the repose and security of Mary; and it was foreseen, that though the
factions and disorders which might naturally be expected in the Scottish
government during the absence of the sovereign, would make its power
less formidable, that kingdom would at least afford to the French a
means of invading England. The queen, therefore, found it necessary
to summon a parliament, and to demand of them some supplies to her
exhausted exchequer. As such an emergency usually gives great advantage
to the people; and as the parliaments during this reign had shown that,
where the liberty and independency of the kingdom were menaced with
imminent danger, they were not entirely overawed by the court; we shall
naturally expect that the late arbitrary methods of extorting money
should at least be censured, and perhaps some remedy be for the
future provided against them. The commons, however, without making any
reflections on the past, voted, besides a fifteenth, a subsidy of four
shillings in the pound on land, and two shillings and eightpence on
goods. The clergy granted eight shillings in the pound, payable, as was
also the subsidy of the laity, in four years by equal portions.
The parliament also passed an act, confirming all the sales and grants
of crown lands, which either were already made by the queen, or should
be made during the seven ensuing years. It was easy to foresee that, in
Mary’s present disposition and situation, this power would be followed
by a great alienation of the royal demesnes; and nothing could be more
contrary to the principles of good government, than to establish a
prince with very extensive authority, yet permit him to be reduced
to beggary. This act met with opposition in the house of commons. One
Copely expressed his fears lest the queen, under color of the power
there granted, might alter the succession, and alienate the crown from
the lawful heir; but his words were thought “irreverent” to her majesty:
he was committed to the custody of the serjeant at arms, and though he
expressed sorrow for his offence, he was not released till the queen was
applied to for his pardon.
The English nation, during this whole reign, were under great
apprehensions with regard not only to the succession, but the life of
the lady Elizabeth. The violent hatred which the queen bore to her broke
out on every occasion; and it required all the authority of Philip, as
well as her own great prudence, to prevent the fatal effects of it. The
princess retired into the country, and knowing that she was surrounded
with spies, she passed her time wholly in reading and study,
intermeddled in no business, and saw very little company. While she
remained in this situation, which for the present was melancholy, but
which prepared her mind for those great actions by which her life was
afterwards so much distinguished, proposals of marriage were made to her
by the Swedish Ambassador, in his master’s name. As her first question
was, whether the queen had been informed of these proposals, the
ambassador told her, that his master thought, as he was a gentleman, it
was his duty first to make his addresses to herself, and having obtained
her consent, he would next, as a king, apply to her sister. But the
princess would allow him to proceed no further; and the queen, after
thanking her for this instance of duty, desired to know how she stood
affected to the Swedish proposals. Elizabeth, though exposed to many
present dangers and mortifications, had the magnanimity to reserve
herself for better fortune; and she covered her refusal with professions
of a passionate attachment to a single life, which, she said, she
infinitely preferred before any other.[*] The princess showed like
prudence in concealing her sentiments of religion, in complying with the
present modes of worship, and in eluding all questions with regard to
that delicate subject.[**]
* Burnet, vol. ii. Coll. No. 37.
** The common net at that time, says Sir Richard Baker, for
catching of Protestants, was the real presence; and this net
was used to catch the lady Elizabeth; for being asked, one
time, what she thought of the words of Christ. “This is my
body,” whether she thought it the true body of Christ that
was in the sacrament, it is said that, after some pausing,
she thus answered:--
“Christ was the word that spake it;
He took the bread and brake it;
And what the word did make it,
That I believe, and take it.”
Which, though it may seem but a slight expression, yet hath
it more solidness than at first sight appears; at least, it
served her turn, at that time, to escape the net, which, by
a direct answer, she could not have done. Baker’s Chronicle,
p. 320.
The money granted by parliament enabled the queen to fit out a fleet of
a hundred and forty sail, which, being joined by thirty Flemish ships,
and carrying six thousand land forces on board, was sent to make an
attempt on the coast of Brittany. The fleet was commanded by Lord
Clinton; the land forces by the earls of Huntingdon and Rutland. But
the equipment of the fleet and army was so dilatory that the French
got intelligence of the design, and were prepared to receive them. The
English found Brest so well guarded as to render an attempt on that
place impracticable; but, landing at Conquet, they plundered and burnt
the town, with some adjacent villages, and were proceeding to commit
greater disorders, when Kersimon, a Breton gentleman, at the head of
some militia, fell upon them, put them to rout, and drove them to their
ships with considerable loss. But a small squadron of ten English ships
had an opportunity of amply revenging this disgrace upon the French.
The mareschal de Thermes, governor of Calais, had made an irruption into
Flanders, with an army of fourteen thousand men, and, having forced a
passage over the River Aa, had taken Dunkirk and Berg St. Winoc, and had
advanced as far as Newport; but Count Egmont coming suddenly upon him
with superior forces, he was obliged to retreat; and being overtaken by
the Spaniards near Gravelines, and finding a battle inevitable, he chose
very skilfully his ground for the engagement. He fortified his left wing
with all the precautions possible, and posted his right along the River
Aa, which, he reasonably thought, gave him full security from that
quarter. But the English ships, which were accidently on the coast,
being drawn by the noise of the firing, sailed up the river, and,
flanking the French, did such execution by their artillery that they put
them to flight, and the Spaniards gained a complete victory.[*]
* Holigshed, p. 1150.
Meanwhile the principal army of France under the duke of Guise, and that
of Spain under the duke of Savoy, approached each other on the frontiers
of Picardy; and as the two kings had come into their respective camps,
attended by the flower of their nobility, men expected that some great
and important event would follow from the emulation of these warlike
nations. But Philip, though actuated by the ambition, possessed not the
enterprising genius of a conqueror; and he was willing, notwithstanding
the superiority of his numbers, and the two great victories which he
had gained at St. Quintin and Gravelines, to put a period to the war
by treaty. Negotiations were entered into for that purpose; and as the
terms offered by the two monarchs were somewhat wide of each other,
the armies were put into winter quarters till the princes could come to
better agreement. Among other conditions, Henry demanded the restitution
of Navarre to its lawful owner; Philip, that of Calais and its territory
to England; but in the midst of these negotiations, news arrived of the
death of Mary; and Philip, no longer connected with England, began
to relax in his firmness on that capital article. This was the only
circumstance that could have made the death of that princess be
regretted by the nation.
Mary had long been in a declining state of health; and having mistaken
her dropsy for a pregnancy, she had made use of an improper regimen,
and her malady daily augmented. Every reflection now tormented her.
The consciousness of being hated by her subjects, the prospect of
Elizabeth’s succession, apprehensions of the danger to which the
Catholic religion stood exposed, dejection for the loss of Calais,
concern for the ill state of her affairs, and, above all, anxiety for
the absence of her husband, who, she knew, intended soon to depart for
Spain, and to settle there during the remainder of his life,--all
these melancholy reflections preyed upon her mind, and threw her into a
lingering fever, of which she died, after a short and unfortunate reign
of five years four months and eleven days.
It is not necessary to employ many words in drawing the character of
this princess. She possessed few qualities either estimable or amiable;
and her person was as little engaging as her behavior and address.
