THE EXETER CONSPIRACY.
Those who believe that human actions obey the laws of natural causation,
might find their philosophy confirmed by the conduct of the great powers
of Europe during the early years of the Reformation. With a regularity
uniform as that on which we calculate in the application of mechanical
forces, the same combinations were attended with identical effects; and
given the relations between France and Spain, between Spain and Germany,
between England and either of the three, the political situation of all
Western Christendom could be estimated with as much certainty as the
figure and dimensions of a triangle from the length of one of its sides
and the inclinations of two of its angles. When England was making
advances towards the Lutherans, we are sure that France and Spain were
in conjunction under the Papacy, and were menacing the Reformation. When
such advances had been pushed forward into prominence, and there was a
likelihood of a Protestant league, the Emperor was compelled to
neutralize the danger by concessions to the German Diet, or by an
affectation of a desire for a reconciliation with Henry, to which Henry
was always ready to listen. Then Henry would look coldly on the
Protestants, and the Protestants on him. Then Charles could afford again
to lay the curb on Francis. Then Francis would again storm and
threaten, till passion broke into war. War brought its usual
consequences of mutual injury, disaster, and exhaustion; and then the
Pope would interfere, and peace would follow, and the same round would
repeat itself. Statesmen and kings made, as they imagined, their fine
strokes of policy. A wisdom other than theirs condemned them to tread
again and again the same ineffectual circle.
But while fact and necessity were thus inexorable, imagination remained
uncontrolled; and efforts were made of all kinds, and on all sides, to
find openings of escape. The Emperor had boasted, in 1528, that he would
rid himself of the English difficulty by a revolution which should
dethrone Henry. The experiment had been tried with no success hitherto,
and with indifferent prospects for the future. Revolution failing, he
believed that he might reconvert England to the Papacy; while both Henry
and the Germans on their side had not ceased to hope that they might
convert the Emperor to the Reformation. The perspective of Europe varied
with the point of view of the various parties. The picture was arranged
by prejudice, and coloured by inclination.
[Sidenote: The Spanish ambassador compromised in the insurrection is
withdrawn. June.]
The overtures to England which Charles had commenced on the death of
Catherine, had been checked by Henry's haughty answer; and Charles had
replied by an indirect countenance, through his ambassador, to
Pole,[326] and to Lord Darcy. But the motives which had led to these
overtures remained to invite their renewal; the insurrection was for the
present prostrate, and the emperor therefore withdrew his first step,
and disowned his compromised minister in London. In June, 1537, Diego
de Mendoza arrived at the English court, with a commission to express in
more emphatic terms the earnest wish of the court of Spain for the
renewal of the old alliance.
[Sidenote: Sir Thomas Wyatt goes on a extraordinary mission into Spain.]
[Sidenote: Henry desires to forget the past and renew his friendship
with the Emperor;]
[Sidenote: Subject to certain conditions.]
The king had done enough for the protection of his dignity; prudence now
recommended him to believe in Charles's sincerity. A solid understanding
with Flanders was the best passport to the hearts of large portions of
his subjects, whose interests were connected with the wool trade: he was
himself ardently anxious to resume his place in the fraternity of
European sovereigns. Mendoza was graciously received. Sir Thomas Wyatt
was despatched into Spain with a corresponding mission; and Wyatt's
instructions were couched in language which showed that, although the
English government were under no delusion as to Charles's late
proceedings, they were ready to close their eyes to objects which they
did not wish to see. The proposals for a reconciliation which had been
made by the late ambassadors had appeared so feeble, Wyatt was to say,
as to seem rather a device of policy to prevent the King of England from
allying himself with France, than as intended in sincerity; M. de
Mendoza, however, had removed all such unpleasant impressions; and
although, if the Emperor would consider the past differences between the
two courts impartially, he must feel that the fault rested with himself,
yet the English government, on their side, were ready to set aside all
painful recollections.[327] There were persons, indeed, who affirmed
that the Emperor was still trifling, that Mendoza was playing a game,
and that, in "heart, deed, and words," the Spanish court were "doing all
they could to his Majesty's dishonour."[328] Nay, even individuals
could be found who boasted themselves to have refused some honest offers
because they were "knit with vile and filthy conditions towards his
Majesty."[329] The king, however, set aside these rumours, as either
without foundation, or as belonging to the past rather than the present.
He required only, as a condition or renewed friendship, that if the Pope
found the means of attacking England, Charles should bind himself to be
no party to such an enterprise, but should oppose it "to the uttermost
of his power."[330] In return, the Emperor might perhaps require that
the Lady Mary should "be restored to her rank as princess." Some
difficulty no doubt continued, and must continue, on this point. But it
was a difficulty rather in form than in substance. The king desired that
his daughter might be trusted to his honour: she might expect much from
his generosity, if he was not pressed to definite promises. Meanwhile,
she herself had submitted without reserve; she had entreated pardon for
her past disobedience, and accepted her position as illegitimate.[331]
It was likely that she would retain her place in the line of succession.
Should the king die without legitimate children, she would, in all
probability, be his heir.
In confirmation of this language, Mary added a letter to the commission,
in which, with her own hand, she assured the Emperor that she was
satisfied, entreating him to "repent," as she had herself repented; and
"to take of her the tenour."[332]
[Sidenote: The religious differences will not be composed,]
Thus instructed, Wyatt proceeded to Spain; and his reception was, on the
whole, auspicious. On both sides, indeed, the hope of agreement on
points of religion disappeared with the first words upon the subject.
Mendoza offered in London the Emperor's mediation with the Pope. He
received for answer that he might spare his labour. "The disposition of
the King's Highness was immutably against the said Bishop."[333] The
Emperor in his opening interview spoke to Wyatt of the sickness of
England, from which he trusted it would soon be recovered. Wyatt replied
that England was conscious only of having cast off a chronic sickness
which had lasted too long.
[Sidenote: But the Emperor will leave them to those whom they concern.]
On the other hand, Charles, with equal resolution, declined a
theological discussion, to which Henry had challenged him. "If your
Majesty," wrote Wyatt, "would hearken to the reconciling with the Bishop
of Rome, he would be glad to travel in it. But if not, yet he will go
through with you, and will continue ever in that mind, the same not
withstanding. And like as he is not lettred, so will he not charge your
Majesty with the argument of the Bishop's state, but leave it alone to
them that it toucheth."[334]
On these terms, apparently satisfactory, the _entente cordiale_ was
restored between England and Spain. It was threatened by a cloud in
November, when a truce[335] was concluded between Charles and Francis;
but the light suspicion was dispelled by assurances that if the truce
was followed by a peace, "the King of England should be in the same as a
principal contrahent;" "that nothing should be therein concluded which
might redound to his dishonour or miscontentment."[336] The alliance
promised stability: by skilful management it might be even more strongly
cemented.
