CHAPTER II.

1536 TO 1542.

Vague notions of hereditary succession to the English throne.--Henry's

jealousy of the royal family.--Imprisonment of lord T. Howard and lady

M. Douglas.--After-fortunes of this lady.--Princess Mary reconciled with

her father.--Dissolution of monasteries proceeds.--Insurrections in

Lincolnshire and Yorkshire.--Remarkable trait of the power of the

nobles.--Rebellion of T. Fitzgerald.--Romantic adventures of Gerald

Fitzgerald.--Birth of prince Edward.--Death of the queen.--Rise of the

two Seymours.--Henry's views in their advancement.--His enmity to

cardinal Pole.--Causes of it.--Geffrey Pole discloses a plot.--Trial and

death of lord Montacute, the marquis of Exeter, sir Edward Nevil, and

sir N. Carew.--Particulars of these persons.--Attainder of the

marchioness of Exeter and countess of Salisbury.--Application of these

circumstances to the history of Elizabeth.--Decline of the protestant

party.--Its causes.--Cromwel proposes the king's marriage with Anne of

Cleves.--Accomplishments of this lady.--Royal marriage.--Cromwel made

earl of Essex.--Anger of the Bourchier family.--Justs at

Westminster.--The king determines to dissolve his marriage.--Permits the

fall of Cromwel.--Is divorced.--Behaviour of the queen.--Marriage of the

king to Catherine Howard.--Ascendency of the papists.--Execution of the

countess of Salisbury--of lord Leonard Grey.--Discovery of the queen's

ill-conduct.--Attainders passed against her and several others.

Nothing could be more opposite to the strict principles of hereditary

succession than the ideas entertained, even by the first lawyers of the

time of Henry VIII., concerning the manner in which a title to the crown

was to be established and recognised.

When Rich, the king's solicitor, was sent by his master to argue with

sir Thomas More on the lawfulness of acknowledging the royal supremacy;

he inquired in the course of his argument, whether sir Thomas would not

own for king any person whatever,--himself for example,--who should have

been declared so by parliament? He answered, that he would. Rich then

demanded, why he refused to acknowledge a head of the church so

appointed? "Because," replied More, "a parliament can make a king and

depose him, and that every parliament-man may give his consent

thereunto, but a subject cannot be bound so in case of supremacy[3]."

Bold as such doctrine respecting the power of parliaments would now be

thought, it could not well be controverted at a time when examples were

still recent of kings of the line of York or Lancaster alternately

elevated or degraded by a vote of the two houses, and when the father of

the reigning sovereign had occupied the throne in virtue of such a

nomination more than by right of birth.

[Note 3: See Herbert's Henry VIII.]

But the obvious inconveniences and dangers attending the exercise of

this power of choice, had induced the parliaments of Henry VIII. to join

with him in various acts for the regulation of the succession. It was

probably with the concurrence of this body, that in 1532 he had declared

his cousin, the marquis of Exeter, heir to the crown; yet this very

act, by which the king excluded not only his daughter Mary, but his two

sisters and their children, every one of whom had a prior right

according to the rules at present received, must have caused the

sovereignty to be regarded rather as elective in the royal family than

properly hereditary--a fatal idea, which converted every member of that

family possessed of wealth, talents, or popularity, into a formidable

rival, if not to the sovereign on the throne, at least to his next heir,

if a woman or a minor, and which may be regarded as the immediate

occasion of those cruel proscriptions which stained with kindred blood

the closing years of the reign of Henry, and have stamped upon him to

all posterity the odious character of a tyrant.

The first sufferer by the suspicions of the king was lord Thomas Howard,

half-brother to the duke of Norfolk, who was attainted of high treason

in the parliament of 1536, for having secretly entered into a contract

of marriage with lady Margaret Douglas, the king's niece, through which

alliance he was accused of aiming at the crown. For this offence he was

confined in the Tower till his death; but on what evidence of traitorous

designs, or by what law, except the arbitrary mandate of the monarch

confirmed by a subservient parliament, it would be difficult to say.

That his marriage was forbidden by no law, is evident from the passing

of an act immediately afterwards, making it penal to marry any female

standing in the first degree of relationship to the king, without his

knowledge and consent.

The lady Margaret was daughter to Henry's eldest sister, the

queen-dowager of Scotland, by her second husband the earl of Angus. She

was born in England, whither her mother had been compelled to fly for

refuge by the turbulent state of her son's kingdom, and the ill success

of her own and her husband's struggles for the acquisition of political

power. In the English court the lady Margaret had likewise been

educated, and had formed connexions of friendship; whilst her brother

James V. laboured under the antipathy with which the English then

regarded those northern neighbours, with whom they were involved in

almost perpetual hostilities. It might easily therefore have happened,

in case of the king's death without male heirs, that in spite of the

power recently bestowed on him by parliament of disposing of the crown

by will, which it is very uncertain how he would have employed, a

connexion with the potent house of Howard might have given the title of

lady Margaret a preference over that of any other competitor. Henry was

struck with this danger, however distant and contingent: he caused his

niece, as well as her spouse, to be imprisoned; and though he restored

her to liberty in a few months, and the death of Howard, not long

afterwards, set her free from this ill-starred engagement, she ventured

not to form another, till the king himself, at the end of several years,

gave her in marriage to the earl of Lenox; by whom she became the mother

of lord Darnley, and through him the progenitrix of a line of princes

destined to unite another crown to the ancient inheritance of the

Plantagenets and the Tudors.

