PART II

I. THE RUNIC CROSSES OF NORTHUMBRIA

II. A MISSING PAGE FROM THE "IDYLLS OF THE KING"

III. FOXES BOOK OF ERRORS

IV. THE SPOILS OF THE MONASTERIES

V. THE ROYAL LIBRARY

VI. THE HARLEIAN COLLECTION OF MANUSCRIPTS

STUDIES FROM COURT AND CLOISTER

I. MARGARET TUDOR

Notwithstanding the spy-system which was brought to so great a

perfection under the Tudors, the study of human nature was in their

days yet in its infancy. The world had long ceased to be ingenuous, but

nations had not yet learned civilised methods of guarding themselves

against their enemies. At a time when distrust was general, it was

easier, like Machiavelli, to erect deceit and fraud into a science, and

to teach the vile utility of lying, than to scrutinise character and

weigh motives. It was then generally understood that opponents might

legitimately be hoodwinked to the limits of their gullibility; but it

was reserved for Lord Chesterfield, two centuries later, to show how a

man's passions must be studied with microscopic intensity in order to

discover his prevailing passion, and how, that passion once discovered,

he should never be trusted where it was concerned. The study of men's

characters and motives as we understand it, formed no part of the

policy of sixteenth-century statecraft, or Wolsey would not have been

disgraced, or Thomas Cromwell's head have fallen on the block. Wolsey

and Cromwell were the subtlest statesmen of their age; indeed, in them

statecraft may be said to have had its dawn; yet Henry VIII., by the

sheer force of his tyranny and despotic will, baffled them both. While

Cromwell, the greatest genius in Europe, thought he held all the

threads of intrigue in his own hands, his royal master by the dogged

pursuit of one end overthrew the minister's entire scheme. Saturated

though he was with Machiavellian theories, a man of one book, and that

book The Prince, Cromwell lost all by his inability to read the bent of

Henry's mind and purpose.

Henry VIII. and his elder sister, Margaret, were strikingly alike in

character. Both proved themselves to be cruel, vindictive,

unscrupulous, sensual, and vain. Both were extraordinarily clever, but

Henry being far better educated than his sister, contrived to cut a

much more imposing, if not a more dignified, figure. In the matter of

intrigue, there was nothing to choose between them. That Henry

succeeded where Margaret failed, was owing to the fact that

circumstances were in his favour and not in hers. Given two such

characters, the only parts that were possible to them were dominating

ones. Henry was master of the situation all through the piece; Margaret

was not, but she could play no other part. Had she been differently

constituted, had she been barely honest, true, constant, and pure,

there is no limit to the love and loyalty she would certainly have

inspired.

But, for want of insight into Margaret Tudor's disposition, the

Scottish people were repeatedly betrayed by one whose interests they

fondly hoped had become, by marriage with their king, identical with

their own. She had come among them at an age when new impressions are

quickly taken and experiences of every kind have necessarily been very

limited, but to the end of her days she remained an alien in their

midst.

From the moment that she set foot in Scotland, as a bride of thirteen,

she began to sow discord; but although it was soon apparent that she

would seize every occasion to turn public events to her own profit,

James IV. had so mistaken a belief in her one day becoming a good

Scotswoman, that when he went to his death on Flodden Field, he left

the whole welfare of his country in her hands. Not only did he confide

the treasure of the realm to her custody, but by his will he appointed

her to the Regency, with the sole guardianship of his infant son.

Such a thing was unprecedented in Scotland, and it needed all the

fidelity of the Scottish lords to their chivalrous sovereign, as well

as their enthusiasm for his young and beautiful widow, to induce them

to tolerate an arrangement so distasteful to them all. Had Margaret

cared to fit herself for the duties that lay before her, her lot might

have been a brilliant one. Instead of the wretched wars which made a

perpetual wilderness of the Borders, keeping the nation in a constant

state of ferment, an advantageous treaty would have secured prosperity

to both England and Scotland, while the various disturbing factions,

which rendered Scotland so difficult to govern by main force, would

gradually have subsided under the gentle influence of a queen who

united all parties through the loyalty she inspired. Fierce and

rebellious as were so many of the elements which went to make up the

Scottish people at that time, Margaret had a far easier task than her

grand-daughter, Mary Stuart, for at least fanatical religious

differences did not enter into the difficulties she had to encounter.

But such a queen of Scotland as would have claimed the respect and won

the lasting love of her subjects was by no means the Margaret Tudor of

history, as she stands revealed in her correspondence.

While James IV. lived she had comparatively few opportunities of

betraying State secrets, but from the disaster of Flodden to her death,

her history is one long series of intrigues, the outcome of her ruling

passions--vanity and greed. Her first short-sighted act of treachery

after the death of James was to appropriate to her own use the treasure

which he had entrusted to her for his successors, the queen thereby

incurring life-long retribution in her ineffectual attempts to wring

her jointure from an exchequer which she had herself wantonly

impoverished. Hence the tiresome and ridiculous wrangling in connection

with her "conjunct feoffment," neither Margaret nor Henry being

conscious, in the complete absence of all sense of humour on their

part, that the situation was occasionally grotesque. Stolidly unmindful

of the effect they produced on the minds of others in the pursuit of

their own selfish ends, they pursued the tenor of their way with

bucolic doggedness. The doggedness ended in the defeat of all Henry's

enemies; in Margaret's case it ended in her own.

The eleven months which elapsed between the 9th September 1513 to the

4th August 1514, were the most eventful of her whole life. The

catastrophe of Flodden left her, perhaps not without cause, the least

mournful woman in Scotland, for James IV., with all the heroism that

attaches to his name, had little claim to be called a faithful husband.

Unhindered, therefore, by any excess of grief, she was the better able

to attend to the affairs of State, and to hasten the coronation of her

little son, a baby of one year and five months. In December she

convened the Parliament of Scotland to meet at Stirling Castle, and

formally took up the dignity of regent with the consent of the

assembled nobility of the realm. At this sitting the greatest unanimity

prevailed. In the Acts of the Privy Council of Scotland, under date

12th January 1514, occurs the following entry: "To advise of the

setting up of the Queen's household, and what persons and officers are

necessary thereto, and to advise of the expenses for the supportation

of the same, and by what ways it shall be gotten." All was peace for a

short time, and the most friendly relations existed between the queen

and her Council, till the first high-handed attempt of Henry VIII. to

interfere through his sister in the government of Scotland, resulted in

her temporary banishment, and the removal of the infant king from his

mother's care.*

* P. Martyr, Ep. 535. For a detailed account of the state of Scotland

for the first nine years after the disastrous defeat at Flodden, see

vol. xiv. Of the Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, edited by George Burnett,

LL.D., Lyon King-of-Arms, and A. Y. G. Mackay, M.A. (Oxon.), LL.D.

(Edin.), etc., His Majesty's General Register House, Edinburgh.

On the 30th April Margaret gave birth to a posthumous son, who received

the title of Duke of Rothesay; and scarcely had she reappeared in

public after the birth of this child, when an envoy from the Emperor

Maximilian brought overtures of marriage. About the same time, she

received a like proposal from Louis XII. of France, who afterwards

married her younger sister Mary. Dismissing both aspirants to her hand,

before the first year of her widowhood had run its course, she married

Archibald, Earl of Angus, Margaret being in her twenty-fifth, he in his

nineteenth year. The union was equally unfortunate for the queen

herself and for her wretched husband, who, when the first charm of

novelty had passed, was disdainfully flung aside, and never restored to

favour.

There was an ancient custom of the realm, which placed the executive

power and the person of the king, should he be a minor at the death of

the preceding sovereign, in the hands of the next male heir, and the

appointment of James's widow to the regency and the guardianship of his

son was made in distinct disregard of all recognised precedent. The

consent of the Scottish lords to the innovation had been given entirely

from a sense of loyalty to their beloved and unfortunate monarch James

IV. But a proviso had been made in his will, that in the event of the

queen's remarriage, the regency, as well as the guardianship of the

king, should pass to John, Duke of Albany, the next heir to the throne.

But Margaret, who had not scrupled to make away with the royal

treasure, was scarcely likely to be very conscientious in regard to the

duty of laying down a sceptre, the pleasantness of which she had only

just begun to taste. She was already at variance with her Council, who,

in despair of any order being established, had invited Albany, then in

France, to come over and take up the reins of government. As early as

April 1514, a Bill for his recall had been read in Parliament, and it

was formally enacted that all the fortresses in Scotland should be

given up, a blow aimed primarily at Stirling, the queen's chief

stronghold.* Here she and Angus had shut themselves up, on hearing that

Beaton, Archbishop of Glasgow, was marching on Edinburgh. They were

captured, but escaped and returned to Stirling, where they were

besieged by John Hepburn, Prior of St. Andrews.

* Brewer--Preface to Cal. 2, part i. (note).

Margaret, assuming a tone of injured innocence, wrote to Henry VIII.,

telling him that she and her party are in great trouble till they know

what help he will give them; that her enemies continue to usurp the

king's authority in Parliament, holding her and her friends to be

rebels; and she entreats him to hasten his army against Scotland by sea

and by land.* This was clearly as much an act of treason as if she had

deliberately invited any other foreign enemy to come and take

possession of the realm; for although her object was merely to regain

the powers she had lost by her own acts, she could estimate the ruin

which would have resulted to Scotland, if Henry had really been in a

position to invade the country. His answer to her appeal was to send

the most urgent instructions to his sister to prevent Albany's landing

by every means at her disposal. In the meanwhile she waited

impatiently, but in vain, for both troops and money from Henry, who did

not think it necessary to inform her that the French king had agreed to

detain Albany in France, on condition that his dear cousin should send

his sister no help, but leave the various parties in Scotland to fight

out their quarrels alone.