[Sidenote: December 23. Various ladies suggested as successors to Jane
Seymour.]
[Sidenote: Christina Duchess of Milan.]
[Sidenote: Objection and advantage in this connexion.]
[Sidenote: January 22.]
[Sidenote: The Emperor accepts the proposal, and adds to it.]
[Sidenote: February 22.]
The English council were now busily engaged in selecting a successor for
Jane Seymour. Mendoza, in the name of the Emperor, proposed the Infanta
of Portugal. "The offer was thankfully taken,"[337] but was for some
cause unwelcome, and died in its first mention. Cromwell had thrown out
feelers in the various European courts. Madame de Longueville was
thought of,[338] if she was not already destined for another
throne.[339] Hutton, the English agent in Flanders, recommended several
ladies as more or less desirable: a daughter of the Lord of Brederode,
the Countess of Egmont, Anne of Cleves (of the latter, however, adding,
that she was said to be plain), and finally, and with especial emphasis,
Christina of Denmark, the young relict of the Duke of Milan, and the
niece of the Emperor. The duchess was tall, handsome, and though a
widow, not more than sixteen.[340] The alliance would be honourable in
itself: it would be a link reconnecting England with the Empire; and,
more important still, Charles in his consent would condone before the
world the affront of the divorce of Catherine. One obstacle only
presented itself, which, with skilful management, might perhaps prove a
fresh recommendation. In the eyes of all persons of the Roman communion
the marriage with Catherine was of course considered valid, and the lady
stood towards her aunt's husband within the degrees of affinity in which
marriage was unlawful without a dispensation from the Pope. This
certainly was a difficulty; but it was possible that Charles's anxiety
for the connexion might induce him to break the knot, and break with the
Papacy. On the Duchess of Milan, therefore, the choice of the English
government rested; and in January Sir Thomas Wyatt was directed to
suggest to the Emperor, as of his own motion, that his niece would be a
fit wife for the king.[341] The hint was caught at with gracious
eagerness. Mendoza instantly received instructions to make the proposal
in form, and, as if this single union was insufficient, to desire at the
same time that Henry would bestow the Lady Mary on Don Louis of
Portugal. Henry acquiesced, and, seeing Charles so forward, added to his
acquiescence the yet further suggestion that the Prince of Wales should
be betrothed to the Emperor's daughter, and Elizabeth to one of the many
sons of the King of the Romans.[342] Both princes appeared to be
overflowing with cordiality. Charles repeated his promises, that when
peace was concluded with France, the King of England should be a
contracting party. The Queen Regent wrote to Cromwell, thanking him for
his zeal in forwarding the Emperor's interests with his master.[343] The
Duchess of Milan sate for her picture to Holbein for Henry's
cabinet,[344] and professed for herself that she was wholly at her
uncle's disposal.[345] Commissioners had only to be appointed to draw
the marriage treaty, and all might at once be arranged. The dispensation
so far had not been mentioned. Mendoza, indeed, had again pressed Henry
to accept the Emperor's good offices at the Vatican; but he had been met
with a refusal so absolute as to forbid the further mooting of the
question; and the negotiations for these several alliances being
continued as amicably as before, the king flattered himself that the
difficulty was waived, or else would be privately disposed of.
[Sidenote: March. Warnings are sent from France that the Emperor is
insincere.]
Either the Emperor's true intentions were better known in Paris than in
London, or Francis was alarmed at the rapid friendship, and desired to
chill down its temperature. While gracious messages and compliments were
passing between England and Spain and Flanders, the Bishop of Tarbes was
sent over with an offer on the part of the French to make Henry sole
mediator in the peace, and with a promise that, in the matter of the
general council, and in all other things, Francis would be "his good
brother and most entire friend." The Emperor, the bishop asserted on his
own knowledge, was playing a part of mere duplicity. Whatever he said,
or whatever others said for him, he had determined that England should
not be comprehended in the treaty. The king would be left out--dropped
out--in some way or other got rid of--when his friendship ceased to be
of moment; and so he would find to his cost.
[Sidenote: Henry, however, will confide in the Emperor's honor,]
[Sidenote: But desires Charles to commit himself in writing.]
The warning might have been well meant, the offer might have been
sincere, but the experience was too recent of the elastic character of
French promises. Henry refused to believe that Charles was deceiving
him; he replied with a declaration of his full confidence in the
Emperor's honour, and declined with cold courtesy the counter-advances
of his rival. Yet he was less satisfied than he desired to appear. He
sent to Sir T. Wyatt an account of the Bishop of Tarbes's expressions,
desiring him to acquaint the Emperor with their nature, and with the
answer which he had returned; but hinting at the same time, that
although the general language of the Flemish and Spanish courts was as
warm as he could desire, yet so far it amounted only to words. The
proposal to constitute him sole mediator in the peace was an advance
upon the furthest positive step towards him which had been taken by
Charles, and he requested a direct engagement in writing, both as to his
comprehension in the intended treaty, and on the equally important
subject alluded to by the bishop, of the approaching council.[346]
[Sidenote: April 5. The commissioners meet in April to arrange the
marriages, and separate ineffectually.]
Meanwhile the marriages, if once they were completed, would be a
security for good faith in other matters; and on this point no
difficulties were interposed till the middle of the spring. The amount
of dotes and dowries, with the securities for their payment, the
conditions under which Mary was to succeed to the crown, and other legal
details, were elaborately discussed. At length, when the substance
seemed all to be determined, and the form only to remain, the first
official conference was opened on the 5th of April, with the Spanish
commissioners, who, as was supposed, had come to London for that single
and special purpose. The card castle so carefully raised crumbled into
instant ruins--the solid ground was unsubstantial air. The commissioners
had no commission: they would agree to nothing, arrange nothing, promise
nothing. "I never heard so many gay words, and saw so little effect
ensue of the same," wrote Cromwell in the passion of his disappointment;
"I begin to perceive that there is scarce any good faith in this world."
[Sidenote: Preparations for the pacification of Nice.]
