In the month of November of the same year in which the queen did visit
Lord and Lady Surrey at the Charter House, a person, who mentioned not
his name, delivered into the porter's hands at our gate a letter for
me, which I found to be from my good father, and which I do here
transcribe, as a memorial of his great piety toward God, and tender
love for me his unworthy child.
"MY DEARLY BELOVED DAUGHTER (so he),--Your comfortable letter has
not a little cheered me; and the more so that this present one is
like to be the last I shall be able to write on this side of the
sea, if it so happen that it shall please God to prosper my intent,
which is to pass over into Flanders at the first convenient
opportunity: for the stress of the times, and mine own earnest
desire to live within the compass of a religious life, have moved me
to forsake for a while this realm, and betake myself to a place
which shall afford opportunity and a sufficiency of leisure for the
prosecution of my design. The comfortable report Edmund made of thy
health, increased height, and good condition, as also of thy
exceeding pleasant and affectionate behavior to him, as deputed from
thy poor father to convey to thee his paternal blessing, together
with such tokens as a third person may exhibit of that most natural
and tender affection which he bears to thee, his sole child, whom
next to God he doth most entirely value and love,--of which charge
this good youth assured me he did acquit himself as my true son in
Christ, which indeed he now is,--and my good brother's letter and
thine, which both do give proof of the exceeding great favor shown
toward thee in his house, wherein he doth reckon my Constance not so
much a niece (for such be his words) as a most cherished daughter,
whose good qualities and lively parts have so endeared her to his
family, that the greatest sorrow which could befal them should be to
lose her company; which I do not here recite for to awaken in thee
motions of pride or a vain conceit of thine own deserts, but rather
gratitude to those whose goodness is so great as to overlook thy
defects and magnify thy merits;--Edmund's report, I say, coupled with
these letters, have yielded me all the contentment I desire at this
time, when I am about to embark on a perilous voyage, of which none
can foresee the course or the end; one in which I take the cross of
Christ as my only staff; his words, "Follow me," for my motto; and
his promise to all such as do confess him before men, as the assured
anchor of my hope.
"Our ingenuous youth informed thee (albeit I doubt not in such wise
as to conceal, if it had been possible, his own ability, which, with
his devotedness, do exceed praise) how he acquitted both me and
others of much trouble and imminent danger by his fortunate despatch
with that close prisoner. I had determined to place him with some of
my acquaintance, lest perhaps he should return, not without some
danger of his soul, to his own friends; but when he understood my
resolution, he cried out with like words to those of St. Lawrence,
'Whither goeth my master without his servant? Whither goeth my
father without his son?' and with tears distilling from his eyes, he
humbly entreated he might go together with me, saying, as it were
with St. Peter, 'Master, I am ready to go with you to prison,
yea to death;' but, forecasting his future ability, as also to try
his spirit a little further, I made him answer it was impossible; to
which our Edmund replied, 'Alas! and is it impossible? Shall my
native soil restrain free will? or home-made laws alter devout
resolutions? Am I not young? Can I not study? May I not in time get
what you now have got--learning for a scholar? yea, virtue for a
priest, perhaps; and so at length obtain that for which you now are
ready? Direct me the way, I beseech you; and let me, if you please,
be your precursor. Tell me what I shall do, or whither I must go;
and for the rest, God, who knows my desire, will provide and supply
the want. Can it be possible that he who clothes the lilies of the
field, and feeds the fowls of the air, will forsake him who forsakes
all to fulfil his divine precept, "Seek first the kingdom of God and
his justice, and all other things shall be given to you?"' Finally,
he ended, to my no small admiration, by reciting the words of our
Saviour, 'Whosoever shall forsake home, or brethren, or sisters, or
father, or mother, for my sake and the gospel's, shall receive a
hundredfold and possess life everlasting.'
"By these impulses, often repeated with great fervor of spirit, I
perceived God Almighty's calling in him, and therefore at last
condescended to let him take his adventures, procuring him
commendations to such friends beyond seas as should assist him in
his purpose, and furnishing him with money sufficient for such a
journey; not judging it to be prudent to keep him with me, who have
not ability to warrant mine own passage; and so noted a recusant,
that I run a greater risk to be arrested in any port where I embark.
And so, in all love and affection, we did part; and I have since had
intelligence, for the which I do return most humble and hearty
thanks to God, that he hath safely crossed the seas, and has now
reached a sure harbor, where his religious desires may take effect.
And now, daughter Constance, mine own good child, fare thee well!
Pray for thy poor father, who would fain give thee the blessing of
the elder as of the younger son--Jacob's portion and Esau's also.
But methinks the blessings of this world be not at the present time
for the Catholics of this land; and so we must needs be content, for
our children as for ourselves (and a covetous man he is which should
not therewith be satisfied), with the blessings our Lord did utter
on the mountain, and mostly with that in which he doth say, 'Blessed
are ye when men shall persecute you, and revile you, and say all
manner of evil against you falsely, for my name's sake; for great is
your reward in heaven.'