Obstinacy, bigotry, violence, cruelty, malignity, revenge, tyranny;
every circumstance of her character took a tincture from her bad temper
and narrow understanding. And amidst that complication of vices which
entered into her composition, we shall scarcely find any virtue but
sincerity; a quality which she seems to have maintained throughout her
whole life; except in the beginning of her reign, when the necessity of
her affairs obliged her to make some promises to the Protestants, which
she certainly never intended to perform. But in these cases a weak,
bigoted woman, under the government of priests, easily finds casuistry
sufficient to justify to herself the violation of a promise. She
appears, also, as well as her father, to have been susceptible of some
attachments of friendship; and that without the caprice and inconstancy
which were so remarkable in the conduct of that monarch. To which we
may add, that in many circumstances of her life she gave indications
of resolution and vigor of mind, a quality which seems to have been
inherent in her family.
Cardinal Pole had long been sickly from an intermitting fever; and he
died the same day with the queen, about sixteen hours after her. The
benign character of this prelate, the modesty and humanity of his
deportment, made him be universally beloved; insomuch that in a nation
where the most furious persecution was carried on, and where the most
violent religious factions prevailed, entire justice, even by most of
the reformers, has been done to his merit. The haughty pontiff, Paul
IV., had entertained some prejudices against him; and when England
declared war against Henry, the ally of that pope, he seized the
opportunity of revenge; and revoking Pole’s legatine commission,
appointed in his room Cardinal Peyto, an Observantine friar, and
confessor to the queen. But Mary would never permit the new legate to
act upon the commission; and Paul was afterwards obliged to restore
Cardinal Pole to his authority.
There occur few general remarks, besides what have already been made
in the course of our narration, with regard to the general state of
the kingdom during this reign. The naval power of England was then
so inconsiderable, that fourteen thousand pounds being ordered to be
applied to the fleet, both for repairing and victualling it, it was
computed that ten thousand pounds a year would afterwards answer all
necessary charges.[*]
* Burnet, vol. iii. p. 259.
The arbitrary proceedings of the queen above mentioned, joined to many
monopolies granted by this princess, as well as by her father, checked
the growth of commerce; and so much the more, as all other princes
in Europe either were not permitted, or did not find it necessary, to
proceed in so tyrannical a manner. Acts of parliament, both in the last
reign and in the beginning of the present, had laid the same impositions
on the merchants of the still-yard as on other aliens; yet the queen,
immediately after her marriage, complied with the solicitations of the
emperor, and by her prerogative suspended those laws.[*] Nobody in that
age pretended to question this exercise of prerogative. The historians
are entirely silent with regard to it; and it is only by the collection
of public papers that it is handed down to us.
An absurd law had been made in the preceding reign, by which every one
was prohibited from making cloth unless he had served an apprenticeship
of seven years. The law was repealed in the first year of the queen; and
this plain reason given, that it had occasioned the decay of the woollen
manufacture, and had ruined several towns.[**] It is strange that
Edward’s law should have been revived during the reign of Elizabeth; and
still more strange that it should still subsist.
A passage to Archangel had been discovered by the English during the
last reign; and a beneficial trade with Muscovy had been established. A
solemn embassy was sent by the czar to Queen Mary. The ambassadors were
shipwrecked on the coast of Scotland; but being hospitably entertained
there, they proceeded on the journey, and were received at London
with great pomp and solemnity.[***] This seems to have been the first
intercourse which that empire had with any of the western potentates of
Europe.
A law was passed in this reign,[****] by which the number of horses,
arms and furniture, was fixed which each person, according to the extent
of his property, should be provided with for the defence of the kingdom.
A man of a thousand pounds a year, for instance, was obliged to maintain
at his own charge six horses fit for demi-lances, of which three at
least to be furnished with sufficient harness, steel saddles, and
weapons proper for the demi-lances; and ten horses fit for light
horsemen, with furniture and weapons proper for them: he was obliged
to have forty corselets furnished; fifty almain revets, or, instead of
them, forty coats of plate, corse, etc. or brigandines furnished; forty
pikes, thirty long bows, thirty sheafs of arrows, thirty steel caps or
skulls, twenty black bills or halberts, twenty harquebuts, and twenty
morions or sallets. We may remark that a man of a thousand marks of
stock was rated equal to one of two hundred pounds a year; a proof that
few or none at that time lived on their stock in money, and that great
profits were made by the merchants in the course of trade. There is no
class above a thousand pounds a year.
* Rymer, vol. xv. p. 364.
** 1 Mar. Parl. 2, cap, 7.
*** Holingshed, p. 732. Heylin, p. 71.
**** 4 and 5 Phil. and Mar. cap. 2.
We pay form a notion of the little progress made in arts and refinement
about this time, from one circumstance; a man of no less rank than the
comptroller of Edward VI.’s household paid only thirty shillings a year
of our present money for his house in Channel Row;[*] yet labor and
provisons, and consequently houses, were only about a third of the
present price. Erasmus ascribes the frequent plagues in England to the
nastiness, and dirt, and slovenly habits among the people. “The floors,”
says he, “are commonly of clay, strewed with rushes, under which lies
unmolested an ancient collection of beer, grease, fragments, bones,
spittle, excrements of dogs and cats, and every thing that is
nasty.”[**]
Holingshed, who lived in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, gives a very curious
account of the plain, or rather rude way of living of the preceding
generation. There scarcely was a chimney to the houses, even in
considerable towns; the fire was kindled by the wall, and the smoke
sought its way out at the roof, or door, or windows: the houses were
nothing but watling plastered over with clay; the people slept on straw
pallets, and had a good round log under their head for a pillow; and
almost all the furniture and utensils were of wood.[***] [22]
In this reign we find the first general law with regard to highways,
which were appointed to be repaired by parish duty all over
England.[****]
* Nicholson’s Historical Library.
** Erasm. Epist. 482.
*** See note V, at the end of the volume.
**** 2 and 3 Phil. and Mar. cap. 8.
NOTES.