* Queen Margaret to Henry VI II., 23rd November 1514; MS. Cott., Calig.

B 1, 164; Brit. Mus.

As a result of this policy, Margaret at last began to find her position

intolerable, and she, no less than her enemies looked forward to the

duke's arrival as a means of extricating herself from a labyrinth of

difficulties. This was perhaps what Francis I. had foreseen;

notwithstanding his promise to Henry, he had no intention of

permanently preventing Albany, who was more than half a Frenchman, from

assuming a dignity that would result in a strong bond of union between

Scotland and France. Albany was therefore quietly allowed to escape at

a given moment; and when, after running the gauntlet of Henry's ships,

which were watching for him, he landed in Scotland, Margaret resolved,

for once wisely, to be friends with him.*

* Seb. Giustinian to the Doge, London, 5th August 1515; Venetian

Archives.

But Henry instructed Lord Dacre, the formidable chief of the Marches,

to stir up all the strife possible between his sister, the new regent,

and the Scottish lords, and accordingly, whenever there was a sign of a

better understanding between the three parties, Dacre was always

careful to insinuate to the queen that her brother was her best friend.

Finding that Albany had escaped the vigilance of his fleet, Henry wrote

a high-handed letter to the Scottish Council requesting that he might

be sent back to France forthwith. Their reply was as dignified as

Albany's own conduct throughout, and in strong contrast to Margaret's

attitude. They have, they say, received Henry's letter, dated 1st July

1516, desiring them to remove John, Duke of Albany, the regent from the

person of their king, in order to promote the amity of the two realms.

The duke was chosen Protector by the unanimous voice of the Three

Estates, and was sent for by them from France; he left his master, his

lady, his living; he has taken great pains in the king's service; he

has given, and proposes to give, no cause for dissatisfaction, and if

he would leave, they would not let him. Moreover, it is in exact

conformity with their laws that the nearest in succession should have

the governance; security has been taken by the queen and others to

remove all cause of suspicion, and they will spend their lives if any

attempt be made against his Highness.* This document was signed and

sealed by twenty-eight spiritual and temporal lords, whose names are

still legible. Ten other names are mutilated beyond recognition,

although their seals remain.

* Scottish lords to Henry VIII., 4th July 1516; Record Office.

Albany had meanwhile written to Lord Dacre, denying that he had usurped

the king's authority, and declaring that he had done nothing but by

order of the Estates of the realm. But Henry was bent on picking a

quarrel with him, and Dacre's letter to the King of England's Council

shows the part which Dacre was instructed to play in the troubles of

Scotland, fomenting feuds between Albany and every member of his

government, in the hope of driving him out of the country.* Difficult,

however, as Henry's policy made it, the regent was bent on maintaining

peace, and would probably have succeeded but for Margaret.**

* Cotton MS., Calig. B 2, 341; Brit. Mus.

** Albany to Dacre,10th August 1515; R.O.

The good understanding between the regent and the queen was first

broken by his summons to her to deliver up the royal children into his

custody, a cruel but necessary proceeding, since the regency was

inseparable from the governorship of the king and the next heir.

A true and tender chord is struck at last, when Margaret, appealing to

Henry, exclaims, "God send I were such a woman as might go with my

bairns in mine arms. I trow I should not be long fra you!" Nor is it

possible to feel aught but sympathy for her, when she allows herself to

be stormed in Stirling Castle before she suffers her children to be

torn from her. Dacre professed to believe, and perhaps caused Margaret

to fear, that they would be destroyed if they fell into the Duke of

Albany's power. But the very day on which Dacre wrote to Henry's

Council, advising that money should be sent to enable her to hold out,

the regent prepared to bombard her, and it was not till her friends had

forsaken her, flying for their lives and in terror of Albany's

proclamation, that placing the keys of the fortress in her little son's

hands, she desired him to give them to the regent, and to beg him to

show favour to himself, to his brother, and to her husband. The regent

answered that he would be good to the king, to his brother, and to

their mother; but that as for Angus, he "would not dalye with no

traitor." *

* Cotton MS. Calig. B 2, 369; B.M.

No sooner had Margaret given up her children, than she began to

manoeuvre how to steal them back and spirit them over the Border. While

pretending to be too ill to leave her palace at Linlithgow, where she

gave out she had "taken to her chamber" in anticipation of her

approaching confinement, she effected her escape into England, but her

plan for capturing the king and his brother failed. Nothing could now

exceed her desolate condition, as, wandering from place to place,

alone, ill, and worse than friendless, she sought in vain a refuge in

all that wild Border region where she might await her hour of peril.

Angus, seeing the turn affairs had taken, had thought it prudent to

abandon her to her fate, and, after helping her to escape, returned to

Scotland in the hope of coming to terms with Albany. His wife was at

last thankful to accept Lord Dacre's rough hospitality in his gloomy

castle of Harbottle. Here in the midst of a brutal soldiery, with no

woman to render her the most needful service, she gave birth to a

daughter, the Lady Margaret Douglas, on the 5th October 1515. On the

10th she wrote to Albany to announce her delivery "of a cristen sowle

beying a young lady," and miserably ill though she was, did not omit to

demand "as tutrix of the young king and prince, her tender children, to

have the whole rule and governance of Scotland."

To this letter Margaret received an answer written by the Council,

stating that the governance of the realm had expired with the death of

her husband, and had devolved to the Estates; that with her consent

they had appointed the Duke of Albany; that she had forfeited the

tutelage of her children by her second marriage, and that in all

temporal matters the realm of Scotland had been immediately subject to

Almighty God, not recognising the Pope or any superior upon earth.

Herewith the queen was forced to content herself; further words would

have proved as unavailing as reeds against the tempest, and even words

were soon beyond her power to write, for the birth of her daughter was

succeeded by a long and painful illness which nearly proved fatal to

the unhappy woman. To add to the bitterness of her trials, at the

moment when she was beginning slowly to recover, came the news of the

illness and death of the little Duke of Rothesay. Grief, anger, and

anxiety for the safety of the king served naturally to increase the

gravity of her condition, and for months she lay hovering between life

and death, loudly accusing Albany of having murdered her child.

This accusation was reiterated to Albany himself as soon as her

unsteady hand could grasp a pen; but the regent took no heed of her

stinging words, continued to invite her to return to Scotland, in spite

of her persistent refusal, and apparently succeeded at last in

convincing her of his innocence.

On her recovery she wrote to him from Morpeth, to announce her

departure for the south, Henry having invited her to his court,

accompanying his invitation with presents of costly stuffs, and money,

and clothing for the baby.

A letter from Margaret to the regent at this moment is significant of a

sudden change in her demeanour towards him, and to judge by her

subsequent behaviour, the change meant treachery. Instead of the fierce

denunciations she had lately indulged in, she acknowledged that she had

often received goodly and pleasant words as well as letters from him,

and "though his conduct has not always corresponded to them, yet as

matters are being accommodated" she hopes he will reform it. The

meaning of this change of tactics became clear to all but the regent

himself---who seems to have been of a singularly unsuspicious

nature--as soon as Margaret reached London.

Albany was still hoping for a permanent peace with Henry, and more than

once expressed a wish to pay him a friendly visit. This both Henry and

Margaret encouraged him to do, and writing to Wolsey about this time,

the Scottish queen expressed the most fervent hope that the regent

would come, counterbalanced by the fears that he would not.* Had the

matter rested entirely with himself, the visit would certainly have

taken place, but his Council having some reason to doubt Henry's fair

and plausible words, were urgent in dissuading him. All things

considered, it is probable that the duke would have repented of his

temerity if he had placed his head within the lion's jaws.

* Cotton MS., Vesp. F 3, 36; B.M.

Having failed to inveigle the regent into their power, the brother and

sister instructed Dacre to "sow debate" between him and his Council,

but this scheme failed also. Dacre wrote, however, to show that he was

not wanting in zeal in this behalf, saying that, being unable to

interfere with Scottish affairs in any other way, he had given rewards

to four hundred outlaws for burnings in various parts of the kingdom.*

No means proved too vile, no instrument unworthy, to be employed in the

work of destroying the regent and advancing Tudor interests. The queen

even condescended to use her truant husband, and the part played by

Angus is scarcely less reprehensible than Margaret's own, for while he

pretended to be loyal to Albany and to Scotland, he possessed himself

of every important State secret and transmitted it to his wife, in the

hope of appeasing her for his desertion. She, of course, passed on all

that she thus learned to Henry and Wolsey.

* Dacre to Wolsey; Calig. B 1, 150; B.M.

Margaret was entertained for a whole year in pomp and splendour at the

English court, feasts and revels succeeding each other in bewildering

magnificence-- luxury in vivid contrast to the misery which she had

undergone during the first months after her flight from Scotland.

Pageants, tournaments, and banquets now took the place of privation and

suffering; all that met the eye was changed, but the dark and

treacherous under-currents known to but few of her contemporaries

remained the same, and were the realities that shaped her course. In

spite, however, of plots and intrigues, Margaret's position was not

improving. Her visit to England could not be prolonged indefinitely,

and as the queen was evidently not to return to Scotland in triumph, it

was desirable to make as good terms for herself as she possibly could.