"Your loving father in natural affection and ten thousand times more
in the love of Christ, H. S."
Oh, what a gulf of tenfold separation did those words "beyond seas"
suggest betwixt that sole parent and his poor child! Thoughts travel
not with ease beyond the limits which nature hath set to this isle;
and what lies beyond the watery waste wherewith Providence hath
engirdled our shores offers no apt images to the mind picturing the
invisible from the visible, as it is wont to do with home-scenes,
where one city or one landscape beareth a close resemblance to
another. And if, in the forsaking of this realm, so much danger did
lie, yea, in the very ports whence he might sail, so that I, who
should otherwise have prayed that the winds might detain him, and the
waves force him back on his native soil, was constrained to supplicate
that they should assist him to abandon it,--how much greater,
methought, should be the perils of his return, when, as he indeed
hoped, a mark should be set on him which in our country dooms men to a
cruel death! Many natural tears I shed at this parting, which until
then had not seemed so desperate and final; and for a while
would not listen to the consolations which were offered by the good
friends who were so tender to me, but continued to wander about in a
disconsolate manner in the garden, or passionately to weep in my own
chamber, until Muriel, the sovereign mistress of comfort to others,
albeit ever ailing in her body, and contemned by such as dived not
through exterior deformity into the interior excellences of her soul,
with sweet compulsion and authoritative arguments drawn from her
admirable faith and simple devotion, rekindled in mine the more noble
sentiments sorrow had obscured, not so much through diverting, as by
elevating and sweetening, my thoughts to a greater sense of the
goodness of God in calling my father, and peradventure Edmund also, to
so great an honor as the priesthood, and never more honorable than in
these days, wherein it oftentimes doth prove the road to martyrdom.
In December of that year my Lord and my Lady Surrey, by the Duke of
Norfolk's desire, removed for some weeks to Kenninghall for change of
air, and also Lady Lumley, his grace judging them to be as yet too
young to keep house alone. My lord's brothers and Mistress Bess, with
her governess, were likewise carried there. Lady Surrey wrote from
that seat, that, were it not for the duke's imprisonment and constant
fears touching his life, she should have had great contentment in that
retirement, and been most glad to have tarried there, if it had
pleased God, so long as she lived, my lord taking so much pleasure in
field-sports, and otherwise so companionable, that he often offered to
ride with her; and in the evenings they did entertain themselves with
books, chiefly poetry, and sometimes played at cards. They had but few
visitors, by reason of the disgrace and trouble his grace was in at
that time; only such of their neighbors as did hunt and shoot with the
earl her husband; mostly Sir Henry Stafford and Mr. Rookwood's two
sons, whom she commended; the one for his good qualities and honest
carriage, and the other for wit and learning; as also Sir Hammond
l'Estrange, a gentleman who stayed no longer away from Kenninghall,
she observed, than thereunto compelled by lack of an excuse for
tarrying if present, or returning when absent. He often procured to be
invited by my lord, who used to meet him out of doors, and frequently
carried him back with him to dine or to sup, and often both.
"And albeit" (so my lady wrote) "I doubt not but he doth set a
reasonable value on my lord's society,--who, although young enough to
be his son, is exceedingly conversable and pleasant, as every one who
knows him doth testify,--and mislikes not, I ween, the good cheer, or
the wine from his grace's cellar; yet I warrant thee, good Constance,
'tis not for the sake only of our poor company or hospitable table
that this good knight doth haunt us, but rather from the passion I
plainly see he hath conceived for our Milicent since a day when he
hurt his arm by a fall not far from hence, and I procured she should
dress it with that rare ointment of thine, which verily doth prove of
great efficacy in cases where the skin is rubbed off. Methinks the
wound in his arm was then transplanted into his heart, and the good
man so bewitched with the blue eyes and dove-like countenance of his
chirurgeon, that he has fallen head-over-ears in love, and is, as I
hope, minded to address her in a lawful manner. His wound did take an
exceeding long time in healing, to the no small discredit of thy
ointment; for he came several days to have it dressed, and I could not
choose but smile when at last our sweet practitioner did ask him, in
an innocent manner, if the wound did yet smart, for indeed she could
see no appearance in it but what betokened it to be healed. He
answered, 'There be wounds, Mistress Milicent, which smart, albeit no
outward marks of such suffering do show themselves.' 'Ay,' quoth
Milicent, 'but for such I be of opinion further dressing is needless;
and with my lady's licence, I will furnish you, sir, with a liquid
which shall strengthen the skin, and so relieve the aching, if so you
be careful to apply it night and morning to the injured part, and to
cork the bottle after using it.' 'My memory is so bad, fair
physician,' quoth the knight, 'that I am like to forget the
prescription.' She answered, he should stand the bottle so as it
should meet his eyes when he rose, and then he must needs remember it.
