CATHERINE HOWARD, A CATHOLIC QUEEN.
(1540.)
Who should take the place of the repudiated queen? This was the
question discussed at court and in the town. The Anglican Catholics,
delighted at the dismissal of the Protestant queen, were determined to
do all they possibly could to place on the throne a woman of their own
party. Such a one was already found. The bishop of Winchester, for some
time past, had frequently been holding feasts and entertainments for
the king. To these he invited a young lady, who though of small stature
was of elegant carriage, and had handsome features and a graceful
figure and manners.[371] She was a daughter of Lord Edmund Howard, and
niece of the duke of Norfolk, the leader of the Catholic party. She
had very soon attracted the attention of the king, who took increasing
pleasure in her society. This occurred before the divorce of Anne. 'It
is a certain fact,' says a contemporary, 'that about the same time many
citizens of London saw the king very frequently in the daytime, and
sometimes at midnight, pass over to her on the river Thames in a little
boat.... The citizens regarded all this not as a sign of divorcing
the queen, but of adultery.'[372] Whether this supposition was well
founded or not we can not say. The king, when once he had decided on a
separation from Anne of Cleves, had thought of her successor. He was
quite determined, after his mischance, to be guided neither by his
ministers, nor by his ambassadors, nor by political considerations,
but solely by his own eyes, his own tastes, and the happiness he might
hope for. Catherine pleased him very much; and his union with Anne
was no sooner annulled than he proceeded to his fifth marriage. The
nuptials were celebrated on the 8th of August, eleven days after the
execution of Cromwell; and on the same day Catherine was presented at
court as queen. The king was charmed with Catherine Howard, his pretty
young wife; she was so amiable, her intercourse was so pleasant, that
he believed he had, after so many more or less unfortunate attempts,
found his ideal at last. Her virtuous sentiments, the good behavior
which she resolved to maintain, filled him with delight; and he was
ever expressing his happiness in 'having obtained such a jewel of
womanhood.'[373] He had no foreboding of the terrible blow which was
soon to shatter all this happiness.
[Sidenote: THE NEW QUEEN.]
The new queen was distinguished from the former chiefly by the
difference in religion, with a corresponding difference in morality.
The niece of the duke of Norfolk, Gardiner's friend, was of course an
adherent of the Catholic faith; and the Catholic party hailed her as at
once the symbol and the instrument of reaction. They had had plenty of
Protestant queens, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, and Anne of Cleves. Now
that they had a Catholic queen, Catholicism--many said popery--would
recover its power. Henry was so much enamored of his new spouse that,
in honor of her, he once more became a fervent Catholic. He celebrated
all the Saints' days, frequently received the holy sacrament, and
offered publicly thanksgiving to God for this happy union which he
hoped to enjoy for a long time.[374] The conversion of Henry, for the
change was nothing less, brought with it a change of policy. He now
abandoned France and the German Protestants in order to ally himself
with the empire; and we find him ere long busily engaged in a project
for the marriage of his daughter Mary to the emperor Charles V. This
project, however, came to nothing.[375] Gardiner, Norfolk, and the
other leaders of the Catholic party, rejoicing in the breeze which
bore their vessel onward, set all sails to the wind. Just after the
divorce of Anne of Cleves, and by way of a first boon to the Romish
party, the penalties for impure living imposed on priests and nuns were
mitigated.[376] In contempt of the authority of Holy Scripture as well
as of that of parliament itself, Henry got an Act passed by virtue of
which every determination concerning _faith_, worship, and ceremonies,
adopted with the sanction of the king by a commission of archbishops,
bishops, and other ecclesiastics nominated by him, _was to be received,
believed, and observed by the whole nation_, just as if parliament
had approved every one of these articles, even if this decree were
contrary to former usages and ordinances.[377] This was a proclamation
of infallibility in England for the benefit of the pope-king, under
cover of which he might found a religion to his own taste. Cranmer
had established in all cathedral churches professors entrusted with
the teaching of Hebrew and Greek, in order that students might become
well acquainted with sacred literature, and that the church might
never want ministers capable of edifying it. But the enemies of the
Reformation, who now enjoyed royal favor, fettered or abolished this
institution and other similar ones, to the great damage both of
religion and the country.[378] The Catholic ceremonies, on the other
hand, abrogated by Cranmer and Cromwell--the consecration of bread
and of water, the embers with which the priest marked the foreheads
of the faithful, the palm branches blessed on Palm Sunday, the tapers
carried at Candlemas, and other like customs--were re-established; and
penalties were imposed on those who should neglect them.[379] A new
edition of the 'Institution of a Christian Man' explained to the people
the king's doctrine. It treated of the seven sacraments, the mass,
transubstantiation, the salutation of the Virgin, and other doctrines
of the kind to which conformity was required.[380] At length, as if
with a view to ensure the permanence of this system, Bonner was made
bishop of London; and this man, who had been the most abject flatterer
and servant of Cromwell during his life, turned about after his death
and became the persecutor of those whom Cromwell had protected.