The princess Mary, after the removal of Anne Boleyn, who had exercised

towards her the utmost insolence and harshness, ventured upon some

overtures towards a reconciliation with her father; but he would accept

them on no other conditions than her adopting his religious creed,

acknowledging his supremacy, denying the authority of the pope, and

confessing the unlawfulness of her mother's marriage. It was long before

motives of expediency, and the persuasion of friends, could wring from

Mary a reluctant assent to these cruel articles: her compliance was

rewarded by the return of her father's affection, but not immediately by

her reinstatement in the order of succession. She saw the child of Anne

Boleyn still a distinguished object of the king's paternal tenderness;

the new queen was likely to give another heir to the crown; and whatever

hopes she, with the catholic party in general, had founded on the

disgrace of his late spouse, became frustrated by succeeding events.

The death of Catherine of Arragon seemed to have removed the principal

obstacles to an agreement between the king and the pope; and the holy

father now deigned to make some advances towards a son whom he hoped to

find disposed to penitence: but they were absolutely rejected by Henry,

who had ceased to dread his spiritual thunders. The parliament and the

convocation showed themselves prepared to adopt, without hesitation, the

numerous changes suggested by the king in the ancient ritual; and

Cromwel, with influence not apparently diminished by the fall of the

late patroness of the protestant party, presided in the latter assembly

with the title of vicegerent, and with powers unlimited.

The suppression of monasteries was now carried on with increasing rigor,

and thousands of their unfortunate inhabitants were mercilessly turned

out to beg or starve. These, dispersing themselves over the country, in

which their former hospitalities had rendered them generally popular,

worked strongly on the passions of the many, already discontented at the

imposition of new taxes, which served to convince them that the king and

his courtiers would be the only gainers by the plunder of the church;

and formidable insurrections were in some counties the result. In

Lincolnshire the commotions were speedily suppressed by the

interposition of the earl of Shrewsbury and other loyal noblemen; but it

was necessary to send into Yorkshire a considerable army under the duke

of Norfolk. Through the dexterous management of this leader, who was

judged to favor the cause of the revolters as much as his duty to his

sovereign and a regard to his own safety would permit, little blood was

shed in the field; but much flowed afterwards on the scaffold, where the

lords Darcy and Hussey, sir Thomas Percy, brother to the earl of

Northumberland, and several private gentlemen, suffered as traitors.

The suppression of these risings strengthened, as usual, the hands of

government, but at the expense of converting into an object of dread, a

monarch who in the earlier and brighter period of his reign had been

regarded with sentiments of admiration and love.

In lord Herbert's narrative of this insurrection, we meet with a passage

too remarkable to be omitted. "But the king, who was informed from

divers parts, but chiefly from Yorkshire, that the people began there

also to take arms, and knowing of what great consequence it might be if

the great persons in those parts, though the rumour were false, should

be said to join with him, had commanded George earl of Shrewsbury,

Thomas Manners earl of Rutland, and George Hastings earl of Huntingdon,

to make a proclamation to the Lincolnshire-men, summoning and commanding

them on their allegiance and peril of their lives to return; which, as

it much disheartened them, so many stole away," &c.

In this potency of the hereditary aristocracy of the country, and

comparative feebleness, on some occasions at least, of the authority of

the most despotic sovereign whom England had yet seen on the throne, we

discern at once the excuse which Henry would make to himself for his

severities against the nobility, and the motive of that extreme

popularity of manners by which Elizabeth aimed at attaching to herself

the affections of the middling and lower orders of her subjects.

Soon after these events, Henry confirmed the new impressions which his

subjects had received of his character, by an act of extraordinary, but

not unprovoked, severity, which involved in destruction one of the most

ancient and powerful houses among the peerage of Ireland, that of

Fitzgerald earl of Kildare. The nobleman who now bore this title had

married for his second wife lady Elizabeth Grey, daughter of the first

marquis of Dorset, and first-cousin to the king by his mother; he had

been favored at court, and was at this time lord deputy of Ireland. But

the country being in a very disturbed state, and the deputy accused of

many acts of violence, he had obeyed with great reluctance a summons to

answer for his conduct before the king in council, leaving his eldest

son to exercise his office during his absence. On his arrival, he was

committed to the Tower, and his son, alarmed by the false report of his

having lost his head, broke out immediately into a furious rebellion.

After a temporary success, Thomas Fitzgerald was reduced to great

difficulties: at the same time a promise of pardon was held out to him;

and confiding in it he surrendered himself to lord Leonard Grey, brother

to the countess his step-mother. His five uncles, also implicated in the

guilt of rebellion, were seized by surprise, or deceived into

submission. The whole six were then conveyed to England in the same

ship; and all, in spite of the entreaties and remonstrances of lord

Leonard Grey, who considered his own honor as pledged for the safety of

their lives, were hanged at Tyburn.