[Footnote 1: NOTE A, p. 58. Stowe, Baker, Speed, Biondi, Holingshed,
Bacon. Some late writers, particularly Mr. Carte, have doubted whether
Perkin were an impostor, and have even asserted him to be the true
Plantagenet. But to refute this opinion, we need only reflect on the
following particulars: (1.) Though the circumstances of the wars between
the two roses be in general involved in great obscurity, yet is there a
most luminous ray thrown on all the transactions during the usurpation
of Richard, and the murder of the two young princes, by the narrative of
Sir Thomas More, whose singular magnanimity, probity, and judgment, make
him an evidence beyond all exception. No historian, either of ancient
or modern times, can possibly have more weight: he may also be justly
esteemed a contemporary with regard to the murder of the two princes;
for though he was but five years of age when that event happened, he
lived and was educated among the chief actors during the period of
Richard; and it is plain from this narrative itself, which is often
extremely circumstantial, that he had the particulars from the
eyewitnesses themselves. His authority, therefore, is irresistible, and
sufficient to overbalance a hundred little doubts, and scruples,
and objections. For in reality his narrative is liable to no solid
objection, nor is there any mistake detected in it. He says, indeed,
that the protector’s partisans, particularly Dr. Shaw, spread abroad
rumors of Edward IV.’s pre-contract with Elizabeth Lucy; whereas it now
appears from record, that the parliament afterwards declared the king’s
children illegitimate, on pretence of his pre-contract with lady Eleanor
Talbot. But it must be remarked, that neither of these pre-contracts
was ever so much as attempted to be proved; and why might not the
protector’s flatterers and partisans have made use sometimes of one
false rumor, sometimes of another? Sir Thomas More mentions the one
rumor as well as the other, and treats them both lightly, as they
deserved. It is also thought incredible by Mr. Carte, that Dr. Shaw
should have been encouraged by Richard to calumniate openly his mother
the duchess of York, with whom that prince lived in good terms. But if
there be any difficulty in this supposition, we need only suppose, that
Dr. Shaw might have concerted in general his sermon with the protector
or his ministers, and yet have chosen himself the particular topics, and
chosen them very foolishly. This appears, indeed, to have been the case,
by the disgrace into which he fell afterwards, and by the protector’s
neglect of him. (2.) If Sir Thomas’s quality of contemporary be disputed
with regard to the duke of Glocester’s protectorate, it cannot possibly
be disputed with regard to Perkin’s imposture: he was then a man, and
had a full opportunity of knowing and examining and judging of the
truth. In asserting that the duke of York was murdered by his uncle,
he certainly asserts, in the most express terms, that Perkin, who
personated him, was an impostor. (3.) There is another great genius who
has carefully treated this point of history; so great a genius, as to
be esteemed with justice one of the chief ornaments of the nation,
and indeed one of the most sublime writers that any age or nation has
produced. It is Lord Bacon I mean, who has related at full length, and
without the least doubt or hesitation, all the impostures of Perkin
Warbeck. If it be objected, that Lord Bacon was no contemporary, and
that we have the same materials as he upon which to form our judgment;
it must be remarked, the lord Bacon plainly composed his elaborate and
exact history from many records and papers which are now lost, and that
consequently he is always to be cited as an original historian. It were
very strange, if Mr. Carte’s opinion were just, that, among all the
papers which Lord Bacon perused, he never found any reascn to suspect
Perkin to be the true Plantagenet. There was at that time no interest
in defaming Richard III. Bacon, besides, is a very unbiased historian,
nowise partial to Henry; we know the detail of that prince’s oppressive
government from him alone. It may only be thought that, in summing up
his character, he has laid the colors of blame more faintly than the
very facts he mentions seem to require. Let me remark, in passing, as
a singularity, how much English history has been beholden to four great
men who have possessed the highest dignity in the law, More, Bacon,
Clarendon, and Whitlocke. (4.) But if contemporary evidence be so much
sought after, there may in this case be produced the strongest and
most undeniable in the world. The queen dowager, her son the marquis
of Dorset, a man of excellent understanding Sir Edward Woodville, her
brother, Sir Thomas St. Leger, who had married the king’s sister, Sir
John Bourchier, Sir Robert Willoughby, Sir Giles Daubeney, Sir Thomas
Arundel, the Courtneys, the Cheyneys, the Talbots, the Stanleys, and,
in a word, all the partisans of the house of York, that is, the men of
chief dignity in the nation; all these great persons were so assured
of the murder of the two princes, that they applied to the earl of
Richmond, the mortal enemy of their party and family; they projected to
set him on the throne, which must have been utter ruin to them if the
princes were alive; and they stipulated to marry him to the princess
Elizabeth, as heir to the crown, who in that case was no heir at all.
Had each of those persons written the memoirs of his own times, would he
not have said that Richard murdered his nephews? Or would their pen be
a better declaration than their actions, of their real sentiments? (5.)
But we have another contemporary authority, still better than even
those great persons, so much interested to know the truth: it is that
of Richard himself. He projected to marry his niece, a very unusual
alliance in England, in order to unite her title with his own. He
knew, therefore, her title to be good: for as to the declaration of her
illegitimacy, as it went upon no proof, or even pretence of proof, it
was always regarded with the utmost contempt by the nation, and it was
considered as one of those parliamentary transactions, so frequent in
that period, which were scandalous in themselves, and had no manner
of authority. It was even so much despised, as not to be reversed by
parliament after Henry and Elizabeth were on the throne. (6.) We have
also, as contemporary evidence, the universal established opinion of
the age, both abroad and at home. This point was regarded as so
uncontroverted, that when Richard notified his accession to the court of
France, that court was struck with horror at his abominable parricide
in murdering both his nephews, as Philip de Comines tells us; and this
sentiment went to such an unusual height, that, as we learn from the
same author, the court would not make the least reply to him. (7.) The
same reasons which convinced that age of the parricide still subsist,
and ought to carry the most undoubted evidence to us; namely, the very
circumstance of the sudden disappearance of the princes from the Tower,
and their appearance nowhere else. Every one said, “They have not
escaped from their uncle, for he makes no search after them: he has not
conveyed them elsewhere; for it is his business to declare so, in
order to remove the imputation of murder from himself. He never would
needlessly subject himself to the infamy and danger of being esteemed
a parricide, without acquiring the security attending that crime. They
were in his custody. He is answerable for them. If he gives no account
of them, as he has a plain interest in their death, he must, by
every rule of common sense, be regarded as the murderer. His flagrant
usurpation, as well as his other treacherous and cruel actions, makes
no better be expected from him. He could not say, with Cain, that he was
not his nephews’ keeper.” This reasoning, which was irrefragable at the
very first, became every day stronger from Richard’s continued silence,
and the general and total ignorance of the place of these princes’
abode. Richard’s reign lasted about two years beyond this period; and
surely he could not have found a better expedient for disappointing the
earl of Richmond’s projects, as well as justifying his own character,
than the producing of his nephews. (8.) If it were necessary, amidst
this blaze of evidence, to produce proofs which, in any other case,
would have been regarded as considerable, and would have carried great
validity with them, I might mention Dighton and Tyrrel’s account of the
murder. This last gentleman especially was not likely to subject himself
to the reproach of so great a crime, by an imposture which, it appears,
did not acquire him the favor of Henry. (9.) The duke of York, being
a boy of nine years of age, could not have made his escape without the
assistance of some elder persons. Would it not have been their chief
concern instantly to convey intelligence of so great an event to his
mother, the queen dowager, to his aunt, the duchess of Burgundy, and to
the other friends of the family. The duchess protected Simnel; a project
which, had it been successful, must have ended in the crowning of
Warwick and the exclusion of the duke of York. This, among many other
proofs, evinces that she was ignorant of the escape of that prince,
which is impossible had it been real. (10.) The total silence with
regard to the persons who aided him in his escape, as also with regard
to the place of his abode during more than eight years, is a sufficient
proof of the imposture. (11.) Perkin’s own account of his escape is
incredible and absurd. He said, that murderers were employed by his
uncle to kill him and his brother; they perpetrated the crime against
his brother, but took compassion on him, and allowed him to escape. This
account is contained in all the historians of that age. (12.) Perkin
himself made a full confession of his imposture no less than three
times; once when he surrendered himself prisoner, a second time when he
was set in the stocks at Cheapside and Westminster, and a third time,
which carries undoubted evidence, at the foot of the gibbet on which
he was hanged. Not the least surmise that the confession had ever been
procured by torture; and surely the last time he had nothing further
to fear. (13.) Had not Henry been assured that Perkin was a ridiculous
impostor, disavowed by the whole nation, he never would have allowed him
to live an hour after he came into his power, much less would he have
twice pardoned him. His treatment of the innocent earl of Warwick, who,
in reality, had no title to the crown, is a sufficient confirmation of
this reasoning. (14.) We know with certainty whence the whole imposture
came, namely, from the intrigues of the duchess of Burgundy. She had
before acknowledged and supported Lambert Simnel, an avowed imposter.
