_, 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE AND ADMINISTRATION 
 
 OF 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY 
 
 By JOHN GALT, Esa. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 OLIVER & BOYD, TWEEDDALE-COURT ; 
 
 AND 
 
 GEO. B. WHITTAKER, LONDON. 
 1824. 
 
ENTERED IN STATIONERS' HALL. 
 

 THE 
 
 LIFE AND ADMINISTRATION 
 
 OF 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 
 During the predominance of the papal authority, 
 all the nations of Europe formed, in reality, but 
 one general state, in which the civil and military 
 institutions were subordinate to the ecclesiastical. 
 The submission yielded to secular superiors was 
 modified by the various tenure of feudal property. 
 No laws existed which the whole community was 
 equally boflipd to maintain, but such as issued from 
 the apostolicJ^throne. By whatever names the 
 provinces of Christendom were distinguished, em- 
 pires, kingdoms, or republics, the people and their 
 rulers alike acknowledged themselves subject to 
 the pope. Royalty did homage to superstition ; 
 nor was the crown itself allodial, but held of the 
 tiara. 
 
 II. 1 The means by which the papal power was 
 upheld and exercised were as wonderful as tjie ex- 
 
2 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tent of its prerogatives. A portion of mankind as- 
 sumed privileges above the rights of the common 
 race ; and the humblest member of that class might 
 aspire to supreme command. As inducements to 
 submission, the priesthood promised, to all who 
 would most slavishly obey their authority, rewards 
 which the vicissitudes of life could not affect, and 
 threatened with eternal penalties those who resisted 
 or renounced their jurisdiction. Man surrendered 
 his reason, and yielded a degree of implicit obedi- 
 ence to the pope, such as never existed under any 
 other form of government. Thus the management 
 of all concerns became intrusted to the officers of 
 his holiness ; and, in the fulness of the ecclesiasti- 
 cal usurpation, the clergy may be described as con- 
 stituting the governing mind of the political body. 
 III. The long, bloody, and proscriptive wars 
 between the royal families of York and Lancaster, 
 reduced the ancient importance of England as a 
 province of Christendom, and naturally gave a 
 preponderance to military domination over an 
 authority founded on opinion, at an era when 
 the revival of philosophy was favourable to any 
 diminution in the powers of the Roman theo- 
 cracy. The restoration of peace and order was 
 no doubt advantageous to the church ; and un- 
 der Henry VII. the clergy began to put forth 
 again their former pretensions ; but the people 
 no longer regarded them with the veneration 
 which they had once enjoyed. In the state, how- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 3 
 
 ever, churchmen still attained the highest offi- 
 ces ; but they were generally looked upon as the 
 members of an order, arrogant by the possession 
 of exorbitant privileges, averse to the social in- 
 terests of mankind, and their conduct, in conse- 
 quence, was investigated with a jealous and inqui- 
 sitorial eye. 
 
 IV. The civil wars also tended to diminish the 
 personal influence and manorial jurisdiction of the 
 barons. Proscripti^ms led to changes in the pos- 
 session of domains. The feudal tenants, accus- 
 tomed to look upon the hereditary lord of the ma- 
 nor as their natural and rightful superior, viewed 
 his removal as oppression, and considered his suc- 
 cessors as usurpers. The ancient ties of connexion 
 between the chief and the vassal were generally re- 
 laxed, and in many instances entirely dissolved. 
 The nobles were divided into two factions; and, 
 as the princes of York or of Lancaster alternately 
 prevailed, each faction was in its turn doomed to 
 suffer the vengeance of its rival. They found it 
 necessary also to be more around the king than 
 when the succession was not disputed : — His friends 
 to maintain his cause — the moderate to avoid sus- 
 picion — and his adversaries to watch opportunities 
 to promote the designs of their own faction. The 
 splendour of the court was thus augmented ; but 
 the absence of the nobility from their castles weak- 
 ened the whole structure of the feudal system 
 which supported the oligarchy, and impaired for 
 
4 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ever that formidable power which had resulted 
 from a constant intercourse of affection and autho- 
 rity between the lords and their vassals. The 
 reign of Henry VIII. was not only the most mag- 
 nificent in the annals of England, but also that in 
 which the king exercised the greatest latitude of 
 prerogative, and in which the nobility possessed 
 the least influence. It was later before the full 
 extent of the good, ordained to spring from the 
 evil of the disputed succession, manifested itself 
 among the people. 
 