[Sidenote: BONNER, BISHOP OF LONDON.]
At the spectacle of this reaction, so marvellous in their eyes, the
Anglican Catholics and even the papists broke out with joy, and awaited
with impatience 'the crowning of the edifice.' England, in their view,
was saved. The church was triumphant. But while there was rejoicing
on the one side, there was mourning on the other. The establishment
of superstitious practices, the prospect of the penalties contained
in the bloody statute of the Six Articles, penalties which had not
yet been enforced but were on the point of being so, spread distress
and alarm among the evangelicals. Those who did not add to their
faith manly energy shut up their convictions in their own breasts,
carefully abstained from conversation on religious subjects, and looked
with suspicion upon every stranger, fearing that he might be one of
Gardiner's spies.
Bonner was active and eager, going forward in pursuit of his object
and allowing nothing to check him. Cromwell and Cranmer, to whom he
used to make fair professions, believed that he was capable of being
of service to the Reformation, and therefore gave him promotion in
ecclesiastical offices. But no sooner had Cromwell been put in prison
than his signal deceitfulness showed itself. Grafton, who printed the
Bible under the patronage of the vicegerent, having met Bonner, to whom
Cromwell had introduced him, exclaimed, 'How grieved I am to hear that
Lord Cromwell has been sent to the Tower!' 'It would have been much
better,' replied Bonner, 'if he had been sent there long ago.' Shortly
after, Grafton was cited before the council, and was accused of having
printed, by Cromwell's order, certain suspected verses; and Bonner, for
the purpose of aggravating his criminality, did not fail to report what
the accused had said to him about the man who had been his own personal
benefactor. The chancellor, however, a friend of Grafton, succeeded
in saving the printer of the Bible. Bonner indemnified himself for
this disappointment by persecuting a great many citizens of London. He
vented his rage especially on a poor youth of fifteen, ignorant and
uncultivated, named Mekins, whom he accused of having spoken against
the Eucharist and in favor of Barnes; but the grand jury found him 'not
guilty.' Hereupon Bonner became furious. 'You are perjured,' he said to
the jury. 'The witnesses do not agree,' they replied. The one deposed
that Mekins had said the sacrament was nothing but a 'ceremony'; and
the other that it was nothing but a 'signification.' 'But did he not
say,' exclaimed the bishop, 'that Barnes died holy?' 'But we can not
find these words,' said the jury, 'to be against the statute.' 'Upon
which Bonner cursed and was in a great rage.'[381] 'Retire again,' he
said, 'consult together, and bring in the bill.' Mekins was condemned
to die. In vain was it shown that he was a poor ignorant creature and
that he had done nothing worse than repeat what he had heard, and this
without even understanding it. In vain, too, did his father and mother,
who were in great distress, attempt to mitigate the harsh treatment to
which he was subjected in prison. The poor lad was ready to say or do
any thing to escape being burnt. They made him speak well of Bonner and
of his 'great charity towards him'; they made him declare that he hated
all heretics, and then they burnt him.[382] This was only the beginning
and Bonner hoped by such proceedings to prepare the way for greater
triumphs.
[Sidenote: PERSECUTION IN LONDON.]
The persecution became more general. Two hundred and two persons were
prosecuted in thirty-nine London parishes. Their offences were such as
the following--having read the Holy Scriptures aloud in the churches;
having refused to carry palm branches on Palm Sunday; having had one or
other of their kinsfolk buried without the masses for the dead; having
received Latimer, Barnes, Garret, or other evangelicals; having held
religious meetings in their houses of an evening; having said that the
holy sacrament was a good thing, but was not, as some asserted, God
himself; having spoken much about the Holy Scriptures; having declared
that they liked better to hear a sermon than a mass; and other the like
offences. Among the delinquents were some of the priests. One of these
was accused of having caused suspected persons to be invited to his
sermons by his beadle, without having the bells rung; another of having
preached without the orders of his superior; others, of not making use
of holy water, of not going in procession, &c.[383]
The Inquisition which was made at this time was so rigorous that
all the prisons of London would not hold the accused. They had to
place some of them in the halls of various buildings. The case was
embarrassing. The Catholics of the court were not alone in instigating
the king to persecution. Francis I. sent word to him by Wallop, 'that
it had well liked him to hear that his majesty _was reforming_ the
Lutheran sect, for that he was ever of opinion that no good could come
of them but much evil.'[384] But there were other influences at court
besides that of Francis I., Norfolk, and Gardiner. Lord Audley obtained
the king's sanction for the release of the prisoners, who, however, had
to give their promise to appear at the Star Chamber on All Souls' Day.