It is remarkable that Mr. Carte, in order to preserve the weight of
the duchess’s testimony in favor of Perkin, suppresses entirely this
material fact: a strong effect of party prejudices, and this author’s
desire of blackening Henry VII., whose hereditary title to the crown was
defective. (15.) There never was, at that time, any evidence or shadow
of evidence produced of Perkin’s identity with Richard Plantagenet.
Richard had disappeared when near nine years of age, and Perkin did not
appear till he was a man. Could any one from his aspect pretend then to
be sure of the identity? He had got some stories concerning Richard’s
childhood, and the court of England; but all that it was necessary for
a boy of nine to remark or remember, was easily suggested to him by the
duchess of Burgundy, or Frion, Henry’s secretary, or by any body that
had ever lived at court. It is true, many persons of note were at
first deceived; but the discontents against Henry’s government, and the
general enthusiasm for the house of York, account sufficiently for this
temporary delusion. Everybody’s eyes were opened long before Perkin’s
death. (16.) The circumstance of finding the two dead bodies in the
reign of Charles II. is not surely indifferent. They were found in the
very place which More, Bacon, and other ancient authors, had assigned as
the place of interment of the young princes; the bones corresponded by
their size to the age of the princes; the secret and irregular place of
their interment, not being in holy ground, proves that the boys had
been secretly murdered; and in the Tower no boys but those who are very
nearly related to the crown can be exposed to a violent death. If we
compare all these circumstances, we shall find that the inference is
just and strong, that they were the bodies of Edward V. and his brother,
the very inference that was drawn at the time of the discovery.
Since the publication of this History, Mr. Walpole has published his
Historic Doubts concerning Richard III. Nothing can be a stronger proof
how ingenious and agreeable that gentleman’s pen is, than his being
able to make an inquiry concerning a remote point of English history, an
object of general conversation. The foregoing note has been enlarged on
account of that performance.]
[Footnote 2: NOTE B, p. 69. Rot. Parl. 3 Henry VII. n. 17. The preamble
is remarkable, and shows the state of the nation at that time.
“The king, our sovereign lord, remembereth how, by our unlawful
maintainances, giving of liveries, signs, and tokens, retainders by
indentures, promises, oaths, writings, and other embraceries of his
subjects, untrue demeanings of sheriffs in making panels, and untrue
returns by taking money, by juries, etc. the policy of this nation is
most subdued.” It must indeed be confessed, that such a state of the
country required great discretionary power in the sovereign; nor will
the same maxims of government suit such a rude people, that may be
proper in a more advanced stage of society. The establishment of the
star-chamber, or the enlargement of its power, in the reign of Henry
VII., might have been as wise as the abolition of it in that of Charles
I.]
[Footnote 3: NOTE C, p. 72. The duke of Northumberland has lately
printed a household book of an old earl of that family, who lived at
this time. The author has been favored with the perusal of it; and it
contains many curious particulars, which mark the manners and way of
living in that rude, not to say barbarous, age; as well as the prices of
commodities. I have extracted a few of them from that piece, which
gives a true picture of ancient manners, and is one of the most singular
monuments that English antiquity affords us; for we may be confident,
however rude the strokes, that no baron’s family was on a nobler or
more splendid footing. The family consists of one hundred and sixty-six
persons, masters and servants. Fifty-seven strangers are reckoned
upon every day; on the whole, two hundred and twenty-three. Twopence
halfpenny are supposed to be the daily expense of each for meat, drink,
and firing. This would make a groat of our present money. Supposing
provisions between three and four times cheaper, it would be equivalent
to fourteenpence: no great sum for a nobleman’s housekeeping; especially
considering that the chief expense of a family at that time consisted
in meat and drink; for the sum allotted by the earl for his whole
annual expense is one thousand one hundred and eighteen pounds seventeen
shillings and eightpence; meat, drink, and firing cost seven hundred and
ninety-six pounds eleven shillings and twopence, more than two thirds
of the whole; in a modern family it is not above a third, (p. 157,
158, 159.) The whole expense of the earl’s family is managed with an
exactness that is very rigid, and, if we make no allowance for ancient
manners, such as may seem to border on an extreme; insomuch that the
number of pieces which must be cut out of every quarter of beef, mutton,
pork, veal, nay, stock-fish and salmon, are determined, and must be
entered and accounted for by the different clerks appointed for that
purpose. If a servant be absent a day, his mess is struck off. If he go
on my lord’s business, board-wages are allowed him, eightpence a day for
his journey in winter, fivepence in summer. When he stays in any place,
twopence a day are allowed him, besides the maintenance of his horse.
Somewhat above a quarter of wheat is allowed for every mouth throughout
the year; and the wheat is estimated at five shillings and eightpence
a quarter. Two hundred and fifty quarters of malt are allowed, at four
shillings a quarter. Two hogsheads are to be made of a quarter, which
amounts to about a bottle and a third of beer a day to each person,
(p.4,) and the beer will not be very strong One hundred and nine fat
beeves are to be bought at Allhallow-tide, at thirteen shillings and
fourpence apiece; and twenty-four lean beeves to be bought at St.
Helens, at eight shillings apiece. These are to be put into the pastures
to feed; and are to serve from Mid-summer to Michaelmas; which is
consequently the only time that the family eats fresh beef. During all
the rest of the year they live on salted meat. (p.5.) One hundred and
sixty gallons of mustard are allowed in a year, which seems indeed
requisite for the salt beef, (p.18.) Six hundred and forty-seven sheep
are allowed, at twentypence apiece; and these seem also to be all eat
salted, except between Lammas and Michaelmas, (p.5.) Only twenty-five
hogs are allowed at two shillings apiece; twenty-eight veals, at
twentypence; forty lambs, at tenpence or a shilling, (p. 7.) These
seem to be reserved for my lord’s table, or that of the upper servants,
called the knights’ table. The other servants, as they eat salted meat
almost through the whole year, and with few or no vegetables, had a very
bad and unhealthy diet; so that there cannot be any thing more erroneous
than the magnificent ideas formed of “the roast beef of old England.” We
must entertain as mean an idea of its cleanliness. Only seventy ells of
linen, at eightpence an ell, are annually allowed for this great family.
No sheets were used. This linen was made into eight table-cloths for my
lord’s table, and one table-cloth for the knights, (p.16.) This last, I
suppose, was washed only once a month. Only forty shillings are allowed
for washing throughout the whole year; and most of it seems expended on
the linen belonging to the chapel. The drinking, however, was tolerable,
namely, ten tuns and two hogsheads of Gascogny wine, at the rate of four
pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence a tun. (p.6.) Only ninety-one
dozen of candles for the whole year. (p.14.) The family rose at six
in the morning, dined at ten, and supped at four in the afternoon. The
gates were all shut at nine, and no further ingress or egress permitted,
(p. 314, 318.) My lord and lady have set on their table for breakfast at
seven o’clock in the morning a quart of beer, as much wine; two pieces
of salt fish, six red herrings, four white ones, or a dish of sprats.
