  that  he  consulted  with  prodigious  labour  every 
accessible  authority  and  used  his  materials  in  the  greatest  &imess. 
The  praise  of  such  competent  judges  as  Burnett  and  Strype,  is  enough 
to  establish  his  character  for  accuracy  and  impartiality;  and  that  has 
been  most  abundantly  bestowed.  '*  Mr  Fox,"  says  Strype,  ^*  must  not 
go  without  the  commendation  of  a  most  painful  searcher  into  records, 
archive  and  repositories  of  oiiginal  acts  and  letters  of  state,  and  a 
great  coUector  of  MSS.  And  the  world  is  infinitely  beholden  to 
him  for  abundance  of  extracts  thence,  communicated  to  us  in  his 
volumes.  And  as  he  hath  been  found  most  diligent,  so  most  strictly 
true  and  faithful  in  his  transcriptions." 


Carliinal  ^Urti. 

BORN  A.  D.   1532. — DIED  A.  O.  1594. 

William  Allen,  cardinal  priest  of  the  Roman  church,  was  bom 
at  Rossal  in  Lancashire,  in  the  year  1532.  Hb  father,  John  Allen^ 
was  a  gentleman  of  good  family  and  some  fortune,  by  whom  his  educa- 
tion was  carried  on  till  he  reached  his  fifteenth  year,  when  he  sent  him 
to  Oxford,  where,  in  1547,  he  was  entered  of  Oriel  college,  and  had 
Morgan  Philip,  or  Philip  Morgan,  for  his  tutor.  Under  him  he  stud- 
ied with  great  success,  especially  addicting  himself  to  logic  and  phi- 
losophy, in  which  he  became  so  great  a  proficient,  that  he  was  unani- 
mously chosen  fellow  of  his  college,  and  took  the  degiiee  of  bachelor 
of  arts  in  1550,  being  esteemed  an  honour  to  the  university  on  ac- 
count of  his  great  parts,  learning,  and  eloquence.  In  1556,  he  be- 
came principal  of  St  Mary's  hall,  and  in  that  and  the  following  year, 
one  of  the  proctors  of  the  university,  being  then  only  twenty-four  years 
of  age.  In  1558,  he  was  made  one  of  the  canons  of  York,  but,  on 
Queen  Elizabeth's  accession,  he,  as  a  zealous  catholic,  lost  all  hopes 
of  preferment,  and,  therefore,  in  1560,  withdrew  to  Lou  vain  in  the 
Spanish  Netherlands,  where  an  English  college  was  erected,  of  which 
he  became  the  principal  support  At  this  time,  several  persons  of 
great  learning,  and  some  of  the  boldest  champions  of  the  popish  cause, 
resided  in  this  place,  with  whom  he  quickly  grew  into  great  esteem, 
by  the  strength  of  his  genius  and  the  politeness  of  his  manners.  The 
grace^lness  of  his  person,  it  is  said,  contributed  much  to  obtain  the 
attention  of  his  associates,  for  with  a  majestic  presence,  he  had  an 
easy,  affable  deportment,  and  with  the  greatest  severity  of  manners,  a 
mildness  of  speech  and  behaviour  which  won  the  affection  of  all  who 
conversed  with  him.  Here  he  began  to  write  in  support  of  the  catho- 
lic cause,  and  his  first  piece  was  against  a  work  written  by  the  learned 
Bishop  Jewel,  on  the  subject  of  *  Purgatory,  and  Prayers  for  the  Dead.' 
The  chiefs  of  the  party  abroad  conceived  the  greatest  hopes  of  this 
new  disputant ;  and  as  a  mark  of  their  confidence,  put  under  his  care 
a  young  man  of  an  honourable  family,  who  was  come  to  study  at 

The  care  he  took  of  this  young  pupil,  and  his  application  to  his 
other  studies,  so  far  undermined  his  health,  that  his  physicians  were  of 
opinion  that  nothing  could  restore  him  but  his  native  air.  On  this  ac- 
count^ he  ventured  into  England  in  1565,  and  went  at  first,  as  advised 
by  his  doctors,  into  Lancashire,  where  he  was  bom.  There,  without 
any  regard  to  his  personal  safety,  he  laboured,  to  the  utmost  of  his 
power,  in  making  converts,  and  in  dissuading  such  as  were  already 
catholics  from  going  to  heretical  conventicles,  that  is,  to  the  established 
churches.  He  wrote  and  distributed  several  little  pieces,  which  were 
afterwards  printed,  and  by  so  doing,  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  the 
government.  Strict  search  was  made  after  him  by  the  magistrates,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  conceal  himself  sometime  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  city  of  Oxford.  In  this  retreat,  he  wrote  an  apology  for  his  party, 
under  the  title  of '  Brief  Reasons  concerning  the  Catholic  Faith.'  Some 
say  this  was  written  at  the  house  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  where,  in  Norfolk, 

Pkmod.]  cardinal  ALLEN.  205 

it  is  certain,  our  author  was  some  time  concealed,  though  he  returned 
afterwards  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Oxford  again,  where  he  distributed 
his  work,  to  fix  the  minds  of  such  as  wavered  between  the  two  reli* 
gions,  and  to  draw  oyer  such  as  already  doubted  their  safety  while 
remaining  in  the  established  church.     Such  success  attended  his  en- 
deavours, that  he  chose  to  remain  in  this  dangerous  situation,  promot- 
^^S^  ^7  every  means  in  his  power,  the  doctrine  of  popery,  and  the  spirit- 
ual jurisdiction  of  his  holiness,  and  such  as  derived  their  authority  from 
him.     He  even  ventured  to  open  a  correspondence  with  some  of  his  old 
friends  in  the  university,  and  amongst  the  rest,  with  one  who  had  for- 
merly been  a  catholic,  but  had  since  conformed  to  the  established 
church,  and  whose  friends  entertained  great  hopes  of  his  preferment. 
This  person  he  drew  back  to  his  former  opinions,  which  so  exasperated 
his  relations,  that  they  persecuted  Allen  with  so  much  diligence,  that 
be  was  forced  to  fly  towards  London,  and  with  much  difficulty  made 
his  escape  to  Flanders  in  1568,  after  remaining  in  England  three  years. 
Id  all  probability  he  had  some  powerful  friends  here,  amongst  whom 
may  be  reckoned  Sir  Christopher  Hatton,  afterwards  chancellor,  who 
received  part  of  his  cdtlcation  at  St  Mary's  hall,  Oxford,  while  Allen 
was  principal.     On  this  account.  Sir  Christopher  had  a  great  tender- 
ness fi)r  Allen*s  person.     Afler  his  return  to  the  continent,  he  went  to 
Mechlin,  in  the  duchy  of  Brabant,  where  he  read  a  divinity  lecture  in 
a  certain  monastery  there,  with  great  applause.     Thence  he  went  to 
Douay,  where  he  become  doctor  of  divinity,  and  laboured  very  assid- 
uously in  establishing  a  seminary  for  English  scholars.     While  thus 
employed,  he  became  canon  of  Cambray, — a  very  considerable  and 
honourable  preferment,  conferred  on  him  purely  to  reward  his  zeal  in 
the  service  of  the  catholic  church.     In  this  seminary  of  Douay,  many 
books  were  composed  to  justify  the  popish  religion,  and  to  answer  works 
written  in  defence  of  the  church  of  England,  which  occasioned  Queen 
Elizabeth  to  issue  a  proclamation,  forbidding  such  books  to  be  sold  or 
read.     In  1569,  our  author  appointed  one  Bristow,  moderator  of  stud- 
ies at  Douay.     It  is  probable  that  this  was  the  person  he  drew  over  to 
his  opinions  when  in  England.     Not  long  after,  Dr  Allen  was  appointed 
canon  of  Rheims,  through  the  interest  of  the  Guises,  and  to  that  city 
he  removed  the  seminary  which  had  been  settled  at  Douay.  The  reason 
of  this  was,  that  the  then  governor  of  the  Netherlands,  Don  Lewis  de 
Requesens,  had  obliged  the  English  fugitives  to  withdraw  out  of  his 
government.     Henceforward,  Dr  Allen  was  considered   the  chief  oi 
the  party,  and  in  England  was  justly  reputed  a  capital  enemy  to  the 
state ;  all  correspondence  with  him  was  looked  upon  as  the  highest  kind 
of  treason,  and  _ Thomas  Alfield,  a  Jesuit,  was  actually  executed  for 
bringing  some  of  his  books  into  England.     The  celebrated  Robert 
Parsons,  the  Jesuit,  was  Dr  Allen's  great  friend  and  counsellor,  and 
probably  put  him  on  that  great  project,  which,  had  it  succeeded,  would 
have  overwhelmed  the  English,  and  which,  as  it  miscarried,  greatly 
weakened  the  Spanish  monarchy.     Dr  Allen  and  the  fugitive  noble- 
men from  England,  persuaded  King  Philip  to  undertake  the  conquest 
of  their  native  country.     To  facilitate  this  project,  the  pope,  Sextus 
v.,  was  prevailed  on  to  renew  the  excommunication  thundered  against 
Queen  Elizabeth  by  his  predecessor,  Pius  V. 

Dr  Allen  wrote  in  defence  of  this  base  proceeding,  and  to  give 


greater  weight  to  his  writings,  was  created  cardinal,  by  the  title  of 
St  Martin  in  Montibus,  and  soon  after,  the  king  of  Spain  gave  him  an 
abbey  of  great  value  in  the  l^ingdom  of  Naples,  with  strong  assu- 
rances of  greater  preferment  In  1588,  he  composed  that  work,  which 
rendered  him  most  famous  abroad,  and  infamous  at  home.  It  consisted 
of  two  parts ;  the  first  explaining  the  pope's  bull,  for  the  excommuni- 
cation and  deprivation  of  Queen  Elizabeth, — ^the  second  exhorting  the 
nobility  and  people  of  England  to  desert  her,  and  t^e  up  arms  in  fa- 
vour of  the  Spaniards.  Many  thousand  copies  were  printed  at  Ant- 
werp, in  order  to  have  been  put  on  board  the  Armada,  that  they  might 
be  dispersed  by  the  papists  all  over  England,  upon  the  first  landing  of 
the  Spaniards.  On  the  failure  of  this  expedition,  these  books  were  so 
carefully  destroyed,  that  very  few  remained.  A  copy  of  this  work,  as 
soon  as  it  was  printed,  was  transmitted  by  some  of  the  lord-trea- 
surer's spies  to  the  English  council,  and  the  queen  in  consequence  sent 
Dr  Dale  into  the  Low  Countries  to  complain  of  such  proceedings  to 
the  prince  of  Parma,  who  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of  such  books.  In 
the  same  year  the  king  of  Spain  promoted  our  author  to  the  archbishop^ 
ric  of  Mechlin  in  Flanders,  where  he  would  have  had  him  constantly 
resident ;  but  the  pope  having  a  high  opinion  of  the  cardinal's  merit, 
and  finding  him  of  great  use  in  consistories,  would  not  suffer  him  to 
leave  Rome.  The  remainder  of  his  life  he  spent  at  Rome  in  great 
honour  and  reputation,  living  in  much  splendour,  and  using  all  his  in- 
fluence for  the  comfort  and  maintenance  of  such  catholics  as  fled  from 
England.  In  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  is  said  to  have  changed  his  \ 
sentiments  as  to  government,  and  to  have  been  heartily  sorry  for  the  I 
pains  he  had  taken  to  promote  the  invasion  of  England  by  the  Span- 
iards. He  is  generally  said  to  have  died  of  a  retention  of  urine,  but 
it  was  strongly  suspected  that  he  was  poisoned  by  the  Jesuits.  His 
death  took  place  on  the  6th  of  October,  1594,  in  the  sixty-third  year 
of  his  age.  He  was  buried  with  great  pomp  in  the  chapel  of  the  Eng- 
lish college  at  Rome,  where  a  monument  was  erected  to  his  memory. 

In  drawing  the  character  of  such  a  man,  his  admirers  of  the  catholic 
profession  are  unbounded  in  their  applauses  of  his  zeal,  his  courage,  his 
learning,  his  sacrifices,  his  consistency;  on  the  other  hand,  with  those  who 
regard  him  as  a  vindictive  and  rebellious  subject,  and  as  a  bigoted  and- 
cruel  papist,  who  was  deeply  engaged  in  planning  the  invincible  Ar- 
mada, by  which  the  rightful  sovereign  was  to  be  dethroned,  and  the  peo- 
ple of  England  subjected  to  the  papal  yoke,  and  by  every  instrument 
of  torture,  to  be  forced  into  an  allegiance  to  King  Philip  or  his  holi- 
ness,— no  terms  seem  too  strong  to  express  their  abhorrence  of  his 
treason,  and  their  detestation  of  his  bigotry.  How  far  he  was  influ- 
enced by  his  conscience,  however  deluded  that  conscience  might  have 
been,  the  day  which  shall  reveal  all  secrets  will  determine.  His  zeal 
and  activity  in  what  as  protestants  we  are  bound  to  consider  a  bad 
cause,  may  however  chide  the  lukewarmness  and  indolence  of  too  many 
who  despise  the  cardinal's  religion,  but  appear  to  have  far  less  estima- 
tion for  their  own,  than  he  manifested  for  his. 