"And so broke off the discourse. But when he is here I notice how his
eyes do follow her when she sets the table for primero, or works at
the tambour-frame, or plays with Bess, to whom he often talks as she
sits on _her_ knees, who, if I mistake not, shall be, one of these
days, Lady l'Estrange, and is as worthy to be so well married as any
girl in the kingdom, both as touching her birth and her exceeding
great virtue and good disposition. He is an extreme Protestant, and
very bitter against Catholics; but as she, albeit mild in temper, is
as firmly settled in the new religion as he is, no difference will
exist between them on a point in which 'tis most of all to be desired
husbands and wives should be agreed. Thou mayst think that I have been
over apt to note the signs of this good knight's passion, and to draw
deductions from such tokens as have appeared of it, visible maybe to
no other eyes than mine; but, trust me, Constance, those who do
themselves know what 'tis to love with an engrossing affection are
quick to mark the same effects in others. When Phil is in the room, I
find it a hard matter at times to restrain mine eyes from gazing on
that dear husband, whom I do so entirely love that I have no other
pleasure in life but in his company. And not to seem to him or to
others too fond, which is not a beseeming thing even in a wife, I
study to conceal my constant thinking on him by such devices as
cunningly to provoke others to speak of my lord, and so appear only to
follow whereunto my own desire doth point, or to propose questions,--a
pastime wherein he doth excel,--and so minister to mine own pride in
him without direct flattery, or in an unbecoming manner setting forth
his praise. And thus I do grow learned in the tricks of true
affection, and to perceive in such as are in love what mine own heart
doth teach me to be the signals of that passion."
So far my lady; and not long after, on the first day of February, I
had a note from her, written in great distraction of mind at the
Charter House, where she and all his grace's children had returned in
a sudden manner on the hearing that the queen had issued a warrant for
the duke's execution on the next Monday. Preparations were made with
the expectation of all London, and a concourse of many thousands to
witness it, the tread of whose feet was heard at night, like to the
roll of muffled drums, along the streets; but on the Sunday, late in
the night, the queen's majesty entered into a great misliking that the
duke should die the next day, and sent an order to the sheriffs to
forbear until they should hear further. His grace's mother, the
dowager countess, and my Lady Berkeley his sister (now indeed lowering
her pride to most humble supplication), and my Lord Arundel from his
sick-bed, and the French ambassador, together with many others, sued
with singular earnestness to her majesty for his life, who, albeit she
had stayed the execution of his sentence, would by no means recall it.
I hasted to the Charter House, Mistress Ward going with me, and both
were admitted into her ladyship's chamber, with whom did sit that day
the fairest picture of grief I ever beheld--the Lady Margaret Howard,
who for some months had resided with the Countess of Sussex, who was a
very good lady to her and all these afflicted children. Albeit Lady
Surrey had often greatly commended this young lady, and styled her so
rare a piece of perfection that no one could know and not admire
her, the loveliness of her face, nobility of her figure, and
attractiveness of her manners exceeded my expectations. The sight of
these sisters minded me then of what Lady Surrey had written when they
were yet children, touching my Lord Surrey, styling them "two twin
cherries on one stalk;" and methought, now that the lovely pair had
ripened into early maturity, their likeness in beauty (though
differing in complexion) justified the saying. Lady Margaret greeted
us as though we had not been strangers, and in the midst of her great
and natural sorrow showed a grateful sense of the share we did take in
a grief which methinks was deeper in her than in any other of these
mourners.
Oh, what a period of anxious suspense did follow that first reprieve!
what alternations of hope and fear! what affectionate letters were
exchanged between that loving father and good master and his sorrowful
children and servants; now writing to Mr. Dyx, his faithful steward:
"Farewell, good Dyx! your service hath been so faithful unto me, as
I am sorry that I cannot make proof of my good-will to recompense
it. I trust my death shall make no change in you toward mine, but
that you will faithfully perform the trust that I have reposed in
you. Forget me, and remember me in mine. Forget not to counsel and
advise Philip and Nan's unexperienced years; the rest of their
brothers' and sisters' well-doing resteth much upon their virtuous
and considerate dealings. God grant them his grace, which is able to
work better in them than my natural well-meaning heart can wish unto
them. Amen. And so, hoping of your honesty and faithfulness when I
am dead, I bid you this my last farewell. T. H."
Now to another trusty friend and honest dependent:
"Good friend George, farewell. I have no other tokens to send my
friends but my books; and I know how sorrowful you are, amongst the
rest, for my hard hap, whereof I thank God; because I hope his
merciful chastisement will prepare me for a better world. Look well
throughout this book, and you shall find the name of duke very
unhappy. I pray God it may end with me, and that others may speed
better hereafter. But if I might have my wish, and were in as good a
state as ever you knew me, yet I would wish for a lower degree. Be a
friend, I pray you, to mine; and do my hearty commendations to your
good wife and to gentle Mr. Dennye. I die in the faith that you have
ever known me to be of. Farewell, good friend.
"Yours dying, as he was living,
"NORFOLK."