Henry's eyes were opening, but opening slowly and reluctantly. Though
irritated for the moment, he listened readily to the excuses with which
Charles was profusely ready; and if Charles had not been intentionally
treacherous, he reaped the full advantage of the most elaborate
deception. In the same month it was arranged between the courts of
France and Spain that the truce should, if possible, become a peace. The
place of mediator, which Henry had rejected at the hands of France, had
been offered to and accepted by the Pope, and the consequences foretold
by the Bishop of Tarbes were now obviously imminent. Paul had succeeded
at last, it seemed, in his great object--the two Catholic powers were
about to be united. The effect of this reconciliation, brought about by
such means, would be followed in all likelihood by a renewal of the
project for an attack on the Reformation, and on all its supporters.
Nice was chosen for the scene of the great event of pacification, which
was to take place in June. The two sovereigns were to be present in
person; the Pope would meet them, and sanctify the reconciliation with
his blessing.
The Emperor continued, notwithstanding the change of circumstances, to
use the same language of friendship towards Henry, and professed to be
as anxious as ever for the maintenance of his connexion with England.
Wyatt himself partially, but not entirely, distrusted him, until his
conduct no longer admitted any construction but the worst.
[Sidenote: June. Congress of Nice.]
[Sidenote: A ten years' truce is concluded between France and Spain.
Henry's name is not mentioned.]
The affair at Nice was the central incident of the summer. Wyatt went
thither in Charles's train. Paul came accompanied by Pole. Many English
were present belonging to both parties: royal emissaries as
spies--passionate Catholic exiles, flushed with hope and triumph. We see
them, indistinctly, winding into one another's confidence--"practising"
to worm out secrets--treachery undermined by greater treachery; and, at
last, expectations but half gratified, a victory left but half gained.
The two princes refused to see each other. They communicated only
through the Pope. In the end, terms of actual peace could not be agreed
upon. The conferences closed with the signature of a general truce, to
last for ten years. One marked consolation only the Pope obtained.
Notwithstanding the many promises, Henry's name was not so much as
mentioned by the Emperor. He was left out, as Wyatt expressed it, "at
the cart's tail." Against him the Pope remained free to intrigue and the
princes free to act, could Pole or his master prevail upon them. The
secret history of the proceedings cannot be traced in this place, if
indeed the materials exist which allow them to be traced
satisfactorily. With infinite comfort, however, in the midst of the
diplomatic trickeries, we discover one little island of genuine life on
which to rest for a few moments,--a group, distinctly visible, of
English flesh and blood existences.
Henry, unable, even after the Nice meeting had been agreed upon, to
relinquish his hopes of inducing other princes to imitate his policy
towards Rome, was determined, notwithstanding avowals of reluctance on
the part of Charles, that his arguments should have a hearing; and, as
the instrument of persuasion, he had selected the facile and voluble Dr.
Bonner. Charles was on his way to the congress when the appointment was
resolved upon.
[Sidenote: Mission of Dr. Bonner to convert the Emperor. The Emperor
will not argue with him,]
[Sidenote: And Dr. Bonner becomes Wyatt's guest.]
Bonner crossed France to meet him; but the Emperor, either distrustful
of his ability to cope with so skilful a polemic, or too busy to be
trifled with, declined resolutely to have anything to do with him.
Bonner was thus thrown upon Wyatt's hospitality, and was received by him
at Villa Franca, where, for convenience and economy, the English embassy
had secured apartments remote from the heat and crowd in Nice itself.
Sir John Mason, Mr. Blage, and other friends of the ambassadors, were of
the party. The future Bishop of London, it seems, though accepted as
their guest, was not admitted to their intimacy; and, being set aside in
his own special functions, he determined to console himself in a solid
and substantial manner for the slight which had been cast upon him. In
an evil hour for himself, three years after, he tried to revenge himself
on Wyatt's coldness by accusations of loose living, and other
calumnies. Wyatt, after briefly disposing of the charges against his
own actions, retorted with a sketch of Bonner's.
[Sidenote: How the future Bishop of London amused himself at Nice.]
"Come, now, my Lord of London," he said, "what is my abominable and
vicious living? Do ye know it, or have ye heard it? I grant I do not
profess chastity--but yet I use not abomination. If ye know it, tell
with whom and when. If ye heard it, who is your author? Have you seen me
have any harlot in my house while you were in my company? Did you ever
see a woman so much as dine or sup at my table? None but, for your
pleasure, the woman that was in the galley--which, I assure you, may be
well seen--for, before you came, neither she nor any other woman came
above the mast; but because the gentlemen took pleasure to see you
entertain her, therefore they made her dine and sup with you. And they
liked well your looks--your carving to Madonna--your drinking to
her--and your playing under the table. Ask Mason--ask Blage--ask Wolf
that was my steward. They can tell how the gentlemen marked it and
talked of it. It was play to them, the keeping your bottles, that no man
might drink of them but yourself, and that the little fat priest was a
jolly morsel for the signora. This was their talk. It was not my device.
Ask others whether I do lie."[347]
Such was Bonner. The fame, or infamy, which he earned for himself in
later years condemns his minor vices to perpetual memory; or perhaps it
is a relief to find that he was linked to mankind by participating in
their more venial frailties.
Leaving Nice, with its sunny waters, and intrigues, and dissipations, we
return to England.
[Sidenote: Demolition of the religious houses.]
[Sidenote: Mutinous condition of the houses unsuppressed.]
[Sidenote: Voluntary surrenders become frequent. The friars of St.
Francis, in Stamford, consider that Christian living does not consist in
ducking and becking.]
Here the tide, which had been checked for awhile by the rebellion, was
again in full flow. The abbeys within the compass of the act had fallen,
or were rapidly falling. Among these the demolition was going actively
forward. Among the larger houses fresh investigations were bringing
secrets into light which would soon compel a larger measure of
destruction. The restoration of discipline, which had been hoped for,
was found impossible. Monks who had been saturated with habits of
self-indulgence, mutinied and became unmanageable when confined within
the convent walls.[348] Abbots in the confidence of the government were
accused as heretics. Catholic abbots were denounced as traitors.