The aged earl had died in the Tower on receiving news of his son's rash

enterprise; and a posthumous attainder being issued against him, his

lands and goods were forfeited. The king however, in pity to the widow,

and as a slight atonement for so cruel an injustice, permitted one of

her daughters to retain some poor remains of the family plate and

valuables; and another of them, coming to England, appears to have

received her education at Hunsdon palace with the princesses Mary and

Elizabeth her relations. Here she was seen by Henry earl of Surry, whose

chaste and elegant muse has handed her down to posterity as the lovely

Geraldine, the object of his fervent but fruitless devotion. She was

married first to sir Anthony Brown, and afterwards became the wife of

the earl of Lincoln, surviving by many years her noble and unfortunate

admirer.

The countess of Kildare, and the younger of her two sons, likewise

remained in England obscure and unmolested; but the merciless rancour of

Henry against the house of Fitzgerald still pursued its destitute and

unoffending heir, who was struggling through a series of adventures the

most perilous and the most romantic.

This boy, named Gerald, then about twelve years old, had been left by

his father at a house in Kildare, under the care and tuition of Leverous

a priest who was his foster-brother. The child was lying ill of the

small-pox, when the news arrived that his brother and uncles had been

sent prisoners to England: but his affectionate guardian, justly

apprehensive of greater danger to his young charge, wrapped him up as

carefully as he could, and conveyed him away with all speed to the house

of one of his sisters, where he remained till he was quite recovered.

Thence his tutor removed him successively into the territories of two or

three different Irish chieftains, who sheltered him for about three

quarters of a year, after which he carried him to his aunt the lady

Elenor, at that time widow of a chief named Maccarty Reagh.

This lady had long been sought in marriage by O'Donnel lord of

Tyrconnel, to whose suit she had been unpropitious: but wrought upon by

the hope of being able to afford effectual protection to her unfortunate

nephew, she now consented to an immediate union; and taking Gerald along

with her to her new home in the county of Donegal, she there hospitably

entertained him for about a year. But the jealous spirit of the

implacable king seemed to know no rest while this devoted youth still

breathed the air of liberty, and he caused a great reward to be offered

for his apprehension, which the base-minded O'Donnel immediately sought

to appropriate by delivering him up. Fortunately the lady Elenor

discovered his intentions in time, and instantly causing her nephew to

disguise his person, and storing him, like a bountiful aunt, with

"sevenscore portugueses," she put him under the charge of Leverous and

an old servant of his father's, and shipped him on board a vessel bound

for St. Malo's.

Having thus secured his escape, she loftily expostulated with her

husband on his villainy in plotting to betray her kinsman, whom she had

stipulated that he should protect to the utmost of his power; and she

bid him know, that as the danger of the youth had alone induced her to

form any connection with him, so the assurance of his safety should

cause her to sequester herself for ever from the society of so base and

mercenary a wretch: and hereupon, collecting all that belonged to her,

she quitted O'Donnel and returned to her own country.

Gerald, in the mean time, arrived without accident in Bretagne, and was

favorably received by the governor of that province, when the king of

France, being informed of his situation, gave him a place about the

dauphin. Sir John Wallop however, the English embassador, soon demanded

him, in virtue of a treaty between the two countries for the delivering

up of offenders and proscribed persons; and while the king demurred to

the requisition, Gerald consulted his safety by making a speedy retreat

into Flanders. Thither his steps were dogged by an Irish servant of the

embassador's; but the governor of Valenciennes protected him by

imprisoning this man, till the youth himself generously begged his

release; and he reached the emperor's court at Brussels, without further

molestation. But here also the English embassador demanded him; the

emperor however excused himself from giving up a fugitive whose youth

sufficiently attested his innocence, and sent him privately to the

bishop of Liege, with a pension of a hundred crowns a month. The bishop

entertained him very honorably, placing him in a monastery, and watching

carefully over the safety of his person, till, at the end of half a

year, his mother's kinsman, cardinal Pole, sent for him into Italy.

Before he would admit the young Irishman to his presence, the cardinal

required him to learn Italian; and allowing him an annuity, placed him

first with the bishop of Verona, then with a cardinal, and afterwards

with the duke of Mantua. At the end of a year and a half he invited him

to Rome, and soon becoming attached to him, took him into his house, and

for three years had him instructed under his own eye in all the

accomplishments of a finished gentleman. At the end of this time, when

Gerald had nearly attained the age of nineteen, his generous patron gave

him the choice either of pursuing his studies or of travelling to seek

his adventures. The youth preferred the latter; and repairing to Naples,

he fell in with some knights of Rhodes, whom he accompanied to Malta,

and thence to Tripoli, a place at that time possessed by the order,

whence they carried on fierce war against the "Turks and miscreants,"

spoiling and sacking their villages and towns, and taking many prisoners

whom they sold to the Christians for slaves. In these proceedings, the

young adventurer took a strenuous and valiant part, much to his profit;

for in less than a year he returned to Rome laden with a rich booty.

"Proud was the cardinal to hear of his prosperous exploits," and

increased his pension to three hundred pounds a year. Shortly after, he

entered into the service of Cosmo duke of Florence, and remained three

years his master of the horse.