Ultimately they were let alone.
But this does not mean that all the evangelicals were spared. Two
ministers were at this time distinguished both for their high
connections and for their faith and eloquence. One of these was
the Scotchman, Seaton, chaplain to the duke of Suffolk. Preaching
powerfully at St. Antholin's church, in London, he said,--'"Of
ourselves we can do nothing," says St. Paul; "I pray thee, then, where
is thy will? Art thou better than Paul, James, Peter, and all the
apostles?" Hast thou any more grace than they? Tell me now if they
will be any thing or nothing?... Paul said he could do nothing.... If
you ask me when we will leave preaching only Christ, even when they do
leave to preach that works do merit, and suffer Christ to be a whole
satisfier and only mean to our justification.' Seaton was condemned
to bear a faggot at Paul's Cross.[385] Another minister, Dr. Crome,
was a learned man and a favorite of the archbishop. This did not
prevent the king from commanding him to preach that the sacrifice of
the mass is useful both for the living and the dead. Crome preached
the Gospel in its simplicity at St. Paul's on the appointed day, and
contented himself with reading the king's order after the sermon. He
was immediately forbidden to preach.[386]
Laymen were treated with greater severity. Bibles, it is known, had
been placed in all the churches, and were fastened by chains to the
pillars. A crowd of people used to gather about one of these pillars.
On one occasion a young man of fine figure, possessed of great zeal,
and gifted with a powerful voice, stood near the pillar holding the
Bible in his hands, and reading it aloud so that all might hear him.
His name was Porter. Bonner sharply rebuked him. 'I trust I have done
nothing against the law,' said Porter; and this was true. But the
bishop committed him to Newgate. There this young Christian was put
in irons; his legs, his arms, and his head were attached to the wall
by means of an iron collar. One of his kinsmen, by a gift of money,
induced the jailer to deliver him from this punishment; and the favor
they accorded him was to place him in the company of thieves and
murderers. Porter exhorted them to repent, and taught them the way of
salvation. The unhappy man was then cast into the deepest dungeon, was
cruelly treated, and loaded with irons. Eight days afterwards he died.
Cries and groans had been heard in the night. Some said that he had
been subjected to the torture called the devil, a horrible instrument
by which, in three or four hours, the back and the whole body were torn
in pieces.[387]
[Sidenote: CONSPIRACY AGAINST CRANMER.]
Meanwhile, a far more formidable blow was preparing. Cromwell, the
lay protector of the Reformation, had already been sacrificed; its
ecclesiastical protector, Cranmer, must now fall in the same way. This
second blow seemed easier than the first. Since the fall of Cromwell,
men of the utmost moderation thought 'there was no hope that reformed
religion should any one week longer stand.'[388] All those of feeble
character sided with the opposite party. Cranmer alone, amongst the
bishops and the ecclesiastical commissioners of the king, still upheld
evangelical truth. This obstacle in the way of the extension of
English Catholicism must be utterly overthrown. A commission of from
ten to twelve bishops and other competent men was formed to deliberate
as to the means of inducing the primate to make common cause with
them. Two bishops, Heath and Skyp, who enjoyed his confidence, 'left
him in the plain field.'[389] All these bishops and laymen, proud of
their victory, met at Lambeth palace, the abode of Cranmer, in order
to prosecute their scheme. After a few words exchanged to no purpose,
the two last-named bishops begged the archbishop to go down with them
into the garden, and there, as they paced up and down the paths, they
plied him with such reasons as they thought most urgent to induce him
'to leave off his overmuch constancy and to incline unto the king's
intent.' One or two friends of the primate joined them, and they made
use of all the resources of their eloquence and their policy for the
purpose of shaking his resolution. But Cranmer was like the river
which flowed quietly past his dwelling, which nothing can turn from
its course. He even took the offensive. 'You make much ado to have me
come to your purpose,' said he; ... 'beware, I say, what you do. There
is but one truth in our articles to be concluded upon, which if you do
hide from his highness ... and then when the truth can not be hidden
from him, his highness shall perceive how that you have dealt colorably
with him ... he will never after trust and credit you.... As you are
both my friends, so therefore I will you to beware thereof in time, and
discharge your consciences in maintenance of the truth.'[390]
[Sidenote: CHARGES AGAINST HIM.]