The regent promised that her jointure should be paid, and that Angus

should be allowed to join her if he were willing to do so--a somewhat

doubtful alternative, as he had not availed himself of the leave that

had already been given him. As for Albany himself, he declared that it

had always been his desire to gratify the queen, and to advise the best

for her and for her son.* Reluctantly, therefore, she at last prepared

to turn her face northwards, having obtained permission to take with

her a suite befitting her station, safe-conduct being granted, except

in the case of any person among them plotting harm to the kingdom; and

to these conditions Henry set his great seal.

* Calig. B 2, 262; B.M.

A letter from the Venetian envoy to the Doge, dated 13th April 1517,

says: "The truce between England and Scotland has been arranged. The

queen is to return, but is not to be admitted to the administration of

the kingdom. She may take with her twenty-four Englishmen, and as many

Scotch as she pleases, provided they be not rebels"; and he adds that

he has been assured of these facts by Albany's secretary.

All was done to make her journey as easy as possible; but when Margaret

arrived at Berwick, it needed all Dacre's powers of persuasion to

induce her to enter Scotland. At Lamberton Kirk, contrary to the

regent's expectation, she was met by Angus, accompanied by Morton and

others of the Scottish nobility, with three hundred men, chiefly

Borderers. Albany had left for France, taking with him as hostages the

heirs or younger brothers of the principal men in the country, whom he

had bound over to keep the peace during his absence, which he then did

not intend to prolong beyond five months.

There was now an excellent opportunity for beginning a new and better

life, had the queen been so minded; but events proved her to be in a

more querulous, treacherous, and discontented mood than ever. "Her

Grace considereth now, the honour of England, and the poverty and

wretchedness of Scotland," wrote Magnus to Wolsey, "which she did not

afore, but in her opinion esteemed Scotland equal with England,"* and

her complaints to Henry were frequent and loud.

* June 19, 1517; Calig. B 2, 253; B.M.

She complained of her husband, of her poverty, of the bad faith of the

Scottish nation who still left her jointure unpaid, of not being

allowed free access to her son. She had, she said, been obliged to lay

in wed (pawn) the plate given to her by Henry, and was likely to be

driven to extreme want, as Wolsey would learn by her messenger. She

would have been still worse off, she caused her friends to write, had

not Magnus and Dacre drawn up a book at Berwick, the day before her

entry into Scotland, by which Angus, signing it, renounced all claim to

her "conjunct feoffment."*

* Dacre to Wolsey, Harbottle, 5th March, 1518; R.O.

But Margaret did not stop at complaints; Henry must begin the war

again. He may, she declares, reasonably cause Scottish ships to be

taken; for she has suffered long and forborne to do evil, although she

knew she would never get good from Scotland by fair means.

When by dint of constant urging to renewed contests the Borders had

become one vast battlefield in her quarrel, she wrote to the Marquis of

Dorset to beg him to spare the convent of Coldstream, whose abbess had

done her good service in times past.* The motive for this intercession

was no mere charitable one, the abbess being "one of the best spies for

England."

* Thomas, Marquis of Dorset, to Henry VIII.; Calig. B 3, 255.

And now, for the first time, Margaret ventures to express the wish that

has for long been forming itself in her mind. She has been much

troubled by Angus since her coming to Scotland, and is so more and more

daily. They have not met this half year, and--after some hovering of

the word on her lips, she pronounces it boldly--she will part with him,

if she may by God's law, and with honour to herself, for he loves her

not. Unlike Henry, when seeking a pretext to divorce his first wife,

Margaret was at no pains to disguise the motive which inspired her, and

a possibility of a flaw in the marriage is openly but a pretext for

getting rid of a husband of whom she was weary. We are at least spared

the nausea caused by Henry's conscientious scruples. She first puts

forward frankly her wish to be free from Angus, and then her

determination to divorce him if she may lawfully. But it was the only

piece of honesty in the whole business, for the suit itself was one

long, dreary series of misrepresentation and falsehood, without which

her cause could by no possibility have been gained.

The usual plea of pre-contracts was brought forward, but as these were

of too flimsy a nature to bear investigation, Margaret declared that

the late King of Scots, her husband, was still living three years after

the battle of Flodden, and that consequently he was alive when she was

married to the Earl of Angus.* As the king's body had never been found,

this assertion could not be disproved, though there was no reasonable

doubt as to James having fallen on that calamitous day.

* Magnus to Wolsey; State Papers, vol. iv., p. 385; R.O.

However, in spite of her bold swearing, Margaret was not so certain of

success, but that she was anxious for Henry's support, and she not only

entreated her brother to befriend her, but promised him that she would

consult only his wishes in taking another husband, and that this time

she would not part from him.* If she thought that a fellow-feeling

would make him wondrous kind in this matter, she was disappointed. It

was no part of Henry's policy that his sister should put Angus away,

for although she had not consulted him in the choice of her second

husband, Henry was very well satisfied with him. He could to a certain

extent control him, and at all events, while married to him the queen

could not contribute by any foreign alliance to the power and greatness

of Scotland.

* Calig. B 1, 232; B.M.

But Angus was making himself obnoxious to his wife beyond her very

limited capacity for endurance. Not only had he proved a faithless

husband, but what was infinitely worse to her mind, he refused to give

up the income of her Ettrick Forest estate, which she had made over to

him in the days when his handsome face and figure had first struck her

fancy, and when she thought nothing too costly to lavish upon him. She

had made him great, to her own and the country's misfortune, and it was

a difficult matter to make him small again; but all Scotland felt the

evil effects of his power, of his ascendancy over the young king, and

of the feuds which resulted therefrom. So great was the scourge felt to

be, that the Council appealed to Margaret to recall the Regent Albany,

that he might restore order.

Margaret was aware that Albany's return was the thing of all others

that Henry wished to avoid, but it suited her for the nonce to act the

part of a good Scotswoman, and she wrote an imploring letter to the

duke, begging him to come back and take pity on his unhappy country.*

Notwithstanding this, her complaints to Henry through Lord Dacre of her

bad treatment, and her supplications to be allowed to return to

England, did not cease. She had "liever be dead than live among the

Scots," and she entreats that no peace may be renewed, unless "some

good may be taken," that she may live at ease.**

* Calig. B 1, 232.

** Ibid. B 2, 195.

Wolsey was not sparing in his remarks on the queen's double-dealing,

the facts of which had all been disclosed to him by spies. He has, he

says, represented to the king her brother "the folly of Queen Margaret

in leaning to her enemies, and departing from her husband,"

notwithstanding what Dacre has already written to her. Dacre, by the

king's desire, is to tell her that if she persists in her dishonourable

course she can expect no favour.*

* Ibid. B 3, 106

Meanwhile the Earl of Surrey had been dispatched with an army to the

Borders, and threatened to invade Scotland, unless the Duke of Albany

were abandoned, and Margaret reinstated as regent. On the 16th

September 1523, he wrote two letters to the queen, one intended for her

eyes alone, the other to be shown to her son's Council. In the first he

says that the King of England would approve of her son's "coming

forth," and shaking off all tutelage but his mother's, for Surrey is

about to waste Scotland, and the young king's plea for emancipating

himself should be that he cannot suffer his realm to be laid waste.

Margaret is to summon the lords to take up arms in her son's defence,

and she will then be in a position to command Surrey to retire. She

will thus form a party for her son, and be enabled to send Albany and

his Frenchmen back to France. Then Surrey will turn his arms against

her enemies.

If Margaret keeps her promise, money will be forthcoming. In the event

of her causing James V, to "come forth" to Edinburgh, he has no doubt

that if the king will command his subjects on their allegiance to take

his part, the most of them will do so, especially the Commons, who must

be roused to drive the French to Dunbar. The Earl of Surrey will be

ready to give assistance.*

* Calig. B 4, 196.

The second letter was to the same effect, though more cautiously

worded. The King of England would be glad to hear of his nephew's

prosperous estate, but would certainly be dissatisfied that his nobles

suffered their monarch and themselves to be kept in subjection by

Albany. Surrey was ready to help with men and money all who would come

forward to protect their natural sovereign; but peace could never be

between the two realms, if the Scots did not give up the duke. As for

Margaret's hope that Henry would be a better friend to Scotland on her

account, Surrey had been ordered to desist from doing any more hurt at

her request. He had now waited along time, he wrote, hoping that the

Scottish lords would have shown themselves more natural loving subjects

than they now appeared, seeing that the day appointed for the Duke of

Albany's arrival had passed, and that their king was in no greater

safety than he was before. All the world would see that the fault was

not Henry's, but that of the Scots, who refused to put HIM out of the

realm who meant to destroy the king and usurp the crown. Henry would

never refrain from making war upon Scotland until they forsook. Albany,

and sued to him for peace. On their doing this, Surrey had full

authority to treat with them, and to assist them with money and troops.*

* State Papers, iv. 21--"Copy of my letter to be showed to the lords of

Scotland; in Surrey's hand"; R.O.

This advice produced no effect whatever on the Scottish lords, whose

loyalty to the regent remained unshaken. But Margaret did not consider

herself hampered by any pledges given to Albany, and two days after the

receipt of the letters, she urged Surrey to come to Edinburgh, or

somewhere near it, at once, declaring that the lords would certainly do

as she desired. As for the threatened laying waste, however, "they

laughed at injuries done only to the poor people." A thousand men with

artillery would have Edinburgh at their mercy if they came suddenly.

Surrey must go at it at once, or let it be. Failing this, she desired

leave to come to England with her true servants, adding, "for I will

come away and I should steal out of it."*

* Ibid. 26.