The tidings of Henry's death at length put an end to his exile, and he

hastened to London in the company of some foreign embassadors, and still

attended by his faithful guardian Leverous. Appearing at king Edward's

court in a mask, or ball, he had the good fortune to make a deep

impression on the heart of a young lady, daughter to sir Anthony Brown,

whom he married; and through the intercession of her friends was

restored to a part of his inheritance by the young monarch, who also

knighted him. In the next reign, the interest of cardinal Pole procured

his reinstatement in all the titles and honors of his ancestors. He was

a faithful and affectionate subject to queen Elizabeth, in whose reign

he turned protestant; was by her greatly favored, and finally died in

peace in 1585.[4]

That ill-directed restlessness which formed so striking a feature in the

character of Henry VIII. had already prompted him to interfere, as we

have seen, on more than one occasion, with the order of succession; and

the dangerous consequences of these capricious acts with respect to the

several branches of the royal family have already been observed. To the

people at large also, his instability on so momentous a point was

harassing and alarming, and they became as much at a loss to conjecture

what successor, as what religion, he would at last bequeath them.

Under such circumstances, great indeed must have been the joy in the

court and in the nation on the occurrence of an event calculated to end

all doubts and remove all difficulties--the birth of a prince of Wales.

This auspicious infant seemed to strangle in his cradle the serpents of

civil discord. Every lip hastened to proffer him its homage; every heart

united, or seemed at least to unite, in the general burst of

thankfulness and congratulation.

[Note 4: See Chron. of Ireland in Holinshed, _pass_. Collins's

Peerage, by sir E. Brydges, article _Viscount Leinster_.]

The zealous papists formed the party most to be suspected of insincerity

in their professions of satisfaction; but the princess Mary set them an

excellent example of graceful submission to what was inevitable, by

soliciting the office of godmother. Her sister was happily too young to

be infected with court-jealousies, or to behold in a brother an

unwelcome intruder, who came to snatch from her the inheritance of a

crown: between Elizabeth and Edward an attachment truly fraternal sprung

up with the first dawnings of reason; and notwithstanding the fatal blow

given to her interests by the act of settlement extorted from his dying

hand, this princess never ceased to cherish his memory, and to mention

him in terms of affectionate regret.

The conjugal felicities of Henry were destined to be of short duration,

and before he could receive the felicitations of his subjects on the

birth of his son, the mother was snatched away by death. The queen died

deeply regretted, not only by her husband, but by the whole court, whom

she had attached by the uncommon sweetness of her disposition. To the

princess Mary her behaviour had been the reverse of that by which her

predecessor had disgraced herself; and the little Elizabeth had received

from her marks of a maternal tenderness. Jane Seymour was accounted a

favourer of the protestant cause; but as she was apparently free from

the ambition of interfering in state affairs, her death had no further

political influence than what resulted from the king's marriage thus

becoming once more an object of speculation and court intrigue. It did

not even give a check to the advancement of her two brothers, destined

to act and to suffer so conspicuously in the fierce contentions of the

ensuing minority; for the king seemed to regard it as a point of policy

to elevate those maternal relations of his son, on whose care he relied

to watch over the safety of his person in case of his own demise, to a

dignity and importance which the proudest nobles of the land might view

with respect or fear. Sir Edward Seymour, who had been created lord

Beauchamp the year before, was now made earl of Hertford; and high

places at court and commands in the army attested the favor of his royal

brother-in-law. Thomas Seymour, afterwards lord high-admiral, attained

during this reign no higher dignity than that of knighthood; but

considerable pecuniary grants were bestowed upon him; and whilst he saw

his wealth increase, he was secretly extending his influence, and

feeding his aspiring spirit with fond anticipations of future greatness.

All now seemed tranquil: but a discerning eye might already have beheld

fresh tempests gathering in the changeful atmosphere of the English

court. The jealousies of the king, become too habitual to be discarded,

had in fact only received a new direction from the birth of his son: his

mind was perpetually haunted with the dread of leaving him, a

defenceless minor, in the hands of contending parties in religion, and

of a formidable and factious nobility; and for the sake of obviating the

distant and contingent evils which he apprehended from this source, he

showed himself ready to pour forth whole rivers of the best blood of

England.

The person beyond all comparison most dreaded and detested by Henry at

this juncture was his cousin Reginald Pole, for whom when a youth he had

conceived a warm affection, whose studies he had encouraged by the gift

of a deanery and the hope of further church-preferment, and of whose

ingratitude he always believed himself entitled to complain. It was the

long-contested point of the lawfulness of Henry's marriage with his

brother's widow, which set the kinsmen at variance. Pole had from the

first refused to concur with the university of Paris, in which he was

then residing, in its condemnation of this union: afterwards, alarmed

probably at the king's importunities on the subject, he had obtained the

permission then necessary for leaving England, to which he had returned,

and travelled into Italy. Here he formed friendships with the most

eminent defenders of the papal authority, now incensed to the highest

degree against Henry, on account of his having declared himself head of

the English church; and both his convictions and his passions becoming

still more strongly engaged on the side which he had already espoused,

he published a work on the unity of the church, in which the conduct of

his sovereign and benefactor became the topic of his vehement invective.

The offended king, probably with treacherous intentions, invited Pole to

come to England, and explain to him in person certain difficult passages

of his book: but his kinsman was too wary to trust himself in such

hands; and his refusal to obey this summons, which implied a final

renunciation of his country and all his early prospects, was

immediately rewarded by the pope, through the emperor's concurrence,

with a cardinal's hat and the appointment of legate to Flanders. But

alarmed, as well as enraged, at seeing the man whom he regarded as his

bitterest personal enemy placed in a situation so convenient for

carrying on intrigues with the disaffected papists in England, Henry

addressed so strong a remonstrance to the governess of the Netherlands,

as caused her to send the cardinal out of the country before he had

begun to exercise the functions of his legantine office.