In flesh days, half a chine of mutton, or a chine of beef boiled, (p.73,
75.) Mass is ordered to be said at six o’clock, in order, says the
household book that all my lord’s servants may rise early, (p.170.) Only
twenty-four fires are allowed, beside the kitchen and hall, and most
of these have only a peck of coals a day allowed them. (p.99.) After
Lady-day, no fires permitted in the rooms, except half-fires in my
lord’s and lady’s, and lord Piercy’s and the nursery, (p.101.) It is
to be observed, that my lord kept house in Yorkshire, where there is
certainly much cold weather after Lady-day. Eighty chalders of coals,
at four shillings and twopence a chalder, suffices throughout the whole
year; and because coal will not burn without wood, says the household
book, sixty-four loads of great wood are also allowed, at twelvepence a
load.(p.22.) This is a proof that grates were not the used. Here is an
article. “It is devised that from henceforth no capons to be bought but
only for my lord’s own mess, and that the said capons shall be
bought for twopence apiece, lean, and fed in the poultry; and master
chamberlain and the stewards be fed with capons, if there be strangers
sitting with them.” (p. 102.) Pigs are to be bought at threepence or a
groat a piece; geese at the same price; chickens at a halfpenny; hens
at twopence, and only for the abovementioned tables. Here is another
article. “Item, it is thought* good that no plovers be bought at no
season but only in Christmas* and principal feasts, and my lord to be
served therewith and his board-*end, and none other, and to be bought
for a penny apiece, or a penny halfpenny at most.” (p. 103.) Woodcocks
are to be bought at the same price. Partridges at twopence, (p. 104,
105.) Pheasants a shilling; peacocks, the same. (p. 100.) My lord keeps
only twenty-seven horses in his stable at his own charge. His upper
servants have allowance for maintaining their own horses, (p. 126.)
These horses are six gentle horses, as they are called, at hay and hard
meat throughout the whole year, four palfreys, three hobbies and nags
three sumpter horses, six horses for those servants to whom my lord
furnishes a horse, two sumpter horses more, and three mill horses two
for carrying the corn, and one for grinding it; whence we may infer that
mills, either water or windmills, were then unknown, at least very rare;
besides these, there are seven great trotting horses for the chariot or
wagon. He allows a peck of oats a day, besides loaves made of beans,
for his principal horses; the oats at twentypence, the beans at two
shillings a quarter. The load of hay is at two shillings and eightpence.
When my lord is on a journey, he carries thirty-six horsemen along with
him; together with bed and other accommodation. (p. 157.) The inns, it
seems, could afford nothing tolerable. My lord passes the year in three
country seats, all in Yorkshire; Wrysel, Leckenfield, and Topclyiffe;
but he has furniture only for one. He carries every thing along with
him, beds, tables, chairs, kitchen utensils, all which, we may conclude,
were so coarse, that they could not be spoilt by the carriage; yet
seventeen carts and one wagon suffice for the whole. (p. 391.) One cart
suffices for all his kitchen utensils, cooks’ beds, etc. (p. 388.) One
remarkable circumstance is, that he has eleven priests in his house,
besides seventeen persons, chanters, musicians, etc. belonging to
his chapel; yet he has only two cooks for a family of two hundred and
twenty-three persons. (p. 325.)[*]
* In another place mention is made of four cooks. (p. 388.)
But I suppose that the two servants, called in p. 325 groom
of the larder and child of the scullery, are on p. 368,
comprehended in the number of cooks.
Their meals were certainly dressed on the slovenly manner of a ship’s
company. It is amusing to observe the pompous and even royal style
assumed by this Tartar chief. He does not give any orders, though
only for the right making of mustard, but it is introduced with this
preamble: “It seemeth good to us and our council.” If we consider the
magnificent and elegant manner in which the Venetian and other
Italian noblemen then lived, with the progress made by the Italians in
literature and the fine arts, we shall not wonder that they considered
the ultramontane nations as barbarous. The Flemish also seem to have
much excelled the English and even the French. Yet the earl is sometimes
not deficient in generosity; he pays, for instance, an annual pension of
a groat a year to my lady of Walsingham, for her interest in heaven: the
same sum to the holy blood at Hales. (p. 337.) No mention is anywhere
made of plate; but only of the hiring of pewter vessels. The servants
seem all to have bought their own clothes from their wages.]
[Footnote 4: NOTE D, p. 132. Protestant writers have imagined, that
because a man could purchase for a shilling an indulgence for the most
enormous and unheard-of crimes, there must necessarily have ensued a
total dissolution of morality, and consequently of civil society, from
the practices of the Romish church. They do not consider, that after all
these indulgences were promulgated, there still remained (besides hell
fire) the punishment by the civil magistrate, the infamy of the world,
and secret remorses of conscience, which are the great motives that
operate on mankind. The philosophy of Cicero, who allowed of an Elysium,
but rejected all Tartarus, was a much more universal indulgence than
that preached by Arcemboldi or Tetzel; yet nobody will suspect Cicero
of any design to promote immorality. The sale of indulgences seems,
therefore, no more criminal than any other cheat of the church of Rome,
or of any other church. The reformers, by entirely abolishing purgatory,
did really, instead of partial indulgences sold by the pope, give,
gratis, a general indulgence of a similar nature, for all crimes and
offences, without exception or distinction. The souls once consigned
to hell were never supposed to be redeemable by any price. There is on
record only one instance of a damned soul that was saved, and that by
the special intercession of the Virgin. See Pascal’s Provincial Letters.
An indulgence saved the person who purchased it from purgatory only.]
[Footnote 5: NOTE E, p. 142. It is said, that when Henry heard that the
commons made a great difficulty of granting the required supply, he was
so provoked that he sent for Edward Montague, one of the members, who
had a considerable influence on the house; and he being introduced to
his majesty, had the mortification to hear him speak in these words:
“Ho! man: will they not suffer my bill to pass?” And laying his hand
on Montague’s head, who was then on his knees before him, “Get my bill
passed by to-morrow, or else to-morrow this head of yours shall be off.”
This cavalier manner of Henry succeeded; for next day the bill passed.
Collins’s British Peerage. Grove’s Life of Wolsey. We are told by Hall,
(fol. 38,) that Cardinal Wolsey endeavored to terrify the citizens of
London into the general loan exacted in 1525, and told them plainly,
that “it were better that some should suffer indigence than that the
king at this time should lack and therefore beware and resist not, nor
ruffle not in this case, for it may fortune to cost some people their
heads.” Such was the style employed by this king and his ministers.]