Pebiod.]  bishop  ATLMEB.  207 

BORN  A.  D.  1521. — ^DIBD  A.  D.  1594w 

John  Aylmer,  or»  as  he  wrote  it,  CElmer,  was  descended  from 
a  very  ancient  family,  seated  at  Aylmer  Hall,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk. 
He  was  bom  some  time  in  the  year  1521,  and,  by  his  great  aptitude 
for  learning,  recommended  himself  early  to  Henry  Grey,  marquess  of 
Dorset,  afterwards  duke  of  Suffolk,  who  called  him  his  scholar,  and 
gave  him  an  exhibition  at  the  university  of  Cambridge.  After  he  had 
there  attained  a  competent  provision  of  university  learning,  the  mar- 
quess took  him  into  his  own  house,  where  he  became  tutor  to  his  child- 
ren. Lady  Jane,  who,  for  a  few  days,  was  styled  queen,  was  one  of  his 
Dupils.  From  her  tutor  she  received  right  principles  of  religion.  Mr 
Aylmer  went  early  into  the  opinions  of  the  reformers,  and  having  the 
duke  of  Suffolk  and  the  earl  of  Huntingdon  for  his  patrons,  he  was,  for 
some  time,  the  only  preacher  in  Leicestershire,  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
VI.  There  he  effectually  fixed  the  protestant  religion.  His  first  pre- 
ferment was  the  archdeaconry  of  Stow,  in  the  diocese  of  Lincoln.  This 
gave  him  a  seat  in  the  convocation  held  in  the  first  year  of  Queen 
Mary,  when  he  boldly  opposed  that  return  to  popery  to  which  the  body 
of  the  clergy  seemed  inclined.  He  was  one  of  the  six  who  offered  to 
dispute  all  the  controverted  points  in  religion  against  the  most  famous 
champions  of  the  papists.  When  the  supreme  power  began  to  use 
force  instead  of  argument,  the  archdeacon  made  his  escape  beyond  the 
sea.  At  first  he  resided  at  Strasburg,  and  afterwards  at  Zurich  in 
Switzerland.  His  escape  was  almost  miraculous,  as  the  ship  in  which 
he  was  embarked  was  searched  by  the  officers  of  the  queen.  During 
his  exile,  he  diligently  pursued  his  studies,  and  employed  all  his  time  in 
acquiring  or  communicating  knowledge.  About  this  time  he  wrote  an 
answer  to  Knox's  book  against  the  government  of  women.  After  the 
accession  of  Elizabeth,  he  returned  home,  and  was  one  of  the  eight 
divines  appointed  to  dispute  with  as  many  popish  bishops  at  Westmin- 
ster. A.  D.  1562,  he  obtained  the  archdeaconry  of  Lincoln,  by  the 
favour  of  Mr  Secretary  Cecil.  This  dignity  gave  him  the  right  to  sit  in 
the  famous  synod  held  the  same  year,  wherein  the  doctrine  and  disci- 
pline of  the  church,  and  its  reformation  from  the  abuses  of  popery,  were 
careftilly  examined  and  settled.  He  was  also  appointed  a  justice  of  the 
peace,  and  an  ecclesiastical  commissioner.  He  obtained  the  degrees  of 
I>achelor  and  doctor  in  divinity  in  the  university  of  Oxford,  in  October, 
1573.  In  1576,  on  the  promotion  of  Dr  Sandys  to  the  archbishopric 
of  York,  Dr  Aylmer  was  made  bishop  of  London.  His  accession  to 
this  dignity  was  greatly  fuithered  by  his  predecessor,  who  was  his 
mtimate  friend,  and  had  been  his-  companion  in  exile.  The  conduct 
of  Bishop  Aylmer  to  this  archbishop,  after  his  promotion,  was  not  very 
creditable  to  himself,  for,  although  his  Grace  assisted  at  his  consecra- 
tion on  the  24th  March,  1576,  immediately  after  his  promotion.  Bishop 
Aylmer  sued  him  for  dilapidations,  which,  after  some  years*  prosecu* 
tion,  he  recovered.  On  the  15th  of  December,  our  bishop  began  his 
first  visitation,  and  the  high  church  writers  are  very  liberal  in  their 


praises  of  the  rigour  of  his  proceedings  towards  those  miDlsters  who  had 
too  much  conscience  to  subscribe.  He  appeared,  indeed,  to  have  for- 
gotten tliat  he  was  himself  at  one  time  an  exile  for  conscience  sake* 
lie  was,  say  his  admirers,  extremely  assiduous  in  public  preaching, 
and  very  careful  in  examining  the  candidates  for  ordination,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  he  kept  a  strict  eye  over  all  dissenters,  as  well  as  papists 
and  puritans.  The  zeal  of  the  bishop  for  the  church  as  by  law  estab- 
lished, led  him  to  some  measures  which  exposed  him  to  tlie  charge  of 
being  a  persecutor.  He  kept  a  straiter  rein  over  the  puritans  than 
over  the  papists  ;  imprisoned  a  printer,  named  Woodcock,  for  vending 
a  treatise,  entitled,  '  An  Admonition  to  Parliament ;'  and  procured  a  gen- 
tleman in  Berkshire,  named  Welden,  to  be  committed  by  the  ecclesias- 
tical commissioners.  These  proceedings  roused  the  puritans,  who 
treated  him  as  an  enemy  to  true  religion.  The  bishop  was  resolved  to 
keep  the  clergy  of  his  diocese  in  due  subordination  to  episcopal  author- 
ity. On  Sunday,  the  27  th  of  September,  1579,  they  were  summoned 
to  his  palace  at  one  o'clock,  and  forty  appeared,  the  dean  was  also 
present — when  the  bishop  cautioned  them  of  two  things, — ^not  to  med- 
dle with  the  Ubiquitarian  controversy,  nor  with  Stubb's  book,  entitled, 
*  The  Discovery  of  a  Gaping  Gulph,'  wherein  the  queen's  marriage 
with  the  French  king's  brother  was  written  against,  and  hj  which  it 
was  suggested  the  queen  wavered  in  her  religion.  In  1581,  the  bishop 
had  to  contend  with  the  Lord  Rich  who  kept  a  puritan  minister  in  his 
house,  named  Wright,  whom  he  would  have  compelled  the  bishop  to 
license  to  preach  in  his  diocese.  The  bishop  had  <  the  powers  that  be ' 
on  his  side,  in  this  struggle,  and  Wright  was  committed  to  the  Fleet 
by  the  ecclesiastical  commissioners.  In  1583,  he  performed  his  trien- 
nial visitation,  when  he  represented  to  the  privy  council  many  scandal- 
ous corruptions  which  he  discovered  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts.  About 
this  time,  he  suspended  certain  ministers  who  were  accused  of  noncon- 
formity ;  and  it  appears  that,  after  thorough  examination  of  the  matter, 
his  lordship  restored  Mr  Gifford,  whom  he  had  twice  suspended,  when 
those  who  brought  the  charges  against  him  could  not  substantiate 
them.  In  1584,  he  obtained  judgment  against  Archbishop  Sandys, 
for  a  thousand  pounds.  In  this  year,  also,  he  committed  to  prison  Mr 
Thomas  Cartwright,  the  famous  puritan  minister,  who  had  written 
warmly  against  the  hierarchy.  In  1587,  the  bishop  had  much  trouble 
on  account  of  a  school-master,  named  Robert  Cawdry,  whom  the  Lord 
Burleigh  had  presented  to  the  living  of  South  Lufierton  in  Rutland- 
shire, where,  after  preaching  sixteen  years,  he  was  convened  before  the 
ecclesiastical  commission,  the  bishop  sitting  as  judge,  and  by  whom  he 
was  at  length  deprived.  Cawdry  would  not  submit  to  the  sentence, 
upon  which  the  matter  was  re-examined  by  the  ecclesiastical  commis- 
sion, at  Lambeth,  by  whom  degradation  was  added  to  the  former  sen- 
tence. Cawdry  still  refused  to  submit  to  the  sentence,  and  made 
fresh  representations  to  Lord  Burleigh,  who  favoured  him  as  much  as 
with  justice  he  could ;  but,  after  a  contest  of  iive  years,  no  redress 
could  be  obtained :  the  sentences  of  the  bishop  and  archbishop  being 
supported  both  by  the  civil  and  common  lawyers.  In  1591,  he  caused 
the  famous  and  learned  Mr  Cartwright  to  be  brought  before  him  out  of 
the  Fleet,  and  expostulated  with  him  in  not  very  courteous  language, 
on  the  disturbance  he  had  occasioned  to  tlie  church.     The  bishop  was 


now  getting  old  and  infirm,  and  was  much  disappointed  in  not  obtain- 
ing tlie  favour  he  strongly  solicited  on  behalf  of  Dr  BuUingham,  Dr 
Cole,  and  Dr  Bancroft,  whom  he  wished  to  see  preferred  to  bbhoprics. 
It  was  his  particular  wish  that  Bancroft  should  succeed  him,  and,  in- 
deed, he  solicited  leave  to  resign  his  diocese  to  him.  In  1592,  the 
bishop  assisted  at  the  visitation  of  his  son,  as  archdeacon  of  London, 
and  exerted  himself  with  as  much  zeal  and  spirit  as  he  had  ever  mani- 
fested in  his  younger  days.  This  is  the  last  public  act  of  the  bishop*  a 
which  we  can  trace;  and,  in  1594,  he  died,  being  seventy-three  yearj 
of  age. 

The  bishop  had  a  numerous  family :  viz.  seven  sons  and  two  or 
three  daughters.  As  to  his  personal  qualities,  the  voice  of  his  friends 
or  his  enemies  will  bear  a  testimony  in  perfect  contrast.  He  was  well 
versed  in  the  three  learned  languages,  and  was  a  good  logician  ;  was 
deeply  read  in  history,  and  well  skilled  in  civil  law.  His  religion  ap- 
peared to  greatest  advantage  while  he  was  a  sufferer  for  conscience 
sake.  When  the  sunshine  of  royal  favour,  and  the  good  things  of  a  na- 
tional establishment  were  enjoyed  by  him,  he  was  too  much  lifted  up 
with  pride,  and  discovered  a  degree  of  passion,  intolerance,  and  oppres- 
sion, which  must  excite  a  blush  for  human  nature.  The  bishop  be- 
queathed large  legacies  to  his  children,  and  also  some  to  his  grand- 
children. The  early  part  of  his  life  seemed  to  give  promise  of  a  bright- 
er character  than  his  concluding  years  displayed.  The  champion  of 
protestant  principles  and  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  dwindled  down 
into  the  abettor  of  arbitrary  measures,  and  the  factious  oppressor  of  his 
fellow-christians,  setting  the  dictum  of  an  earthly  sovereign  above  the 
authoritative  oracles  of  God. 

BORN  A.  D.  1530. — DIED  A.  D.  1595. 

John  Whitgift,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  the  reigns  of  Eliza- 
beth and  James  I.,  was  of  the  family  of  the  Whitgifts  of  Yorkshire,  which 
boasted  of  considerable  antiquity.  His  father,  Henry,  was  a  merchant  of 
Great  Grimsby  in  Lincolnshire.  His  uncle  Robert,  was  Abbot  de  Wei- 
low,  near  Grimsby, — a  monastery  of  Black  canons.  He  was  one  among 
the  many,  who,  just  before  the  Reformation,  began  to  see  the  enormous 
corruptions  of  the  Romish  church,  and  to  anticipate  the  changes  that 
were  soon  to  take  place.  '*  The  religion  we  profess,*'  said  he  to  Sie  sub" 
ject  of  this  memoir,  <*  cannot  long  continue ;  I  have  read  the  whole  scrip- 
ture through ;  but  never  found  it  sanctioned  there."  To  this  man — ^so 
much  before  the  generality  of  his  contemporaries — the  education  of 
Whitgift  was  intrusted. 

The  year  of  Whitgift's  birth  cannot  be  exactly  ascertained.  Strype 
and  Paul  fix  it  in  1530;  Francis  Thynne  in  1533.  The  place  of  his 
birth  all  agree  was  Great  Grimsby.  When  quite  young,  he  was  sent  to 
St  Anthony's  school,  in  London.  He  lodged  in  St  Paul's  church-yard 
at  his  aunt's,  the  wife  of  a  verger  of  that  church.  Here  our  young 
scholar  displayed  an  unequivocal  preference  for  the  doctrines  of  the  Re- 
formation.   This  provoked  his  aunt,  who  was  a  most  zealous  catholic. 

II.  2  D 


Afler  bearing  with  his  heresies  for  some  time»  and  making  some  ineffec- 
tual attempts  to  correct  them,  she  dismissed  him,  affectionately  assuring 
bim  at  parting,  that  **  she  thought,  at  first,  her  lodger  was  a  saint, — ^but 
•he  now  perceived  he  was  a  devil." 