From this time, to maintain any intercourse or correspondence with Pole

was treated by the king as either in itself an act of treason, or at

least as conclusive evidence of traitorous intentions. He believed that

the darkest designs were in agitation against his own government and his

son's succession; and the circumstance of the cardinal's still declining

to take any but deacon's orders, notwithstanding his high dignity in the

church, suggested to him the suspicion that his kinsman aimed at the

crown itself, through a marriage with the princess Mary, of whose

legitimacy he had shown himself so strenuous a champion. What foundation

there might be for such an idea it is difficult to determine.

There is an author who relates that the lady Mary was educated with the

cardinal under his mother, and hints that an early attachment had thus

been formed between them[5]: A statement manifestly inaccurate, since

Pole was sixteen years older than the princess; though it is not

improbable that Mary, during some period of her youth, might be placed

under the care of the countess of Salisbury, and permitted to associate

with her son on easy and affectionate terms. It is well known that after

Mary's accession, Charles V. impeded the journey of Pole into England

till her marriage with his son Philip had been actually solemnized; but

this was probably rather from a persuasion of the inexpediency of the

cardinal's sooner opening his legantine commission in England, than from

any fear of his supplanting in Mary's affections his younger rival,

though some have ascribed to the emperor the latter motive.

[Note 5: See Lloyd's Worthies, article _Pole_.]

When however it is recollected, that in consequence of Henry's having

caused a posthumous judgement of treason to be pronounced against the

papal martyr Becket, his shrine to be destroyed, his bones burned, and

his ashes scattered, the pope had at length, in 1538, fulminated against

him the long-suspended sentence of excommunication, and made a donation

of his kingdom to the king of Scots, and thus impressed the sanction of

religion on any rebellious attempts of his Roman-catholic subjects,--it

would be too much to pronounce the apprehensions of the monarch to have

been altogether chimerical. But his suspicion appears, as usual, to have

gone beyond the truth, and his anger to have availed itself of slight

pretexts to ruin where he feared and hated.

Such was the state of his mind when the treachery or weakness of Geffrey

Pole furnished him with intelligence of a traitorous correspondence

carried on with his brother the cardinal by several persons of

distinction attached to the papal interest, and in which he had himself

been a sharer. On his information, the marquis of Exeter, viscount

Montacute, sir Edward Nevil, and sir Nicholas Carew, were apprehended,

tried and found guilty of high treason. Public opinion was at this time

nothing; and notwithstanding the rank, consequence and popularity of the

men whose lives were sacrificed on this occasion; notwithstanding that

secret consciousness of his own ill-will towards them, which ought to

have rendered Henry more than usually cautious in his proceedings,--not

even an attempt was made to render their guilt clear and notorious to

the nation at large; and posterity scarcely even knows of what designs

they were accused; to overt acts it is quite certain that they had not

proceeded.

Henry lord Montacute was obnoxious on more than one account: he was the

brother of cardinal Pole; and as eldest son of Margaret, sole surviving

child of the duke of Clarence and heiress to her brother the earl of

Warwick, he might be regarded as succeeding to those claims on the crown

which under Henry VII. had proved fatal to the last-mentioned

unfortunate and ill-treated nobleman. During the early part of this

reign, however, he, in common with other members of the family of Pole,

had received marks of the friendship of Henry. In 1514, his mother was

authorized to assume the title of countess of Salisbury, and he that of

viscount Montacute, notwithstanding the attainder formerly passed

against the great house of Nevil, from whom these honors were derived.

In 1521 lord Montacute had been indicted for concealing the treasons,

real or pretended, of the duke of Buckingham; but immediately on his

acquittal he was restored to the good graces of his sovereign, and, two

years after, attended him on an expedition to France.

It is probable that lord Montacute was popular; he was at least a

partisan of the old religion, and heir to the vast possessions which his

mother derived from the king-making earl of Warwick her maternal

grandfather; sufficient motives with Henry for now wishing his removal.

If the plot in which he was charged by his perfidious brother with

participating, had in view the elevation of the cardinal to a

matrimonial crown by his union with the princess Mary, which seems to

have been insinuated, lord Montacute must at least stand acquitted of

all design of asserting his own title; yet it may justly be suspected

that his character of representative of the house of Clarence, was by

Henry placed foremost in the catalogue of his offences.

A similar remark applies still more forcibly to the marquis of Exeter.

Son of Catherine, youngest daughter of Edward IV., and so lately

declared his heir by Henry himself, it is scarcely credible that any

inducement could have drawn this nobleman into a plot for disturbing the

succession in favour of a claim worse founded than his own; and that the

blood which he inherited was the true object of Henry's apprehensions

from him, evidently appeared to all the world by his causing the son of

the unhappy marquis, a child at this period, to be detained a state

prisoner in the Tower during the remainder of his reign.