The truth was, that, far from being certain that the lords would agree

to any part of the scheme, Margaret knew well that she had but a

handful of friends in Scotland, and that her sole hope of regaining the

regency lay in Henry's power of coercion. Trusting that Surrey would

really march on Edinburgh, she did all she could to persuade the

Council to allow the young king to be brought to that place, and to

appoint new guardians, friendly to her interests. In both these

endeavours she failed, and James remained at Stirling.

"The lords are all fallen away from the queen, and adhere to the

governor," wrote the Abbess of Coldstream to Sir John Bulmer, and

Surrey passed on the information to Wolsey, telling him that Margaret

had no credit with the Scotch, and that they looked hourly for Albany's

arrival.

As for Lord Surrey, even if he had been willing to besiege Edinburgh,

he would have been frustrated by the want of sufficient means of

transport for his victuals. Had he not caused his soldiers to carry

their food in wallets, and their drink in bottles, it would not have

been possible for him to have reached the North, and a raid into the

enemy's country necessitated a far ampler stock of provisions than

could be carried in this way. The queen's desire that he should take

Edinburgh, arose, he thought, from her anxiety to provide herself with

a way of escape from her difficulties.*

* Surrey to Wolsey, Berwick, 21st Sept. 1523; R.O.

In England it was commonly believed that the Scottish lords were in so

great a fear of Albany, who was hourly expected to arrive, that they

would break their covenant with him even though they had each given him

four of the best of their sons as hostages. But Surrey declared

vehemently that although they might deceive Margaret, they should not

deceive him.

The suspense was ended at last, and Margaret wrote to inform him of the

regent's arrival. Surrey replied at once, desiring to know further what

number of horse and foot soldiers had come with him, and what

countrymen they were. He could give her no advice about coming away,

but would meet her in any given part of the Marches, and at whatever

time she pleased. Margaret in return was to let him know when the Duke

of Albany intended to invade England. In conclusion, hoping to prevent

any rapprochement between her and the regent, he warned her that Albany

would most certainly be king if the king were not well guarded, "for

the Frenchmen can empoison one, and yet he shall not die for a year

after."*

* Surrey's Letterbook; Tanner MS. 90, f. 47; Bodleian Library.

The slippery nature of Margaret's friendship was well known to Surrey,

and he kept up the fiction of Albany's nefarious intentions, in the

hope of making her faithful to English interests. Unluckily for his

schemes, he did not sufficiently study the springs of her actions,

which would have taught him to be more lavish with his bribes. The end

of her next letter ought to have opened his eyes to the necessity of

striking a bargain with her if he would hope to draw her into the

English net. After telling him that the duke has held a council at

Glasgow, and that he means to march into England in a fortnight, she

goes on to warn him that Scotland was never before made so strong, and

says that it is still a secret whether Albany intends to attack the

east or west Border, but she thinks both. She gives him a detailed

account of the numbers and condition of his soldiers, and estimates his

French contingent at 6000 men, adding that German reinforcements are

expected by the first fair wind. They trust to win Berwick, and if they

succeed, she and her son are undone. Then she begs to know how she is

to get away, and have some money. If Henry will not help her, she must

perforce ask help of Albany; and she declares significantly, "and he

will cause me to do as he will, or else he will give me nothing." He

has not yet come to her, but he writes "very good writings of his own

hand, and as many fair words as can be devised," to which however she

professes to give no credence.*

*Calig. B 6, 379; State Papers, iv. 40.

Surrey was of the opinion that Margaret should remain in Scotland, as

her coming to England would cause embarrassment and expense. Two

thousand marks would hardly satisfy her in England, whereas she would

be content with three or four hundred pounds a year in Scotland, to say

nothing of the loss Henry would incur if she came away, in being

deprived of the information she sent.

But it was just this haggling over bribes that prevented Margaret from

being altogether on Henry's side, and threw her into the arms of the

more generous Albany whenever there was the least hope of gain. Thus, a

month later, after the somewhat hasty retreat from Wark, she told

Surrey that she had been obliged to take what money the duke would give

her; that she would do her best to keep her son, but that she could not

displease Albany without Henry's support. She implored Surrey to plead

with the king for her, and in return for his help she would inform him

of all she knew; but he must keep it secret.*

* Calig. B 1, 281.

At the same time, she gave the duke to understand that she had incurred

her brother's displeasure for his sake,* and the same legend was

repeated to the lords of the Council. Complaining to them of the bad

treatment she had received in Scotland, she begged them to bear in mind

the loyalty she had always shown to her son, to the lord governor, and

to the realm, incurring for the last three or four years her brother's

displeasure, for Albany's sake, at whose desire she was always ready to

write the best she could.** Immediately upon this remarkable statement

came Henry's answer to her last appeal, in the guise of one hundred

marks for information received, together with the refusal of the truce

which Albany had repeatedly solicited.*** The smallness of the sum

prompted Margaret to write a diplomatic letter to the Earl of Surrey,

in which she declared that she had promised before the lords to be a

good Scotswoman, and to agree to whatever was for the good of her son,

with whom she was resolved to bide as long as she might, although the

lords were bent on separating them. They cannot, they say, help her to

her "conjunct feoffment" while her brother makes war on them, and she

knows not where any other help may be got. If she is to live with her

son, Henry must contribute to her support, as he has done to a certain

extent already. She will do as he commands her, and have as few

servants as possible. She had asked the governor and lords in Council

why she was "holden suspect," and not allowed to be with her son; and

the answer she received was that she was Henry's sister, and would

perhaps take the king into England, and they knew well her brother

would do more for her than any other. She had answered that her deeds

had shown otherwise, and that she could prove the malice of such an

accusation! THUS HENRY WOULD SEE HOW SHE SUFFERED FOR HIS SAKE.****

* Ibid. 159.

** Ibid. B 2, 268.

*** State Papers, iv. 60, 26th Nov. 1523; R.O.

**** Queen Margaret to the Earl of Surrey, Dec. 1523; R.O.

The next scene in the comedy is Margaret's anger on hearing that Albany

is treating with Henry for peace, without her intervention. "It is

hard," she complains, "to be out with the governor here, and not to

know what the king will do for me!" If she had flattered Albany, she

asserts, she might have had "great profits," but she will not take them

till she knows Henry's mind. She has not spoken with Albany since

Surrey left, and would not do so as long as he remained in Scotland, so

discontented were they with each other.* Upon this follows an

astounding revelation. Surrey had received a dispatch from the queen

containing another document, the seals of which had been broken and

closed again. It was a copy of an agreement between Margaret and the

Duke of Albany, but the manner in which it came to be enclosed in her

letter never transpired, though it was thought that the packet had been

opened by a spy, and the paper inserted, in order to ruin her prospects

with her brother.

* Calig. B 1, 209, 21st April 1524.

The enclosed document ran thus:--

The queen promises that during the minority of her son, she will never

suffer anything contrary to the duke's authority, and will inform him

of it, and hinder as much as she can any wrong intended against him;

she will not consent to a truce or peace with England without the

comprehension of her son's allies; she will assist to keep him

securely, according to the decree of the last Parliament; she will do

all she can to hinder any practice against him of which she may hear,

and will inform the governor of it if he be in the country, and if not,

those who have charge of the king; she will not consent to anything

contrary to the alliance with France, or to the treaty of Rouen, and

will further a marriage between her son and one of the daughters of the

King of France. The governor promises to do the like, and to obtain for

her an honourable reception by the King of France, if she incurs the

enmity of her brother, and is forced to quit the country in consequence

of the assistance he may give to Angus, or other evil-disposed persons

who may interfere with her goods and conjunct feoffment; he will if she

requests, send some of his servants with her, and will maintain her

against everyone except the king her son. Both parties swear to keep

these promises upon the Holy Gospels.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, ff. 231 and 234; B.M.

Wolsey, upon receipt of this information, at once addressed

instructions to Dacre, charging him to find out whether such an

agreement had really been made, and if so, how the copy of it had found

its way into the queen's letter.

Dacre therefore wrote to tell her of the discovery, and recapitulating

the contents of the enclosed document, added that the king desired to

know whether she had consented to it of her own free will, why it was

done, whether she herself sent the copy, or if not who did send it, and

with what intent.

Margaret replied by an indignant but weak denial. The instrument in

question was one, she averred, which the duke had DESIRED her to

execute, but which she had declined at all costs to meddle with.

This explanation was too improbable for Wolsey to accept, the whole

course of Margaret's actions tending to show that had Albany tried and

failed to draw her into such a compact, she would unhesitatingly have

disclosed the negotiation in order to make capital out of her refusal.

The opportunity for demanding large sums as a reward for her fidelity

to Henry's interests would have proved irresistible; while as a matter

of fact the transaction had never been so much as hinted at in any of

her letters. Vague allusions, to the effect that Albany was continually

outbidding Henry, had been her refrain for years; but whereas she sent

minute and circumstantial details of every other secret likely to

prejudice the country and the regent, she had been silent as to any

definite overtures such as those contained in the document referred to.

The alternative was to believe that, while pretending to be false, for

once she was true to Scotland; and yet she stands so deeply "rooted in

dishonour," that her acquittal puts but little to her credit. Her only

resource, when Dacre persisted in his accusation, was a feeble

complaint of the bad treatment she was receiving at her brother's

hands, pleading that he neither regarded herself nor her writing; that

she had not failed, and did not mean to fail, but that if others had

been in her place they would have acted very differently.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, f. 223, 19th May 1524; B.M.