[Footnote 6: NOTE F, p. 177. The first article of the charge against the
cardinal is his procuring the legatine power, which, however, as it was
certainly done with the king’s consent and permission, could be nowise
criminal. Many of the other articles also regard the mere exercise of
that power. Some articles impute to him, as crimes, particular actions
which were natural or unavoidable to any man that was prime minister
with so unlimited an authority; such as receiving first all letters from
the king’s ministers abroad, receiving first all visits from foreign
ministers, desiring that all applications should be made through him. He
was also accused of naming himself with the king, as if he had been his
fellow--“the king and I.” It is reported that sometimes he even put
his own name before the king’s--“ego et rex meus.” But this mode of
expression is justified by the Latin idiom. It is remarkable, that
his whispering in the king’s ear, knowing himself to be affected with
venereal distempers, is an article against him. Many of the charges are
general, and incapable of proof. Lord Herbert goes so far as to affirm,
that no man ever fell from so high a station who had so few real crimes
objected to him. This opinion is perhaps a little too favorable to the
cardinal. Yet the refutation of the articles by Cromwell, and their
being rejected by a house of commons, even in this arbitrary reign,
is almost a demonstration of Wolsey’s innocence. Henry was, no
doubt, entirely bent on his destruction, when, on his failure by
a parliamentary impeachment, he attacked him upon the statute of
provisors, which afforded him so little just hold on that minister. For
that this indictment was subsequent to the attack in parliament, appears
by Cavendish’s Life of Wolsey, and Stowe, (p. 551,) and more certainly
by the very articles of impeachment themselves. Parliamentary History,
vol. iii. p. 42, article 7. Coke’s Inst. part iv. fol. 89.]
[Footnote 7: NOTE G, p. 183. Even judging of this question by the
Scripture, to which the appeal was every moment made, the arguments for
the king’s cause appear but lame and imperfect. Marriage in the degree
of affinity which had place between Henry and Catharine, is, indeed,
prohibited in Leviticus; but it is natural to interpret that prohibition
as a part of the Jewish ceremonial or municipal law; and though it is
there said, in the conclusion, that the Gentile nations, by violating
those degrees of consanguinity, had incurred the divine displeasure;
the extension of this maxim to every precise case before specified,
is supposing the Scriptures to be composed with a minute accuracy and
precision, to which, we know with certainty, the sacred penmen did not
think proper to confine themselves. The descent of mankind from one
common father obliged them, in the first generation, to marry in the
nearest degrees of consanguinity. Instances of a like nature occur among
the patriarchs; and the marriage of a brother’s widow was, in certain
cases, not only permitted, but even enjoined as a positive precept,
by the Mosaical law. It is in vain to say that this precept was an
exception to the rule, and an exception confined merely to the Jewish
nation. The inference is still just, that such a marriage can contain
no natural or moral turpitude; otherwise God, who is the author of all
purity, would never, in any case, have enjoined it.]
[Footnote 8: NOTE H, p. 191. Bishop Burnet has given us an account of
the number of bulls requisite for Cranmer’s installation. By one bull,
directed to the king, he is, upon the royal nomination, made archbishop
of Canterbury. By a second, directed to himself, he is also made
archbishop. By a third, he is absolved from all censures. A fourth is
directed to the suffragans, requiring them to receive and acknowledge
him as archbishop. A fifth to the dean and chapter, to the same purpose.
A sixth to the clergy of Canterbury. A seventh to all the laity in his
see. An eighth to all that held lands of it. By a ninth he was ordered
to be consecrated, taking the oath that was in the pontifical. By a
tenth the pall was sent him. By an eleventh the archbishop of York and
the bishop of London were required to put it on him. These were so
many devices to draw fees to offices which the popes had erected, and
disposed of for money. It may be worth observing, that Cranmer, before
he took the oath to the pope, made a protestation, that he did not
intend thereby to restrain himself from any thing that he was bound
to, either by his duty to God, the king, or the country; and that he
renounced every thing in it that was contrary to any of these. This was
the invention of some casuist, and not very compatible with that
strict sincerity, and that scrupulous conscience, of which Cranmer made
profession. Collier, vol. ii. in Coll No. 22. Burnet, vol. i. p. 128,
129.]
[Footnote 9: NOTE I, p. 203. Here are the terms in which the king’s
minister expressed himself to the pope. “An non, inquam, sanctitas
vestra plerosque habet quibuscum arcanum aliquid crediderit, putet id
non minus celatum esse quam si uno tantum pectore contineretur; quod
multo magis serenissimo Angliæ regi evenire debet, cui singuli in
suo regno sunt subjecti, neque etiam velint, possunt regi non esse
fidelissimi. Væ namque illis, si vel parvo momento ab illius voluntate
recederent”. Le Grand, tom. iii. p. 113. The king once said
publicly before the council, that if any one spoke of him or his actions
in terms which became them not, he would let them know that he was
master. “Et qu’il n’y auroit si belle tête qu’il ne fit voler.” Id. p.
218.]
[Footnote 11: NOTE K. p 226. This letter contains so much nature, and
even elegance, as to deserve to be transmitted to posterity, without any
alteration in the expression. It is as follows:--
“Sir, your grace’s displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange
unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant.
Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth and so obtain
your favor) by such an one whom you know to be mine ancient professed
enemy, I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly
conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth indeed
may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty perform
your command.
“But let not your grace ever imagine that your poor wife will ever be
brought to acknowledge a fault where not so much as a thought thereof
preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in
all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne
Boleyn; with which name and place I could willingly have contented
myself, if God and your grace’s pleasure had been so pleased. Neither
did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation or received
queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as I now
find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than
your grace’s fancy, the least alteration I knew was fit and sufficient
to draw that fancy to some other object. You have chosen me from a low
estate to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert or desire.
If then you found me worthy of such honor, good your grace let not any
light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies withdraw your princely favor
from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain, of a disloyal
heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most
dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter. Try me, good king,
but let me have a lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as my
accusers and judges; yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truth
shall fear no open shame; then shall you see either mine innocence
cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and
slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that
whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your grace may be freed from
an open censure; and mine offence being so lawfully proved, your grace
is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy
punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection,
already settled on that party for whose sake I am now as I am, whose
name I could some good while since have pointed unto, your grace not
being ignorant of my suspicion therein.
“But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death,
but an infamous slander, must bring you the enjoying of your desired
happiness; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great sin
therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof; and that
he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel
usage of me, at his general judgment-seat, where both you and myself
must shortly appear, and in whose judgment, I doubt not, (whatsoever
the world may think of me,) mine innocence shall be openly known and
sufficiently cleared.
“My last and only request shall be, that myself may only bear the burden
of your grace’s displeasure, and that it may not touch the innocent
souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I understand,) are likewise in
strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favor in your
sight, if ever the name of Anne Boleyn hath been pleasing in your ears,
then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your
grace any further, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your
grace in his good keeping, and to direct you In all your actions. From
my doleful prison in the Tower, this sixth of May.
“Your most loyal and ever faithful wife,
“ANNE BOLEYN.”]
[Footnote 12: NOTE L, p. 234. A proposal had formerly been made in the
convocation for the abolition of the lesser monasteries; and had been
much opposed by Bishop Fisher, who was then alive. He told his brethren,
that this was fairly showing the king the way how he might come at the
greater monasteries. “An axe,” said he, “which wanted a handle, came upon
a time into the wood, making his moan to the great trees, that he wanted
a handle to work withal, and for that cause he was constrained to sit
idle; therefore he made it his request to them, that they would be
pleased to grant him one of their small saplings within the wood to
make him a handle; who, mistrusting no guile, granted him one of their
smaller trees to make him a handle. But now becoming a complete axe, he
fell so to work within the same wood, that in process of time, there was
neither great nor small trees to be found in the place where the
wood stood. And so, my lords, if you grant the king these smaller
monasteries, you do but make him a handle, whereby, at his own pleasure,
he may cut down all the cedars within your Lebanons.” Dr. Bailie’s Life
of Bishop Fisher, p. 108.]