Sir Edward Nevil was brother to lord Abergavenny and to the wife of lord

Montacute--a connection likely to bring him into suspicion, and perhaps

to involve him in real guilt; but it must not be forgotten that he was a

lineal descendant of the house of Lancaster by Joan daughter of John of

Gaunt. The only person not of royal extraction who suffered on this

occasion was sir Nicholas Carew, master of the horse, and lately a

distinguished favourite of the king; of whom it is traditionally

related, that though accused as an accomplice in the designs of the

other noble delinquents, the real offence for which he died, was the

having retorted, with more spirit than prudence, some opprobrious

language with which his royal master had insulted him as they were

playing at bowls together[6]. The family of Carew was however allied in

blood to that of Courtney, of which the marquis of Exeter was the head.

[Note 6: See Fuller's Worthies in Surry.]

But the attempt to extirpate all who under any future circumstances

might be supposed capable of advancing claims formidable to the house of

Tudor, must have appeared to Henry himself a task almost as hopeless as

cruel. Sons and daughters of the Plantagenet princes had in every

generation freely intermarried with the ancient nobles of the land; and

as fast as those were cut off whose connection with the royal blood was

nearest and most recent, the pedigrees of families pointed out others,

and others still, whose relationship grew into nearness by the removal

of such as had stood before them, and presented to the affrighted eyes

of their persecutor, a hydra with still renewed and multiplying heads.

Not content with these inflictions,--sufficiently severe it might be

thought to intimidate the papal faction,--Henry gratified still further

his stern disposition by the attainder of the marchioness of Exeter and

the aged countess of Salisbury. The marchioness he soon after released;

but the countess was still detained prisoner under a sentence of death,

which a parliament, atrocious in its subserviency, had passed upon her

without form of trial, but which the king did not think proper at

present to carry into execution, either because he chose to keep her as

a kind of hostage for the good behaviour of her son the cardinal, or

because, tyrant as he had become, he had not yet been able to divest

himself of all reverence or pity for the hoary head of a female, a

kinswoman, and the last who was born to the name of Plantagenet.

It is melancholy, it is even disgusting, to dwell upon these acts of

legalized atrocity, but let it be allowed that it is important and

instructive. They form unhappily a leading feature of the administration

of Henry VIII. during the latter years of his reign; they exhibit in the

most striking point of view the sentiments and practices of the age; and

may assist us to form a juster estimate of the character and conduct of

Elizabeth, whose infant mind was formed to the contemplation of these

domestic tragedies, and whose fame has often suffered by inconsiderate

comparisons which have placed her in parallel with the enlightened and

humanized sovereigns of more modern days, rather than with the stern and

arbitrary Tudors, her barbarous predecessors.

It is remarkable that the protestant party at the court of Henry, so far

from gaining strength and influence by the severities exercised against

the adherents of cardinal Pole and the ancient religion, was evidently

in a declining state. The feeble efforts of its two leaders Cromwel and

Cranmer, of whom the first was deficient in zeal, the last in courage,

now experienced irresistible counteraction from the influence of

Gardiner, whose uncommon talents for business, joined to his extreme

obsequiousness, had rendered him at once necessary and acceptable to his

royal master. The law of the Six Articles, which forbade under the

highest penalties the denial of several doctrines of the Romish church

peculiarly obnoxious to the reformers, was probably drawn up by this

minister. It was enacted in the parliament of 1539: a vast number of

persons were soon after imprisoned for transgressing it; and Cranmer

himself was compelled, by the clause which ordained the celibacy of the

clergy, to send away his wife.

Under these circumstances Cromwel began to look on all sides for

support; and recollecting with regret the powerful influence exerted by

Anne Boleyn in favor of the good cause, and even the gentler and more

private aid lent to it by the late queen, he planned a new marriage for

his sovereign, with a lady educated in the very bosom of the protestant

communion. Political considerations favored the design; since a treaty

lately concluded between the emperor and the king of France rendered it

highly expedient that Henry, by way of counterpoise, should strengthen

his alliance with the Smalcaldic league. In short, Cromwel prevailed.

Holbein, whom the king had appointed his painter on the recommendation

of sir Thomas More, and still retained in that capacity, was sent over

to take the portrait of Anne sister of the duke of Cleves; and rashly

trusting in the fidelity of the likeness, Henry soon after solicited her

hand in marriage.

"The lady Anne," says a historian, "understood no language but Dutch, so

that all communication of speech between her and our king was

intercluded. Yet our embassador, Nicholas Wotton doctor of law, employed

in the business, hath it, that she could both read and write in her own

language, and sew very well; only for music, he said, it was not the

manner of the country to learn it[7]." It must be confessed that for a

princess this list of accomplishments appears somewhat scanty; and

Henry, unfortunately for the lady Anne, was a great admirer of learning,

wit and talents, in the female sex, and a passionate lover of music,

which he well understood. What was still worse, he piqued himself

extremely on his taste in beauty, and was much more solicitous

respecting the personal charms of his consorts than is usual with

sovereigns; and when, on the arrival of his destined bride in England,

he hastened to Rochester to gratify his impatience by snatching a

private view of her, he found that in this capital article he had been

grievously imposed upon. The uncourteous comparison by which he

expressed his dislike of her large and clumsy person is well known.

Bitterly did he lament to Cromwel the hard fortune which had allotted

him so unlovely a partner, and he returned to London very melancholy.