This was far from pacifying the bishops. Doctor London and other agents
of the party which looked up to Gardiner as its head, took in hand
to go over the diocese of the archbishop with a view to collecting
all the sayings and all the facts, true or false, which they might
turn to account as weapons against him. In one place a conversation
was reported to them; in another a sermon was denounced; elsewhere
neglected ritual was talked about. 'Three of the preachers of the
cathedral church,' they were told, namely, Ridley, Drum and Scory, 'are
attacking the ceremonies of the church.' Some of the canons, opponents
of the primate, brought various charges against him, and strove to
depict his marriage in the most repulsive colors. Sir John Gostwick,
whose accounts as treasurer of war and of the court were not correct,
accused Cranmer before the parliament of being the pastor of heretics.
All these grievances were set forth in a memorial which was presented
to the king. At the same time, the most influential members of the
privy council declared to the king that the realm was infested with
heresies; that thereby 'horrible commotions and uproars' might spring
up, as had been the case in Germany; and that these calamities must be
chiefly imputed to the archbishop of Canterbury, who both by his own
preaching and that of his chaplains had filled England with pernicious
doctrines. 'Who is his accuser?' said the king. The lords replied:
'Forasmuch as Cranmer is a councillor, no man durst take upon him to
accuse him. But if it please your highness to commit him to the Tower
for a time, there would be accusations and proofs enough against him.'
'Well then,' said the king, 'I grant you leave to commit him to-morrow
to the Tower for his trial.' The enemies of the archbishop and of the
Reformation went away well content.[391]
Meanwhile, Henry VIII. began to reflect on the answer which he had
given to his councillors. There is nothing to show that it was not made
in earnest; but he foresaw that Cranmer's death would leave an awkward
void. When Cranmer was gone, how should he maintain the conflict with
the pope and the papists, with whom he had no mind to be reconciled?
The primate's character and services came back to his memory. Time was
passing. At midnight the king, unable to sleep, sent for Sir Antony
Denny and said to him, 'Go to Lambeth and command the archbishop to
come forthwith to the court.' Henry then in a state of excitement,
began to walk about in one of the corridors of the palace, awaiting
the arrival of Cranmer. At length the primate entered and the king
said to him: 'Ah, my lord of Canterbury, I can tell you news.... It is
determined by me and the council, that you to-morrow at nine o'clock
shall be committed to the Tower, for that you and your chaplains (as
information is given us) have taught and preached, and thereby sown
within the realm such a number of execrable heresies, that it is feared
the whole realm being infected with them no small contentions and
commotions will rise thereby amongst my subjects, ... and therefore the
council have requested me, for the trial of this matter, to suffer them
to commit you to the Tower.'
[Sidenote: THE KING'S INTERVENTION.]
The story of Cromwell was to be repeated, and this was the first
step. Nevertheless, Cranmer did not utter a word of opposition or
supplication. Kneeling down before the king, according to his custom,
he said: 'I am content, if it please your grace, with all my heart to
go thither at your highness's commandment, and I most humbly thank your
majesty that I may come to my trial, for there be that have many ways
slandered me, and now this way I hope to try myself not worthy of such
a report.' The king, touched by his uprightness, said: 'Oh Lord, what
manner of man be you! What simplicity is in you!... Do you not know...
how many great enemies you have? Do you consider what an easy thing it
is to procure three or four false knaves to witness against you? Think
you to have better luck that way than Christ your master had? I see
it, you will run headlong to your undoing, if I would suffer you. Your
enemies shall not so prevail against you, for I have otherwise devised
with myself to keep you out of their hands. Yet, notwithstanding,
to-morrow when the council shall sit and send for you, resort unto
them; and if in charging you with this matter they do commit you
to the Tower, require of them... that you may have your accusers
brought before them and that you may answer their accusations....
If no entreaty or reasonable request will serve, then deliver unto
them this ring'--the king at the same time delivered his ring to the
archbishop--'and say unto them: If there be no remedy, my lords, but
that I must needs go to the Tower, then I revoke my cause from you and
appeal to the king's own person by this his token to you all. So soon
as they shall see this my ring, they know it so well, that they shall
understand that I have resumed the whole cause into mine own hands.'
The archbishop was so much moved by the king's kindness that he 'had
much ado to forbear tears.' 'Well,' said the king, 'go your ways, my
lord, and do as I have bidden you.'[392] The archbishop bent his knee
in expression of his gratitude, and taking leave of the king returned
to Lambeth before day.
On the morrow, about nine o'clock, the council sent an usher of the
palace to summon the archbishop. He set out forthwith and presented
himself at the door of the council chamber. But his colleagues, glad
to complete the work which they had begun by putting the vicegerent
to death, were not content with sending the primate to the scaffold;
but were determined to subject Cranmer to various humiliations
before the final catastrophe. The archbishop could not be let in,
but was compelled to wait there among the pages, lackeys, and other
serving-men. Doctor Butts, the king's physician, happening to pass
through the room, and observing how the archbishop was treated, went
to the king and said: 'My lord of Canterbury, if it please your grace,
is well promoted; for now he is become a lackey or a serving-man, for
yonder he standeth this half hour without the council-chamber door
amongst them.' 'It is not so,' said the king, 'I trow, nor the council
hath not so little discretion as to use the metropolitan of the realm
in that sort, especially being one of their own number; but let them
alone, and we shall hear more soon.'