Countless letters lie among the State Papers, indicating in a thousand
ways that the last hour of monasticism was approaching; that by no care
of government, no efforts to put back the clock of time, could their
sickly vitality be longer sustained. Everywhere, as if conscious that
their days were numbered, the fraternities were preparing for evil days
by disposing of their relics,[349] secreting or selling their plate and
jewels, cutting down the timber on the estates, using in all directions
their last opportunity of racking out their properties. Many, either
from a hope of making terms for themselves, or from an honest sense
that they were unfit to continue, declared voluntarily that they would
burden the earth no longer, and voted their own dissolution. "We do
profoundly consider," said the warden and friars of St. Francis in
Stamford, "that the perfection of a Christian living doth not consist in
douce ceremonies, wearing of a grey coat, disguising ourselves after
strange fashions, ducking and becking, girding ourselves with a girdle
of knots, wherein we have been misled in times past; but the very true
way to please God, and to live like Christian men without hypocrisy or
feigned dissimulation, is sincerely declared unto us by our master
Christ, his Evangelists and Apostles. Being minded, therefore, to follow
the same, conforming ourselves unto the will and pleasure of our Supreme
Head under God in earth, and not to follow henceforth superstitious
traditions, we do, with mutual assent and consent, surrender and yield
up all our said house, with all its lands and tenements, beseeching the
king's good grace to dispose of us as shall best stand with his most
gracious pleasure."[350]
[Sidenote: The prior and convent of St. Andrews confess to carnal
living.]
"We," said the prior and convent of St. Andrews, "called religious
persons, taking on us the habit and outward vesture of our rule, only to
the intent to lead our lives in idle quietness, and not in virtuous
exercise, in a stately estimation, and not in obedient humility, have,
under the shadow of the said rule, vainly, detestably, and ungodly
devoured the yearly revenues of our possessions in continual
ingurgitations and farcings of our bodies, and other supporters of our
voluptuous and carnal appetites, to the manifest subversion of devotion
and cleanness of living, and to the most notable slander of Christ's
holy Evangile, withdrawing from the minds of his Grace's subjects the
truth and comfort which they ought to have by the faith of Christ, and
also the honour due to the glorious majesty of God Almighty, stirring
them with persuasions, engines, and policy to dead images and
counterfeit relics for our damnable lucre; which our horrible
abominations and long-covered hypocrisy, we revolving daily, and
pondering in our sorrowful hearts, constrained by the anguish of our
consciences, with hearts most contrite and repentant, do lamentably
crave his Highness' most gracious pardon,"--they also submitting and
surrendering their house.[351]
[Sidenote: General investigation into the pretensions of images and
relics.]
[Sidenote: The blood of Hales.]
[Sidenote: Our Lady's taper of Cardigan.]
Six years had passed since four brave Suffolk peasants had burnt the
rood at Dovercourt; and for their reward had received a gallows and a
rope. The high powers of state were stepping now along the road which
these men had pioneered, discovering, after all, that the road was the
right road, and that the reward had been altogether an unjust one. The
"materials" of monastic religion were the real or counterfeit relics of
real or counterfeit saints, and images of Christ or the Virgin, supposed
to work miraculous cures upon pilgrims, and not supposed, but
ascertained, to bring in a pleasant and abundant revenue to their happy
possessors. A special investigation into the nature of these objects of
popular devotion was now ordered, with results which more than any other
exposure disenchanted the people with superstition, and converted their
faith into an equally passionate iconoclasm. At Hales in Worcestershire
was a phial of blood, as famous for its powers and properties as the
blood of St. Januarius at Naples. The phial was opened by the visitors
in the presence of an awe-struck multitude. No miracle punished the
impiety. The mysterious substance was handled by profane fingers, and
was found to be a mere innocent gum, and not blood at all, adequate to
work no miracle either to assist its worshippers or avenge its
violation.[352] Another rare treasure was preserved at Cardigan. The
story of our Lady's taper there has a picturesque wildness, of which
later ages may admire the legendary beauty, being relieved by three
centuries of incredulity from the necessity of raising harsh
alternatives of truth or falsehood. An image of the Virgin had been
found, it was said, standing at the mouth of the Tivy river, with an
infant Christ in her lap, and the taper in her hand burning. She was
carried to Christ Church, in Cardigan, but "would not tarry there." She
returned again and again to the spot where she was first found; and a
chapel was at last built there to receive and shelter her. In this
chapel she remained for nine years, the taper burning, yet not
consuming, till some rash Welshman swore an oath by her, and broke it;
and the taper at once went out, and never could be kindled again. The
visitors had no leisure for sentiment. The image was torn from its
shrine. The taper was found to be a piece of painted wood, and on
experiment was proved submissive to a last conflagration.[353]
[Sidenote: The "great sibyll of Worcester."]
Kings are said to find the step a short one from deposition to the
scaffold. The undeified images passed by a swift transition to the
flames. The Lady of Worcester had been lately despoiled of her apparel.
"I trust," wrote Latimer to the vicegerent, that "your lordship will
bestow our great sibyll to some good purpose--_ut pereat memoria cum
sonitu_--she hath been the devil's instrument to bring many, I fear, to
eternal fire. She herself, with her old sister of Walsingham, her
younger sister of Ipswich, with their two other sisters of Doncaster and
Penrice, would make a jolly muster in Smithfield. They would not be all
day in burning."[354] The hard advice was taken. The objects of the
passionate devotion of centuries were rolled in carts to London as huge
dishonoured lumber; and the eyes of the citizens were gratified with a
more innocent immolation than those with which the church authorities
had been in the habit of indulging them.
[Sidenote: The rood of Boxley.]
[Sidenote: February. The rood is exhibited in Maidstone.]
The fate of the rood of Boxley, again, was a famous incident of the
time. At Boxley, in Kent, there stood an image, the eyes of which on
fit occasions "did stir like a lively thing." The body bowed, the
forehead frowned. It dropped its lower lip, as if to speak.[355] The
people in this particular rood, beyond all others, saw the living
presence of Christ, and offerings in superabundant measure had poured in
upon the monks. It happened that a rationalistic commissioner, looking
closely, discovered symptoms of motion at the back of the figure.
Suspicion caused inquiry, and inquiry exposure. The mystery had a
natural explanation in machinery. The abbot and the elder brethren took
refuge in surprise, and knew nothing. But the fact was patent; and the
unveiled fraud was of a kind which might be useful. "When I had seen
this strange object," said the discoverer, "and considering that the
inhabitants of the county of Kent had in times past a great devotion to
the same image, and did keep continual pilgrimage thither, by the advice
of others that were here with me, I did convey the said image unto
Maidstone on the market day; and in the chief of the market time did
shew it openly unto all the people then being present, to see the false,
crafty, and subtle handling thereof, to the dishonour of God and
illusion of the said people; who, I dare say, if the late monastery were
to be defaced again (the King's Grace not offended), they would either
pluck it down to the ground, or else burn it; for they have the said
matter in wondrous detestation and hatred."[356]
[Sidenote: It performs before the court,]
[Sidenote: April. And is destroyed at Paul's Cross]
But the rood was not allowed to be forgotten after a single exhibition;
the imposture was gross, and would furnish a wholesome comment on the
suppression, if it was shown off in London. From Maidstone, therefore,
it was taken to the palace at Whitehall, and performed before the
court.[357] From the palace it was carried on to its last judgment and
execution at Paul's Cross. It was placed upon a stage opposite the
pulpit, and passed through its postures, while the Bishop of Rochester
lectured upon it in a sermon. When the crowd was worked into adequate
indignation, the scaffold was made to give way, the image fell, and in a
few moments was torn in pieces.