But the evil appeared to be now past remedy; it was contrary to all

policy to affront the German princes by sending back their countrywoman

after matters had gone so far, and Henry magnanimously resolved to

sacrifice his own feelings, once in his life, for the good of his

country. Accordingly, he received the princess with great magnificence

and with every outward demonstration of satisfaction, and was married to

her at Greenwich in January 1540.

[Note 7: Herbert.]

Two or three months afterwards, the king, notwithstanding his secret

dissatisfaction, rewarded Cromwel for his pains in concluding this union

by conferring on him the vacant title of earl of Essex;--a fatal gift,

which exasperated to rage the mingled jealousy and disdain which this

low-born and aspiring minister had already provoked from the ancient

nobility, by intruding himself into the order of the garter, and which

served to heap upon his devoted head fresh coals of wrath against the

day of retribution which was fast approaching. The act of transferring

this title to a new family, could in fact be no otherwise regarded by

the great house of Bourchier, which had long enjoyed it, than either as

a marked indignity to itself, or as a fresh result of the general Tudor

system of depressing and discountenancing the blood of the Plantagenets,

from which the Bourchiers, through a daughter of Thomas of Woodstock,

were descended. The late earl had left a married daughter, to whom,

according to the customary courtesy of English sovereigns in similar

circumstances, the title ought to have been continued; and as this lady

had no children, the earl of Bath, as head of the house, felt himself

also aggrieved by the alienation of family honors which he hoped to have

seen continued to himself and his posterity.

In honor, probably, of the recent marriage of the king, unusually

splendid justs were opened at Westminster on May-day; in which the

challengers were headed by sir John Dudley, and the defenders by the

earl of Surry. This entertainment was continued for several successive

days, during which the challengers, according to the costly fashion of

ancient hospitality, kept open house at their common charge, and feasted

the king and queen, the members of both houses, and the lord-mayor and

aldermen with their wives.

But scenes of pomp and festivity had no power to divert the thoughts of

the king from his domestic grievance,--a wife whom he regarded with

disgust: on the contrary, it is probable that this season of courtly

revelry encreased his disquiet, by giving him opportunities of beholding

under the most attractive circumstances the charms of a youthful beauty

whom he was soon seized with the most violent desire of placing beside

him on the throne which he judged her worthy to adorn.

No considerations of rectitude or of policy could longer restrain the

impetuous monarch from casting off the yoke of a detested marriage: and

as a first step towards emancipation, he determined to permit the ruin

of its original adviser, that unpopular minister, but vigorous and

serviceable instrument of arbitrary power, whom he had hitherto defended

with pertinacity against all attacks.

No sooner was the decline of his favor perceived, and what so quickly

perceived at courts? than the ill-fated Cromwel found himself assailed

on every side. His active agency in the suppression of monasteries had

brought upon him, with the imputation of sacrilege, the hatred of all

the papists;--a certain coldness, or timidity, which he had manifested

in the cause of religious reformation in other respects, and

particularly the enactment of the Six Articles during his

administration, had rendered him an object of suspicion or dislike to

the protestants;--in his new and undefined office of royal vicegerent

for the exercise of the supremacy, he had offended the whole body of the

clergy;--and he had just filled up the measure of his offences against

the nobility by procuring a grant of the place of lord high-steward,

long hereditary in the great house of the Veres earls of Oxford. The

only voice raised in his favor was that of Cranmer, who interceded with

Henry in his behalf in a letter eloquent, touching, and even courageous,

times and persons considered. Gardiner and the duke of Norfolk urged on

his accusation; the parliament, with its accustomed subserviency,

proceeded against him by attainder; and having voted him guilty of

heresy and treason, left it in the choice of the king to bring him

either to the block or the stake for whichever he pleased of these

offences; neither of which was proved by evidence, or even supported by

reasonable probabilities. But against this violation in his person of

the chartered rights of Englishmen, however flagrant, the unfortunate

earl of Essex had forfeited all right to appeal, since it was himself

who had first advised the same arbitrary mode of proceeding in the cases

of the marchioness of Exeter, of the countess of Salisbury, and of

several persons of inferior rank connected with them; on whom capital

punishment had already been inflicted.

With many private virtues, Essex, like his great master Wolsey, and like

the disgraced ministers of despotic princes in general, perished

unpitied; and the king and the faction of Gardiner and of the Howards

seemed equally to rejoice in the free course opened by his removal to

their further projects. The parliament was immediately ordered to find

valid a certain frivolous pretext of a prior contract, on which its

master was pleased to demand a divorce from Ann of Cleves; and the

marriage was unanimously declared null, without any opportunity afforded

to the queen of bringing evidence in its support.

The fortitude, or rather phlegm, with which her unmerited degradation

was supported by the lady Anne, has in it something at once

extraordinary and amusing. There is indeed a tradition that she fainted

on first receiving the information that her marriage was likely to be

set aside; but the shock once over, she gave to the divorce, without

hesitation or visible reluctance, that assent which was required of her.