To this Dacre replied ruthlessly, that it was well known both in

Scotland and in England, not only that she had assented to the bond

found in her letter, but that it had passed her sign manual and seal,

in return for which, the Duke of Albany had given her the wardship and

marriage of the young Earl of Huntly and of others, together with other

gifts and rewards---a proceeding which, declared Dacre, was a great

dishonour to her brother, and would perhaps after all avail her but

little. He marvelled also greatly at her pretended ignorance of the

negotiations pending between Albany and himself, because in his last

letter he had informed her of all the proceedings.*

* Ibid. 965, f. 244, 27th May 1524.

For some time, Margaret continued to deny feebly having formally allied

herself with the regent, murmuring at Dacre's "sharpness" towards her,

notwithstanding which Dacre continued to bring fresh proofs of her

duplicity before her, till Henry at last ordered him to let the matter

drop, whereupon she was willing to do the same.*

* Add. MS. 24, 965, f. 253; B.M.

Having failed in the past to secure Margaret's undivided favour, Henry

now took a more persuasive line, and sought to convince his sister how

much good might in future accrue to her if she would but "go the

fruitful way." The unfortunate Angus, who had taken refuge in England,

was now sent back, in the hope that a possible reconciliation with her

husband might detach her from Albany. But this was far from succeeding.

Margaret could with difficulty be induced to receive him, and all the

money that Henry sent to her went to strengthen the hands of her

husband's enemies, so that Angus was obliged to entreat that no further

supplies might be provided. Margaret then veered round, and said that

Albany had sent to her with great offers if she would join his party,

adding that perhaps the duke would marry her after getting her

divorced. How this could be possible, considering that Albany had a

wife already, might puzzle a mind more fettered by the logic of facts

than was the queen's.

That she was seriously anxious to be agreeable to the duke is seen by

the instructions which she delivered to John Cantely, who was to tell

the regent of her goodwill towards him and the kingdom of France. And

lest he should interpret unfavourably the circumstance of her having

sent ambassadors to England, she assured him that she would do nothing

without including France. Finally, she wished to know his intentions

towards her and what he would give her. In the event of her taking his

part against England, which she will certainly do if Henry continues to

help Angus, Albany must secure for her the protection of the French

king. If this king desires to have her and her son on his side, he must

support them.

But Albany must keep the matter secret, and not allow her letters to be

sent into England, as has been done formerly, and she will take his

part against everyone except her son.*

* Double de la credence de la Royne et memoire de Mr. John Cantely; R.O.

This was written on the 22nd February 1525, but on the 31st March

following, Margaret, in a stormy interview with Angus, angrily denied

having negotiated with Albany at all. She swore that she had always

sought to please Henry, and complained of his letters being "sore and

sharp." She had taken a great matter on hand at his request, and had

had much trouble with the duke for his sake, yet now that she had

plainly told the regent that she followed Henry's pleasure, Henry would

have no more to do with her. If he will not be kind to her, she hopes

at least that he will not cause Angus to trouble her in her living. She

has a plea against Angus before the Pope, and he cannot interfere with

her by law.*

* Calig. B 7, 3.

It was clearly to Henry's interest to persuade Margaret to take her

husband back, for Angus belonged with the whole Douglas family to

Albany's bitterest enemies. The reconciliation between him and the

regent had been but a short interlude brought about solely from

self-interest on the part of Angus, and followed by a deep and lasting

feud. Added to this claim on Henry's friendship was the fact that he

possessed a powerful influence over the young King James. But with the

page of Henry's own domestic history open before us, it is not possible

to repress a smile at the arguments against her divorce which Henry put

before Margaret, at the very moment when he was trying to force the

Pope's hand, in order to obtain from him a sentence against his own

marriage. The following substance of a letter, written it is true by

Wolsey, but dictated by his master, applies in every detail as well to

Henry's own case as to Margaret's. If we change the pronoun, substitute

London for Rome, king for queen, Katharine for Angus, all that he

causes Wolsey to say becomes as applicable to himself as to his sister.

After desiring her to accept favourably Henry's message, which, he

says, much concerns the wealth of her son and her own repute, the

cardinal urges her brother's hope that the "undeceivable spirit of God,

which moved him to send to her, will effectually work." Amid the cares

of his government he has never forgotten her, and he hopes she will

turn to God's word, "the vyvely doctrine of Jesus Christ, the only

ground of salvation" (1 Cor. 3). He reminds her of the divine ordinance

of inseparable matrimony, first instituted in Paradise, and hopes her

Grace will perceive how she was seduced by flatterers to an unlawful

divorce from "the right noble Earl of Angus," etc., upon untrue and

insufficient grounds. Furthermore, "the shameless sentence sent from

Rome" plainly showed how unlawfully it was handled, judgment being

given against a party neither present in person nor by proxy. He urges

her further, for the weal of her soul, and to avoid the inevitable

damnation threatened against "advoutrers," to reconcile herself with

Angus as her true husband, or out of mere natural affection for her

daughter, whose excellent beauty and pleasant behaviour, nothing less

godly than goodly, furnished with virtuous and womanly demeanour,

should soften her heart. That she should be reputed baseborn cannot be

avoided, except the queen will relinquish the "advoutrous" company with

him that is not, nor may not be, of right her husband.*

* Calig. B 6, 194.

The individual here mentioned was Harry Stuart, with whom Margaret had

contracted a secret marriage, having by dint of perjury and a tissue of

lies, obtained a declaration of invalidity against her union with

Angus. She does not appear to have been in the least affected by

Henry's hypocritical reasoning, but the manner in which her son

received the news of her third marriage caused her some inconvenience.

In his displeasure, James sent Lord Erskine to besiege his mother and

her new husband in Stirling Castle; but what promised to be a tragedy

had a somewhat ridiculous end, for Margaret, in terror of what might

follow, at once gave up her husband, who after a short imprisonment was

allowed to escape. He promptly rejoined the queen, and James

subsequently forgave him, and created him Lord Methven.

But not even when her son had come to his own did Margaret cease to

plot and intrigue. Henry's suspicious character imperatively demanded

that all that was going on in Scotland should be known without delay at

the English court, and his sister was the only possible agent for the

purpose. It does not appear that her treachery, now doubly odious, ever

cost her the least qualm. The climax was, however, reached, when after

persuading James to confide to her his private instructions to the

Scottish ambassador residing in London, she contrived that the

information thus obtained should be in Henry's hands at the same moment

that it reached its legitimate destination.

Fortunately for the affairs of Scotland, the treasonable correspondence

was discovered; and Margaret narrowly escaped imprisonment. The

immediate result was to put an end to the more friendly intercourse

that had sprung up between the two countries, and to prevent a meeting

between the two sovereigns, in process of negotiation.

At this interview, which was to have taken place at York, Henry hoped

to convert his nephew to his own views regarding the Pope; and in order

to pave the way to, a good understanding between them, he sent Barlow

and Holcroft to Scotland with a lengthy document containing, with much

fulsome flattery of James, all Henry's choice vocabulary of epithets

hurled against the "Bishop of Rome."*

* Hamilton Papers--Instructions to Barlow and Holcroft, 3rd Oct. 1535,

fol. 27.

Margaret, ignorant that her son had discovered her treachery, continued

to urge him to proceed to York; but her eagerness only roused his

suspicions that worse treason lay behind.

"The Queen, your Grace's sister," wrote Lord William Howard to Henry,

"because she hath so earnestly solicited in the cause of meeting, is in

high displeasure with the King, her son, he bearing her in hand that

she received gifts of your Highness to betray him, with many other

unkind and suspicious words."*

*State Papers, iv. 46; R.O.

Enough has been already seen of Margaret's methods to make it quite

clear what her next step would be. Out of favour with James, she of

course threw the whole brunt of her misfortune on Henry, for whose sake

she had incurred so much danger and expense, having lived for the last

six months at court for the sole purpose of advancing his affairs.* But

Henry was beginning to weary of his sister's complaints and appeals for

money. Besides, James would in future guard his secrets better, and

Margaret almost cease to be useful as a spy. So she must not expect him

to disburse notable sums, merely because she is his sister, and must

henceforth learn to be content with the entirely sufficient provision

made for her on her marriage with the King of Scots.**

* Add. MS. 32, 616, f. 87; B.M.

** State Papers, v. 56; R.O.

This was all the consolation he could afford her for some time to come,

for besides his other reasons for disregarding the letters which she,

nothing daunted by his silence, continued to send him, Henry was too

much occupied with his own concerns to bestow much thought on a sister

whose power of helping him was now small. It was the moment of Anne

Boleyn's fall, and he was engrossed with the list of crimes of which he

was about to accuse the unhappy woman.

On the subject of Margaret's various marriages, her brother had ever

failed to manifest that sympathy which a similarity of tastes would

seem to justify. He had assumed the tone of a moralist on her

separation from Angus, and had treated Lord Methven in his letters with

scant respect, and when in the course of time she began to be weary of

her new spouse, and to complain of him with increasing bitterness, it

was long before Henry could be roused to express any interest in the

subject. At last, however, he found a convenient season for attending

to her. She had written to inform him that whereas she did Lord Meffen

(sic) the honour to take him as her husband, he had spent her lands and

profits upon his own kin, and had brought her into debt, to the sum of

8000 marks Scots, and would give her no account of it. She trusted the

king her son would treat her to his and her own honour; but if not, she

had no refuge but in Henry, and she begged him not to suffer her to be

wronged.