These letters and some others did pass from hand to hand in that
afflicted house; and sometimes hope and sometimes despair prevailed in
the hearts of the great store of relatives and friends which often
assembled there to confer on the means of softening the queen's anger
and moving her to mercy; one time through letters from the king of
France and other princes, which was an ill shot, for to be so
entreated by foreign potentates did but inflame her majesty's anger
against the duke; at others, by my Lord Sussex and my Lord Arundel, or
such persons in her court as nearly approached her highness and could
deal with her when she was merry and chose to condescend to their
discourse. But the wind shifts not oftener than did the queen's mind
at that time, so diverse were her dispositions toward this nobleman,
and always opposed to such as appeared in those who spoke on this
topic, whether as pressing for his execution, or suing for mercy to be
extended to him. I heard much talk at that time touching his grace's
good qualities: how noble had been his spirit; how moderate his
disposition; how plain his attire; how bountiful his alms.
As the fates of many do in these days hang on the doom of one, much
eagerness was shown amongst those who haunted my uncle's house to
learn the news afloat concerning the issue of the duke's affair. Some
Catholics of note were lying in prison at that time in Norwich, most
of them friends of these gentlemen; of which four were condemned to
death at that time, and one to perpetual imprisonment and loss of all
his property for reconcilement; but whilst the Duke of Norfolk was yet
alive, they held the hope he should, if once out of prison, recover
the queen's favor and drive from their seats his and their mortal
enemies, my Lords Burleigh and Leicester. And verily the axe was held
suspended on the head of that duke for four months and more, to the
unspeakable anguish of many; and, amongst others, his aged and
afflicted mother, the Dowager Countess of Surrey, who came to London
from the country to be near her son in this extremity. Three times did
the queen issue a warrant for his death and then recalled it; so that
those trembling relatives and well-wishers in and out of his house did
look each day to hear the fatal issue had been compassed, In the month
of March, when her majesty was sick with a severe inflammation and
agonizing pain, occasioned, some said, by poison administered by
papists, but by her own physicians declared to arise from her contempt
of their prescriptions, there was a strange turmoil, I ween, in some
men's breasts, albeit silent as a storm brewing on a sultry day. Under
their breath, and with faces shaped to conceal the wish which bred the
inquiry, they asked of the queen's health; whilst others tore their
hair and beat their breasts with no affected grief, and the most part
of the people lamented her danger. Oh, what five days were those when
the shadow of death did hover over that royal couch, and men's hearts
failed them for fear, or else wildly whispered hopes such as they
durst not utter aloud,--not so much as to a close friend,--lest the
walls should have ears, or the pavement open under their feet! My God,
in thy hands lie the issues of life and death. Thou dost assign to
each one his space of existence, his length of days. Thy ways are not
as our ways, nor thy thoughts as our thoughts. She lived who was yet
to doom so many princely heads to the block, so many saintly forms to
the dungeon and the rack. She lived whose first act was to stretch
forth a hand yet weakened by sickness to sign, a fourth time, a
warrant for a kinsman's death, and once again recalled it. Each day
some one should come in with various reports touching the queen's
dispositions. Sometimes she had been heard to opine that her dangers
from her enemies were so great that justice must be done. At others
she vehemently spoke of the nearness of blood to herself, of the
superiority in honor of this duke; and once she wrote to Lord Burleigh
(a copy of this letter Lord Surrey saw in Lord Oxford's hands), "that
she was more beholden to the hinder part of her head than she dared
trust the forward part of the same;" and expressed great fear lest an
irrevocable deed should be committed. But she would not see Lord
Surrey, or suffer him to plead in person for his father's life. Yet
there were good hopes amongst his friends he should yet be released,
till one day--I mind it well, for I was sitting with Lady Surrey,
reading out loud to her, as I was often used to do--my Lord Berkeley
burst into the chamber, and cried, throwing his gloves on the table
and swearing a terrible oath:
"That woman has undone us!"
"What, the queen?" said my lady, white as a smock.
"Verily a queen," he answered gloomily. "I warrant you the Queen of
Scots hath ended as she did begin, and dragged his grace into a pit
from whence I promise you he will never now rise. A letter writ in her
cipher to the Duke of Alva hath been intercepted, in which that
luckless royal wight, ever fatal to her friends as to herself,
doth say, 'that she hath a strong party in England, and lords who
favor her cause; some of whom, albeit prisoners, so powerful, that the
Queen of England should not dare to touch their lives.' Alack! those
words, 'should not dare,' shall prove the death-warrant of my noble
brother. Cursed be the day when he did get entangled in that popish
siren's plots!"
"Speak not harshly of her, good my lord," quoth Lady Surrey, in her
gentle voice. "Her sorrows do bear too great a semblance to our own
not to bespeak from us patience in this mishap."
"Nan," said Lord Berkeley, "thou art of too mild a disposition. 'Tis
the only fault I do find with thee. Beshrew me, if my wife and thee
could not make exchange of some portion of her spirit and thy meekness
to the advantage of both. I warrant thee Phil's wife should hold a
tight hand over him."
"I read not that precept in the Bible, my lord," quoth she, smiling.
"It speaketh roundly of the duty of wives to obey, but not so much as
one word of their ruling."