 V. Although the court presented a scene of gor- 
 geous pageantries unknown in any former period, 
 the personal animosities and fierce altercations of 
 the civil wars had produced among the courtiers 
 rude and obstreperous manners. They indulged 
 in a rough plainness of address, almost as different 
 from the ceremonious courtesy of chivalry as the 
 easy politeness which has since succeeded. Eng- 
 land never exhibited such superb spectacles of 
 knighthood as in the reign of Henry VIII. ; but 
 lists and tournaments were no longer regarded as 
 courts of equity, nor the fortune of arms a more 
 accurate criterion of guilt or of innocence than the 
 verdict of civil tribunals. All the parade of chi- 
 valry was renewed ; but the spirit had departed 
 with the circumstances which had called it forth. 
 To profess the sentiments which it had anciently 
 inspired was not indeed ridiculous ; but the vows 
 and pageants which added a gallant dignity to un- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 lettered valour, ceased to be objects of serious con- 
 cern, and were only imitated in exhibitions for the 
 amusement of the king. 
 
 VI. The civil wars were not more favourable to 
 the advancement of learning than to the authority 
 of the nobility and the clergy. During the reign of 
 Henry VI. polite literature had made some pro- 
 gress. His pacific disposition had led him to fos- 
 ter the arts which contribute to the pleasures of 
 life ; but from the date of his dethronement they 
 began to decline, and the universities ceased to re- 
 cognise the muses. What was called philosophy 
 consisted in the agitation of logical subtilties, 
 founded commonly on mere verbal distinctions, 
 which sharpened without informing the under- 
 standing. The general notion entertained of 
 science was of something infinitely beyond ordinary 
 uses. It was wrapt up in language almost as mys- 
 terious as the Egyptian hieroglyphics ; and no- 
 thing less was expected from it than a knowledge 
 of future events, and the power of conferring 
 wealth and immortality. In these vain pursuits 
 many important facts, it is true, were ascertained ; 
 but they were passed over unheeded and unvalued. 
 Divinity was the only study that tended to ad- 
 vance the progress of the public mind ; and the 
 art of printing favoured the prevalent bias of the 
 age by multiplying the materials and excitements 
 of controversy. 
 
 VII. Besides the civil wars, exterior events had 
 
b CARDINAL W0L8EY. 
 
 contributed to alter and expand the views of the 
 English nation. The riches which Portugal had 
 obtained by exploring the passage to India, inspir- 
 ed Spain with adventurous emulation ; and her 
 enterprises were rewarded by the attainment of a 
 new world. This great achievement roused through- 
 out Christendom a similar spirit. Avarice over- 
 came ambition in the councils of princes ; and so- 
 vereigns and subjects, alike eager to participate in 
 the golden regions of the West, promoted the mo- 
 ral independence of man by cultivating the means 
 of commerce. A new order was, in consequence, 
 destined at this era to arise in society, by which, in 
 time, the policy of nations, the motives of war, and 
 the modes of rule, were to be radically changed. 
 Hitherto the power of our kings had depended on 
 their territorial possessions, and the influence of 
 our nobles on the breadth and fertility of their es- 
 tates ; but the mercantile order, by gradual accu- 
 mulation, has since attained an ascendency in the 
 realm equal to that of the clergy and nobility, and 
 reduced to its subserviency the prerogatives of the 
 crown itself. In the reign of Henry VIII. this 
 class had, it is true, not assumed any recognisable 
 form ; but the principles which, by subsequent 
 development, induced all its importance, began to 
 affect the undertakings and treaties of the govern- 
 ment. 
 