At length the archbishop was admitted. He did as the king had bidden
him: and when he saw that none of his statements or reasons were of
any avail with the council, he presented the king's ring, appealing at
the same time to his Majesty. Hereupon, the whole council was struck
with astonishment;[393] and the earl of Bedford, who was not one of
Gardiner's party, with a solemn oath exclaimed: 'When you first began
this matter, my lords, I told you what would come of it. Do you think
that the king will suffer this man's finger to ache? Much more, I
warrant you, will he defend his life against brabbling varlets. You
do but cumber yourselves to hear tales and fables against him.' The
members of the council immediately rose and carried the king's ring to
him, thus surrendering the matter, according to the usage of the time,
into his hands.
[Sidenote: AN APPROACHING CHANGE.]
When they had all come into the presence of the king, he said to them
with a severe countenance: 'Ah, my lords, I thought I had had wiser
men of my council than now I find you. What discretion was this in
you, thus to make the primate of the realm, and one of you in office,
to wait at the council-chamber door amongst serving men?... You had
no such commission of me so to handle him. I was content that you
should try him as a councillor, and not as a mean subject. But now
I well perceive that things be done against him maliciously; and if
some of you might have had your minds, you would have tried him to the
uttermost. But I do you all to wit, and protest, that if a prince may
be beholding unto his subject' (and here Henry laid his hand solemnly
upon his breast), 'by the faith I owe to God, I take this man here, my
lord of Canterbury, to be of all other a most faithful subject unto us,
and one to whom we are much beholding.' The Catholic members of the
council were disconcerted, confused, and unable to make any answer. One
or two of them, however, took courage, made excuses, and assured the
king that their object in trying the primate was to clear him of the
calumnies of the world, and not to proceed against him maliciously. The
king, who was not to be imposed upon by these hypocritical assertions,
said: 'Well, well, my lords, take him and well use him, as he is worthy
to be, and make no more ado.' All the lords then went up to Cranmer,
and took him by the hand as if they had been his dearest friends. The
archbishop, who was of a conciliatory disposition, forgave them. But
the king sent to prison for a certain time some of the archbishop's
accusers; and he sent a message to Sir J. Gostwick, to the effect that
he was a wicked varlet, and that unless he made his apologies to the
metropolitan, he would make of him an example which should be a warning
to all false accusers. These facts are creditable to Henry VIII. It
was doubtless his aim to keep a certain middle course; and like many
other despots he had happy intervals. There were other evidences of
this fact. Four great Bibles appeared with his sanction in 1541; two of
them bearing the name of Tonstall, the other two that of Cranmer.[394]
Moreover, a sudden change was approaching which was to alter the whole
course of things.
At the end of August, 1541, Henry went to York,[395] for the purpose of
holding an interview with his nephew, the king of Scotland, whom he was
anxious to persuade to declare himself independent of the pope. Henry
made magnificent preparations for his reception; but Cardinal Beatoun
prevented the young prince from going. This excited the bitterest
discontent in Henry's mind, and became afterwards the cause of a
breach. The queen, who accompanied him, endeavored to divert him from
his vexation; and the king, more and more pleased with his marriage,
after his return to London, made public thanksgiving on All Saints' Day
(October 24), that God had given him so amiable and excellent a wife,
and even requested the bishop of Lincoln to join in his commendations
of her. This excessive satisfaction was ere long to be interrupted.[396]
[Sidenote: DISCLOSURES ABOUT THE QUEEN.]
During the king's journey, one John Lascelles, who had a married sister
living in the county of Sussex, paid her a visit. This woman had
formerly been in the service of the old duchess of Norfolk, grandmother
to the queen, and by whom Catherine had been brought up. In the course
of conversation the brother and sister talked about this young lady,
whom the sister had known well, and who had now become wife to the
king. The brother, ambitious for his sister's advancement, said to her:
'You ought to ask the queen to place you among her attendants.' 'I
shall certainly not do so,' she answered; 'I can not think of the queen
but with sadness.' 'Why?' 'She is so frivolous in character and in
life.' 'How so?' Then the woman related that Catherine had had improper
intercourse with one of the officers of the ducal house of Norfolk,
named Francis Derham; and that she had been very familiar with another
whose name was Mannock. Lascelles perceived the importance of these
statements; and as he could not take upon himself the responsibility
of concealing them, he determined to report them to the archbishop.