[Sidenote: The spirit of retribution inevitably awakened,]
Thus in all parts of England superstition was attacked in its
strongholds, and destroyed there. But the indignation which was the
natural recoil from credulity would not be satisfied with the
destruction of images. The idol was nothing. The guilt was not with the
wood and stone, but in the fraud and folly which had practised with
these brute instruments against the souls of men. In Scotland and the
Netherlands the work of retribution was accomplished by a rising of the
people themselves in armed revolution. In England the readiness of the
government spared the need of a popular explosion; the monasteries were
not sacked by mobs, or the priests murdered; but the same fierceness,
the same hot spirit of anger was abroad, though confined within the
restraints of the law. The law itself gave effect, in harsh and
sanguinary penalties, to the rage which had been kindled.
[Sidenote: And pushed into barbarous extremes.]
The punishments under the Act of Supremacy were not wholly frightful.
No governments can permit their subjects to avow an allegiance to an
alien and hostile power; and the executions were occasioned, I have
observed already, by the same necessity, and must be regarded with the
same feelings, as the deaths of brave men in battle, who, in questions
of life and death, take their side to kill others or be killed. A blind
animosity now betrays itself in an act of needless cruelty, for the
details of which no excuse can be pleaded by custom or precedent, which
clouds the memory of the greatest of the Reformers, and can be endured
only, when regarded at a distance, as an instance of the wide justice of
Providence, which punishes wrong by wrong, and visits on single men the
offences of thousands.
[Sidenote: Offenses of Friar Forest.]
Forest, the late Prior of the Observants Convent at Greenwich, since the
dissolution of his order in consequence of the affair of the Nun of
Kent, had halted between a state of concealed disaffection and pretended
conformity. In his office of confessor he was found to have instructed
his penitents that, for himself, "he had denied the Bishop of Rome in
his outward, but not in his inward man;" and he had encouraged them,
notwithstanding their oath, to persevere in their old allegiance. He had
thus laid himself open to prosecution for treason; and whatever penalty
was due to an avowal of being the Pope's liege-man had been doubly
earned by treachery. If he had been tried and had suffered like Sir
Thomas More and the monks of the Charterhouse, his sentence would have
ranked with theirs. The same causes which explained the executions of
honourable men would have applied with greater force to that of one who
had deepened his offences by duplicity. But the crown prosecutors, for
some unknown reason, bestowed upon him a distinction in suffering.
When first arrested he was terrified: he acknowledged his offences,
submitted, and was pardoned. But his conscience recovered its strength:
he returned to his loyalty to the Papacy; he declared his belief that,
in matters spiritual, the Pope was his proper sovereign, that the Bishop
of Rochester was a martyr, as Thomas à Becket had been a martyr. Becket
he held up as the pattern of all churchmen's imitation, courting for
himself Becket's fortunes.[358] Like others, he attempted a distinction
in the nature of allegiance. "In matters secular his duty was to his
prince." But, on the threshold of the exception lay the difficulty which
no Catholic could evade,--what was the duty of a subject when a king was
excommunicated, and declared to have forfeited his crown?
Forest, therefore, fell justly under the treason law. But, inasmuch as
Catholic churchmen declared the denial of the Pope's supremacy to be
heresy, so, for a few unfortunate months, English churchmen determined
the denial of the king's supremacy to be heresy; Forest was to be
proceeded against for an offence against spiritual truth as well as a
crime against the law of the land; and Cranmer is found corresponding
with Cromwell on the articles on which he was to be examined.[359] I do
not know that the document which I am about to quote was composed for
this special occasion. For the first, and happily the last time, the
meaning of it was acted upon.
[Sidenote: Anglican definition of heresy, which is extended to a denial
of the royal supremacy.]
[Sidenote: Forest is sentenced to death.]
In an official paper of about this date, I find "heresy" defined to be
"that which is against Scripture." "To say, therefore, that Peter and
his successors be heads of the universal Church, and stand stubbornly in
it, is heresy, because it is against Scripture (Ecclesiastes v.); where
it is written, 'Insuper universæ terræ rex imperat servienti'--that is
to say, the king commandeth the whole country as his subjects; and
therefore it followeth that the Bishop of Rome, which is in Italy where
the Emperor is king, is subject to the Emperor, and that the Emperor may
command him; and if he should be head of the universal Church, then he
should be head over the Emperor, and command the Emperor, and that is
directly against the said text, Ecclesiastes v. Wherefore, to stand in
it opiniatively is heresy."[360] In the spirit, if not in the letter of
this monstrous reasoning, Forest was indicted for heresy in a court
where we would gladly believe that Cranmer did not sit as president. He
was found guilty, and was delivered over, in the usual form, to the
secular arm.
[Sidenote: The image of Dderfel Gadern.]
An accidental coincidence contributed to the dramatic effect of his
execution. In a chapel at Llan Dderfel, in North Wales, there had stood
a figure of an ancient Welsh, saint, called Dderfel Gadern. The figure
was a general favourite. The Welsh people "came daily in pilgrimage to
him, some with kyne, some with oxen and horses, and the rest with money,
insomuch" (I quote a letter of Ellis Price, the Merionethshire visitor)
"that there were five or six hundred, to a man's estimation, that
offered to the said image the fifth day of this month of April. The
innocent people hath been sore allured and enticed to worship, insomuch
that there is a common saying amongst them that, whosoever will offer
anything to the image of Dderfel Gadern, he hath power to fetch him or
them that so offer, out of hell."[361] The visitor desired to know what
he should do with Dderfel Gadern, and received orders to despatch the
thing at once to London. The parishioners offered to subscribe forty
pounds to preserve their profitable possession,[362] but in
vain--Cromwell was ruthless. The image was sent to the same destination
with the rest of his kind; and, arriving opportunely, it was hewn into
fuel to form the pile where the victim of the new heresy court was to
suffer.
[Sidenote: May. Latimer is appointed to preach at Forest's execution,]
[Sidenote: Who is slung in chains over the fire,]
[Sidenote: Refuses to recant,]
[Sidenote: And is burnt.]