 VIII. This state of the clergy and of the no- 
 bility, of manners, of learning, and of trade, afford- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ed ample scope for the exercise of an ambitious, 
 resolute, and ostentatious mind. The following 
 narrative is an attempt to delineate a character in- 
 disputably of this description, and to exhibit a 
 view of the events by which that character was go- 
 verned in a period full of great emergencies, and 
 fraught with changes affecting the interests of the 
 whole human race, — a period which, like the pre- 
 sent momentous age, may be regarded as one of 
 those vast occasional eddies, in the mighty current 
 of human affairs, by which homes and inheritances 
 are overwhelmed and swept away ; but which, as 
 the violence subsides, never fail to leave behind in- 
 estimable riches for the use and improvement of 
 mankind. 
 
 IX. Thomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich in 
 the month of March 1471. His father, though of 
 mean condition, possessed some property. Per- 
 suaded of the apt and active genius of his son, he 
 sent him early to school, and destined him for the 
 service of the church. Wolsey, at the age of 
 fifteen, was a student in Oxford, and obtained the 
 degree of bachelor of arts, which procured him at 
 the university the name of the boy bachelor. Few 
 so young, with all the advantages of rank and af- 
 fluence, attained in that age academical honours. 
 His great progress in philosophy and other learning 
 having early procured for him a fellowship in Mag- 
 dalen College, he was also appointed master of the 
 school, and intrusted with the education of the 
 
8 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 sons of the Marquis of Dorset. The proficiency 
 which these young noblemen made under his 
 tuition, and his own conversational accomplish- 
 ments, displayed while passing the Christmas holi- 
 days with their father, so ingratiated him with the 
 marquis, that he was rewarded with the rectory of 
 Lymington in Somersetshire. 
 
 X. He was at this time burser of Magdalen 
 College ; but having, without a sufficient warrant, 
 applied the funds to complete the great tower of 
 the buildings, he found himself obliged to resign. 
 The tower is still one of the ornaments of Oxford, 
 and may be regarded not only as a specimen of his 
 taste in architecture, but as a monument of that 
 forward spirit and intrepid disrespect of precedents 
 which he so amply manifested in greater affairs. 
 
 XI. His disposition, frank and social, often led 
 him to scenes and enjoyments unbecoming the 
 grave regularity of the ecclesiastical profession. 
 He had not resided long at Lymington before he 
 was found concerned in the riots of a fair in the 
 neighbourhood ; for which one of the justices of 
 the peace subjected him to disgraceful punishment. 
 Whether this was just or inconsiderate, it could 
 not but serve to impair his respectability in the 
 eyes of his parishioners. He therefore removed 
 from Lymington, and was received as one of the 
 domestic chaplains of Archbishop Dean. At the 
 death of that prelate he went to Calais, where Sir 
 John Nanfan, then treasurer, appointed him to 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 manage the business of his office. In this situation, 
 Wolsey conducted himself with so much discretion, 
 that Sir John was induced to exert his influence to 
 procure him promotion, and succeeded in procuring 
 him to be nominated one of the chaplains to the king. 
 XII. Wolsey, when he obtained this appoint- 
 ment, possessed many of those personal endow- 
 ments which are often as effectual in advancing a 
 young man as either virtue or talent. He spoke 
 and acted with a- generous assurance ; and that su- 
 periority of deportment, which, in the glare of his 
 full fortune, was felt so like arrogance, seemed then 
 only calculated to acquire and secure respect. In 
 the performance of his duty, he had frequent op- 
 portunities of improving the impression of his ex- 
 terior accomplishments ; and his advancement ac- 
 companied the development of his talents. The 
 abbot of the rich monastery of St Edmund ap- 
 pointed him to the rectory of Redgrave, in the 
 diocese of Norwich : Fox, Bishop of Winchester, 
 who at that time held the privy seal, and Sir 
 Thomas Lovel, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
 also distinguished him by their friendship. They 
 thought that his uncommon capacity might be use- 
 fully employed in state affairs ; and accordingly, 
 while the treaty of marriage was pending between 
 the king and Margaret the Dowager of Savoy, they 
 proposed him as a fit person to be sent to her fa- 
 ther, the Emperor Maximilian, on that business. 
 His majesty had not before particularly noticed 
 
10 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Wolsey ; but, after conversing with him, he was 
 so satisfied with his qualifications, that he com- 
 manded him to be in readiness for the embassy. 
 