"Thou hadst best preach thy theology to my Lady Berkeley," he
answered; "and then she--"
"But I pray you, my lord, is it indeed your opinion that the queen
will have his grace's life?"
"I should not give so much as a brass pin, Nan, for his present chance
of mercy at her hands," he replied sadly. And his words were justified
in the event.
Those relentless enemies of the duke, my Lords Burleigh and Leicester,
--who, at the time of the queen's illness, had stood three days and
three nights without stirring from her bedside in so great terror lest
she should die and he should compass the throne through a marriage
with the Queen of Scots, that they vowed to have his blood at any cost
if her majesty did recover,--so dealt with parliament as to move it to
send a petition praying that, for the safety of her highness and the
quieting of her realm, he should be forthwith executed. And from that
day to the mournful one of his death, albeit from the great reluctance
her majesty had evinced to have him despatched, his friends, yea unto
the last moment, lived in expectancy of a reprieve; he himself made up
his mind to die with extraordinary fortitude, not choosing to
entertain so much as the least hope of life.
One day at that time I saw my Lady Margaret mending some hose, and at
each stitch she made with her needle tears fell from her eyes. I
offered to assist her ladyship; but she said, pressing the hose to her
heart, "I thank thee, good Constance; but no other hands than mine
shall put a stitch in these hose, for they be my father's, who hath
worn them with these holes for many months, till poor Master Dyx
bethought himself to bring them here to be patched and mended, which
task I would have none perform but myself. My father would not suffer
him to procure a new pair, lest it should be misconstrued as a sign of
his hope or desire of a longer life, and with the same intent he
refuseth to eat flesh as often as the physicians do order; 'for,'
quoth he, 'why should I care to nourish a body doomed to such near
decay?'" Then, after a pause, she said, "He will not wear clothes
which have any velvet on them, being, he saith, a condemned person."
Lady Surrey took one of the hose in her hand, but Lady Margeret, with
a filial jealousy, sadly smiling, shook her head: "Nay, Nan," quoth
she, "not even to thee, sweet one, will I yield one jot or tittle of
this mean, but, in relation to him who doth own these poor hose,
exalted labor." Then she asked her sister if she had heard of the
duke's request that Mr. Fox, his old schoolmaster, should attend on
him in the Tower, to whom he desired to profess that faith he did
first ground him in.
And my Lady Surrey answered yea, that my lord had informed her of
it, and many other proofs beside that his grace sought to
prepare for death in the best manner he could think of.
"Some ill-disposed persons have said," quoth Lady Margaret, "that it
is with the intent to propitiate the queen that my father doth show
himself to be so settled in his religion, and that he is not what he
seems; but tis a slander on his grace, who hath been of this way of
thinking since he attained to the age of reason, and was never at any
time reconciled, as some have put forth."
This was the last time I did see these afflicted daughters until long
after their father's death, who was beheaded in the chapel of the
Tower shortly afterward. When the blow fell which, striking at him,
struck a no less fatal blow to the peace and well-doing of his
children, they all left the Charter House, and removed for a time into
the country, to the houses of divers relatives, in such wise as before
his death the duke had desired. A letter which I received from Lady
Surrey a few weeks after she left London doth best serve to show the
manner of this disposal, and the temper of the writer's mind at that
melancholy time.
"My OWN DEAR CONSTANCE,--It may like you to hear that your afflicted
friend is improved in bodily health, and somewhat recovered from the
great suffering of mind which the duke, their good father's death,
has caused to all his poor children--mostly to Megg and Phil and me;
for their brothers and my sister are too young greatly to grieve. My
Lord Arundel is sorely afflicted, I hear, and hath writ a very
lamentable letter to our good Lady Sussex concerning this sad
mishap. My Lady Berkeley and my Lady Westmoreland are almost
distracted with grief for the death of a brother they did singularly
love. That poor lady (of Westmoreland) is much to be pitied, for
that she is parted from her husband, maybe for ever, and has lost
two fair daughters in one year.
"My lord hath shown much affection for his father, and natural
sorrow in this sad loss; and when his last letters written a short
time before he suffered, and addressed "To my loving children,"
specially the one to Philip and Nan, reached his hands, he wept so
long and bitterly that it seemed as if his tears should never cease.
My lord is forthwith to make his chief abode at Cambridge for a year
or two; and Meg and I, with Lady Sussex, and I do hope Bess
also--albeit his grace doth appear in his letter to be otherwise
minded. But methinks he apprehended to lay too heavy a charge on
her, who is indeed a good lady to us all in this our unhappy
condition, and was loth Megg should be out of my company.