Taking in good part the pension of three thousand pounds per annum, and

the title of his _sister_ which her ex-husband was graciously pleased to

offer her, she wrote to her brother the elector to entreat him still to

live in amity with the king of England, against whom she had no ground

of complaint; and she continued, till the day of her death, to make his

country her abode. Through the whole affair she gave no indication of

wounded pride; unless her refusal to return in the character of a

discarded and rejected damsel, to the home which she had so lately

quitted in all the pomp and triumph of a royal bride, is to be regarded

as such. But even for this part of her conduct a different motive is

with great plausibility assigned by a writer, who supposes her to have

been swayed by the prudent consideration, that the regular payment of

her pension would better be secured by her remaining under the eyes and

within the protection of the English nation.

A very few weeks after this apparently formidable business had been thus

readily and amicably arranged, Catherine Howard niece to the duke of

Norfolk, and first cousin to Anne Boleyn, was declared queen. This lady,

beautiful, insinuating, and more fondly beloved by the king than any of

her predecessors, was a catholic, and almost all the members of the

council who now possessed office or influence were attached, more or

less openly, to the same communion. In consequence, the penalties of the

Six Articles were enforced with great cruelty against the reformers; but

this did not exempt from punishment such as, offending on the other

side, ventured to deny the royal supremacy; the only difference was,

that the former class of culprits were burned as heretics, the latter

hanged as traitors.

The king soon after seized the occasion of a trifling insurrection in

Yorkshire, of which sir John Nevil was the leader, to complete his

vengeance against cardinal Pole, by bringing to a cruel and ignominious

end the days of his venerable and sorrow-stricken mother, who had been

unfortunate enough thus long to survive the ruin of her family. The

strange and shocking scene exhibited on the scaffold by the desperation

of this illustrious and injured lady, is detailed by all our historians:

it seems almost incredible that the surrounding crowd were not urged by

an unanimous impulse of horror and compassion to rush in and rescue from

the murderous hands of the executioner the last miserable representative

of such a line of princes. But the eyes of Henry's subjects were

habituated to these scenes of blood; and they were viewed by some with

indifference, and by the rest with emotions of terror which effectually

repressed the generous movements of a just and manly indignation.

In public causes, to be accused and to suffer death were now the same

thing; and another eminent victim of the policy of the English Tiberius

displayed in a novel and truly portentous manner his utter despair of

the justice of the country and the mercy of his sovereign.

Lord Leonard Grey, late deputy of Ireland, was accused of favouring the

escape of that persecuted child his nephew Gerald Fitzgerald, of

corresponding with cardinal Pole, and of various other offences called

treasonable. Being brought before a jury of knights, "he saved them,"

says lord Herbert, "the labour of condemning him, and without more ado

confessed all. Which, whether this lord, who was of great courage, did

out of desperation or guilt, some circumstances make doubtful; and the

rather, that the articles being so many, he neither denied nor

extenuated any of them, though his continual fighting with the king's

enemies, where occasion was, pleaded much on his part. Howsoever, he had

his head cut off[8]."

[Note 8: Many years after, the earl of Kildare solemnly assured the

author of the "Chronicles of Ireland" in Holinshed, that lord Leonard

Grey had no concern whatever in his escape.]

The queen and her party were daily gaining upon the mind of the king;

and Cranmer himself, notwithstanding the high esteem entertained for him

by Henry, had begun to be endangered by their machinations, when an

unexpected discovery put into his hands the means of baffling all their

designs, and producing a total revolution in the face of the court.

It was towards the close of the year 1541 that private information was

conveyed to the primate of such disorders in the conduct of the queen

before her marriage as could not fail to plunge her in infamy and ruin.

Cranmer, if not exceedingly grieved, was at least greatly perplexed by

the incident:--at first sight there appeared to be equal danger in

concealing or discovering circumstances of a nature so delicate, and

the archbishop was timid by nature, and cautious from the experience of

a court. At length, all things well weighed, he judiciously preferred

the hazard of making the communication at once, without reserve, and

directly, to the person most interested; and, forming into a narrative

facts which his tongue dared not utter to the face of a prince whose

anger was deadly, he presented it to him and entreated him to peruse it

in secret.

Love and pride conspired to persuade the king that his Catherine was

incapable of having imposed upon him thus grossly, and he at once

pronounced the whole story a malicious fabrication; but the strict

inquiry which he caused to be instituted for the purpose of punishing

its authors, not only established the truth of the accusations already

brought, but served also to throw the strongest suspicions on the

conjugal fidelity of the queen.

The agonies of Henry on this occasion were such as in any other husband

would have merited the deepest compassion: with him they were quickly

succeeded by the most violent rage; and his cry for vengeance was, as

usual, echoed with alacrity by a loyal and sympathizing parliament.

Party animosity profited by the occasion and gave additional impulse to

their proceedings. After convicting by attainder the queen and her

paramours, who were soon after put to death, the two houses proceeded

also to attaint her uncle, aunt, grandmother, and about ten other

persons, male and female, accused of being accessary or privy to her

disorders before marriage, and of not revealing them to the king when

they became acquainted with his intention of making her his consort; an

offence declared to be misprision of treason by an ex post facto law.

But this was an excess of barbarity of which Henry himself was ashamed:

the infamous lady Rochford was the only confident who suffered

capitally; the rest were released after imprisonments of longer or

shorter duration; yet a reserve of bitterness appears to have remained

stored up in the heart of the king against the whole race of Howard,

which the enemies of that illustrious house well knew how to cherish and

augment against a future day.

Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth · 第 2 / 29 章