 XIII. The court was then at Richmond, from 
 which Wolsey proceeded with his despatches to 
 London, where he arrived about four o'clock in 
 the afternoon. He had a boat waiting ; and in 
 less than three hours was at Gravesend. With 
 post-horses, he got next morning to Dover, reached 
 Calais in the course of the forenoon, and arrived 
 the same night at the imperial court. The empe- 
 ror, informed that an extraordinary ambassador had 
 come from England, immediately admitted him ; 
 and the business being agreeable, was quickly con- 
 cluded. Wolsey then returned, and reached Calais 
 at the opening of the gates — found the passengers 
 going on board the vessel that brought him from 
 England — embarked — and about ten o'clock was 
 landed at Dover. He reached Richmond the same 
 night; and, after taking some repose, rose, and 
 met the king as he came from his chamber to hear 
 the morning service. His majesty, surprised at 
 seeing him there, and supposing that he had not 
 yet departed, rebuked him for neglecting the 
 orders with which he was charged : " May it please 
 your highness,'" said Wolsey, " I have been with 
 the emperor, and executed my commission to the 
 satisfaction, I trust, of your grace.'" He then 
 knelt, and presented Maximilian's letters. Dis- 
 sembling the admiration which he i'elt at such mi- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 11 
 
 precedented expedition, the king inquired if he had 
 received no orders by a pursuivant who had been 
 sent after him ? Wolsey answered, that he met 
 the messenger as he returned ; but, having pre- 
 conceived the purpose for which he was sent, he 
 had presumed, of his own accord, to supply the 
 defect in his credentials, for which he solicited his 
 majesty's pardon'. Pleased with this foresight, and 
 gratified with the result of the negotiation, the 
 king readily forgave his temerity, and command- 
 ed him to attend the council in the afternoon. 
 Wolsey, at the time appointed, reported the busi- 
 ness of his mission with so much clearness and pro- 
 priety that he received the applause of all present ; 
 and, when the deanery of Lincoln soon after be- 
 came vacant, it was bestowed on him by his majes- 
 ty, who, from the period of that embassy, continued 
 to treat him with particular favour. 
 
 XIV. It has been alleged that Bishop Fox, in 
 order to counteract the power of the Earl of Sur- 
 rey, who then monopolized almost the whole fa- 
 vour and patronage of the crown, was induced to 
 avail himself of Wolsey's rising genius. What- 
 ever were his motives, it may be inferred that the 
 personal merits of Wolsey were beginning to 
 awaken the envious apprehensions of that sordid 
 race who ascribe the prosperity of others to any 
 cause rather than to the efforts of ability, and to 
 whom talents form a matter of offence. 
 
12 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 XV. Wolsey had not long been dean of Lincoln 
 when Henry VII. died, and was succeeded by his 
 only surviving son, then in the eighteenth year of 
 his age. The claims of the rival families of York 
 and Lancaster were united in the person of Henry 
 VIII. He also inherited from his father greater 
 treasures than any English monarch had ever be- 
 fore enjoyed. Nor was he less distinguished by 
 the gifts of nature than by those of fortune. His 
 figure was eminently handsome ; his spirit coura- 
 geous ; and his temper, though hot and arbitrary, 
 was open and generous. During the life of his 
 elder brother, Prince Arthur, he was intended for 
 the church ; and to the effects of this design histo- 
 rians have ascribed his erudition, and the personal 
 share which he took in the controversies of the Re- 
 formation. He delighted in magnificent specta- 
 cles, and was passionately fond of equestrian and 
 athletic exercises — amusements to which the princes 
 and nobles of England have ever been partial. At 
 his accession he was calculated by his person and 
 manners to attract the admiration and affections of 
 the multitude ; and by his knowledge and capacity 
 to obtain the esteem and indulgence of the discern- 
 ing few. By the judicious advice of his grandmo- 
 ther, he selected for ministers those counsellors of 
 his father who were the most respected for their 
 caution and wisdom'/ And no money being requir- 
 ed from the people, the affairs of the kingdom 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 13 
 
 were managed with discretion and popularity. 
 The state of Europe was also at this time auspi- 
 cious to the prosperity of England. 
 