On  his  return  home,  his  uncle  advised  that  he  should  be  sent  to  the 
university.  In  1548,  therefore,  he  was  entered  of  Queen's  college, 
Cambridge ;  but  soon  exchanged  for  Pembroke-hall.  Here  he  enjoyed 
tlie  instructions  of  the  celebrated  John  Bradford,  the  martyr.  At  his 
recommendation  and  that  of  Mr  Grindal,  afterward  archbishop  of  Can- 
tt*rbury,  Whitgift  became  scholar  of  that  town  and  Bible-clerk.  In 
1553-4,  Whitgift  took  his  degree  of  bachelor  of  arts.  Another  year 
saw  him  elected  fellow  of  Peter-house ;  and  in  1557,  he  commenced 
master  of  arts.  About  this  time,  Cardinal  Pole  visited  the  university, 
to  make  search  for  heretics,  and  to  expel  them.  Whitgiflt,  at  first, 
thought  of  doing  what  so  many  of  his  countrymen  were  compelled  to 
do  both  then  and  afterwards — -seeking  safety  by  self-banishment.  At 
the  solicitation  of  Dr  Perne,  however,  a  professed  papist — ^who  pledged 
himself  for  his  safety,  he  ventured  to  remain.  To  the  honour  of 
Dr  Perne — ^that  pledge  was  fully  redeemed.  In  1560,  Whitgift 
entered  into  holy  orders,  and  his  first  sermon  at  St  Mary*s  was  heard 
with  much  approbation.  A  few  months  afler  this,  he  became  chaplain 
to  the  bishop  of  Ely,  who  gave  him  the  rectory  of  Feversham  in  Cam* 
bridgeshire.  In  1563,  he  became  bachelor  of  divinity,  and  succeeded 
Matthew  Hutton,  as  Lady  Margaret's  professor  of  divinity.  The  lec- 
tures he  delivered  in  this  character,  he  prepared  for  the  press ;  but  for 
some  unknown  cause  they  were  never  published.  Strype  tells  us,  that 
he  had  seen  the  MSS.  It  was  while  thus  engaged,  that  Whitgiflb  joined 
the  other  professors  in  a  petition  to  Sir  W.  Cecil  for  certain  fresh 
regulations  in  reference  to  the  election  of  the  public  officers  of  the  uni- 
versity, the  want  of  which  had  been  much  felt. 

Not  long  after  this,  his  fame  as  a  preacher  became  so  great,  that  Sir 
Nicholas  Bacon,  Lord  Napier,  sent  for  him  to  preach  before  the  court 
This  ended  in  his  becoming  chaplain  to  the  queen.  Learning,  in  1565, 
that  some  statutes  enjoining  uniformity  of  habits  at  the  university,  were 
about  to  be  passed,  he  joined  with  others  in  writing  to  Cecil,  to  implore 
the  court  to  desist.  He  soon  had  reason,  however,  to  repent  his 
temerity ;  and  beccning  an  apt  scholar  as  a  courtier,  not  only  apolo- 
gized for  this  unlucky  letter,  but  henceforth  found  that  there  was  much 
more  in  hoods  and  surplices  than  he  had  been  previously  aware  of. 
But  so  great  a  favourite  did  he  continue  at  Cambridge,  that  a  license  to 
preach  throughout  the  realm  was  granted  to  him  under  the  common  seal, 
and  his  salary  raised  from  twenty  marks  to  twenty  pounds.  About  1567, 
he  was  appointed  regius  professor  of  divinity  in  Pembroke-hall.  He 
remained  here,  however,  only  three  months,  being  promoted  by  the  queen 
to  the  mastership  of  Trinity  college.  This  he  owed  to  the  patronage 
I  if  Sir  William  Cecil.  Soon  after  this,  he  became  doctor  of  divinity. 
In  1570,  he  compiled  a  body  of  laws  for  the  university. 

We  now  came  to  that  part  of  Whitgift's  life,  which  will  ever  be  re- 
garded as  the  deepest  stain  upon  his  character, — his  ungenerous  con- 
duct towards  his  great  antagonist,  the  celebrated  puritan,  Thomas  Cart- 
wright,  at  that  time  Margaret  professor.  Dr  Whitgifl  procured  an 
order  from  the  vice-chancellor  and  heads  of  houses  to  forbid  Cartwright 



Pbriod.]  archbishop  WHTrGIFT.  211 

to  read  any  more  lectures,  unless  he  would  renounce  his  principles. 
Cartwright,  of  course,  refused  so  mean  a  compliance,  merely  to  save  his 
professorship ;  preferring  poverty  with  a  safe  conscience,  to  wealth  or  pre* 
ferment  without  it.  He  justly  complained,  however,  that  this  was  but  a 
miserable  way  of  refuting  his  errors,  if  errors  they  were,  and  a  clear  sub- 
stitution of  authority  for  argument  Nevertheless,  the  strong  arm  of  the 
law  is  assuredly  the  best  reason  which  persecution  was  ever  able  to  give. 
It  would  have  been  well  for  Whitgifl's  fkme  if  he  had  stopped  here,  but 
in  the  controversy  which  afterwards  ensued  between  him  and  his  great 
antagonist,  truth  compels  us  to  say,  that  he  acted  a  yet  more  unworthy 
part;  he  had  the  meanness  to  reproach  Cartwright  with  those  very  miseries 
of  which  he  had  himself  been  the  cause.  He  upbraided  him  with  living 
upon  charity,  when  none  Imew  better  than  himself  who  had  robbed  him  of 
his  honest  livelihood, — and  of  indolence,  when  he  had  himself  silenced 
him.  The  controversy,  however,  which  had  commenced  with  an  exercise 
of  arbitrary  power,  was  to  be  carried  on  with  other  weapons.  Stimulated 
by  the  charges  of  oppression  which  Cartwright  hesitated  not  to  make, 
Whitgifl  attempted  a  confutation  of  his  opinions :  this  work  he  addressed 
to  Archbishop  Parker.  It  was  not  published,  however,  in  the  form  in 
which  it  was  composed ;  but  was  afterwards  embodied  in  his  *  Answei 
to  the  Admonition.'  In  1571,  he  became  vice-chancellor;  in  June, 
dean  of  Lincoln.  Three  months  afterwards,  he  obtained  a  dispensation 
to  hold  with  it  bis  prebend  of  Ely  and  rectory  of  Fevers-ham,  and  any 
benefice  whatever.  He  was  now,  at  the  instance  of  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  engaged  in  the  composition  of  his  *  Answer  to  the  Admoni- 
tion.' The  *  Admonition'  was  the  first  production  of  Field  and  Wilcox. 
In  his  reply  to  it,  Whitgift  received  no  small  aid  from  Archbishop  Parker 
and  other  learned  men,  so  that  this  too  may  be  almost  considered  as 
joint- production.  To  this  performance — ^which  undoubtedly  displays 
great  learning  and  no  mean  powers  of  reasoning — Cartwright  replied  in 
a  work  which  has  been  called  a  masterpiece  of  controversy.  In  answer 
to  this,  with  the  promptitude  which  distinguished  controvertists  of  those 
days,  forth  comes  Whitgift's  *  Defence,'  folio,  1574.  Cartwright,  not  a 
whit  behind,  sends  forth  the  same  year  a  quarto  rejoinder,  entitled  *  The 
second  reply  of  T.  C.  against  Dr  Whitgift's  second  answer  touching 
church  discipline/  This,  however,  only  contained  a  part  of  his  reply; 
the  remainder  was  not  published  till  two  years  after,  during  his  banish* 
ment.  To  this  book,  Whitgift  attempted  no  answer.  For  this,  dif- 
ferent writers,  of  course,  assign  opposite  reasons ;  some  affirming  that 
the  doctor  thought  it  too  contemptible  to  notice ;  others,  with  greater 
probability,  that  he  found  contempt  more  easy  than  refutation.  Here 
ended  the  great  controversy  between  these  two  champions.  Of  the 
respective  merits  of  the  disputants,  persons  will  form  very  opposite 
estimates  according  to  their  opinion  on  the  subjects  of  ecclesiastical 
government  and  discipline.  As  the  controvertists,  however,  proceeded 
in  two  opposite  principles,  it  was  impossible  they  should  ever  convince 
each  other.  While  Whitgift  contended  that,  on  the  subject  of  church 
discipline  and  polity,  the  Scriptures  were  not  a  sufficient  guide,  but 
that  their  deficiencies  must  be  eked  out  by  the  testimonies  of  the 
fathers  and  the  traditions  of  the  primitive  ages;  Cartwright,  on  the 
other  hand,  contended  that  the  inspired  writings  were  the  only  safe 
guide  on  these  points, — ^that  the  fathers  have  too  often  and  too  glaringly 


departed  from  Scripture  even  where  its  language  was  explidt,  to  war- 
rant our  following  them  as  a  guide  where  Scripture  bad  not  enjoined 
the  opinions  they  adopted,— «nd  that  it  was  most  safe  for  the  church  in 
all  ages  to  conform  itself,  as  nearly  as  possible,  to  the  simplicity  of  the 
apostolic  times.  Of  the  talents  and  learning  of  both  these  disputants, 
there  can  be  no  doubt,  though,  from  the  testimony  Beza  gives  concern- 
ing Cartwright,  one  would  judge  him  to  be  the  more  profound  scholar 
of  the  two.  That  the  controversy  was  carried  on  with  much  asperity 
and  personality  on  both  sides  must  be  admitted,  while  it  must  also  be 
admitted,  that  Whitgift's  ungenerous  conduct  in  the  first  instance,  and  his 
unrelenting  persecution  afterwards,  leaves  no  room  to  wonder  that  he 
was  not  treated  with  much  ceremony  or  courtesy  by  one  whom  he  had 
so  deeply  wronged.  But  that  Whitgift  should  have  descended  to  up- 
braid hi  ^  adversary  with  poverty  and  insinuate  suspicions  of  his  learning, 
is  not  less  wonderful  than  humiliating.  The  controversy  issued  of 
course  in  very  different  results  to  the  two  parties.  While  Whitgift 
was  footing  to  an  archbishopric,  poor  Cartwright  was  consigned  to 
poverty,  and  exile ;  and  at  length  died  in  obscurity  and  wretchedness. 
How  pleasant  would  it  have  been  to  say — that  none  of  his  suffer- 
ings were  inflicted  by  his  great  antagonist,  but  that  he  was  treated  by 
him  with  a  generous  magnamity !  Instead  of  this,  Whitgift  followed 
him  through  life  with  inflexible  animo*»]ty. 

At  each  successive  promotion,  Whitgift  displayed  an  accession  of 
high  church  zeal,  became  a  greater  stickler  for  existing  abuses,  and 
more  completely  versed  in  all  the  most  approved  methods  of  checking 
the  progress  of  puritanism.  The  bishop  of  Ely  having  proposed  a  plan 
for  abolishing  pluralities,  and  appropriating  part  of  the  superfluous 
wealth  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  church  to  the  maintainance  of  the  poorer 
clergy,  Dr  Whitgift  opposed  and  ultimately  succeeded  in  defeating  it. 
In  1577,  he  was  made  bishop  of  Worcester. 