The communication greatly embarrassed Cranmer. If he should keep the
matter secret and it should afterwards become known, he would be
ruined. Nor would he less certainly be ruined if he should divulge
it, and then no proof be forthcoming. But what chiefly weighed upon
his mind was the thought of the agitation which would be excited. To
think of another wife of the king executed at the Tower! To think
of his prince, his country, and perhaps also the work which was in
process of accomplishment in England, becoming the objects of ridicule
and perhaps of abhorrence! As he was unwilling to assume alone the
responsibility imposed by so grave a communication, he opened his mind
on the subject to the lord chancellor and to other members of the
privy council, to whom the king had entrusted the despatch of business
during his absence. 'They were greatly troubled and inquieted.'[397]
After having well weighed the reasons for and against, they came to
the conclusion that, as this matter mainly concerned the king, Cranmer
should inform him of it. This was a hard task to undertake; and the
archbishop, who was deeply affected, durst not venture to make _viva
voce_ so frightful a communication. He therefore put down in writing
the report which had been made to him, and had it laid before the king.
The latter was terribly shocked; but as he tenderly loved his wife
and had a high opinion of her virtue, he said that it was a calumny.
However, he privately assembled in his cabinet the lord privy seal, the
lord admiral, Sir Antony Brown, and Sir Thomas Wriothesley, a friend
of the duke of Norfolk, who had taken a leading part in the divorce of
Anne of Cleves, and laid the case before them, declaring at the same
time that he did not believe in it. These lords privately examined
Lascelles and his sister, who persisted in their depositions; next
Mannock and Derham, who asserted the truth of their statements; the
latter, moreover, mentioning three of the duchess of Norfolk's women
who likewise had knowledge of the facts. The members of the council
made their report to the king, who, pierced with grief, remained
silent for some time. At length he burst into tears, and commanded the
duke of Norfolk, the queen's uncle, the archbishop of Canterbury, the
high chamberlain, and the bishop of Winchester, who had promoted the
marriage, to go to Catherine and examine her. At first she denied every
thing. But when Cranmer was sent to her, on the evening of the first
inquisition, the words of the primate, his admonitions, the reports
which he made to her, which proved that her conduct was perfectly well
known, convinced her of the uselessness of her denials, and she then
made full confession, and even added some strange details. It does
not appear that the queen felt it her duty to confess her offences to
God, but she resolved at least to confess them to men. While making
her confession she was in a state of so great agitation that the
archbishop was in dread every moment of her losing her reason. He
thought, according to her confessions, that she had been seduced by the
infamous Derham, with the privity even of his own wife. The household
of the duchess-dowager of Norfolk appears to have been very disorderly.
Cranmer wrote down or caused to be written this confession, and
Catherine signed it.[398] He had scarcely left the unhappy woman, when
she fell into a state of raving delirium.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S FRENZY.]
The king was thrown into great excitement by the news of Catherine's
confession of the reality of his misfortune. The very intensity of
his love served to increase his trouble and his wrath; but, for all
this, some feeling of pity remained in his heart. 'Return to her,' he
said to Cranmer, 'and first make use of the strongest expressions to
give her a sense of the greatness of her offences; secondly, state
to her what the law provides in such cases, and what she must suffer
for her crime; and lastly express to her my feelings of pity and
forgiveness.' Cranmer returned to Catherine and found her in a fit
of passion so violent that he never remembered--so he wrote to the
king--seeing any creature in such a state. The keepers told him that
this vehement rage had continued from his departure from her.[399]
'It would have pitied,' said the good archbishop, 'any man's heart
in the world to have looked upon her.' Indeed, she was almost in a
frenzy; she was not without strength, but her strength was that of a
frantic person. The archbishop had had too much experience in the cure
of souls, to adopt the order prescribed by the king. He saw that if
he spoke first to her of the crime and its punishment, he might throw
her into some dangerous ecstasy, from which she could not be rescued.
He therefore began with the last part of the royal message, and told
the queen that his majesty's mercy extended to her, and that he had
compassion on her misfortune. Catherine hereupon lifted up her hands,
became quiet, and gave utterance to the humblest thanksgivings to the
king who showed her so much mercy. She became more self-possessed;
continuing, however, to sob and weep. But 'after a little pausing, she
suddenly fell into a new rage, much worse than she was before.'[400]
Cranmer, desirous of delivering her from this frightful delirium,
said to her: 'Some new fantasy has come into your head, madam; pray
open it to me.' After a time, when her passion subsided and she was
capable of speech, she wept freely and said: 'Alas, my lord, that I am
alive! The fear of death grieved me not so much before, as doth now the
remembrance of the king's goodness. For when I remember how gracious
and loving a prince I had, I can not but sorrow; but this sudden mercy,
and more than I could have looked for, showed unto me so unworthy at
this time, maketh mine offences to appear before mine eyes much more
heinous than they did before; and the more I consider the greatness of
his mercy, the more I do sorrow in my heart that I should so misorder
myself against his majesty.' The fact that the compassion of the king
touched Catherine more than the fear of a trial and of death, seemed
to indicate a state of mind less wayward than one might have expected.