 XVI. The Emperor Maximilian, with a view to 
 secure to his family Burgundy and the Nether- 
 lands, which he held only in right of his wife, 
 courted the alliance of the young king. His ad- 
 vances were favourably received ; for it was thought 
 that Henry VII. had not acted with his usual per- 
 spicacity by acquiescing in the cession of those opu- 
 lent territories to a potentate already the greatest 
 in Christendom ; and that their entire annexation 
 to the dominions of Austria ought still to be re- 
 sisted. Louis XII. of France .was at war with 
 several of the Italian states, and was endeavouring 
 to incorporate with his kingdom Bretaigne, which 
 he had obtained by marriage with the heiress ; a 
 marriage which Henry VII. was equally blamed 
 for having suffered to take place without opposi- 
 tion. Ferdinand of ArrOgan, who, by marrying 
 Isabella of Castile, and by expelling the Moors 
 from Grenada, became sovereign of all Spain, had 
 reasons no less powerful for maintaining an inti- 
 mate alliance with England. His daughter, Ka- 
 therine, was the queen of Henry VIII. The in- 
 ducements which had led to this connexion were 
 strengthened by uncertainties in his political rela- 
 tions with the French king, and by peculiar cir- 
 cumstances in the matrimonial condition of Kathc- 
 
 
14 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 rine. She had been first married to her husband's 
 elder brother. After his death, a questionable li- 
 cense had been obtained from the pope, and under 
 it her second marriage was completed. James IV. 
 of Scotland had married Henry's eldest sister. At 
 the close of the late reign a slight coolness had, 
 however, arisen between the courts of Edinburgh 
 and London, occasioned by the preference which 
 Scotland, according to ancient policy, gave to the 
 views of France ; but no serious hostility was ap- 
 prehended, and the congeniality between the cha- 
 racters of the two monarchs seemed likely to draw 
 them into particular friendship. 
 
 XVII. No schism had yet, to any apparently 
 dangerous extent, disturbed the concord of Christ- 
 endom! 1 Savonarola, who had ventured to attack 
 the enormities of the papal administration of Alex- 
 ander VI. was destroyed at Florence. By his death, 
 the seeds of a reformation, similar to that which 
 afterwards spread with such rapidity in Germany, 
 were in Italy totally exterminated. The inhabi- 
 tants of that branch of the Alps which stretches 
 towards the Pyrenees had, indeed, separated them- 
 selves from the church of Rome ; but they were a 
 simple people, and held little intercourse with the 
 rest of Christendom. In Bohemia a few followers 
 of John Huss and Jerome of Prague preserved 
 rather than asserted their principles. In England, 
 from the days of Wicklifte, many had disliked the 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 15 
 
 Roman pretensions ; but they were in general of 
 humble rank, unconnected, and only united in en- 
 mity against the ignorant and luxurious clergy. 
 