At  this  time  Archbishop  Grindal  had  given  displeasure  to  the  queen 
by  his  honest  plain  dealing,  and  his  forbearance  towards  the  puritans. 
Elizabeth — never  very  scrupulous  where  her  ambition  or  thirst  for  ven- 
geance were  concerned — ^wished  Whitgift  to  accept  the  see  of  Canterbury, 
even  during  Grindal's  life.     To  the  honour  of  Whitgift,  he  absolutely 
refused  to  accept  thb  ofier.     As  soon  as  Grindal  died,  which  happened 
in   1583,  Whitgift  was  immediately  appointed  his  successor:  and  no 
sooner  had  he  attained  this  elevated  station  than  he  began  to  correct 
the  abuses,  as  he  esteemed  them,  which  his  predecessor's  leniency  had 
encouraged — ^in  other  words,  he  proceeded  to  put  into  force  all  the 
formidable  artillery  against  the    puritans  with  which  the  law  armed 
him.     These  unhappy  men,  on  account  of  the  indulgence  which  they 
had  met  with  at  the  hands  of  Grindal,  had  sought  his  province  as  an 
a<!ylura  from  persecution.     For  this  blessed  work  of  persecuting  them, 
Whitgift  obtained  the  queen's  express  orders.     In  1563,  he  moved  for 
an  ecclesiastical  commission ;  and  in  1584,  issued  twenty-four  articles, 
which  he  sent  to  the  bishops  of  his  province,  commanding  them  to  de- 
mand fk)ra  all  the  suspected  clergy  of  their  respective  dioceses  an 
answer  to  all  those  articles  upon  oatn,  as  well  as  to  subscribe  to  the 
queen's  supremacy,  the  book  of  common  prayer,  and  the  thirty-nine 
articles.     Subscription  to  these  three  last  articles  was  demanded  during 
the  very  first  week  after  the  archbishop's  primacy.     He  knew  very  weU 

Pbhiod.]  archbishop  WHITGIFT.  213 

that  the  second  article  would  not  be  taken  by  the  puritans ;  and,  con- 
sequently, at  his  very  first  invitation  not  less  than  233  ministers  were 
suspended.  Repeated  and  urgent  were  the  petitions  of  the  people  to 
the  council,  that  their  silenced  pastors  might  be  restored  ;  but  the  ob- 
durate archbishop  was  not  to  be  moved ;  he  resolutely  opposed  their 
petitions,  and  having  obtained  a  new  ecclesiastical  commission,  with 
more  extensive  powers,  drew  up  the  twenty-four  articles  above-men- 
tioned. So  minute  and  specific  are  these  articles  that  it  was  impos- 
sible that  any  clergyman  who  had  the  slightest  objection  to  a  single 
point  in  the  church  of  England  could  conscientiously  swear  to  them. 
It  was  not  without  reason,  therefore,  that  Lord  Burleigh  wrote  an  ex- 
postulatory  letter  to  the  archbishop.  In  this  letter,  his  lordship  does 
not  scruple  to  say,  *^  I  have  read  over  your  24  articles,  formed  in  a 
Romish  style,  of  great  length  and  curiosity,  &c.,  and  I  find  them  so 
curiously  penned,  so  full  of  branches  and  circumstances,  that  I  think 
the  inquisition  of  Spain  used  not  so  many  questions  to  comprehend  and 
trap  their  priests.*'  To  this  the  archbishop  replied  at  length,  and  of 
cx>urse  in  self-vindication.  Finding  him  obstinate,  the  treasurer  sent  back 
only  a  short  but  very  emphatic  answer,  which  drew  from  his  Grace 
another  long  letter.  We  cannot  have  a  better  proof  than  in  this  con- 
trast between  the  practical  wisdom  of  the  statesman,  and  the  unbending, 
impracticable  pertinacity  of  the  churchman,  of  the  truth  of  what  Claren- 
don remarks,  *^  that  no  men  take  so  ill  a  measure  of  human  affairs  as 
ecclesiastics."  To  justify  his  harsh  and  vigorous  measures,  Whitgifl 
was  obliged  to  recur  to  the  more  than  doubtful  precedents  of  the  pro- 
cedure in  the  star-chamber,  the  courts  of  the  marches,  &c ;  and  to 
vindicate  that  oppressive  expedient,  the  administering  the  oath  ex  mero 
officio,  he  tells  us  that  if  the  dignitaries  proceeded  to  the  proof  of  delin- 
quencies by  witnesses  only,  the  law  could  only  be  partially  executed, — 
expenses  would  be  heavy — and  there  would  not  be  sufficiently  quick  des- 
patch with  the  sectaries.  No  wonder  that  Cartwright  found  no  mercy 
at  the  hands  of  such  an  opponent  as  this  I 

In  1585,  Whitgift,  by  a  special  order  from  the  queen,  was  employed 
to  frame  rules  for  the  regulation  of  the  press.  In  1586,  he  was  sworn 
into  the  privy  council,  soon  after  which  he  drew  up  the  statutes  of  the 
cathedral-churches.  In  1587,  on  the  death  of  Sir  Thomas  Bromley, 
the  lord  chancellor,  the  queen  offered  Whitgifl  that  high  office.  This 
he  declined.  In  1588,  appeared  the  celebrated  pamphlet,  entitled  '  Mar- 
tin Mar-prelate,'  in  which  the  oppressive  conduct  of  W^hitgift  is 
most  severely  exposed.  Two  years  afterwards,  his  old  opponent.  Cart- 
wright,  was  sent  to  the  Fleet  prison,  chiefly  for  refusing  to  take  the 
oath  ex  officio.  In  1591,  he  was  brought  before  the  star-chamber, 
when,  upon  his  giving  bail  for  his  peaceable  behaviour,  he  was  dis- 

In  1595,  during  an  interval  of  partial  repose  from  other  disputes,  the 
predestinarian  controversy  was  agitated.  It  was  at  this  time  that 
Whitgifl,  in  concert  with  Bancroft,  bishop  of  London,  Vaughan,  bishop 
of  Bangor,  Tyndale,  dean  of  Ely,  and  others,  drew  up  the  famous  '  Lam- 
beth Articles.'  These  articles  are  in  the  main  in  accordance  with  Cal- 
vinism. **  I  know  them,"  said  the  archbishop,  ^^  to  be  sound  doctrines." 
They  were  sent  to  Cambridge,  with  a  letter  from  Whitgifl,  in  which  he 
recommended  that  nothing  should  be  publicly  taught  to  the  contrary. 

lo  1595,  be  began  to  build  his  hospital  at  Croydon.  This  act  of  mimi- 
ficeoce  did  not  meet  with  all  the  gratitude  to  which  it  was  undoubted- 
ly entitled,  for  it  occasioned  some  calumnious  reports  of  his  Grace's  in- 
ordinate wealth.  This  induced  the  bishop  to  give  an  account  of  his 
revenues,  which  proved  satis&ctory* 

On  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  Whitgift  sent  Dr  Neil,  dean  of  Canter- 
bury, into  Scotland,  to  James,  to  learn  his  pleasure  touching  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  church.  Though  the  reply  was  gracious,  the  archbish- 
op's fears  were  by  no  means  removed ;  the  puritans  knew  how  James 
had  been  educated,  and  what  he  had  promised,  and  openly  expressed  a 
hope  of  being  released  from  fetters  which  had  so  long  galled  thenu 
At  length  the  celebrated  Hampton  court  conference  was  appointed,  at 
which  the  puritans  were  to  state  their  grievances.  Of  the  history  and 
results  of  that  conference  we  are  not  called  here  to  speak.  SufRce  it  to 
say,  that  Whitgift  played  the  courtier  on  this  occasion  as  well  as  he  had 
before  played  the  tyrant :  it  is  impossible  to  say  much  more.  The 
following  may  serve  as  a  specimen : — ^When  the  king  expressed  his 
approbation  of  the  law  making  the  oath  ex  officio,  he  assured  his  majesty 
that  he  undoubtedly  spoke  *'  by  the  special  assistance  of  God's  Spirit  I  " 
Whitgift  did  not  live  long  after  this  "  mock  conference,"  as  it  has  been 
justly  styled.  He  was  seized  with  a  paralytic  stroke,  as  he  was  going 
to  the  council  chamber,  and  was  conveyed  to  Lambeth,  where,  after 
lingering  a  few  days,  he  died.  Camden  and  Strype  both  intimate  that 
grief  for  the  state  of  the  church,  and  fear  of  the  efforts  of  the 
puritans^  under  a  new  king  and  a  new  parliament,  had  a  share 
in  his  death.  Any  such  distrust  of  the  king,  however,  seems  very  im- 
probable, for,  as  Strype  has  observed,  "  by  what  we  have  heard  before 
related  in  the  king's  management  of  the  conference,  and  the  letter  he 
himself  wrote  to  the  archbishop,  he  had  a  better  satisfaction  of  the 
king's  mind." 

Whitgift  was  interred  in  the  parish  church  of  Croydon,  where  a 
monument  was  erected  to  his  memory. 

To  form  a  correct  estimate  of  his  character,  requires  both  great  can- 
dour and  great  discrimination.  That  he  was  exceedingly  oppressive 
and  tyrannical  towards  the  puritans  cannot  admit  of  a  doubt ;  yet  it  is 
but  just  to  say,  tiiat  he  appears  to  have  been  actuated  by  integrity  of 
purpose,  and  to  have  been  sincerely  convinced  of  the  rectitude  of  his  own 
conduct.  It  ought,  moreover,  in  fairness,  to  be  stated,  that  the  zeal  and 
rigour  which  marked  the  early  part  of  his  career,  considerably  abated 
towards  the  close  of  life.  His  learning,  there  cannot  be  a  question, 
was  great,  though,  by  many,  it  has  been  overrated.  It  is  well  known 
that  Hugh  Broughton,  the  celebrated  Hebrseist,  often  objected  to  him, 
that  he  went  no  farther  than  the  Latin,  and,  on  the  profounder  points 
of  theology,  he  appears  to  have  been  by  no  means  well  versed,  though 
he  is  admitted  by  all  to  have  been  an  eloquent  and  powerftil  preacher. 
His  fame  chiefly  rests,  however,  on  his  knowledge  of  ecclesiastical 
history  and  antiquities ;  but  still  more  in  the  talent  and  decision  with 
which  he  exercised,  in  so  many  years,  and  in  such  critical  times,  the 
high  functions  with  which  he  was  invested. 

In  the  employment  of  his  wealth  he  was  not  only  charitable  but 
munificent;  especially  to  distressed  and  persecuted  ministers  from 
abroad,  whom  Beza  and  others  commended  to  his  kindness.     Nay,  it 

Period.]  RICHARD  HOOKER.  215 

is  reported   that  he  fireqaeotly  remitted  large  8umB  to   Beza  him- 

In  his  temper,  he  was  irascible, — an  infirmity,  alas  !  that  is  seldom 
found  disunited  from  ardent  zeaL  This  disposition,  however,  it  is  said,  he 
partially  subdued ;  so  far,  indeed,  that  the  *  judicious  Hooker '  scruples 
not  to  say,  <*that  he  always  governed  with  that  moderation  which 
useth,  by  patience,  to  suppress  boldness."  Nevertheless,  there  were 
incontrovertibly  seasons  in  which  he  governed,  but  without  modera- 
tion, and  displayed  far  more  boldness  than  patience.  He  publish- 
ed nothing  but  what  the  controversy  with  Cartwright  provoked.  In 
Strype's  life,  however,  will  be  found  a  curious  collection  of  his  papers, 
declarations,  letters,  &c.,  which  form  both  a  valuable  commentary  on 
bis  own  character,  and  one  striking'y  illustrative  of  the  times  in 
which  he  lived. 

BORN  A.  D.  1553. — ^DIED  A,  D.  1600. 

This  celebrated  divine  was  bom  at  Heavitree,  near  Exeter,  about 
the  year  1553.  His  parents  were  respectable  in  character,  and  of 
middling  circumstances,  but  neglected  not  the  education  of  their  son. 
He  was  placed  at  the  grammar  school  of  Exeter,  and,  by  his  early 
genius,  modesty,  and  inquisitive  mind,  won  the  aifectious  of  his 
tutor.  This  worthy  man  interested  liiUiSelf  exceedingly  for  young 
Hooker;  and,  by  his  earnest  persuasion,  the  youth  was  continued 
at  school  to  wait  for  some  opening  whereby  he  might  proceed  to  college. 
Being  now  destined  for  the  church,  his  parents  and  tutor  redoubled 
their  diligence  to  instil  into  his  mind  the  principles  of  piety  and  vir- 
tue ;  and  the  tutor  did  his  part  toward  the  advancement  of  his  pupil  in 
the  paths  of  learning. 

Young  Hooker  had  an  uncle,  possessed  of  wealth,  and  residing  in  the 
city  of  Exeter,  chamberlain  of  the  city,  and  representing  it  in  parlia- 
ment ;  learned  also  in  antiquities,  and  able  to  appreciate  the  value  of 
education.  To  this  gentleman  the  tutor  applied,  on  behalf  of  his  pupil, 
to  prevail  with  him  to  become  his  patron,  and  send  him  to  college. 
The  uncle  assenting,  Richard  was  introduced  by  him  to  Bishop  Jewel, 
whom  he  '*  besought,  for  charity's  sake,  to  look  favourably  upon  a  poor 
nephew  of  his,  whom  nature  had  fitted  for  a  scholar,  but  the  estate  of  his 
parents  was  so  narrow,  that  they  were  unable  to  give  him  the  advan- 
tage of  learning,  and  that  the  bishop  would,  therefore,  become  his  pa- 
tron, and  prevent  him  from  being  a  tradesman,  for  that  he  was  a  boy  of 
remarkable  hopes." 