But in vain Cranmer said to her every thing calculated to pacify her;
she remained for a long time 'in a great pang;' and even fell soon
into another frightful passion. At length, in the afternoon she came
gradually to herself, and was in a quiet state till night. Cranmer,
during this interval of relief, had 'good communications with her.'
He rejoiced at having brought her into some quiet. She told him that
there had been a marriage contract between her and Derham, only verbal
indeed, she said; but that nevertheless, though never announced and
acknowledged, it had been consummated. She added that she had acted
under compulsion of that man.[401] At six o'clock, she had another
fit of frenzy. 'Ah,' she said afterwards to Cranmer, 'when the clock
struck, I remembered the time when Master Heneage was wont to bring
me knowledge of his Grace.' In consequence of Cranmer's report, Henry
commanded that the queen should be conducted to Sion House, where two
apartments were to be assigned to her and attendants nominated by the
king.[402]
Charges against Catherine were accumulating. She had taken into
her service, as queen, the wretched Derham and, employing him as
secretary, had often admitted him into her private apartments; and
this the council regarded as evidence of adultery.[403] She had also
again attached to herself one of the women implicated in her first
irregularities. At length it was proved that another gentleman, one
Culpeper, a kinsman of her mother, had been introduced, in the king's
absence on a journey, into the queen's private apartments by Lady
Rochford, at a suspicious hour and under circumstances which usually
indicate crime. Culpeper confessed it.
[Sidenote: EXECUTIONS.]
Now began the condemnations and the executions; and Henry VIII.
included in the trial not only those who were guilty but also the near
relatives and servants of the queen, who, though well knowing her
offences, had not reported them to the king. On the 7th, the council
determined that the duchess-dowager of Norfolk, grandmother to the
queen, her uncle, Lord William Howard, her aunts Lady Howard and Lady
Bridgewater, together with Alice Wilks, Catherine Tylney, Damport,
Walgrave, Malin Tilney, Mary Lascelles, Bulmer, Ashby, Anne Haward
and Margaret Benet were all guilty of not having revealed the crime
of high treason, and that they should be prosecuted. On the 8th the
king ordered that all these persons, Mary Lascelles excepted, should
be committed to the Tower: and this was done. Lord William Howard was
imprisoned on December 9; the duchess of Norfolk on the 10th, and Lady
Bridgewater on the 13th. All of them stoutly protested their ignorance
and their innocence.[404] On December 10, 1541, Culpeper was beheaded
at Tyburn; and the same day Derham was hung, drawn and quartered.[405]
Meanwhile, the duke of Norfolk had taken refuge at Kenninghall, about
eighty miles from London. On December 15, he wrote to the king, saying
that by reason of the offences committed by his family he found himself
in the utmost perplexity. Twice in his letter he 'prostrates himself
at the king's feet;' and he expresses 'some hope that your Highness
will not conceive any displeasure in your most gentle heart against
me; that, God knoweth, never did think thought which might be to your
discontentation.'[406] There did, however, remain something in the
'most gentle heart' of Henry VIII.
Parliament met, by the king's command, on January 16, 1542, to give
its attention to this business. Thus it was to the highest national
assembly that the king entrusted the regulation of his domestic
interests. On January 21, the chancellor introduced in the upper house
a bill in which the king was requested not to trouble himself about the
matter, considering that it might shorten his life; to declare guilty
of high treason the queen and all her accomplices; and to condemn the
queen and Lady Rochford to death. The bill passed both houses and
received the royal assent.[407]
On February 12, the queen and Lady Rochford, her accomplice, were taken
to Tower Hill and beheaded. The queen, while she confessed the offences
which had preceded her marriage, protested to the last before God and
his holy angels that she had never violated her faith to the king. But
her previous offences gave credibility to those which were subsequent
to her marriage. With regard to Lady Rochford, the confidant of the
queen, she was universally hated. People called to mind the fact that
her calumnies had been the principal cause of the death of the innocent
Anne Boleyn and of her own husband; and nobody was sorry for her. The
king pardoned the old duchess of Norfolk and some others who had been
prosecuted for not disclosing the crime.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S GUILT.]