To this, Henry deigned to reply that he should be sorry if his good

brother and nephew treated her otherwise than a son should treat his

mother. As it appeared from certain evidence, she was well-handled, and

had grown to much wealth and quiet; but according to other reports,

quite the contrary, so that he was in doubt which to believe. "Also,"

he continues, "having heard at other times from you of your

evil-treatment by your son and Lord Muffyn (sic), and as we are sending

the bearer into those parts, on our business, we desire you to show him

the points wherein you note yourself evil-handled, and whether you

desire us to treat of them with your son, or only generally to

recommend your condition." *

* State Papers, v. 63, 65.

Margaret had remained faithful to Lord Methven for about ten years, and

it was not till 1537 that she thought of formally applying for a

divorce, her chief plea being that be wasted her money, although she

said she had "forty famous proofs" against him.*

* Hamilton Papers, 13th Oct. 1537, f. 105.

James was furious, and ordered that the divorce, whether obtained at

the cost of more false oaths, or whether Margaret's so-called third

husband really had a wife living when the union was contracted, should

not be proclaimed in Scotland.

This constituted Margaret's famous grievance against James, his

objection to her divorce being, his mother declared, the fear lest she

should pass into England and remarry the Earl of Angus. "And this Harry

Stuart, Lord of Methven, causes him to believe this of ME!" she

exclaimed contemptuously.* One plea for getting rid of the now despised

Harry Stuart is too amusing to be omitted. James was in France, whither

he had gone to bring home his bride, the young and beautiful Magdalene,

daughter of the French king, and Margaret thought to induce Henry to

interest himself in her divorce through his jealousy of the French.

* State Papers, v. 119.

After begging him to send a special messenger to the king her son, to

know his "utter mind," she says: "For now, dearest brother, your Grace

I trust will consider that now the queen his wife is to come into this

realm soon after Easter, as he hath sent word here, to make ready for

the same, and that being, it will be great dishonour to him that I, his

mother, having a just cause to part, can nought get a final end; and I

trust your Grace will consider I may do your Grace and my son more

honour to be without him (Lord Methven) than to have him, considering

that he is but a sober man, and if the Queen that is to come, see me

not entreated as I should be, she will think it an evil example." *

* Hamilton Papers, f. 109.

But all her efforts were fruitless; Henry could not be persuaded to

take up her quarrel, and James was obdurate. His mother, however, then

in her forty-ninth year, dispensed with legal formality altogether, and

allied herself to a certain John Stuart, who, according to some, is

identical with the adventurous Earl of Arran, so notorious in the reign

of James VI.

A few more miserable years of petty intrigues, it being no longer in

her power to carry on important ones, and Margaret came to the close of

her faithless, undignified life. But before the end, a ray of sorrow

for her mis-spent days brightened the hitherto unrelieved gloom of her

career. Henry's messenger, sent after her death to gather up the

details of her last moments, and above all, to find out whether she had

made a will, wrote to the king as follows:--

"When she did perceive that death did approach, she did desire the

friars that was her confessors, that they should sit on their knees

before the King, and to beseech him that he would be good and gracious

unto the Earl of Angwische, and did extremely lament and ask God mercy

that she had offended unto the said Earl as she had."

The friars were also to plead with her son for the Lady Margaret

Douglas, the daughter whom she had so remorselessly abandoned, and to

beg him that she might have some of her mother's goods. And thus,

making what reparation she could, with penitent words on her lips,

Margaret Tudor passed away.

II. NOR WIFE NOR WIDOW

The history of the first two marriages of Henry VIII. is of such vital

importance, affecting as they did the whole course of religion in

England, from the first whisperings of the divorce down to the present

day, that it is not to be wondered at if the royal Bluebeard's

subsequent matrimonial alliances have been considered negligible

quantities. And yet, at least one of them was of extreme political, and

even religious, importance, and was fraught with so much mystery that

until the most recent investigations, the true inwardness of the matter

has been totally misapprehended. The story of Anne of Cleves' portrait,

and Henry's supposed disappointment when he saw the lady herself for

the first time, is authentic in so far as it was exactly what the king

chose to have circulated about his fourth marriage. But if it contained

half the truth, it was the other half that really mattered.

After the fall of Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell had by his astute policy

succeeded in bringing about a religious state of things in England that

approached very nearly to Lutheranism. Taking advantage of Henry's

pique and anger at the Pope's refusal to grant him a divorce from

Katharine of Arragon, Cromwell set about widening the breach between

England and Rome. After weakening the power of the bishops and lower

clergy, he was able to force the oath of supremacy upon the nation, and

having thus satisfied his master's pride and vanity, his next step was

by the dissolution of the monasteries to pander to Henry's greed, while

at the same time he filled his own pockets.

In pursuit of these ends he had covered the land with gibbets, and

caused the noblest heads in England to fall upon the block. He had

branded the king's own daughter with the stigma of infamy, and to

obtain her consent thereto had kept the axe suspended over her. He had

been able to accomplish all this because thus far he had taken Henry's

measure correctly, working upon his worst passions, and suggesting ever

fresh means of satisfying them. Then came a point at which his

interests and those of the king diverged.

Cromwell was deeply pledged to the Lutheran cause, and his plan was to

throw Henry into the arms of the Lutheran princes of Germany. He had

already flooded the country with foreign heretics, using them as his

tools to protestantise the Church in England.

Jane Seymour died in 1537, and Cromwell at once negotiated a marriage

between Henry and Anne, daughter of the Duke of Cleves, Henry

consenting for the reason that it behoved him to fortify himself by an

alliance that would enable him to make a stand against a possible

combination of forces between the Pope, the Emperor, and the French

King. But at the very moment when Cromwell, believing himself to be at

the point of realising all his desires, was pledging his master to

marry Anne of Cleves, a reaction had set in which he so completely

disregarded as to seem in utter ignorance of it.

Nothing annoyed Henry more than to be twitted with being a heretic, and

whenever Henry was annoyed a blow might be expected. The loathed

epithet was now very frequently used in reference to him by the emperor

and others, and he was bent on showing Europe that he could be a very

good Catholic without the Pope. It irritated him to think that Cromwell

had laid him open to retort in this contention by a formal alliance

with the Lutherans, who were undeniably heretics. It served his purpose

very well to play them off against the emperor and even Francis I., but

it was not his will to be bound irrevocably by any contract. When

Cromwell thought to put the finishing touch to his triumphant scheme,

he only effected his own doom. He boasted to the Lutherans that he

would soon bring England over to their forms of faith, and on this

promise the match between Henry and Anne was concluded; but he failed

to rouse the German princes to a contest with the emperor, which was

all that Henry, apart from his minister's policy, had aimed at from the

beginning. With Henry the whole scheme was tentative, and the proposed

marriage but a detail of that scheme. When it fell through, he desired

to turn his back upon Cleves and the rest of the German princes;

moreover, he had no further need of Cromwell himself, who was rather in

the way of his new plans, unless the minister could find a means to

disentangle the imbroglio he had created with regard to Anne.

Like a child with a new toy, Henry was now engrossed in the fun of

being Pope in his own dominions; and as Head of the Church of England

whom it behoved to reprobate heresy in every shape and form, he

conducted a trial against one John Nicholson, who, refusing to recant

his heretical opinions, was burned at Smithfield. After this he felt

confident of being as Catholic as the real Pope, and safe from

opprobrium. He proceeded to bring forward deliberations in Parliament

on the subject of religion, with the result that the famous Act of the

Six Articles was passed. This Act, nicknamed by the Lutherans "the whip

with six cords," brought in a reaction in favour of the old religion,

which lasted till Henry's death, but matters between England and Rome

remained as they were.

Meanwhile, the lady Anne of Cleves had made her unwelcome appearance.

One of the most curious and indeed incomprehensible facts concerning

Henry VIII., is the admiring awe and grovelling gratitude with which he

was adored by most of the women whom he had the privilege of

ill-treating. After the year 1527, when he first conceived the desire

of raising Anne Boleyn to the throne, and of divorcing Katharine,

except for the short period during which he was married to Jane

Seymour, there were always two rival claimants for his hand. Not only

was Katharine ever generously ready to forget past insults if he would

graciously extend his clemency towards her, and send Anne away, but

every other woman with whom he came in contact, addressed him in words

more suited to a divinity than to an earthly king. His daughter Mary,

after having been spurned as the most degraded and abject creature of

the realm, longed for nothing more ardently than "to attain the

fruition of his most desired presence."

Although the personal appearance of Anne of Cleves did not bear out the

exaggerated reports of the German agent Mont, who had told Henry that

her beauty exceeded that of the Duchess of Milan "as the sun outshines

the silver moon," she was found on her arrival in England to be "tall,

bright, and graceful," her liveliness making amends for any defect as

to regularity of feature. Comparing her claim to beauty with that of

the other wives of Henry VIII., it does not appear that she contrasted

unfavourably with any, not even with Katharine Howard, who was very

generally admired. The king himself observed to Cromwell that Anne was

"well and seemly, and had a queenly manner," but that he found it

difficult to converse with her as she knew no word of any language but

German.

He had first met her privately at Rochester, and had dined with her,

their public meeting taking place about half a mile from the foot of

Shooter's Hill, where she rested in a gorgeous pavilion prepared for

the occasion. Henry came marching through Greenwich Park with a

brilliant escort, and the bride and bridegroom met full merrily. The

king embraced the lady ceremoniously, and the chronicler Hall, some

time afterwards, in describing their entry into Greenwich, breaks out

into one of his eulogistic periods:

"O what a sight was this, to see so goodly a Prince and so noble a King

to ride with so fair a lady, of so goodly a stature, and so womanly a

countenance, and in especial of so good qualities. I think no creature

could see them but his heart rejoiced!"