[Footnote 13: NOTE M, p. 244. There is a curious passage with regard
to the suppression of monasteries to be found in Coke’s Institutes, 4th
Inst. chap. i. p. 44. It is worth transcribing, as it shows the ideas of
the English government, entertained during the reign of Henry VIII., and
even in the time of Sir Edward Coke, when he wrote his Institutes. It
clearly appears, that the people had then little notion of being jealous
of their liberties, were desirous of making the crown quite independent,
and wished only to remove from themselves, as much as possible, the
burdens of government. A large standing army, and a fixed revenue,
would, on these conditions, have been regarded as great blessings; and
it was owing entirely to the prodigality of Henry, and to his little
suspicion that the power of the crown could ever fail, that the English
owe all their present liberty. The title of the chapter in Coke, is,
“Advice concerning new and plausible Projects and Offers in Parliament.”
“When any plausible project,” says he, “is made in parliament, to draw
the lords and commons to assent to any act, (especially in matters of
weight and importance,) if both houses do give upon the matter projected
and promised their consent, it shall be most necessary, they being
trusted for the commonwealth, to have the matter projected and promised
(which moved the houses to consent) to be established in the same act,
lest the benefit of the act be taken, and the matter projected and
promised never performed, and so the houses of parliament perform not
the trust reposed in them, as it fell out (taking one example for many)
in the reign of Henry VIII. On the king’s behalf, the members of both
houses were informed in parliament, that no king or kingdom was safe but
where the king had three abilities: 1. To live of his own, and able to
defend his kingdom upon any sudden invasion or insurrection. 2. To aid
his confederates, otherwise they would never assist him. 3. To
reward his well-deserving servants. Now, the project was, that if the
parliament would give unto him all the abbeys, priories, friaries,
nunneries, and other monasteries, that, forever in time then to come, he
would take order that the same should not be converted to private uses;
but first, that his exchequer for the purposes aforesaid, should be
enriched; secondly, the kingdom strengthened by a continual maintenance
of forty thousand well-trained soldiers, with skilful captains and
commanders; thirdly, for the benefit and ease of the subject, who never
afterwards, (as was projected,) in any time to come, should be charged
with subsidies, fifteenths, loans, or other common aids; fourthly, lest
the honor of the realm should receive any diminution of honor by the
dissolution of the said monasteries, there being twenty-nine lords
of parliament of the abbots and priors, (that held of the king ‘pet
baroniam,’ whereof more in the next leaf,) that the king would create a
number of nobles, which we omit. The said monasteries were given to the
king by authority of divers ants of parliament, but no provision was
therein made for the said project, or any part thereof!”]
[Footnote 14: NOTE N, p. 252., Collier, in his Ecclesiastical History,
(vol. ii. p. 152,) has preserved an account which Cromwell gave of this
conference, in a letter to Sir Thomas Wyat, the king’s ambassador in
Germany. “The king’s majesty,” says Cromwell, “for the reverence of
the holy sacrament of the altar, did sit openly in his hall, and there
presided at the disputation, process, and judgment of a miserable
heretic sacramentary, who was burned the twentieth of November. It was a
wonder to see how princely, with how excellent gravity, and inestimable
majesty, his highness exercised there the very office of supreme head
of the church of England. How benignly his grace essayed to convert
the miserable man; how strong and manifest reasons his highness alleged
against him. I wish the princes and potentates of Christendom to have
had a meet place to have seen it. Undoubtedly they should have much
marvelled at his majesty’s most high wisdom and judgment, and reputed
him no otherwise after the same, than in a manner the mirror and
light of all other kings and princes in Christendom.” It was by such
flatteries that Henry was engaged to make his sentiments the standard to
all mankind; and was determined to enforce, by the severest penalties,
his “strong” and “manifest” reasons for transubstantiation.]
[Footnote 15: NOTE O, p. 254. There is a story, that the duke of
Norfolk, meeting, soon after this act was passed, one of his chaplains,
who was suspected of favoring the reformation, said to him, “Now, sir,
what think you of the law to hinder priests from having wives?” “Yes, my
lord,” replies the chaplain, “you have done that; but I will answer for
it you cannot hinder men’s wives from having priests.”]
[Footnote 16: NOTE P, p. 265. To show how much Henry sported with
law and common sense, how servilely the parliament followed all his
caprices, and how much both of them were lost to all sense of shame, an
act was passed this session, declaring that a precontract should be no
ground for annulling a marriage; as if that pretext had not been made
use of both in the case of Anne Boleyn and Anne of Cleves. But the
king’s intention in this law is said to be a design of restoring the
princess Elizabeth to her right of legitimacy; and it was his character
never to look farther than the present object, without regarding the
inconsistency of his conduct. The parliament made it high treason to
deny the dissolution of Henry’s marriage with Anne of Cleves. Herbert.]
[Footnote 17: NOTE Q, p. 274. It was enacted by this parliament, that
there should be trial of treason in any county where the king should
appoint by commission. The statutes of treason had been extremely
multiplied in this reign; and such an expedient saved trouble and
charges in trying that crime. The same parliament erected Ireland into
a kingdom; and Henry henceforth annexed the title of king of Ireland to
his other titles. This session the commons first began the practice of
freeing any of their members who were arrested, by a writ issued by
the speaker. Formerly it was usual for them to apply for a writ from
chancery to that purpose. This precedent increased the authority of the
commons, and had afterwards important consequences. Holingshed, p. 955,
956. Baker, p. 289.]
[Footnote 18: NOTE R, p. 281. The persecutions exercised during James’s
reign are not to be ascribed to his bigotry, a vice of which he seems to
have been as free as Francis I. or the emperor Charles, both of whom,
as well as James, showed, in different periods of their lives, even an
inclination to the new doctrines. The extremities to which all these
princes were carried, proceeded entirely from the situation of affairs
during that age, which rendered it impossible for them to act with
greater temper or moderation, after they had embraced the resolution of
supporting the ancient establishments. So violent was the propensity
of the times towards innovation, that a bare toleration of the new
preachers was equivalent to a formed design of changing the national
religion.]
[Footnote 19: NOTE S, p. 331. Spotswood, p. 75. The same author (p. 92)
tells us a story which confirms this character of the Popish clergy in
Scotland. It became a great dispute in the university of St. Andrew’s,
whether the pater should be said to God or the saints. The friars, who
knew in general that the reformers neglected the saints, were determined
to maintain their honor with great obstinacy; but they knew not upon
what topics to found their doctrine. Some held that the pater was
said to God formaliter, and to saints materialiter; others, to God
principaliter, and to saints minus principaliter; others would have
it ultimate and non ultimate: but the majority seemed to hold that the
pater was said to God capiendo stricte, and to saints capiendo large. A
simple fellow, who served the sub-prior, thinking there was some great
matter in hand that made the doctors hold so many conferences together,
asked him one day what the matter was: the sub-prior answering, “Tom,”
(that was the fellow’s name,) “we cannot agree to whom the pater-noster
should be said.” He suddenly replied, “To whom, sir, should it be said,
but unto God?” Then said the sub-prior, “What shall we do with the
saints?” He answered, “Give them aves and creeds enow, in the devil’s
name; for that may suffice them.” The answer going abroad, many said,
“that he had given a wiser decision than all the doctors had done, with
all their distinctions.”]