"The parting with my lord is a sore trial, and what I had not looked
to; but God's will be done; and if it be for the advantage of his
soul, as well as the advancement of his learning, he should reside
at the university, it should ill befit me to repine. And now
methinks I will transcribe, if my tears do not hinder me, his
grace's letters, which will inform thee of his last wishes better
than I could explain them; for I would have thee know how tender and
forecasting was his love for us, and the good counsel he hath left
unto his son, who, I pray to God, may always follow it. And I would
have thee likewise note one point of his advice, which indeed I
should have been better contented he had not touched upon, forasmuch
as his having done so must needs hinder that which thy fond love for
my poor self, and resolved adherence to what he calls 'blind
papistry,' doth so greatly prompt thee to desire; for if on his
blessing he doth charge us to beware of it, and then I should move
my lord to so much neglect of his last wishes as at any time to be
reconciled, bethink thee with what an ill grace I should urge on
him, in other respects, obedience to his commands, which indeed are
such as do commend themselves to any Christian soul as most wise and
profitable. And now, breaking off mine own discourse to
transcribe his words--a far more noble and worthy employment of my
pen--and praying God to bless thee, I remain thy tender and loving
friend,
"ANN SURREY."
"The Duke of Norfolk's letters to his children:
"DEAR CHILDREN,--This is the last letter that ever I think to write
to you; and therefore, if you loved me, or that you will seem
grateful to me for the special love that I have ever borne unto you,
then remember and follow these my last lessons. Oh, Philip, serve
and fear God, above all things. I find the fault in myself, that I
have (God forgive me!) been too negligent in this point. Love and
make much of your wife; for therein, considering the great adversity
you are now in, by reason of my fall, is your greatest present
comfort and relief, beside your happiness in having a wife which is
endued with so great towardness in virtue and good qualities, and in
person comparable with the best sort. Follow these two lessons, and
God will bless you; and without these, as you may see by divers
examples out of the Scripture, and also by ordinary worldly proof,
where God is not feared, all goeth to wreck; and where love is not
between the husband and wife, there God doth not prosper. My third
lesson is, that you show yourself loving and natural to your
brothers and sister and sister-in-law. Though you be very young in
years, yet you must strive with consideration to become a man; for
it is your own presence and good government of yourself that must
get friends; and if you take that course, then have I been so
careful a father unto you, as I have taken such order as you, by
God's grace, shall be well able, beside your wife's lands, to
maintain yourself like a gentleman. Marry! the world is greedy and
covetous; and if the show of the well government of yourself do not
fear and restrain their greedy appetite, it is like that, by
undirect means, they will either put you from that which law layeth
upon you, or else drive you to much trouble in trying and holding
your right. When my grandfather died, I was not much above a year
elder than you are now; and yet, I thank God, I took such order with
myself, as you shall reap the commodity of my so long passed travel,
if you do now imitate the like. Help to strengthen your young and
raw years with good counsel. I send you herewith a brief schedule,
whom I wish you to make account of as friends, and whom as servants;
and I charge you, as a father may do, to follow my direction
therein; my experience can better tell what is fit for you than your
young years can judge of. I would wish you for the present to make
your chief abode at Cambridge, which is the place fittest for you to
promote your learning in; and beside, it is not very far hence,
whereby you may, within a day's warning, be here to follow your own
causes, as occasion serveth. If, after a year or two, you spend some
time in a house of the law, there is nothing that will prove more to
your commodity, considering how for the time you shall have
continual business about your own law affairs; and thereby also, if
you spend your time well, you shall be ever after better able to
judge in your own causes. I too late repent that I followed not this
course that now I wish to you; for if I had, then my case perchance
had not been in so ill state as now it is.
"When God shall send you to those years as that it shall be fit for
you to keep house with your wife (which I had rather were sooner,
than that you should fall into ill company), then I would wish you
to withdraw yourself into some private dwelling of your own. And if
your hap may be so good as you may so live without being called to
higher degree, oh, Philip, Philip, then shall you enjoy that blessed
life which your woful father would fain have done, and never could
be so happy. Beware of high degree. To a vain-glorious, proud
stomach it seemeth at the first sweet. Look into all
chronicles, and you shall find that in the end it brings heaps of
cares, toils in the state, and most commonly in the end utter
overthrow. Look into the whole state of the nobility in times past,
and into their state now, and then judge whether my lessons be true
or no. Assure yourself, as you may see by the book of my accounts,
and you shall find that my living did hardly maintain my expenses;
for all the help that I had by Tom's lands, and somewhat by your
wife's and sister's-in-law, I was ever a beggar. You may, by the
grace of God, be a great deal richer and quieter in your low degree,
wherein I once again wish you to continue. They may, that shall wish
you the contrary, have a good meaning; but believe your father, who
of love wishes you best, and with the mind that he is at this
present fully armed to God, who sees both states, both high and low,
as it were even before his eyes. Beware of the court, except it be
to do your prince service, and that, as near as you can, in the
lowest degree, for that place hath no certainty; either a man, by
following thereof, hath too much of worldly pomp, which, in the end,
throws him down headlong, or else he liveth there unsatisfied;
either that he cannot attain for himself that he would, or else that
he cannot do for his friends as his heart desireth. Remember these
notes, and follow them; and then you, by God's help, shall reap the
commodity of them in your old years.