Being  now  in  his  fourteenth  year,  Richard  was  directed,  by  the 
bishop,  to  remove  to  Oxford,  and  there  to  attend  Dr  Cole,  then  presi- 
dent of  Corpus  Christi  college,  who  appointed  him  a  tutor,  and  made 
him  Bible-clerk  of  the  college.  Here  he  continued  under  the  instruc- 
tion of  Dr  John  Reynolds  until  he  was  eighteen  ;  and  his  patron,  the 
bishop,  took  care  to  recommend  him  so  strongly  to  Sandys,  archbishftp 
of  York,  that  he  had  the  bishop's  son  for  a  pupil  at  Oxford.  About  this 
period,  he  had  a  dangerous  illness,  which  lasted  two  months.     On  his 

recovery,  he  took  a  joarney  on  foot,  with  a  college  friend,  to  see  bis 
mother,  who  had  been  extremely  anxious  for  his  recovery.  On  bis 
way,  he  called  on  his  patron,  the  bishop,  at  Salisbury,  who  treated  him 
with  great  friendship,  enjoining  him  to  return  to  him  on  his  way  back. 
In  the  meantime,  however,  the  bishop  died,  and  Hooker  became  deject- 
ed at  the  loss  of  his  patron.  His  friend,  Dr  Cole,  however,  promised 
him  his  assistance,  and,  in  a  short  time,  he  was  chosen  to  be  one  of  the 
twenty  scholars  of  the  foundation,  being  a  native  of  DoTonshire. 
Having  taken  his  degree  of  master  of  arts,  in  1577,  he  was  chosen  fel- 
low of  the  college.  At  this  time  Hooker  contracted  an  intimacy  with 
several  learned  men,  whose  names  are  well  kQown  to  the  world,  among 
whom  were  Sir  Henry  Savil,  Dr  J.  Reynolds,  and  Dr  Spence«  His 
two  dbtinguished  pupib,  Sir  Edwyn  Sandys  and  George  Cranmer,  ne- 
phew to  the  archbishop,  entertained  for  him  the  highest  regard,  and  be* 
came  his  intimate  friends. 

Thus  pursuing  his  studies  till  about  1581,  he  then  entered  into 
orders,  and  was,  according  to  the  college  statutes,  immediately  appoint- 
ed to  preach  a  sermon  at  St  Paul's  Cross,  London.  On  arrival  in 
town,  after  a  fatiguing  and  uncomfortable  journey  on  horseback,  he  was 
lodged  at  a  dwelling  appropriated  for  the  preachers,  called  the  Shunamite's 
house.  This  was  kept  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Churchman,  whose  wife, 
pitying  Mr  Hooker's  sad  plight,  nursed  him  very  assiduously,  thereby  ena- 
bling him  to  go  through  the  duty  for  which  he  came.  The  worthy  preacher 
felt  his  hostess's  kindness  so  gratefully,  that  he  was  easily  persuaded  to  pro- 
mise her  that  he  would  enter  into  the  matrimonial  estate,  and  conmiit 
to  her  care  the  business  of  choosing  him  a  wife.  Mrs  Churchman  soon 
fulfilled  her  commission,  by  proposing  her  own  daughter,  who  soon  after 
became  Mrs  Hooker.  Having  thus  lost  his  fellowship,  and,  according 
to  report,  made  a  most  unequal  match,  he  was  presented,  in  1584,  to  the 
rectory  of  Drayton-Beauchamp,  in  Buckinghamshire,  where,  having 
continued  about  a  year,  his  two  pupils,  EdWyn  Sandys  and  George  Cran- 
mer, on  their  return  from  their  travels  paid  him  a  visit.  They  found 
him  tending  a  few  sheep  on  the  common,  with  the  odes  of  Horace  in 
his  hand,  and  learned  that  they  must  stay  with  him  there  till  the  ser- 
vant's return.  They  had  scarcely  entered  the  parsonage  when  Mrs 
Hooker  sent  for  her  husband  to  rock  the  cradle  ;  and  the  visitors,  find- 
ing their  presence  unwelcome  to  the  lady,  took  their  departure  hastily, 
much  lamenting  their  beloved  tutor's  condition,  to  which,  however,  he 
was  piously  resigned,  as  appears  by  his  reply  to  George  Cranmer's 
condolement, — "  My  dear  George,  if  saints  have  usually  a  double  share 
in  the  miseries  of  this  life,  I  that  am  none  ought  not  to  repine  at  what  my 
wise  Creator  hath  appointed  for  me,  but  labour,  as  indeed  I  do  daily,  to 
submit  to  his  will,  and  possess  my  soul  in  patience  and  peace.'* 

On  their  return  to  London,  Edwin  Sandys  earnestly  solicited  his  fa- 
ther, then  bishop  of  London,  to  provide  for  Hooker's  more  comfortable 
maintenance.  An  opportunity  soon  occurred  by  the  death  of  Mr  Alvy, 
master  of  the  temple,  who,  for  his  learning  and  consistent  deportment, 
liad  acquired  the  appellation  of  Father  Alvy.  The  archbishop  so  strongly 
recommended  Mr  Hooker  to  succeed  their  late  friend,  that  the  benchers 
offered  him  the  appointment,  which,  though  pressed  by  the  bbhop,  he 
was  most  reluctant  to  accept,  preferring  a  more  private  and  quiet  sta- 
tion.    His  aversion,  however,  being  overcome  by  the  bishop's  persua- 

Pbmod.]  RICHABD  hooker.  217 

»on9>  he  was,  by  patent,  made  master  of  the  temple  for  life,  being;  then 
in  the  34th  year  of  his  age.  The  publicity  of  this  situation  was  not 
suitable  to  the  habits  of  Hooker,  nor  was  he  able  to  enjoy  that  personal 
quietness  which  he  desired.  Being  the  morning  lecturer  at  the  temple, 
in  the  room  of  Mr  Alvy,  the  afternoon  preacher  was  Mr  Travers,  who 
followed  the  opinions  of  Cartwright  the  puritan,  and  leaned  to  the  pres- 
byterian  side  in  discipline.  This  contrariety  of  sentiment  led  to  an 
amicable  controversy  between  the  lecturers,  who  seem  to  have  enter- 
tained for  each  other  all  due  respect.  Thus,  it  was  observed,  "  the  fore- 
noon sermon  spoke  Canterbury,  and  the  afternoon  Geneva." 

This  pulpit  warfare  having  continued  sometime,  and  the  benchers  be- 
ing as  divided  as  their  preachers,  Travers*s  sentiments  beginning  to  pre- 
vail in  the  temple,  the  archbishop,  Whitgift,  put  a  stop  to  Mr  Travet-s's 
preaching,  by  a  positive  prohibition.  Travers  appesJed  in  vain  to  the 
queen,  though  powerfully  supported  in  the  council  by  the  earl  of  Lei- 
cester and  others.  The  archbishop,  her  '  little  black  husband,'  as  she 
termed  him,  effectually  excluded  him,  and  thus  decided  the  controversy 
in  the  temple.  But  Mr  Travers  having  published  his  memorial  address- 
ed to  the  queen,  and  his  cause  being  taken  up  by  persons  of  great  con- 
sideration. Hooker  was  called  upon,  also,  to  appear  in  print  with  his 
answer,  which  he  dedicated  to  the  archbishop.  Mr  Travers  accused 
Hooker  of  maintaining  several  doctrinal  errors,  particularly  this,  that 
men  might  be  saved  although  they  mingled  their  own  merits  with  those 
of  Christ, — supposing,  for  example,  a  pope  or  cardinal  to  renounce  all 
error,  this  one  opinion  of  merit  excepted,  that  we  ought  not  to  con- 
clude them  without  hope. 

The  removal  of  Mr  Travers  from  the  temple,  in  this  way,  gave  much 
offence  to  many  of  the  benchers,  who  were  not  careful  to  transfer  to 
Mr  Hooker  the  respect  which  they  had  manifested  to  their  late  minister. 
Hooker^  however,  thought  to  win  them,  by  composing  a  regular  treatise 
on  church  polity,  to  be  comprised  in  eight  books,  justifying  to  the  utmost 
the  established  order  of  the  church  of  England.  This  work  was  to  de- 
fend the  doctrine  of  the  church's  power  to  make  canons  for  the  use  of  cere- 
monies, and,  by  law,  to  impose  an  obedience  to  them  as  upon  her  children. 
Having  commenced  the  work  in  the  temple,  he  found  too  much  db- 
traction  in  that  situation,  and,  therefore,  solicited  the  archbishop  to  re- 
move him  to  the  country.  In  his  address  he  says, — "  I  am  weary  of 
the  noise  and  oppositions  of  this  place  :  indeed  God  and  nature  did  not 
intend  me  for  contentions,  but  for  study  and  quietness  ;  and,  my  lord, 
my  particular  contests  here  with  Mr  Travers  have  proved  the  more  un- 
pleasant to  me  because  I  believe  him  to  be  a  good  man,  and  that  belief 
hath  occasioned  me  to  examine  mine  own  conscience  concerning  his 
opinions  ;  and  to  satisfy  that,  I  have  consulted  the  holy  Scripture,  and 
other  laws,  both  human  and  divine,  whether  the  conscience  of  him^ 
and  others  of  his  judgment,  ought  to  be  so  far  complied  with  by  us  as 
to  alter  our  frame  of  church  government,  our  manner  of  God's  worship, 
our  praising  and  praying  to  him,  and  our  established  ceremonies,  as 
often  as  their  tender  consciences  shall  require  us ;  and,  in  this  examina- 
tion, I  have  not  only  satisfied  myself,  but  have  begun  a  treatise,  in 
irfaich  I  intend  the  satisfaction  of  others,  by  a  demonstration  of  the 
reasonableness  of  our  laws  of  ecclesiastical  polity,  and  therein  laid  a 
hopeful  foundation  for  the  church's  peace ;  and  so  as  not  to  provoke 

II.  2  E 


your  adversary,  Mr  Cartwright,  nor  Mr  Travers,  whom  I  take  to 
be  mine — but  not  mine  enemy — God  knows  this  to  be  my  meaning. 
To  which  end  I  have  searched  many  books,  and  spent  many  thought- 
ful hours,  and  I  hope  not  in  vain,  for  I  write  to  reasonable  men.  But, 
my  lord,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  finish  what  I  have  begun  unless  I  be 
removed  into  some  quiet  country  parsQnage,  where  I  may  see  God  s 
blessings  spring  out  of  my  mother  earth,  and  eat  mine  own  bread  in 
peace  and  privacy, — a  place  where  I  may,  without  disturbance,  medi- 
tate my  approaching  mortality,  and  that  great  account  which  all  flesh 
must,  at  the  last  great  day,  give  to  the  God  of  all  spirits.  This  is  my 
Jesign ;  and,  as  these  are  the  desires  of  my  heart,  so  they  shall,  by 
God*s  assistance,  be  the  constant  endeavours  of  the  uncertain  remaindei 
of  my  life;  and,  therefore,  if  your  Grace  can  think  me  and  my  poor  la- 
bours worthy  of  such  a  fiivour,  let  me  beg  it,  that  I  may  perfect  what  I 
have  begun,  which  is  a  blessing  I  cannot  hope  for  in  this  place." 

Mr  Hooker,  therefore,  in  1591,  was  presented  to  the  rectory  of  Bos- 
cum,  near  Salisbury,  and,  in  the  same  year,  was  instituted  a  minor  pre- 
oendaiy  of  the  cathedral.     Here  he  continued  till  he  had  finished  four 
of  his  eight  proposed  books  on  ecclesiastical  polity,  which  he  printed  and 
published  in  1594,  being  then  in  the  d9th  year  of  his  age.     In  1595 
he  surrendered  the  living  of  Boscum,  and  was  presented  by  the  qut^n 
with  that  of  Bishop's  Borne,  three  miles  from  Canterbury.    Here  he  pro- 
ceeded with  his  treatise,  and,  having  completed  the  fiflh  book,  he  publish- 
ed it  separately  in  1597,  and  dedicated  it  to  his  patron,  the  archbishop. 
The  fame  of  this  work  having  reached  Rome,  and  being  approved  of 
by  the  most  learned  of  the  papists.  Cardinal  Allen  and  Dr  Stapleton 
recommended  it  so  strongly  to  Clement  the  VIII.,  that  he  desired  to 
have  it  translated  into  Liatin,  declaring  that  '*  his  works  would  get  reve- 
rence by  age,  for  that  there  were  such  seeds  of  eternity  in  them  as 
would  make  them  continue  till  the  last  fire  shall  consume  all  learning." 
This  work  was  also  highly  esteemed  by  James  the   First,  who  said  to 
Archbishop  Whitgif);, — '*  I  have  received  more  satisfaction  in  reading  a 
a  leaf  or  paragraph  in  Mr  Hooker,  though  it  were  but  about  the  fashion 
of  churches,  or  church  music,  or  the  like,  but  especially  of  the  sacra- 
ments, than  I  have  had  in  reading  large  treatises  written  but  of  one  of 
those  subjects  by  others,  though  very  learned  men."     Charles  the  First, 
also,  had  so  high  a  regard  for  this  work  that  he  enjoined  his  son  to  be 
"  studious  in  Mr  Hooker's  books."     At  Bishop's  Borne  he  divided  his 
time  between  study  and  devotion  and  the  discharge  of  his  pastoral  da- 
ties,  and  proceeded  to  the  completion  of  the  remaining  three  books  of 
the  church  polity. 