Nevertheless, Henry's moody question, "What remedy?" which obviously

had its origin in no mere disappointment in the matter of Anne's beauty

or power to charm, was calculated to strike terror into Cromwell's

soul, the chancellor knowing full well that all this bravery was but an

appearance, and that his great scheme of Lutheranising England to the

greater glory of himself was irrevocably wrecked, and his own fate

sealed. The king went on to say that if it were not that the lady had

come so far, and for fear of making a ruffle in the world, and of

driving her brother into the emperor's arms and those of the French

king, he would not go through with the marriage ceremony.

As a forlorn hope of escape, the bride was asked to make a declaration

that she was free from all precontracts, which she did without the

least hesitation, and there was nothing to be done but for Henry "to

put his head into the yoke," and to make an insignificant political

alliance, which would thenceforth serve no political end. As a Catholic

king, Head of the Church and Defender of the Faith, there was no room

in his plans for a Lutheran queen. However, he no longer regarded the

marriage tie as a knot that could not be undone at a pinch. Cranmer

could be counted on to be pliable in that matter, and if Cromwell made

difficulties, a sword was hanging over him that could be made to fall

at any moment, and Henry knew that the death of the man who had been

the terror of England for ten years would be hailed with enthusiasm by

the whole nation. Henry's foreign policy had always been a

non-committal one, and Cromwell's daring intrigues had carried his

master further than he intended to go. As the chancellor could find no

means of getting him out of the mess, he lost his life, and Anne of

Cleves her barely assumed dignity.

The disgusting letters which Cromwell wrote from the Tower, in the hope

that his tardy playing into the king's hands would obtain him a pardon,

were of immense use to Henry in confusing the public mind as to the

real reason for his repudiation of Anne, for he was anxious in breaking

off from Protestant Germany not to turn the Duke of Cleves into an

enemy. The want of decency and the unchivalrous sacrifice of Anne's

honour and dignity are perhaps not surprising between such men as Henry

and Cromwell, but it is startling to find the lady's brother swallowing

the insult calmly. Nevertheless, Henry's diplomatic insight had

correctly gauged the coarsening effect of Luther's moral code on a mind

that could see less offence in a stain of this kind than in a frank

rupture of the marriage-treaty before Anne had been allowed to set foot

in England. There is this, however, to be said, that the possession of

the lady gave Henry a decided advantage over her brother.

A few weeks after the marriage, or what passed for such, Anne was sent

to Richmond on the pretext of being out of reach of the plague, but

there was no talk at that time of any plague, and if there had been,

Henry would certainly have gone away also, for no one feared the

epidemic more than he. On her departure, a commission was appointed

under the Great Seal to inquire into the validity of her marriage, and

in an incredibly short space of time it was declared null, by reason of

a pre-contract with the son of the Duke of Lorraine. Henry then endowed

his ex-queen with lands to the value of 4000 pounds annually, with a

house at Richmond, and another at Bletchingly.

Whatever she may have felt, Anne expressed herself willing to be

divorced--perhaps she was thankful to escape with her head--and desired

the Duke of Cleves' messenger "to commend her to her brother, and say

she was merry and well entreated." He reported of her that she said

this "with such alacrity and pleasant gesture, that he might well

testify that he found her not miscontented. After she had dined she

sent the King the ring delivered unto her at their pretended marriage,

desiring that it might be broken in pieces as a thing which she knew of

no force or value." Henry sent her many gifts and tokens "as his sister

and none otherwise," and told her that she was to be the first lady in

the realm next after the queen and the king's children. He exhorted her

to be "quiet and merry," and subscribed himself "your loving brother

and friend." After his fifth marriage she was designated as "the old

Queen, the King's sister."

The French ambassador, in a letter of the 6th August 1540, wrote:--

"The King being lately with a small party at Hampton Court, ten miles

hence, supped at Richmond with the Queen that was so merrily that some

thought he meant to reinstate her, but others think it was done to get

her consent to the dissolution of the marriage, and make her subscribe

what she had said thereupon, which is not only what they wanted, but

also what she thinks they expected. The latter opinion is the more

likely, as the King drew her apart, in company with the three first

councillors he had, who are not commonly called in to such confidence."

Marillac goes on to say that he thinks it would be great inconsistency

to take her back now, and that moreover she did not sup with him as she

did when she was queen, but at another table adjoining his, as other

ladies who are not of the blood do, when he eats in company.

On the 15th he wrote to the Duke de Montmorency:--

"As for her who is called Madame de Cleves, far from pretending to be

distressed, she is as joyous as ever, and wears new dresses every day,

which argues either prudent dissimulation or stupid forgetfulness of

what should so closely touch her heart. Be it as it may, it has thrown

the poor ambassador of Cleves into a fever, who sends every day to ask

if I have no news of his master."

Even if Anne's first feeling had been one of relief that a worse fate

had not befallen her, her gaiety was obviously forced, and no doubt the

lady did "protest too much," but she had been ordered to be "quiet and

merry," and if after such a mandate she had ventured to put on a

sorrowful countenance, or to express a vain regret, her quondam husband

would probably have been--such was his disposition--less flattered by

the compliment than irritated by the command disobeyed. And so she

prudently accepted her fate and "sate like patience on a monument

smiling at grief," as it afterwards transpired, and in her efforts to

please, imposed upon herself what must have been the most trying

ordeals.

Her marriage had taken place on the feast of the Epiphany, 1540, and in

July of the same year Henry was united to Katharine Howard,

grand-daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. This young woman's reputation

was already so notoriously bad, that it is impossible to believe that

the king could be in ignorance of the fact. Nevertheless, for the time

being, he was deeply in love, and his scruples and righteous anger were

wont to come--afterwards. Marillac describes the new queen "as rather

graceful than beautiful, and of short stature." He says:--

"The King is so amorous of her that he cannot treat her well enough,

and caresses her more than he did the others. She and all the Court

ladies dress in the French style, and her device is Non autre volonte

que la sienne. Madame de Cleves is as cheerful as ever, as her

brother's ambassador says."

But others besides Anne of Cleves had reason to mourn, and Melancthon

complained that atrocious crimes were reported from England, that the

divorce with the lady of Juliers was already made, and another married,

and that "good men of our opinion in religion are murdered."

On the 27th September, the papal nuncio wrote grimly to Cardinal

Farnese, that "SO FAR" the King of England was pleased with his new

wife, and the other, "sister of Cleeves has retired and 'LIVES.'"

Rumours, however, were persistently current that Henry intended to take

back Anne, until in November, Marillac informed his master that the new

queen had "completely acquired the King's grace," and that the other

was "no more thought of than if she were dead."

But Marillac had soon reason to see that in making this statement he

had somewhat exaggerated. The Princess Mary seems to have been well

informed of the loose character and behaviour of Katharine Howard, and

contrived to find pretexts for a long time for absenting herself from

court, so that the queen complained to Henry that his daughter did not

treat her with the respect she had shown to the two former queens.

But Anne of Cleves had no scruples about associating with Katharine,

and was perhaps keen to note every detail concerning her brilliant

rival, who had been more successful than herself in capturing the

king's roving fancy. She was probably as much in the dark as most

people, as to the politico-religious embarrassment she constituted.

The French ambassador gives an amusing description of her New Year's

visit to the court:--

"Sire, to omit nothing that may be written about this country, Madame

Anne, sister of the Duke of Cleves, formerly Queen of England, passed

the recent festivities at Richmond, four miles from Hampton Court, to

which place the King and also the Queen sent her, on the first day of

the year, rich presents of clothes, plate and jewels, valued at six or

seven thousand crowns. And on the second day she was summoned to appear

at Hampton Court, where she was very honourably conducted by several of

the nobility, and being arrived, the King received her very graciously,

as did also the Queen, with whom she remained nearly the whole

afternoon. They danced together, and seemed so happy that neither did

the new Queen appear to be jealous or afraid that the other had come to

raise the siege, as it was rumoured, nor did the said lady of Cleves

show any sign of discontent at seeing her rival in her place. Moreover,

Sire, if it please you to hear the end of this farce, that evening, and

the next, the two ladies supped at the King's table together, although

the lady of Cleves sat a little backward, in a corner, where the

Princess of England, Madame Mary, is wont to be; and the following day,

the said lady of Cleves returned with the same escort to Richmond,

where she is visited by all the personages of the court, which makes

people think she is about to be reinstated in her former position." *

* De Marillac, Correspondance Politique, p. 258.

Eustace Chapuys, the imperial ambassador, also wrote an account of this

strange visit. He says:--

"On the 3rd [January 1541], the lady Anne of Cleves sent the King a New

Year's present of two large horses, with violet velvet trappings, and

presented herself at Hampton Court, with her suite, accompanied only by

Lord William, the Duke of Norfolk's brother, who happened to meet her

on the road to this city. She was received by the Duchess of Suffolk,

the Countess of Hertford, and other ladies, who conducted her to her

lodgings and then to the Queen's apartments. She insisted on addressing

the Queen on her knees, for all the Queen could say, who showed her the

utmost kindness. The King then entered, and after a low bow to Lady

Anne, embraced and kissed her. She occupied a seat near the bottom of

the table at supper, but after the King had retired, the Queen and Lady

Anne danced together, and next day all three dined together. At this

time the King sent his Queen a present of a ring and two small dogs,

which she passed over to Lady Anne. That day Lady Anne returned to

Richmond."*

* Chapuys to the Emperor; Gairdner, Cal. 16, No. 436.