These events did not call forth within the realm many remarks of a
painful kind for Henry VIII.; but the great example of immorality
presented by the English court lessened the esteem in which it was held
in Europe. There was no lack of similar licentiousness in France and
elsewhere; but there a veil was thrown over it, while in England it
was public talk. Opinion afterwards became severe with regard to the
king; and when his conduct to three of his former wives was remembered,
people said of the disgrace cast on him by Catherine Howard, he well
deserved it. As for the Catholic party, which had given Catherine
to Henry and had cherished the hope that by her influence it should
achieve its final triumph, it was greatly mortified, and it has been so
down to our own time. Some Catholics, referring to these offences, have
tried to lessen the abhorrence and the shame of them by saying 'that
a conspiracy was hatched to bring the queen to the scaffold.' But the
evidence produced against Catherine is so clear that they have been
obliged to alter their tone. Catholicism assuredly has had its virtuous
princesses in abundance, but it must be acknowledged that she who
became its patroness in England in 1541 did not do it much honor.[408]
The elevation of Catherine Howard to the throne had been followed by an
elevation of Catholicism in England; and the fall of this unhappy woman
was followed by a depression of the party to which she belonged. This
is our reason for dwelling on her history. These last events appear to
have given offence at Rome. Pope Paul III. displayed more irritation
than ever against Henry VIII. One of the king's ambassadors at Venice
wrote to him at this time,--'The bishop of Rome is earnestly at work to
bring about a union of the emperor and the king of France for the ruin
of your majesty;' and the secret reflection that the count Ludovico de
Rangon had been in England filled the pope with fury[409] and rage.
The zeal and the caution of Cranmer in the affair of Catherine had
greatly increased the king's liking for him. Cranmer, however, was in
no haste to take advantage of this to get any bold measures passed in
favor of the Reformation. He knew that any such attempt would have had
a contrary result. But he lost no opportunity of diffusing in England
the principles of the Reformation.
Parliament met on January 16, 1542, and the Convocation of the clergy
on the 20th of the same month. On Friday, February 17, the translation
of the Holy Scriptures was on the order of the day. The suppression of
the English Bible was desired by the majority of the bishops, most of
all by Gardiner, who, since the fall of Catherine Howard, felt more
than ever the necessity of resisting reformation. As he was unable to
re-establish at once the Vulgate as a whole, he endeavored to retain
what he could of it in the translation, so that the people might not
understand what they read and might abandon it altogether. He proposed
therefore to keep in the English translation one hundred and two
Latin words 'for the sake of their native meaning and their dignity.'
Among these words were--_Ecclesia_, _pœnitentia_, _pontifex_,
_holocaustum_, _simulacrum_, _episcopus_, _confessio_, _hostia_, and
others. In addition to the design which he entertained of preventing
the people from understanding what they read, he had still another in
regard to such as might understand any part of it. If he was desirous
of retaining certain words, this was for the purpose of retaining
certain dogmas. 'Witness,' says Fuller, 'the word _Penance_, which
according to _vulgar sound_, contrary to the original sense thereof,
was a _magazine of willworship_, and brought in much _gain_ to the
_Priests_ who were desirous to _keep_ that _word_, because that
_word kept them_.'[410] Cranmer gave the king warning of the matter;
and it was agreed that the bishops should have nothing to do with
the translation of the Bible. On March 10 the archbishop informed
Convocation that it was the king's intention to have the translation
examined by the two universities. The bishops were greatly annoyed; but
Cranmer assured them that the king's determination was to be carried
out. All the prelates but two protested against this course. This
decree, however, had no other object than to get rid of the bishops,
for the universities were never consulted. This was obviously a blow
struck at the Convocation of the clergy.[411]
[Sidenote: HYPOCRISY OF BONNER.]
The change which resulted from the disgrace of the Howards was apparent
even in the case of the enemies of the Reformation. Bonner, bishop
of London, a man at once violent and fickle, who after the death of
Cromwell had suddenly turned against the Reformation, after the death
of Catherine made a show of turning in the contrary direction. He
published various admonitions and injunctions for the guidance of his
diocese. 'It is very expedient,' he said to the laity, 'that whosoever
repaireth hither [to the church] to read this book, or any such like,
in any other place, he prepare himself chiefly and principally with
all devotion, humility and quietness to be edified and made the better
thereby.' To the clergy he said: 'Every parson, vicar and curate shall
read over and diligently study every week one chapter of the Bible,...
proceeding from chapter to chapter, from the beginning of the Gospel
of Matthew, to the end of the New Testament.... You are to instruct,
teach and bring up in learning the best ye can all such children of
your parishioners as shall come to you for the same; or at the least
to teach them to read English,... so that they may thereby the better
learn and know how to believe, how to pray, how to live to God's
pleasure.'[412]