"If your brothers may be suffered to remain in your company, I would
be most glad thereof, because continuing together should still
increase love between you. But the world is so catching of
everything that falls, that Tom being, as I believe, after my death,
the queen's majesty's ward, shall be begged by one or another. But
yet you are sure to have your brother William left still with you,
because, poor boy, he hath nothing to feed cormorants withal; to
whom you will as well be a father as a brother; for upon my blessing
I commit him to your charge to provide for, if that which I have
assured him by law shall not be so sufficient as I mean it. If law
may take place, your sister-in-law will be surely enough conveyed to
his behoof, and then I should wish her to be brought up with some
friend of mine; as for the present I allow best of Sir Christopher
Heydon, if he will so much befriend you as to receive her to sojourn
with him; if not there in some other place, as your friends shall
best allow of. And touching the bestowing of your wife and Megg, who
I would be loth should be out of your wife's company; for as she
should be a good companion for Nan, so I commit Megg of especial
trust to her. I think good, till you keep house together, if my Lady
of Sussex might be entreated to take them to her as sojourners,
there were no place so fit considering her kindred unto you, and the
assured friend that I hope you shall find of her; beside she is a
good lady. If it will not be so brought to pass, then, by the advice
of your friends, take some other order; but in no case I would wish
you to keep any house except it be together with your wife.
"Thus I have advised you as my troubled memory can at present suffer
me. Beware of pride, stubbornness, taunting, and sullenness, which
vices nature doth somewhat kindle in you; and therefore you must
with reason and discretion make a new nature in yourself. Give not
your mind too much and too greedily to gaming; make a pastime of it,
and no toil. And lastly, delight to spend some time in reading of
the Scriptures; for therein is the whole comfort of man's life; all
other things are vain and transitory; and if you be diligent in
reading of them, they will remain with you continually, to your
profit and commodity in this world, and to your comfort and
salvation in the world to come, whither, in grace of God, I am now
with joy and consolation preparing myself. And, upon my blessing,
beware of blind papistry, which brings nothing but bondage to men's
consciences. Mix your prayers with fasting, not thinking
thereby to merit; for there is nothing that we ourselves can do that
is good,--we are but unprofitable servants; but fast, I say, thereby
to tame the wicked affection of the mind, and trust only to be saved
by Christ's precious blood; for without a perfect faith therein,
there is no salvation. Let works follow your faith; thereby to show
to the world that you do not only say you have faith, but that you
give testimony thereof to the full satisfaction of the godly. I
write somewhat the more herein, because perchance you have
heretofore heard, or perchance may hereafter hear, false bruits that
I was a papist; [Footnote 3] but trust unto it, I never, since I
knew what religion meant (I thank God) was of other mind than now
you shall hear that I die in; although (I cry God mercy) I have not
given fruits and testimony of my faith as I ought to have done; the
which is the thing that I do now chiefliest repent.
[Footnote 3: There would seem to be no doubt that the Duke of
Norfolk was a sincere Protestant. The strenuous advice to his
children to beware of Popery affords evidence of it. Greatly,
however, as it would have tended to their worldly prosperity to
have followed their father's last injunctions in this respect, all
but one of those he thus counselled were subsequently reconciled
to the Catholic Church.
The Duke's letters in this chapter are all authentic. See the Rev.
M. Tierney's History of Arundel, and the Appendix to Nott's
edition of Lord Surrey's poems.]
"When I am gone, forget my condemning, and forgive, I charge you, my
false accusers, as I protest to God I do; but have nothing to do
with them if they live. Surely, Bannister dealt no way but honestly
and truly. Hickford did not hurt me in my conscience, willingly; nor
did not charge me with any great matter that was of weight otherways
than truly. But the Bishop of Ross, and specially Barber, did
falsely accuse me, and laid their own treasons upon my back. God
forgive them, and I do, and once again I will you to do; bear no
malice in your mind. And now, dear Philip, farewell. Read this my
letter sometimes over; it may chance make you remember yourself the
better; and by the same, when your father is dead and rotten, you
may see what counsel I would give you if I were alive. If you follow
these admonitions, there is no doubt but God will bless you; and I,
your earthly father, do give you God's blessing and mine, with my
humble prayers to Almighty God that it will please him to bless you
and your good Nan; that you may both, if it be his will, see your
children's children, to the comfort of you both; and afterward that
you may be partakers of the heavenly kingdom. Amen, amen. Written by
the hand of your loving father. T. H."
"And to Tom his grace did write:
"Tom, out of this that I have written to your brother, you may learn
such lessons as are fit for you. That I write to one, that I write
to all, except it be somewhat which particularly touches any of you.
To fear and serve God is generally to you all; and, on my blessing,
take greatest care thereof, for it is the foundation of all
goodness. You have, even from your infancy, been given to be
stubborn. Beware of that vice, Tom, and bridle nature with wisdom.
Though you be her majesty's ward, yet if you use yourself well to my
Lord Burleigh, he will, I hope, help you to buy your own wardship.
Follow your elder brother's advice, who, I hope, will take such a
course as may be to all your comforts. God send him grace so to do,
and to you too! I give you God's blessing and mine, and I hope he
will prosper you."