[Footnote 20: NOTE T, p. 351. Another act, passed this session, takes
notice, in the preamble, that the city of York, formerly well inhabited,
was now much decayed; insomuch that many of the cures could not afford
a competent maintenance to the incumbents. To remedy this inconvenience,
the magistrates were empowered to unite as many parishes as they thought
proper. An ecclesiastical historian (Collier, vol. ii. p. 230) thinks
that this decay of York is chiefly to be ascribed to the dissolution of
monasteries, by which the revenues fell into the hands of persons who
lived at a distance.
A very grievous tax was imposed this session upon the whole stock and
moneyed interest of the kingdom, and even upon its industry. It was a
shilling in the pound yearly, during three years, on every person worth
ten pounds or upwards; the double on aliens and denizens. These last, if
above twelve years of age, and if worth less than twenty shillings, were
to pay eightpence yearly. Every wether was to pay twopence yearly; every
ewe, threepence. The woollen manufactures were to pay eightpence a pound
on the value of all the cloth they made. These exorbitant taxes on money
are a proof that few people lived on money lent at interest; for this
tax amounts to half of the yearly income of all money-holders, during
three years, estimating their interest at the rate allowed by law; and
was too grievous to be borne, if many persons had been affected by it.
It is remarkable, that no tax at all was laid upon land this session.
The profits of merchandise were commonly so high, that it was supposed
it could bear this imposition. The most absurd part of the laws seems
to be the tax upon the woollen manufactures. See 2 and 3 Edward VI.
cap. 36. The subsequent parliament repealed the tax on sheep and woollen
cloth. 3 and 4 Edward VI. cap. 23. But they continued the other tax a
year longer. Ibid.
The clergy taxed themselves at six shillings in the pound, to be paid
in three years. This taxation was ratified in parliament, which had been
the common practice since the reformation, implying that the clergy have
no legislative power, even over themselves. See 2 and 3 Edward VI. cap.
35.]
[Footnote 21: NOTE U, p. 412. The pope at first gave Cardinal Pole
powers to transact only with regard to the past fruits of the church
lands; but being admonished of the danger attending any attempt towards
a resumption of the lands, he enlarged the cardinal’s powers, and
granted him authority to insure the future possession of the church
lands to the present proprietors. There was only one clause in the
cardinal’s powers that has given occasion for some speculation. An
exception was made of such cases as Pole should think important enough
to merit the being communicated to the holy see. But Pole simply
ratified the possession of all the church lands; and his commission had
given him full powers to that purpose. See Harleian Miscellany, vol.
vii. p. 264, 266. It is true, some councils have declared, that it
exceeds even the power of the pope to alienate any church lands; and the
pope, according to his convenience or power, may either adhere to, or
recede from, this declaration. But every year gave solidity to the right
of the proprietors of church lands, and diminished the authority of
the popes; so that men’s dread of popery in subsequent times was more
founded on party or religious zeal, than on very solid reasons.]
[Footnote 22: NOTE V, p. 448. The passage of Holingshed, in the
Discourse prefixed to his History, and which some ascribe to Harrison,
is as follows. Speaking of the increase of luxury: “Neither do I speak
this in reproach, of any man, God is my judge; but to show that I do
rejoice rather to see how God has blessed us with his good gifts, and to
behold how that in a time wherein all things are grown to most excessive
prices, we do yet find the means to obtain and archive such furniture
as heretofore has been impossible. There are old men yet dwelling in the
village where I remain, which have noted three things to be marvellously
altered in England, within their sound remembrance. One is, the
multitude of chimnies lately erected; whereas in their young days, there
were not above two or three, if so many, in most uplandish towns of
the realm; (the religious houses and manor-places of their lords always
excepted, and peradventure some great personage;) but each made his fire
against a reredosse in the hall where he dined and dressed his meat. The
second is, the great amendment of lodging; for, said they, our fathers
and we ourselves have lain full oft upon straw pallettes covered only
with a sheet under coverlets made of dagswaine or hopharlots, (I use
their own terms,) and a good round log under their head instead of a
bolster. If it were so, that the father or the goodman of the house had
a matrass or flock-bed, and thereto a sack of chaff to rest his head
upon, he thought himself to be as well lodged as the lord of the town,
so well were they contented. Pillows, said they, were thought meet only
for women in childbed. As for servants, if they had any sheet above
them, it was well; for seldom had they any under their bodies to keep
them from the prickling straws, that ran oft through the canvass,
and razed their hardened hydes. The third thing they tell of is, the
exchange of treene platers (so called, I suppose, from tree or wood)
into pewter, and wooden spoons into silver or tin. For so common were
all sorts of treene vessels in old time, that a man should hardly find
four pieces of pewter (of which one was peradventure a salt) in a good
farmer’s house.” Description of Britain, chap. x. Again, in chap. xvi.:
“In times past, men were contented to dwell in houses builded of sallow,
willow, etc.; so that the use of the oak was in a manner dedicated
wholly unto churches, religious houses, princes’ palaces, navigation,
etc., but now sallow, etc., are rejected, and nothing but oak any where
regarded. And yet see the change; for when our houses were builded of
willow, then had we oaken men; but now that our houses are come to
be made of oak, our men are not only become willow, but a great many
altogether of straw, which is a sore alteration. In these the courage of
the owner was a sufficient defence to keep the house in safety; but now
the assurance of the timber must defend the men from robbing. Now have
we many chimnies; and yet out tender**** complain of rheums, catarrhs,
and poses; then had we none but reredosses, and our heads did never
ache. For as the smoke in those days was supposed to be a sufficient
hardening for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a far better
medicine to keep the good man and his family from the quacke or pose,
wherewith, as then, very few were acquainted.” Again, in chap. xviii.:
“Our pewterers in time past employed the use of pewter only upon dishes
and pots, and a few other trifles for service; whereas now, they are
grown into such exquisite cunning, that they can in manner imitate by
infusion any form or fashion of cup, dish, salt, or bowl or goblet,
which is made by goldsmith’s craft, though they be never so curious, and
very artificially forged. In some places beyond the sea, a garnish of
good flat English pewter (I say flat, because dishes and platers in
my time begin to be made deep, and like basons, and are indeed more
convenient, both for sauce and keeping the meat warm) is almost esteemed
so precious as the like number of vessels that are made of fine silver.”
If the reader is curious to know the hour of meals in Queen Elizabeth’s
reign, he may learn it from the same author. “With us the nobility,
gentry, and students, do ordinarily go to dinner at eleven before
noon, and to supper at five, or between five and six at afternoon. The
merchants dine and sup seldom before twelve at noon and six at night,
especially in London. The husbandmen dine also at high noon, as they
call it, and sup at seven or eight; but out of term in our universities
the scholars dine at ten.”
Froissart mentions waiting on the duke of Lancaster at five o’clock in
the afternoon, when he had supped. These hours are still more early.
It is hard to tell, why, all over the world, as the age becomes more
luxurious, the hours become later. Is it the crowd of amusements that
push on the hours gradually? or are the people of fashion better pleased
with the secrecy and silence of nocturnal hours, when the industrious
vulgar are all gone to rest? In rude ages, men have few amusements or
occupations but what daylight affords them.}