While  in  this  retirement  he  contracted  a  close  intimacy  with  Dr 
Saravia,  an  opponent  of  Beza  on  the  subject  of  church  polity.  This 
friendship  was  particularly  cheering  to  Hooker  under  his  la^t  iUness, 
which  was  thought  to  be  aggravated  by  his  close  application  to  study,  in 
order  to  finish  his  book.  This  being  accomplished,  his  appetite  failed, 
and  he  was  confined  to  his  bed.  The  day  preceding  his  death,  his 
friend,  Dr  Saravia,  confessed  him,  gave  him  absolution,  and  administer- 
ed the  sacrament  to  him.  The  next  morning,  on  visiting  him,  the 
Doctor  found  him  in  meditation,  and,  on  inquiring  the  subject,  he  re- 
plied that  he  was  meditating  the  number  and  nature  of  angels,  and  their 
blessed  obedience  and  order,  without  which  peace  could  not  be  m  hea- 



PiaiOD.]  DEAN  NOWELL.  219 

ven  ;  and,  oh,  that  it  might  be  so  on  earth  I  adding  these  words  :•— **  I 
have  lived  to  see  this  world  is  made  up  of  perturbations,  and  I  have 
been  long  preparing  to  leave  it,  and  gathering  comfort  for  the  dreadful 
hour  of  making  my  account  with  God,  which  I  now  apprehend  to  be 
near ;  and  though  I  have,  by  his  grace,  loved  him  in  my  youth,  and 
(bared  him  in  mine  age,  and  laboured  to  have  a  conscience  void  of 
ofience  to  him,  and  to  all  men,  yet  if  thou,  O  Lord,  be  extreme  to  mark 
i^vhat  I  have  done  amiss,  who  can  abide  it  ?  and,  therefore,  where  I  have 
Huled,  Lord,  show  mercy  to  me  ;  for  I  plead  not  my  righteousness,  but 
the  forgiveness  of  my  unrighteousness  for  his  merits  who  died  to  pur« 
chase  a  pardon  for  penitent  sinners  ;  and  since  I  owe  thee  a  death.  Lord, 
let  it  not  be  terrible,  and  then  take  thine  own  time.  I  submit  to  it 
Let  not  mine,  O  Lord,  but  thy  will  be  done."  Then  falling  into  slum- 
l>er,  on  his  awaking  he  said, — '*  Good  Doctor,  God  hath  heard  my  daily 
petitions,  for  I  am  at  peace  with  all  men,  and  he  is  at  peace  with  me; 
and  from  which  blessed  assurance  I  feel  that  inward  joy  which  this 
\ivorld  can  neither  give  nor  take  from  me."  Soon  after  uttering  these 
irords,  he  expired,  in  the  46th  year  of  his  age,  and  a.  d.  1600. 

39ean  j^olDdl. 

BORN  A.  D.  1507^— DIED  A.  O.   1601. 

The  name  of  Alexander  Nowell,  during  a  period  of  seventy  years, 
was  intimately  connected  with  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  liistory  of  his 
country.  He  was  the  son  of  John  Nowell,  of  Read,  in  the  county  of 
L«ancaster,  and  was  born  in  1507  or  1508.  He  was  educated  at  Mid- 
dleton,  and  became  a  member  of  Brazen  nose  college,  Oxford,  at  the 
early  age  of  thirteen.  In  his  twentieth  year,  he  was  a  public  reader  oi 
l<^c  in  that  university.  In  1543,  he  was  appointed  second  master  on 
the  new  foundation  of  Westminster  school,  in  which  important  station 
he  is  said  to  have  instilled  the  principles  of  the  Reformation  into  the 
minds  of  his  pupils,  while  reading  with  them  the  New  Testament  in  the 
original  language.  The  successor  of  Nowell  in  the  mastership  of 
Westminster,  was  Nicholas  Udall,  famous,  like  Busby,  '  for  erudition 
and  for  flogging.' 

In  the  first  parliament  of  Mary,  Nowell  was  returned  for  Loo,  in 
Cornwall,  but  was  not  permitted  to  take  his  seat,  on  the  ground  of  his 
being  a  prebendary  of  Westminster,  and  merely  having  a  voice  in  the 
convocation.  The  decision  was  by  no  means  a  correct  one,  for  none 
below  the  dignity  of  dean  or  archdean  were  bound  to  personal  appear- 
ance in  the  convocation  ;  but  Nowell  found  it  expedient  to  submit  to 
it,  and  soon  afterwards  to  remove  altogether  from  the  kingdom,  and 
join  his  exiled  countrymen  in  Germany.  In  their  society  he  distin- 
guished himself  by  his  endeavours  to  preserve  and  promote  the  general 
harmony,  which  was  threatened  with  interruption  by  the  unfortunate 
disputes  which  occurred  amongst  them,  on  the  subject  of  church  govern- 
ment. On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  Nowell  returned  to  England, 
and  was  made  one  of  the  commissioners  for  the  visitation  of  the  king- 
dom. His  brother,  Laurence,  was  appointed  dean  of  Lichfield  ;  him- 
self,  rector  of  Saltwood,  prebendary  of  Canterbury,  prebendary  of 


Westminster,  and,  finally,  dean  of  St  Paul's,  In  1563,  Noiiell  was 
chosen  prolocutor  of  the  lower  house  of  convocation,  when  the  articles 
of  religion  were  revised  and  subscribed  ;  and,  on  this  occasion,  he  pro- 
posed that  some  other  long  garment  should  be  used  instead  of  the 
surplice ;  that  the  sign  of  the  cross  should  be  omitted  in  baptism ;  that 
kneeling  at  the  communion  should  be  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  ordi- 
nary, and  that  saints'  days  should  be  abrogated ;  but  he  was  over- 
ruled in  these  judicious  propositions,  by  ^e  voice  of  the  majority. 
The  principal  production  of  Nowell's  pen,  is  his  <  Catechism,'  which 
was  first  published  in  June,  1570,  in  Latin.  Shortly  afterwards,  a 
Latin  abridgment  of  it  appeared,  and  both  were  immediately  translated 
into  English,  by  Thomas  Norton.     They  are  still  standard  books. 

Nowell  died  on  the  13th  of  February,  1601.  His  character  has 
been  thus  ably  summed  up  by  his  latest  and  best  biographer,  Mr 
Churton : — "  Nowell  was  one  of  those  holy  builders,  who,  in  repairing 
the  breaches  of  our  Sion,  did  not  use  '  untempered  mortar.'  Endowed 
with  excellent  parts,  he  was  soon  distinguished  by  the  progress  he 
made  in  the  schools  of  Oxford,  where  he  devoted  thirteen  years,  the  flower 
of  his  youth,  and  the  best  time  for  improvement,  to  the  cultivation  of 
classical  elegance  and  useful  knowledge.  His  capacity  for  teaching, 
tried  first  in  the  shade  of  the  university,  became  more  conspicuous 
when  he  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  first  seminary  in  the  metropolis , 
and,  at  the  same  time,  his  talents  as  a  preacher  were  witnessed  and  ap- 
proved by  some  of  the  principal  auditories  of  the  realm.  Attainments 
such  as  these,  and  a  life  that  adorned  them,  rendered  him  a  fit  object 
for  Bonner's  hatred ;  but  Providence  rescued  him  from  the  fangs  of  the 
tiger,  in  the  very  act  of  springing  upon  his  prey. 

*  Habueruiit  virtutes  spatium  exemplorum.' 

Retirement,  suffering,  and  study,  in  the  company  of  Jewell,  Grindal, 
and  Sandys,  stimulated  by  the  conversation  and  example  of  Peter 
Martyr,  and  other  famed  divines  of  Germany,  returned  him  to  his  na- 
tive land,  with  reunited  vigour  and  increasing  lustre,  when  the  days  of 
tyranny  were  overpast. 

Elizabeth,  and  her  sage  counsellor,  Burleigh,  placed  him  at  once  in 
an  eminent  situation  among  those  of  secondary  rank  in  the  church,  and 
accumulated  other  preferments  upon  him,  and  would  probably  have 
advanced  him  to  the  episcopal  bench,  had  not  his  real  modesty,  to- 
gether with  the  consciousness  of  approaching  old  age,  been  known  to 
have  created  in  him  a  fixed  determination  not  to  be  rabed  to  a  station 
of  greater  dignity  ;  which,  however,  all  things  considered,  could  scarce- 
ly, in  his  case,  have  been  a  sphere  of  greater  usefulness.  Near  to  his 
fHend  and  patron,  Bishop  Grindal,  near  also  to  his  other  illustrious  friend 
and  patron,  the  excellently  pious  and  prudent  Archbishop  Parker,  and 
not  distant  from  the  court,  he  was  an  able  coadjutor  to  each  and  to  all^ 
in  bringing  forward  and  perfecting  what  they  all  had  at  heart, — the 
restoration  of  true  and  pure  religion.  It  is  indeed  impossible  to  view 
him,  in  the  department  assigned  him,  without  love  and  admiration. 
Meelt,  retired,  and  unobtrusive,  he  is  ready  at  every  call  of  duty ;  he 
is  solicited  from  all  quarters,  and  on  all  occasions.  If  a  sermon,  on 
some  great  emergency,  is  to  be  preached  at  the  cross,  at  court,  or  be- 
fore parliament, — Nowell  is  the  preacher.   If  the  relenlless  hand  of  death 

Pkbiod.]  THOMAS  CARTWRIGHT.  221 

has  deprived  the  nation  of  one  of  its  brightest  ornaments,  of  either  sex, 
an  Ascham,.  a  Sidney,  or  a  Cecil, — ^he  is  requested  to  console  the  sur- 
viving relatives  in  a  funeral  discourse,  and  to  convert  the  common  ex- 
ample into  benefit  When  the  beautiful  and  lofty  spire  of  St  Paul's, 
by  a  stroke  from  heaven,  is  laid  in  ashes,  the  dean  is  the  person  who 
successfully  exhorts  the  generous  citizens  to  a  speedy  reparation  of  the 
sacred  edifice.  When  the  proud  armada  has  b^n  defeated, — ^he  is  se- 
lected to  announce  in  the  house  of  God,  the  unparalleled  victory,  and 
to  prepare  the  public  mind  for  public  thanks.  If  donations  are  solicit- 
ed for  the  university  in  which  he  was  not  educated,  at  the  hands  of 
those  who  are  ever  ready  to  give, — ^the  opulent  merchants  and  inhabi- 
tants of  the  metropolis, — ^their  thoughts  are  immediately  fixed  upon 
Mr  Nowell,  and  he  is  desired  to  be  treasurer  of  the  bounty.  When 
contributions  are  requested  for  distressed  protestants  abroad,  those  of 
first  rank  and  influence  in  the  nation,  wishing  to  forward  the  object  of 
the  petition,  particularly  desire  the  aid  and  advice  of  Nowell." 

BORN  A.  n.  1535. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1603. 

This  distinguished  puritan  divine  was  bom  in  the  county  of  Hert- 
ford, about  the  year  1535.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  entered  St  John's 
college,  Cambridge.  Here  he  pursued  bis  studies  so  closely  as  never 
to  allow  himself  more  than  five  hours  for  repose — a  rule  to  which  he 
adhered  through  life.  On  the  death  of  Edward  VI.  and  the  general 
conformity  of  the  clergy  to  the  popish  ritual,  he  found  it  expedient  to 
withdraw  from  college,  and  to  engage  himself  as  assistant  to  a  hamster. 
On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth,  when  the  clergy  reverted  back  to  protes- 
tantism, Cartwright  was  inducted  into  his  college  again.  The  bent  of 
his  mind  was  toward  the  study  of  theology ;  but  he  neglected  no  branch 
iof  useful  knowledge,  and  he  was  distinguished  for  his  acuteness  in 
logic.  In  1560,  he  became  fellow  of  his  college,  which  he  quitted  in 
1563,  for  another  fellowship  in  Trinity  college,  where  he  was  soon  ap- 
pointed one  of  the  socii  mctfores. 

In  1564,  her  majesty  was  magnificently  entertained  at  the  university, 
on  which  occasion  a  philosophy-act  was  held,  and  Castwright  engaged 
in  it  as  first  opponent.  In  1567  he  commenced  bachelor  of  divinity, 
and  in  1569  was  made  Margaret  professor  of  divinity.  His  professor- 
ship implied  his  qualification  for  the  degree  of  doctor  of  divinity,  and 
accordingly  he  put  in  his  claim  for  a  diploma  at  the  ensuing  commence- 
ment ;  but  the  symptoms  of  puritanism  were  too  apparent  to  allow  of 
his  obtaining  this  honour.  His  popularity,  however,  suffered  no  abate- 
ment from  this  opposition ;  and  his  lectures  on  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
at  St  Mary's,  drew  crowds  of  admiring  auditors.  Cartwright  was  no 
advocate  for  ceremonies ;  and  such  was  the  effect  of  his  sermon  at  the 
chapel  of  his  college,  on  one  occasion,  that  all  the  students,  except  three, 
appeared  at  evening-prayer  without  the  surplice,  against  which  he  had 
been  inveighing. 