"And to Will he saith (whom methinks his heart did incline to, as
Jacob's did to Benjamin):
"Will, though you be now young, yet I hope, if it shall please God
to send you life, that you will then consider of the precepts
heretofore written to your brethren. I have committed the charge of
your bringing-up to your elder brother; and therefore I charge you
to be obedient to him, as you would have been to me if I had been
living. If you shall have a liking to my daughter-in-law, Bess
Dacres, I hope you shall have it in your own choice to marry her. I
will not advise you otherways than yourself, when you are of fit
years, shall think good; but this assure yourself, it will be a good
augmentation to your small living, considering how chargeable the
world groweth to be. As you are youngest, so the more you ought to
be obedient to your elders. God send you a good younger brother's
fortune in this world, and his grace, that you may ever be his, both
in this world and in the world to come."
"To me, his unworthy daughter, were these lines written, which I be
ashamed to transcribe, but that his goodness doth appear in his good
opinion of me rather than my so poor merits:
"Well-beloved Nan, that hath been as dear to me as if you had been
my own daughter, although, considering this ill hap that has now
chanced, you might have had a greater marriage than now your husband
shall be; yet I hope that you will remember that, when you were
married, the case was far otherways; and therefore I hope your
dutiful dealings shall be so to your husband, and your sisterly love
to your brothers-in-law and sister-in-law, as my friends that shall
see it may think that my great affection to you was well bestowed.
Thanks be to God, you have hitherto taken a good course; whereby all
that wish you well take great hope rather of your going forward
therein than backward--which God forbid! I will request no more at
your hands, now that I am gone, in recompense of my former love to
you, but that you will observe my three lessons: to fear and serve
God, flying idleness; to love faithfully your husband; and to be
kind to your brothers and sisters--specially committing to your care
mine only daughter Megg, hoping that you will not be a sister-in-law
to her, but rather a natural sister, yea even a very mother; and
that as I took care for the well bestowing of you, so you will take
care for the well bestowing of her, and be a continual caller on
your husband for the same. If this mishap had not chanced, you and
your husband might have been awhile still young, and I would, by
God's help, have supplied your wants. But now the case is changed,
and you must, at your years of fifteen, attain to the consideration
and discretion of twenty; or else, if God send you to live in your
age, you shall have cause to repent your folly in youth, beside the
endangering the casting away of those who do wholly depend upon your
two well-doings. I do not mistrust that you will be mindful of my
last requests; and so doing God bless you, and send you to be old
parents to virtuous children, which is likeliest to be if you give
them good example. Farewell! for this is the last that you shall
ever receive from your loving father. Farewell, my dear Nan!"
"And to his own sweet Megg he subjoined in the same letter these
words:
"Megg, I have, as you see, committed you to your loving sister. I
charge you therefore, upon my blessing, that you obey her in all
things, as you would do me or your own mother, if we were living;
and then I doubt not but by her good means you shall be in fit time
bestowed to your own comfort and contentment. Be good; no babbler,
and ever be busied and doing of somewhat; and give your mind to
reading in the Bible and such other good books, whereby you may
learn to fear God; and so you shall prove, by his help, hereafter
the better wife, and a virtuous woman in all other respects. If you
follow these my lessons, then God's blessing and mine I give you,
and pray that you may both live and die his servant. Amen."
When I read these letters, and my Lady Surrey's comments upon them,
what pangs seized my heart! Her messenger was awaiting an
answer, which he said must be brief, for he had to ride to Bermondsey
with a message for my Lord Sussex, and had been long delayed in the
city. I seized a pen, and hastily wrote:
"Oh, my dear and honored lady, what grief, what pain, your letter
hath caused me! Forgive me if, having but brief time in which to
write a few lines by your messenger, I dwell not on the sorrow which
doth oppress you, nor on the many excellences apparent in those
farewell letters, which give token of so great virtue and wisdom in
the writer, that one should be prompted to exclaim he did lack but
one thing to be perfect, that being a true faith,--but rather
direct my answer to that passage in yours which doth work in me such
regret, yea such anguish of heart, as my poor words can ill express.
For verily there can be no greater danger to a soul than to be lured
from the profession of a true Catholic faith, once firmly received
and yet inwardly held, by deceptive arguments, whereby it doth
conceal its own weakness under the garb of respect for the dead and
duty to the living. For, I pray you, mine own dear lady, what
respect and what duty is owing to men which be not rather due to him
who reads the heart, and will ask a strict account of such as,
having known his will, yet have not done it? Believe me, 'tis a
perilous thing to do evil that good may come. Is it possible you
should resolve never to profess that religion which, in your
conscience, you do believe to be true, nor to move your lord
thereunto, for any human respect, however dear and sacred? I hope
other feelings may return, and God's hand will support, uphold, and
never fail you in your need. I beseech him to guard and keep you in
the right way.
"Your humble servant and truly loving poor friend,
"CONSTANCE SHERWOOD."