A day at the end of May was fixed for Forest's death. Latimer was
selected to preach on the occasion; and a singular letter remains from
him from which I try to gather that he accepted reluctantly the
ungrateful service. "Sir," he addressed Cromwell, "if it be your
pleasure, as it is, that I shall play the fool after my customable
manner when Forest shall suffer, I would wish that my stage stood near
unto Forest, for I would endeavour myself so to content the people, that
therewith I might also convert Forest, God so helping, or, rather,
altogether working. Wherefore, I would that he shall hear what I shall
say--_si forte_. If he would yet, with his heart, return to his
abjuration, I would wish his pardon. Such is my foolishness."[363] The
gleam of pity, though so faint and feeble that it seemed a thing to be
ashamed of, is welcome from that hard time. The preparations were made
with a horrible completeness. It was the single supremacy case which
fell to the conduct of ecclesiastics; and ecclesiastics of all
professions, in all ages, have been fertile in ingenious cruelty. A
gallows was erected over the stake, from which the wretched victim was
to be suspended in a cradle of chains. When the machinery was complete,
and the chips of the idol lay ready, he was brought out and placed upon
a platform. The Lord Mayor, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, Lord
Southampton, and Cromwell were present with a pardon, if at the last
moment his courage should fail, and he would ask for it. The sermon
began. It was of the usual kind--the passionate language of passionate
conviction. When it was over, Latimer turned to Forest, and asked him
whether he would live or die. "I will die" was the gallant answer. "Do
your worst upon me. Seven years ago you durst not, for your life, have
preached such words as these; and now, if an angel from heaven should
come down and teach me any other doctrine than that which I learnt as a
child, I would not believe him. Take me; cut me to pieces, joint from
joint. Burn--hang--do what you will--I will be true henceforth to my
faith."[364] It was enough. He was laid upon his iron bed, and slung off
into the air, and the flame was kindled. In his mortal agony he clutched
at the steps of the ladder, to sway himself out of the blaze; and the
pitiless chronicler, who records the scene, could see only in this last
weakness an evidence of guilt. "So impatiently," says Hall, "he took his
death as never any man that put his trust in God."[365]
[Sidenote: The bodies of the saints.]
Still the torrent rolled onward. Monasteries and images were gone, and
fancied relics, in endless numbers. There remained the peculiar
treasures of the great abbeys and cathedrals--the mortal remains of the
holy men in whose memories they had been founded, who by martyrs'
deaths, or lives of superhuman loftiness, had earned the veneration of
later ages. The bodies of the saints had been gathered into costly
shrines, which a beautiful piety had decorated with choicest offerings.
In an age which believed, without doubt or pretence, that the body of a
holy man was incorporated into the body of Christ, that the seeming dust
was pure as Christ's body was pure, and would form again the living home
of the spirit which had gone away but for awhile, such dust was looked
upon with awe and pious fear. Sacred influences were imagined to exhale
from it. It was a divine thing, blessed and giving blessing. Alas! that
the noblest feelings can pass so swiftly into their opposites, that
reverend simplicity should become the parent of a miserable
superstition! The natural instinct of veneration had ossified into
idolatry, and saints' bones became charms and talismans. The saints
themselves became invisible under the swathings of lies. The serpent of
healing had become a Nehushtan--an accursed thing, and, with the system
to which it belonged, was to pass away and come no more.
[Sidenote: Circulars for the demolition of shrines.]
The sheriffs and magistrates of the various counties received circulars
from the vicegerent, directing that "whereas prayers were offered at the
shrines which were due to God only, that the honour which belonged to
the Creator was by a notable superstition given to the creature, and
ignorant people, enticed by the clergy, had fallen thereby into great
error and idolatry," they were to repair severally to the cathedrals,
churches, or chapels in which any such shrine might be. The relics,
reliquaries, gold, silver, or jewels, which they contained, were to be
taken out and sent to the king; and they were to see with their own eyes
the shrine itself levelled to the ground, and the pavement cleared of
it.[366] The order was fulfilled with or without reluctance. Throughout
England, by the opening of the year 1539, there was nothing left to tell
of the presence of the saints but the names which clung to the churches
which they had built, or the shadowy memories which hung about their
desecrated tombs.
Only in one instance was the demolition of a shrine marked by anything
peculiar.
[Sidenote: Historical aspect of the English Reformation.]
[Sidenote: Thomas à Becket.]
[Sidenote: August 18.]
[Sidenote: The historical champion of the Church. Sept. 30.]
[Sidenote: October. His shrine at Canterbury is destroyed, and his bones
are burnt;]
[Sidenote: And an official narrative is published of his conduct.]
The aim from the beginning of the movement, both of the king and the
parliament, had been to represent their measures not as new things, but
as a reassertion of English independence, a revival of the historical
policy of the English kings. From the defeat of Henry II., on the death
of Becket, to the accession of the house of Lancaster, the Plantagenet
princes had fought inch by inch for the recovery of the ground which had
been lost. After sleeping a century and a half, the battle had
recommenced; and the crown was determined to inaugurate its victories by
the disgrace and destruction of the famous champion whose spirit still
seemed to linger in the field. On the 18th of August Cranmer informed
the vicegerent that he suspected that the blood of St. Thomas of
Canterbury shown in the cathedral was an imposture, like the blood of
Hales, "a feigned thing, made of some red ochre, or such like
matter."[367] He desired that there might be an investigation, and
mentioned Dr. Legh and his own chaplain as persons fitted for the
conduct of it. The request appears to have been granted, and the
suspicion about the blood to have been confirmed.[368] The opportunity
was taken to settle accounts in full with the hero of the English
Church. On the 30th of September the shrine and the relics were shown,
perhaps for the last time, to Madame de Montreuil and a party of French
ladies.[369] In the following month the bones of the martyr who for
centuries had been venerated throughout Europe, which peers and princes
had crossed the seas to look upon, which tens of thousands of pilgrims
year after year for all those ages had crowded to reverence, were torn
from their hallowed resting-place, and burnt to powder, and scattered to
the winds. The golden plating of the shrine, the emeralds and rubies,
the votive offerings of the whole Christian world, were packed in
chests, and despatched to the treasury. The chiselled stone was
splintered with hammers. The impressions worn upon the pavement by the
millions of knees[370] which had bent in adoration there, alone remained
to tell of the glory which had been. Simultaneously with the destruction
of his remains, Becket's name was erased out of the service-books, the
innumerable church-windows in which his history was painted were broken,
the day which commemorated his martyrdom was forbidden to be observed;
and in explanation of so exceptional a vehemence an official narrative
was published by the government of the circumstances of his end, in
which he was described as a traitor to the state, who had perished in a
scuffle provoked by his own violence.[371]
[Sidenote: Agitation of Catholic Christendom.]