Mr  Cartwright  proceeding  in  the  work  of  reformation  faster  than  was 
agreeable  to  the  queen  and  the  bishops,  Grindal,  archbishop  of  York, 



addressed  a  letter,  June  24tli,  1570,  to  the  chancellor  of  the  university, 
Sir  William  Cecil,  then  secretary  of  state,  wherein  he  pressed  that  some 
course  might  be  taken  with  Mr  Cartwright*     He  represented,  that  his 
lectures  were  directed  against  the  external  polity  and  officers  of  the 
church,  and  that,  consequently,  the  students  who  were  very  *'  toward  in 
learning,"  attended  in  great  numbers,  and  were  in  danger  of  being 
<<  poisoned  by  him  with  love  of  contention  and  liking  of  novelty.'*    He 
accordingly  solicited  the  chancellor  to  procure  Cartwright  and  his  ad- 
herents to  be  silenced,  ^'  both  in  schools  and  pulpits,"  and  if  they  could 
not  be  reduced  to  conformity,  to  expel  them  firom  their  colleges  or  the 
university,  as  the  case   should  require.      He  also  urged    upon   the 
chancellor,  that  Cartwright  might  not  be  allowed  to  take  his  degree 
or  proceed  doctor  in  divinity  for  which  he   had  made    application. 
Cartwright  immediately  appeided  in  an  elegant  Latin  letter  to  the 
chancellor,  affirming  that  he  was  averse  to  every  thing  seditious  or  con- 
tentious ;  that  he  had  not  taught  any  doctrine  which  his  texts  did  not 
justify;  and  that  he  had  cautiously  avoided  treating  of  the  habits,  even 
when  an  occasion  offi^red  itself:  but  he  admitted  having  taught  that 
the  ministry  of  the  church  had  declined  from  that  of  the  ancient  and 
apostolic  church,  and  that  he  wished  it  should  be  framed  on  a  purer 
model.     Even  these  sentiments,  he  said,  he  had  delivered  **  sedately, 
and  in  a  way  which  none  but  some  ignorant  or  malignant  hearers 
could  find  fault  with." 

This  reply  was  favourably  received  by  the  chancellor,  who,  however, 
forbade  him  <'  to  read  upon  those  nice  questions.''  CartwrigTit  soon 
after  presented  to  Dr  May,  the  vice-chancellor,  a  paper  containing 
several  propositions  relative  to  ecclesiastical  reform,  of  which  the  follow- 
ing are  the  heads.  '*  1.  The  names  and  functions  of  archbishops  and 
archdeacons  ought  to  be  abolished.  2.  The  offices  of  the  lawful  minis- 
ters of  the  church,  as  bishops  and  deacons,  ought  to  be  reduced  to  the 
Scriptural  and  apostolical  institution  ; — ^the  bishops  to  preach  the  word 
of  God  and  pray,  and  deacons  to  have  charge  of  the  poor.  3.  The 
government  of  the  church  ought  not  to  be  intrusted  to  bishops,  chan- 
cellors, or  to  officials  of  archdeacons ;  but  every  church  ought  to  be 
governed  by  its  own  minister  and  presbytery.  4.  Ministers  ought  not 
to  be  at  large,  but  should  have  each  charge  of  one  particular  flock.  5. 
No  person  ought  to  solicit  or  stand  as  a  candidate  for  the  ministry.  6. 
Ministers  ought  not  to  be  made  and  appointed  by  the  sole  authority  of 
bishops ;  much  less  in  a  study  or  other  private  place ;  but  the  election 
ought  to  be  made  by  the  church.  These  reformations  being  effected, 
every  one  should  labour  in  his  calling :  the  magistrate  should  act  by 
his  authority, — the  ministry  by  the  word, — and  all  by  their  prayers.'' 

These  propositions  the  vice-chancellor  May  admonished  him  to 
revoke,  and,  on  his  refusal,  punished  him  by  '<  the  subtraction  of  his 
stipend,"  and  so  he  continued  in  his  lecture  that  year ;  but  the  next 
year  Dr  Whitgift,  being  vice-chancellor  and  armed  with  authority, 
summoned  Cartwright  before  him,  requiring  '*  his  absolute  answer, 
whether  he  did  mind  to  teach  his  auditor's  oUierwise,  revoking  what  he 
had  before  taught,  or  would  abide  in  the  maintenance  of  the  same  ?" 

Cartwright,  in  reply,  avowed  boldly  that  *<  the  propositions  were  what 
he  had  openly  taught,  and  still  continued  determined  to  maintain  and 
dt?fend."     On  receivuig  this  decided  answer,  Whitgift  proceeded  to 

Period.]  THOMAS  CARTWKIGHT.  223 

pronounce  sentence  of  deposition  on  him,  whereby  he  was  removed 
irom  his  professorship  and  prohibited  from  preaching  within  the  university 
and  its  jurisdiction.  The  propositions  said  to  be  dangerous  and  seditious, 
gathered  from  his  lectures  and  private  coDTersations,  were  sent  to  court 
by  Whitgift  to  *  incense*  the  queen  and  chancellor  against  Cartwright. 
One  of  the  charges  against  him  was  that  he  was  guilty  of  perjury. 
This,  however,  vanishes  into  a  mere  pretext  when  it  is  found  that  the 
accusation  relates  to  Cartwright's  remaining  only  in  deacon's  orders 
when  the  statutes  of  the  college  required  that  he  should  proceed  to 
priest's  orders :  yet  long  aflerwards,  Whitgift  insisted  that  he  had  ex* 
pelled  Cartwright  for  perjury. 

On  his  expulsion  from  the  university,  Cartwright  was  received  into 
tiie  houses  of  his  private  friends  and  supported  by  them,  at  the  same 
time  employing  his  time  carefully  as  a  tutor  to  their  children.  At 
length  he  found  it  prudent  to  withdraw  to  the  continent,  where  he 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  Beza  and  other  eminent  scholars  and 
divines.  He  was  ultimately  induced  to  accept  the  office  of  minister  of  the 
English  merchants  at  Antwerp,  and  afterwards  removed  to  Middleburgh, 
where  he  remained  about  three  years.  After  an  absence  of  about  five 
years,  he  returned  to  England. 

Controversies  on  the  subject  of  reformation  then  running  high,  Cart- 
wright soon  took  a  leading  part  in  them  against  his  old  opponent, 
Wliitgift,  who  had  answered  '  the  Admonition  to  the  Parliament,'  for 
which  work  the  principal  authors.  Field  and  Wilcocks,  were  suffering 
rigorous  imprisonment  in  Newgate.  To  this  answer,  Cartwright  replied 
in  a  quarto  volume,  and  gained  great  credit  for  the  performance,  his 
enemies  themselves  being  among  those  who  expressed  encomiums  on 
the  ability  he  displayed.  But  for  that  very  cause  it  was  deemed  the 
more  important  to  get  the  work  suppressed  and  its  author  chastised. 
To  this  end,  December  11th,  1573,  a  warrant  was  issued  from  the  high 
commission  court  for  the  apprehension  of  Mr  Cartwright,  who  notwith- 
standing, escaped  their  hands  and  fled  to  Heidelberg.  We  have  already 
noticed  the  progress  of  this  controversy  in  our  account  of  Cartwright's 
archiepiscopal  opponent. 

While  on  the  continent,  Cartwright  became  once  more  the  minister 
of  the  English  fiu^ory  at  Antwerp.  After  passing  some  years  there, 
disease  had  so  encroached  on  his  constitution,  that  his  physicians 
thought  he  had  no  other  chance  of  prolonging  his  life  than  by  re- 
turning to  England.  He  ventured  to  solicit  of  the  lords  of  the  council, 
— through  the  earl  of  Leicester  and  the  lord-treasurer  Burleigh, — per- 
mission to  return  to  his  native  country  without  being  liable  to  molesta- 
tion. Leicester  had  made  respectful  and  honourable  mention  of  him 
>n  parliament  the  preceding  session,  and  now  both  he  and  Cecil  repre- 
sented his  condition  to  the  queen,  but  were  unable  to  assure  Cartwright 
of  her  protection.  He  resolved,  nevertheless,  to  return  in  the  year 
1584-5,  but  he  had  scarcely  landed,  when  he  was  apprehended  and 
imprisoned  on  the  authority  of  Aylmer,  then  bishop  of  London ;  but  the 
government  evinced  its  disapprobation  of  so  harsh  a  measure.  In  this 
dilemma,  the  bishop  resolved  to  indict  him  in  the  name  of  the  queen. 
Her  majesty  then  became  offended,  and  Aylmer  was  obliged  to  write  to 
the  lord-treasurer  to  intercede  on  his  behalf  in  the  following  terms  : — 
^  I  understand  myself  to  be  in  some  displeasure  with  her  Majesty  about 


Mr  Cartwrighty  because  I  sent  word  to  your  lordships  by  the  clerk  of 
the  council  that  I  committed  him  by  her  majesty's  conmiandment 
Alas  I  my  lord,  in  what  a  dilemma  stood  I,  that,  if  I  had  not  showed 
that  warrant,  I  should  have  had  all  your  displeasures,  which  I  was  not 
able  to  bear :  and  using  it  for  my  shield  (being  not  forbidden  by  her 
majesty)  I  am  blamed  for  not  taking  upon  me  a  matter  wherein  she 
herself  would  not  be  seen.  Weil,  I  leave  it  to  God  and  to  your  wisdom 
to  consider  in  what  a  dangerous  place  of  service  I  am  I  But  God, 
whom  I  serve,  and  in  whose  hands  the  hearts  of  princes  are,  as  the 
rivers  of  waters,  can  and  will  turn  all  to  the  best,  and  stir  up  such 
honourable  friends  as  you  are,  to  appease  her  highness's  indignation." 
Cartwright  thus  shielded  from  the  violence  of  his  episcopal  adver- 
saries, enjoyed  some  needful  repose,  which  was  not,  however,  unproduc- 
tive ;  nor,  in  truth,  was  it  possible  that  the  learning  and  abilities  of 
juch  a  man  could  be  effectually  obscured.  Indeed,  so  much  were  they 
held  in  esteem,  really  by  hb  adversaries,  and  avowedly  by  the  most 
learned  among  the  reformed,  that,  on  the  one  hand,  Cartwright's  workj> 
were  committed  to  the  hands  of  the  celebrated  Richard  Hooker  and 
his  assistants,  to  be  answered  by  the  work  on  ecclesiastical  polity ;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  Cartwright  was  pointed  out  by  Beza  as  the  fittest 
person  in  England  to  defend  the  protestant  cause  against  the  perver- 
sions of  the  papists  in  the  Rhemish  translation  of  the  New  Testament. 
This  work,  therefore,  to  the  honour  of  Cartwright,  and  the  successful 
defence  of  truth,  was  placed,  by  authority  of  the  council,  in  Cart- 
wright's  hands ;  and  the  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds  was  transmitted 
by  the  lord-treasurer  toward  the  expense  of  books  and  other  needful 
assistance  in  the  work.  This  important  duty,  however,  was  not  in  agree- 
ment with  the  will  of  Archbishop  Whitgift,  who,  on  learning  that  Cart- 
wright was  thus  employed,  immediately  prohibited  him  from  proceeding. 
This  mandate  he  found  it  necessary  at  first  to  comply  with,  but  after- 
wards he  made  considerable  progress  in  the  work,  to  the  great  satis&c- 
tion  of  the  learned  among  the  reformed. 

Mr  Cartwright  was  now  become  a  fiunily  man,  with  a  wife  and  se- 
veral daughters.  He  married  the  sister  of  Mr  John  Stubbs,  student  of 
Lincoln's  Inn,  who  suffered  the  amputation  of  his  right  hand  for  the 
offence  of  publishing  a  book  against  the  queen's  projected  marriage. 
His  patrimonial  estate  at  Waddon,  in  Cambridgeshire,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  sell,  and  his  wife  obtained  some  profit  from  the  business  of 
malt-making :  but  Cartwright  had  not  chosen  the  path  to  ecclesiastical 
preferment.  He  was,  however,  after  a  period  of  domestic  difficulty 
from  the  persecution  of  his  enemies,  and  increasing  bodily  infirmities, 
taken  under  the  patronage  of  the  earl  of  Leicester,  and  by  him  ap- 
pointed about  the  year  1586,  to  be  master  of  the  hospital  which  the 
earl  had  founded  at  Warwick.  To  this  office  was  attached  a  stipend  of 
one  hundred  pounds  per  annum,  which  was  much  lessened  after  the 
earl's  death  in  1588.  To  this  patron,  and*  to  his  brother,  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  Cartwright  was  indebted  for  much  protection  and  coun- 
tenance ;  and  the  earl  of  Leicester  offered  him  the  provost-ship  of  Eton 
college,  which  he  declined.  Warwick,  therefore,  became  his  home, 
though  he  had  long  intervals  of  absence,  through  the  arbitrary  proceed- 
ings of  his  enemies. 