The public rumour of the likelihood of Anne's restoration arose

probably as much from the common talk of the queen's immoral conduct as

from the circumstance of Anne's appearance at court. The reports at

length reached Katharine's ears, and it was possibly her accusing

conscience that betrayed itself in her visible depression of spirits.

"Some days ago [wrote Chapuys to the Queen of Hungary on 6th May 1541],

this Queen being rather sad, the King wished to know the cause, and she

said it was owing to a rumour that he was going to take back Anne of

Cleves. The King told her that she was wrong to think such things, and

[that] even if he were in a position to marry, he had no mind to take

back Anne; which is very probable, as his love never returns for a

woman he has once abandoned. Yet many thought he would be reconciled to

her for fear of the King of France making war on him at the

solicitation of the Duke of Cleves and the King of Scotland."

This was the first intimation of the storm that was soon to burst When

it suited Henry to give ear to the scandals afloat about the queen, his

grief and indignation, or what it pleased him should pass for such,

knew no bounds.

The palace at Hampton Court where Katharine was imprisoned, was so

strictly guarded that none but certain officers could enter or leave

it. The Princess Mary, who had spent the last few months with her

stepmother, presenting a strange contrast to her surroundings, was now

sent to join Prince Edward, and her father announced that he was

heartbroken at the queen's immorality and perfidy. Anne was thought by

Chapuys to rejoice greatly at Katharine's fall, but her execution

caused little comment throughout the country. Either the nation was

indifferent or it had become accustomed to the disgrace of queen

consorts.

Marillac, writing to Francis I. on the 11th November, says:--

"The way taken is the same as with Queen Anne who was beheaded. She has

taken no kind of pastime, but kept in her chamber, whereas, before, she

did nothing but dance and rejoice; and now when the musicians come,

they are told that this is no more the time to dance . . . . As to whom

the King will take, everyone thinks it will be the lady he has left,

who has conducted herself wisely in her affliction, and is more

beautiful than she was, and more regretted and commiserated than Queen

Katharine (of Arragon) was in like case. Besides, the King shows no

inclination to any other lady, and will have some remorse of

conscience, and no man in England dare suggest one of such quality as

the lady in question, for fear, if she were repudiated of falling en

quelque gros inconvenient."

The imperial ambassador had, it is seen, estimated Henry's character

more correctly than Marillac did, for as to "remorse of conscience," we

do not find throughout the whole length of his life that the royal

miscreant ever made an attempt to expiate any one of his crimes, or to

make amends to a single individual for wrong done.

According to Marillac, the king was so shocked and grieved at

Katharine's behaviour, that he proposed never to take another wife; but

when it was suggested that in spite of her outrageous conduct the queen

might possibly escape the punishment of death, on account of her beauty

and her sweetness of disposition, the Duke of Norfolk said that she

must of necessity die, because the king could not marry again while she

lived.

Francis I. does not seem to have taken his envoy's account of Henry's

grief very seriously (he had known the King of England longer than

Marillac had), and replied with some apparent cheerfulness, that he was

sorry for his cousin's misfortune, and would soon send a gentleman to

condole with the king.

Chapuys, as usual, had with greater discernment, hit the more probable

mean.

"This King has wonderfully felt the case of the Queen, his wife, and

has certainly shown greater sorrow at her loss than at the fault, loss,

or divorce of his preceding wives. It is like the case of the woman who

cried more bitterly at the loss of her tenth husband than at the deaths

of all the others together, though they had all been good men; but it

was because she had never buried one of them before without being sure

of the next, and as yet it does not seem that he has formed any new

plan."

Katharine was beheaded on the 13th October 1542, on the same spot on

the Tower Green where Anne Boleyn had been executed. Her end, and that

of Lady Rochester who had encouraged her in her evil life, was

penitent, and even edifying. After the execution it was remarked that

the king was in better spirits, and during the last few days before

Lent there was much feasting at Court.

Chapuys describes the state of affairs thus:--

"Sunday was given up to the Lords of his Council, and Court; Monday to

the men of law; and Tuesday to the ladies, who all slept at the Court.

He himself in the morning did nothing but go from room to room to order

lodgings to be prepared for these ladies, and he made them great and

hearty cheer, without showing particular affection to any one. Indeed,

unless Parliament prays him to take another wife, he will not I think

be in a hurry to marry; besides, few if any ladies now at Court would

aspire to such an honour, for a law has just been passed, that should

any King henceforth wish to marry a subject, the lady will be bound on,

pain of death to declare if any charges of misconduct can be brought

against her, and all who know or suspect anything of the kind against

her, are bound to reveal it within twenty days, on pain of confiscation

of goods and imprisonment for life."

Perhaps it was this general indictment of the women of Henry's court,

most certainly the echo of public opinion, that had caused the people

to persist in the belief that Anne of Cleves would regain Katharine's

strangely coveted place. Where the reputation of a whole class was so

bad as to make the above kind of declaration impossible, virtue, such

as that attributed to the Lady Anne, was at a premium, and as it was

useless to think of a suitable foreign alliance in the state of Henry's

religious opinions, justice and necessity had alike seemed to point to

the reinstatement of the discarded queen. But Henry was exceedingly

annoyed at these repeated suggestions which, forsooth, had almost

appeared TO DICTATE TO HIM, and he determined to put a stop to the free

wagging of tongues on the subject of his matrimonial affairs.

After the fall of Katharine Howard, and before her execution, a State

Paper records that Jane Rattsay was "examined of her words to Elizabeth

Bassett, viz., 'What if God worketh this work to make the Lady Anne of

Cleves queen again?' She answered that it was an idle saying suggested

by Bassett's 'Praising the Lady Anne, and dispraising the Queen that

now is.' She declared that she never spoke at any other time of the

Lady Anne, and she thought the King's divorce from her good." Examined

as to her exclamation "What a man is the King! How many wives will he

have?" she answered that she said it "upon the sudden tidings declared

to her by Bassett, when she was sorry for the change and knew not so

much as she knows now."

But for all Anne's prudence, and the bold front the brave woman

presented to her misfortunes, she had been secretly hoping that when

the inevitable crash came, she would be restored to the rights which

she had only renounced, because she had no alternative. Henry, however,

made no sign, and in 1543 Katharine Parr appeared on the scene. The

first mention of the king's sixth wife in the public records is a

tailor's bill for numerous items of cotton, linen, buckram, etc., and

the making of Italian gowns, pleats, and sleeves, kirtles, French,

Dutch, and Venetian gowns, Venetian sleeves, French hoods, etc., of

various materials, the total amount of the bill being 8 pounds, 9s. 5d.

This bill was delivered "to my Lady Latymer," and was copied into the

book of Skutt the tailor.

Katharine Parr had been first married as a mere child to the old Lord

Borough of Gainsborough, and had been left a widow before she was

seventeen. She then married Lord Latimer, who died in 1543, and was

immediately sought in marriage by Sir Thomas Seymour, brother of the

king's third wife, who became Lord High Admiral in Edward's reign.

Katharine undoubtedly intended to become his wife, but as she

afterwards wrote, her "will was over-ruled by a higher power."

On the 20th June of the same year, Lady Latimer and her sister Mrs.

Herbert were at court "with my Lady Mary's Grace and my Lady

Elizabeth," and the next mention of her is in a licence of Thomas,

Archbishop of Canterbury, "authorised thereto by parliament to Henry

VIII. (who has deigned to marry the Lady Katharine, late wife of Lord

Latimer deceased) to have the marriage solemnised in any church,

chapel, or oratory, without the issue of banns." It took place on the

12th July following, in an upper oratory called the Queen's Privy

Closet, within the honour of Hampton Court, Gardiner, Bishop of

Winchester, officiating.

"Anne of Cleves [wrote Chapuys to Charles V.], would like to be in her

sherte [shroud] so to speak, with her mother, having especially taken

great grief and despair at the king's espousal of this last wife, who

is not nearly so beautiful as she, besides that there is no hope of

issue, seeing that she had none with her two former husbands."

Others, besides the poor, discarded Lady Anne were also in tribulation,

and a letter from one of the Lutherans in England to Henry Bullinger,

the reformer, reports that "the king has within these two months burnt

three godly men in one day. For in July he married the widow of a

nobleman named Latimer, and he is always wont to celebrate his nuptials

by some wickedness of this kind."

But Katharine herself was glad exceedingly, and told Lord Parr that "it

having pleased God to incline the king to take her as his wife, which

is the greatest joy and comfort that could happen to her, she informs

her brother of it as the person who has most cause to rejoice thereat,

and requires him to let her sometimes hear of his health, as friendly

as if she had not been called to this honour."

Wriothesley, in forwarding this letter from the queen, Lord Parr's

"gracious lady and kind sister," doubts not but that he will thank God,

and frame himself to be more and more an ornament to Her Majesty.

The marriage was in every way satisfactory. Katharine was twenty-six,

about one year younger than the Lady Mary, and was by universal fame

reported "a prudent, beautiful, and virtuous lady." The royal family

had reason to be grateful for her influence over the king, whom she

persuaded to restore both Mary and Elizabeth to their rank. To Edward

she was a second mother, and Henry seems to have looked upon her with

something akin to respect, appointing her regent when he crossed the

Channel to invade France in 1544.

She offended him, however, on one occasion, by venturing to express a

difference of opinion on a religious question, and it was said that

articles of heresy were drawn up against her. "A good hearing it is,"

exclaimed Henry, "when women become such clerks; and a thing much to my

comfort to come in mine old days to be taught by my wife! Her prudence

and tact saved her life, if it was ever seriously in danger."