The executions of More and Fisher had convulsed Europe; but the second
shock was felt as much more deeply than the first as the glory of the
saint is above the fame of the highest of living men. The impious
tyrant, it now seemed, would transfer his warfare even into heaven, and
dethrone the gods. The tomb of Becket was the property of Christendom
rather than of England. There was scarcely a princely or a noble family
on the Continent some member of which had not at one time or other gone
thither on pilgrimage, whose wealth had not contributed something to the
treasure which was now seized for the royal coffers. A second act had
opened in the drama--a crisis fruitful in great events at home and
abroad.
[Sidenote: Anxiety in England for the king's marriage.]
[Sidenote: Charles keeps up appearances till the autumn.]
The first immediate effect was on the treaty for the king's marriage.
Notwithstanding the trifling of the commissioners in
April,--notwithstanding the pacification of Nice, and the omission of
the king's name among the contracting parties,--Charles succeeded in
persuading Wyatt that he was as anxious as ever for the completion of
the entire group of the proposed connexions; and Henry, on his part, was
complacently credulous. The country was impatient to see him provided
with a wife who might be the mother of a Duke of York. Day after day the
council remonstrated with him on the loss of precious time;[372] and
however desirable in itself the imperial alliance appeared, his subjects
were more anxious that he should be rapidly married somewhere, than that
even for such an object there should be longer delay. But Charles
continued to give fair words; and the king, although warned, as he
avowed, on all sides, to put no faith in them, refused to believe that
Charles would cloud his reputation with so sustained duplicity; and in
August he sent Sir Thomas Wriothesley to Flanders, to obtain, if
possible, some concluding answer.
[Sidenote: October.]
[Sidenote: He grows cold.]
[Sidenote: November 20.]
[Sidenote: Wriothesley reports a hostile feeling at Brussels.]
The Regent, in receiving Wriothesley, assured him that his master's
confidence was well placed--that "the Emperor was a prince of honour,"
and never meant "to proceed with any practice of dissimulation."
Whatever others might choose to say, both she and her brother remained
in one mind and purpose, and desired nothing better than to see the
Duchess Christina Queen of England.[373] Her language remained similarly
cordial till the beginning of October; and, as the least violent
hypothesis is generally the safest, it may be believed that till this
time the Emperor had really entertained, or had not as yet relinquished,
the intention of bestowing his niece as he professed to wish. But from
the end of the autumn the tide turned, and soon flowed visibly the other
way. There was no abrupt conclusion--the preliminaries were wearily
argued day after day. The English minister was still treated with
courtesy; but his receptions had lost their warmth, and with court and
people his favour chilled with the changing season. He was taunted with
the English apostasy from the Church. "It is said that religion is
extinct among us," he wrote in November,--"that we have no masses--that
the saints are burned--and all that was taken for holy clearly
subverted."[374] Each day the prospect became visibly darker: from
cordiality there was a change to politeness--from politeness to
distance--from distance to something like a menace of hostility. The
alteration can without difficulty be interpreted.
[Sidenote: The Pope launches his bull,]
[Sidenote: January. And Pole's book is printed.]
The intentions of the Papal court had been made known by Michael
Throgmorton, in his letter to Cromwell. The Pope's movements were,
perhaps, quickened when the insult to the martyr's bones became known to
him. The opportunity was in every way favourable. France and Spain were
at peace; the Catholic world was exasperated by the outrage at
Canterbury. The hour was come--he rose upon his throne, and launched
with all his might his long-forged thunderbolt. Clement's censure had
been mild sheet lightning, flickering harmlessly in the distance: Paul's
was the forked flash, intended to blight and kill. Reginald Pole, his
faithful adherent, had by this time rewritten his book: he had enriched
it with calumnies, either freshly learned, or made credible in his new
access of frenzy. It was now printed, and sown broadcast over
Christendom. The Pope appended a postscript to his Bull of Deposition,
explaining the delay in the issue: not, as he had explained that delay
to Henry himself, by pretending that he had executed no more than a form
which had never been intended for use; but professing to have withheld a
just and necessary punishment at the intercession of the European
sovereigns. But his mercy had been despised, his long-suffering had been
abused, and the monstrous king had added crime to crime, killing living
priests and profaning the sepulchres of the dead. In his contempt for
religion he had cited the sainted Thomas of Canterbury to be tried as a
traitor; he had passed an impious sentence upon him as contumacious. The
blessed bones, through which Almighty God had worked innumerable
miracles, he had torn from their shrine of gold, and burnt them
sacrilegiously to ashes. He had seized the treasures consecrated to
Heaven; he had wasted and robbed the houses of religion; and, as he had
transformed himself into a wild beast, so to the beasts of the field he
had given honour beyond human beings. He had expelled the monks from
their houses, and turned his cattle among the vacant ruins. These things
he had done, and his crimes could be endured no longer. As a putrid
member he was cut off from the Church.[375]
[Sidenote: Pole goes to Spain to rouse the Emperor.]
The book and the excommunication being thus completed and issued, Pole
was once more despatched to rouse the Emperor to invasion, having again
laid a train to explode, as he hoped successfully, when the Spanish
troops should land.
The Pope's intentions must have been made known to Charles before they
were put in force, and interpret the change of treatment experienced by
Wriothesley. Whether, as a sovereign prince, he would or would not
consent to give the active support which was to be demanded of him, the
Emperor, perhaps, had not determined even in his own mind; but at least
he would not choose the opportunity to draw closer his connexion with
the object of the Church's censures.
[Sidenote: The marriage treaty is finally relinquished.]
On the 21st of January Wriothesley wrote to Cromwell that he had no more
hopes of the Duchess of Milan, and that the king must look elsewhere.
"If this marriage may not be had," he said, "I pray his Grace may fix
his noble stomach in some such other place as may be to his quiet." "And
then," he added, chafed with the slight which had been passed upon his
sovereign, "I fear not to see the day, if God give me life but for a
small season, that as his Majesty is father to all Christian kings in
time of reign and excellency of wisdom, so his Highness shall have his
neighbours in that stay that they shall be glad to do him honour and to
yield unto him his own."[376]
[Sidenote: Henry may bring the Pope to reason at the gates of Rome.]
For the present, however, the feeling of the Netherlanders was of mere
hostility. The ruin of England was talked of as certain and instant.