In  November  1590,  he  was  summoned  up  from  Warwick  to  appear 


I'Baioi).]  THOMAS  CARTWRIGHT.  225 

before  the  star-chamber.  With  Edmund  Snape  and  other  puritan  mi- 
nistei^,  he  was  indicted  '<  fbr  setting  up  a  new  discipline  and  a  new 
form  of  worship,  and  subscribing  their  hands  to  it."  The  whole  were 
coiaraitted  to  the  Fleet  prison,  and  there  they  remained  through  the 
winter.  In  the  spring,  Cartwright  pleading  his  age  and  infirmities, 
**  feeling/'  as  he  says,  ''  the  gout  and  stone  both  to  grow  fast  upon  me, 
I  applied  to  Lord  Burleigh  for  relief,  but  without  success."  In  May 
1591,  Cartwright  was  sent  for  by  the  bishop  to  appear  before  him  and 
Dr  Bancroft,  and  some  others  of  the  ecclesiastical  commission.  On 
this  occasion,  there  was  a  long  discussion  on  the  subject  of  the  ex  officio 
oath,  which  the  court  required  him  to  take,  and  which  he  refused,  as 
requiring  him  to  swear  indefinitely  that  he  would  answer  any  and 
every  thing  demanded  of  him.  On  his  refiisal  he  was  remanded  to 
prison,  where  he  and  his  fellow  prisoners  for  conscience  sake  remained 
two  years  without  any  further  process,  or  being  admitted  to  bail.  The 
king  of  Scotland,  who  had  so  high  an  opinion  of  Cartwright,  that,  in 
1580,  he  invited  him  to  accept  a  professorship  in  the  university  of  St 
Andrews,  applied  to  Elizabeth  in  vain  on  behalf  of  Mr  Cartwright  and 
his  brethren  :  there  was  no  relenting. 

After  various  applications  for  release  on  bail,  the  sufierers  were  in- 
duced to  unite  in  a  petition  to  the  fountain*head  of  ecclesiastical  power 
— the  archbishop  Whitgift;.  To  this  petition  he  replied,  that  if  they 
would  renounce  their  sentiments  and  their  assemblies  as  unlawful  and 
seditious,  they  might  expect  his  compliance.  Turning  with  despair 
from  this  Insult,  they  resolved  to  petition  the  queen.  What  reception 
this  petition  met  with  is  not  shown,  nor  when  the  petitioners  obtained 
their  release  ;  but  it  is  understood  not  to  have  been  soon.  However, 
at  length,  on  a  promise  to  be  quiet,  .the  archbishop  consented  that  they 
should  be  discharged — though  on  this  condition  that,  in  default  of  their 
amendment,  they  should  appear  again  upon  twenty  days  waining  being 

In  1592,  soon  after  Cartwright's  release,  Dr  Cosin,  dean  of  the 
arches,  and  official  principal  to  Archbishop  Whitgift,  wrote  a  book 
against  Hacket,  Coppinger,  and  Aithington,  the  design  of  which  was 
to  bring  odium  on  the  puritans  for  the  wild  fanaticism  of  those  persons ; 
and  especially  to  represent  Cartwright  as  privy  to  designs  of  sedition 
and  treason.  Happily  for  him,  there  was  no  shadow  of  a  proof  for  this 
vile  insinuation.  On  his'  return  to  Warwick,  Mr  Cartwright  resumed 
his  pastoral  and  other  ministerial  duties  with  great  earnestness,  so  as  to 
draw  down  upon  him  further  dislike  from  the  ecclesiastical  powers.  At 
length,  being  silenced  by  the  bishops,  he  was  requested  by  the  Lord 
Zouch,  governor  of  Guernsey,  to  go  with  him  to  that  island,  where  he 
continued  at  least  till  1596. 

Attempts  have  been  made  to  show  that,  after  all,  Cartwright  re- 
pented of  his  puritan  principles  in  his  old  age,  and  that  he  confessed 
himself  guilty  of  the  sin  of  schism :  of  this  there  is  no  probable  proof. 
His  age  and  infirmities  naturally  withdrew  him  from  the  scene  of  po- 
lemicsd  strife,  and  disposed  him  to  prepare  more  assiduously  for  his  de- 
parture hence.  ^  It  is  said,  that  at  the  close  of  life  he  possessed  wealth 
• — the  reward  of  his  privations  and  suff*erings.  We  may  admit  the  truth 
of  such  statemcut  without  allowing  the  imputation  oF  guilt:  whatever 
he  possessed,   he   was  not  avaricious,  for  we  are  told  that  it  was  his 

If.  2   F 

custom  **  OD  the  Sabbath  to  distribute  money  to  the  poor  of  the  town  of 
Warwick,  beside  what  he  gare  to  the  prisoners," 

He  continued  his  assiduity  in  his  studies  even  in  old  age.  He  usually 
rose  at  two,  three,  and  at  the  latest  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  sum- 
mer and  winter,  notwithstanding  that  his  infirmities  compelled  him  to 
study  continually  on  his  knees*  Nor  would  he  intermit  his  minbterial 
labours,  but  persisted  to  preach,  when  many  times  he  could  scarcely 
creep  into  the  pulpit*  He  died  on  the  27th  of  December,  1693,  aged 
sixty-eight  To  conclude  in  the  words  of  Fuller  concerning  this  distin- 
guished man : — **  His  life  may  be  presumed  most  pious ;  it  concerning 
Um  to  be  strict  in  his  conversation,  who  so  stickled  for  the  reformation 
of  all  abuses  in  the  church.  An  excellent  scholar ;  puro  Latinist ;  his 
traveb  advantaging  the  ready  use  thereof;  accurate  Grecian  ;  exact 
Hebrician,  as  his  comments  on  the  Proverbs  and  other  works  do  suffi* 
cientiy  testify." 

Beside  those  already  mentioned,  Cartwright  wrote  several  works 
which  were  published  alter  his  death :  viz.  ^  ^etaphrasis  et  Homiliae  in 
librum  Solomon  is  qui  inscribitur  Ecclesiastes,'  1604,  4to*  '  Commen- 
tary on  the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians,'  1612,.  4to.  *  A  Body  of  Divinity,' 
1616,  4to.  *  Commentaria  Practica  in  totam  Historiam  Evangelicam, 
ex  quatuor  Evangelistis  harmonic^  concinnatam,'  1680,  4to.  Et  idem, 
sub.  tit.  *  Harmonia  Evangelica  Commentario,*  &c,  1647*  *  Com- 
mentarii  succincti  et  dilucidi  in  Proverbia  Salomonis,'  1638, 4to.  *  Di 
rectory  of  Church  Government,*  1644,  4to.  * 


BORiN  A.  D.  1442. — ^DIED  A.  D.  1519. 

William  Grocyn,  one  of  the  earliest  restorers  of  learning  in  Eng« 
land,  was  born  at  Bristol  in  1442,  and  educated  in  the  grammar  school 
of  Winchester.  He  was  elected  thence  to  New  college,  Oxford,  in  1467, 
and,  in  1479,  was  presented  by  the  warden  and  fellows  to  one  of  their 
rectories  in  Buckinghamshire.  He  still  continued  to  reside  at  Oxford, 
however,  and  was  appointed  divinity  reader  by  the  society  of  Magda- 
lene college,  in  which  capacity  he  was  honoured  to  hold  a  public  dispu- 
tation before  Richard  III.,  on  the  occasion  of  that  prince  visiting 
Oxford.  In  1485  he  was  presented  to  a  prebendal  stall  in  Lincoln 
cathedral ;  and,  three  years  afterwards,  he  set  out  on  foreign  travel,  ani- 
mated, it  would  seem,  by  the  desire  of  acquiring  knowledge,  and  espe* 
cially  desirous  of  perfecting  himself  in  the  Greek  language,  in  which, 
though  regarded  as  one  of  tbo  best  Greek  and  Latin  scholars  in  Eng- 
land, he  felt  and  regretted  his  deficiency.  He  was  now  forty-six 
years  of  age,  yet  he  went  in  quest  of  learning  with  all  the  readiness  and 

•  See  Memoirs  of  Cartwright,  prefixed  to  Hanbury*s  edition  of  Hooker**  Ecclesias- 
tical Politr,  8  vols,  8vo,  1830. 

Pbriod.]  JOHN  COLET,  227 

buoyancy  of  youth,  and,  in  company  with  several  of  his  eountrymcnt 
became  the  pupil  of  Angelo  Politian,  the  most  elegant  Latin ist  of  his 
day,  and  of  Demetrius  Chaicondylas,  one  of  those  learned  men  who  had 
fled  fron)  Constantinople  when  it  was  taken  by  the  Turks,     To  the  prt> 
lections  of  these  two  excellent  instructors  he  devoted  two  years,  and  then 
returned  to  Oxford,  where  he  commenced  teaching  the  Greek  language, 
and  was  tUe  first  who  introduced  the  new  pronunciation  of  it«     While 
he  was  thus  engaged,  the  celebrated  Erasmus  visited  Oxford,  and  be- 
came one  of  Groeyn's  pupils.     The  foreign  scholar  was  in  straitened 
circumstances,  but  the  professor,  though  not  rich  himself,  kindly  took 
him  into  his  house,  and  supplied  his  wants  from  his  own  limited  mean^ 
Erasmus  was  no.t  ungrateFuil,  and  took  every  opportunity  which  subse- 
quently offered  itself  of  extolling  the  learning  and  hospitality  of  his  friend. 
Groeyn's  favourite  classic  was  Aristotle ;  and  he  had  formed  a  design,  iu 
conjunction  with  his- friends,  Latimer  and  Linacre,  of  translating  the  whole 
works  oFthat  philosopher,  but  they  did  not  pursue  it.  When  Colet,  dean 
of  St  Paul's,  introduced  the  practice  of  prelecting  on  a  portion  of  the 
Scriptures  in  his  cathedral*  he  engaged  Grocyn  to  perform  that  duty, 
as  the  fittest  for  the  task  in  England,     While  thus  engaged,  Grocyn 
commenced  a  series  of  lectures  on  the  book  of  Dionysius,  called  *  Hie- 
rarchia  Ecclesiastica,'  and  took  occasion  to  preface  his  coui'se,  by  de- 
claiming, with  great  warmth,  against  all  those  who  denied  or  doubted 
the  authority  of  that  work ;  but,  after  he  had  continued  to  read  a  few 
weeks  he  began  to  doubt  the  authenticity  of  that  work  himself,  and, 
having  finally  convinced  himself  that  it  was  spurious,  he  openly  and 
frankly  confessed  that  he  had  been  in.  error,  and  recalled  his  former 
opinion.     He  died  at  Maidstone,  in  1519,  of  a  paralytic  affection,  which 
had  made  him  outlive  his  faculties,     A  Latin  epistle  of  his  to  Aldus 
Manutius  is  prefixed  to  Linacre's  translation  of  '  Proclus  de  Sphaera.' 
Bale,  Leland,  and  Tanner  mention  some  other  pieces  of  his,  but  they  are 
few,     Erasmus  says  he  was  of  so  refined  a  taste,  that  he  never  could 
satisfy  himself  with  any  thing  which  he  wrote,  and  was  not  easily  per- 
suaded to  handle  his  pen. 

DORN  A.  ».  1466. DIED  A.  D.    1519, 

This  learned  English  divine  was  the  first  bom  of  the  eleven  sons  and 
eleven  daughters  of  Sir  Henry  Colet,  mayor  of  London,  He  was  born 
in  1466,'  and  received  the  rudiments  of  education  in  London.  In  1483 
he  was  entered  of  Magdalene  college,  Oxford,  and  spent  seven  years  at 
the  university,  chiefly  in  the  study  of  logic  and  philosophy.  Greek  was 
not  cultivated  at  Oxford  while  Colet  resided  there,  and  the  proverb, 
'  Cave  a  Grsecis,  ne  fias  haereticus,*  was  still  current  at  that  seat  of  learn- 
ing, for  Linacre,  Grocyn,  Erasmus,  and  their  associates  had  not  yet 
broken  ground  against  the  Trojans,  as  the  opponents  of  Greek  learning 
quaintly  called  themselves ;  but  Colet  continued  to  make  himself  ac- 
quainted Jtvith  some  of  the  Greek  writers,  by  means  of  a  Latin  transia* 
tion,  and  subsequently  obtained  such  instruction,  during  four  years  of 
foreign  travel,  as  enabled  him  to  master  the  originals  themselves.  Colet 

228  LITERATIT  SERIES.  [Fouetb 

appears  to  have  remained  on  the  continent  from  1493  to  1497.  In 
Paris  he  became  acquainted  with  Budaeus,  Erasmus,  Politian,  and  seve-' 
ral  of  the  leading  scholars  of  the  age,  in  whose  society  be  perfected  his 
acquaintance  with  the  classics,  and  improved  himself  greatly  in  the 
belles  lettres  of  the  age.  On  his  return  to  England,  he  spent  some  time 
at  court,  and  narrowly  escaped  giving  himself  up  to  the  attractions  and 
dissipations  of  fashionable  life ;  for,  to  the  qualifications  of  a  scholar,  he 
added  the  habits  and  accomplishments  of  a  gentleman,  and  his  natural 
disposition  was  by  no  means  fevourable  to  the  life  of  a  recluse  and  a  scho