James of Scotland and Francis were "to do great things," and "the
Emperor, it might be, would assist them." The ambassador tossed aside
their presages. "These men," said one of his despatches, "publicly tell
me how the Bishop of Rome hath now given a new sentence against the
King's Majesty. I discourse to them how much every of the princes of
Europe is bound to his Majesty; what every of them hath to do for
himself; how little need we have to care for them if they would all
break their faith and for kindness show ingratitude: and I show myself,
besides, of no less hope than to see his Majesty, as God's minister,
correct that tyrant--that usurper of Rome--even within Rome's gates, to
the glory of God, and the greatest benefit that ever came to
Christendom."[377]
[Sidenote: February 21. Arrest of English ships in Flanders, and recall
of the Spanish ambassador.]
But, though Wriothesley carried himself proudly, his position was
embarrassing. The regent grew daily more distant, her ministers more
threatening. The Spaniards resident in England suddenly were observed to
be hastening away, carrying their properties with them. At length, on
the 21st of February, a proclamation was sent out laying all English
ships in Flanders under arrest. Mendoza was recalled from London, and
the common conversation on the Bourse at Antwerp was that the united
force of France and the Empire would be thrown immediately on the
English coasts.[378]
For a closer insight into the Emperor's conduct, I must again go back
over the ground. The history at this point is woven of many fibres.
[Sidenote: Pole's Apology to Charles V.]
[Sidenote: Henry of England "the king of fierce countenance" described
by Daniel.]
Pole's book was published in November or December. His expedition into
Spain followed immediately after; and, feeling some little misgiving as
to the Emperor's approbation of his conduct, he thought it prudent to
prepare his appearance by a general defence of his position. A
rebellious subject engaged in levying war against his sovereign might
interest the Papacy; but the example might easily appear more
questionable in the eyes of secular princes. His book, he said in an
apology addressed to Charles, had been written originally in obedience
to orders from England. He had published it when the Pope instructed him
to vindicate the severity of the censures. His present duty was to
expose in the European courts the iniquity of the King of England,--to
show that, as an adversary of the Church, he was infinitely more
formidable than the Sultan,--and that the arms of the Emperor, if he
wished well to the interests of religion, should be specially directed
against the chief offender.[379] When the king's crimes were understood
in detail, the Christian sovereigns would see in their enormity that
such a monster must be allowed to vex the earth no longer. He
recapitulated the heads of his book, and Henry's history as he there had
treated it. In an invective against Cromwell he bathed his name in
curses;[380] while the king he compared to Nero, and found the Roman
tyrant innocent in the contrast. Finally, he closed his address with a
peroration, in which he quoted and applied the prophecy of Daniel on the
man of sin. Henry of England was the king of fierce countenance and
understanding dark sentences, who was to stand up in the latter time and
set himself above all that was called God; whose power should be mighty,
but not by his own power; who should destroy wonderfully, and prosper,
and practise, and destroy the mighty and the holy people; who should
rise up against the Prince of princes, but in the end be broken without
hand.[381]
[Sidenote: The Pope writes to the Emperor,]
[Sidenote: Entreating him to attack England.]
Pole's business was to supply the eloquent persuasions. A despatch from
Paul furnished the more worldly particulars which the Emperor would
desire to know before engaging in an enterprise which had been discussed
so often, and which did not appear more easy on closer inspection. James
the Fifth, the Pope said, would be ready to assist, with his excellent
minister, David Beton. If only the war with the Turks were suspended,
the other difficulties might be readily overcome. The Turks could be
defeated only at a great expense, and a victory over them would do
little for religion. The heart of all the mischief in the world lay in
England, in the person of the king. Charles must strike there, and minor
evils would afterwards heal of themselves.[382]
[Sidenote: English agents in Rome.]
[Sidenote: Intercepted letter to the Cardinal of Seville.]
[Sidenote: The Earl of Desmond makes offers to the Pope to raise
Ireland.]
[Sidenote: Desmond will govern as the Pope's viceroy.]
The English government had agents in Rome whose business was to overhear
conversations, though held in the most secret closet in the Vatican; to
bribe secretaries to make copies of private despatches; to practise
(such was the word) for intelligence by fair means, or else by foul: and
they did their work. Pole's movements and Pole's intentions were known
in London as soon as they were known at Toledo; and simultaneously
another fragment of information was forwarded from Italy, as important
in itself, as, doubtless, the manner in which it was procured was
questionable. Access was obtained, either by bribery or other form of
treachery, to a letter from some person high in Paul's confidence at
Rome, to the Cardinal of Seville; opportunity, perhaps, did not permit
the completion of a transcript, but an analysis, with considerable
extracts, found its way into the hands of Cromwell. The letter stated
that an Irish nobleman, evidently the Earl of Desmond, had sent a
confidential agent to the Pope to explain at length the weakness of the
English authority in Ireland, to describe the impunity with which the
earl had resisted and despised it, and to state further how the same
illustrious personage, for the discharge of his soul, was now ready to
transfer his allegiance to his Holiness. "England," so Desmond had
declared, was in confusion, utter and hopeless. "Fathers were against
sons, husbands against wives, the commonalty risen one against another;"
... and "perceiving their divisions, he had been with a great part of
Ireland to know their wills and minds, and also with the bishops and the
religious houses; and not only the great men of power, but also the
people, all with one voice would be ready to give aid against the King
of England." He had added a demand which bore some witness to the energy
with which Henry had strengthened the government at Dublin since the
Geraldine rebellion. "Thirty thousand Spaniards," the earl said, "with
all things necessary for them, with artillery, powder, ships, galleys,
and pinnaces, would be required to insure the conquest." If these could
be landed, Desmond would guarantee success. Ireland should be reannexed
to the Holy See; and he would himself undertake the government as
viceroy, paying a revenue to Paul of one hundred thousand ducats. The
expedition would be costly, but the expenses would fall neither on his
Holiness nor on the Emperor. Desmond, with armed privateers, would seize
and deliver into the hands of the Pope the persons of a sufficient
number of the heretical English, whose ransoms would defray the
necessary outlay; and an insurrection in behalf of the Holy See might be
anticipated with certainty in England itself.
[Sidenote: His Holiness approves of the proposition.]
This being the substance of the Irish message, "His Holiness,
perceiving the good mind of these gentlemen in God's behalf, had
determined to desire amongst all Christian kings to have aid in this
matter for charity, to aid the good Christian people of Ireland."
[Sidenote: Ways and means to provide money. The Pope will issue
pardons.]
[Sidenote: The antichrist of England and the dog Luther his brother.]