 XVIII. At this period Wolsey was in the 
 thirty-eighth year of his age. Although a priest, 
 he frequented the entertainments of the young 
 courtiers, of which he partook with the gayety of 
 secular freedom. One of his Oxford pupils had 
 succeeded to the marquisate of Dorset, and was an 
 intimate companion of the king. In his company 
 Wolsey probably obtained opportunities of study- 
 ing the temper and inclinations of his royal master, 
 and of recommending himself to his favour by the 
 knowledge of public affairs, which, in the midst of 
 pleasure and dissipation, he dexterously took occa- 
 sion to display. Riches and honours flowed upon 
 him. In the first year of Henry he received a grant 
 of lands and tenements in London, was admitted to 
 the privy council, and appointed almoner. Soon after 
 the king gave him the rectory of Torrington, made 
 him canon of the collegiate church of Windsor, 
 and registrar of the order of the Gaiter. Arch- 
 bishop Bambridge appointed him to be a preben- 
 dary in the cathedral of York, (1512,) where he 
 was soon advanced to the deanery. And the pope, 
 informed of his increasing ascendency over the 
 monarch, allowed him to hold benefices to the 
 amount of two thousand n\erks annually, though 
 consisting of more than three parochial churches, 
 if a precedent for such a dispensation could be 
 
 tfof- 
 
16 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 found in the records of England. But no particu- 
 lar office in the state was committed to his charge 
 until after the French war, (in 1513,) of the origin 
 and principal events of which it may not here be 
 improper to give a brief relation. 
 
 XIX. The restless and turbulent Julius II., in 
 the prosecution of his ambitious temporal designs, 
 had involved himself in continual quarrels with 
 several of the Italian states ; and by his imperious 
 conduct had produced a rebellion even in the con- 
 sistory itself. The cardinals who disapproved of 
 his violence, and whom he had excommunicated^ 
 called a council, which assembled at Tours under 
 the protection of Louis XII. Theyjresolved that 
 the sentence of excommunication against them was 
 void ; and that a monitory message should be sent 
 to the holy father, in the hope of inducing him to 
 act with more moderation and justice. They also 
 agreed that, in the event of their message being 
 contemned, he should be called before a general 
 council. Julius despised their admonition, and 
 treated their message with contempt. They, in 
 consequence, proceeded to give effect to their re- 
 solutions, and summoned him to appear at Pisa. 
 Until this decisive step, Maximilian had sided with 
 the schismatic cardinals ; but, as they had begun 
 to manifest an undue predilection for the interests 
 of France, he availed himself of it, to separate 
 from the confederacy, and to join the pope. 
 
 XX. Julius, in the mean time, finding that the 
 8 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 17 
 
 force which Louis had sent into Italy, for the 
 ostensible purpose of supporting the cause of the 
 cardinals, but in reality to gain conquests for 
 France, was making rapid progress, anxiously en- 
 deavoured to secure the assistance of England. 
 For this purpose, as a mark of high favour, he 
 sent to the king a golden rose, with the papal be- 
 nediction, and a letter, filled with complaints 
 against the unprincipled aggressions of the most 
 Christian king. In this letter he employed every 
 topic of persuasion that he thought likely to influ- 
 ence the young and ardent mind of Henry. He in- 
 voked him by the mercies of Christ, by the merits 
 of his own famous ancestors, and by his duty to the 
 church, to join in the league against the French 
 and cardinals, offering the distinguished honour of 
 declaring him the chief and protector. 
 
 XXI. Independently of the gratification which 
 Henry received from the pope's letter, and the 
 mark of distinction which accompanied it, ambition 
 prompted him to seek an opportunity of signaliz- 
 ing himself. Bearing the title of King of France, 
 he was desirous of asserting the rights which that 
 title implied. Besides personal considerations, 
 there were public and more solid reasons to justify 
 war with France. — Louis heightened the dissen- 
 sion between the pope and the cardinals for his 
 own particular advantage. It was suspected that 
 his enmity to Julius arose from a wish to place a 
 creature of his own in the apostolical chair, and 
 
18 CARDINAL WOLSEY. - 
 
 therefore it was thought not. only pious, but also 
 prudent policy for England to interfere, in order 
 to prevent the violation of the church, and the 
 aggrandisement of her ancient rival, by the acqui- 
 sition of new territories in Italy. The English 
 ministers accordingly (1512) decided on war. An 
 embassy was sent to Louis, requiring him to de- 
 sist from hostilities. He disregarded the request. 
 A herald was then despatched in form, to declare 
 the ancient claims of the English kings to the 
 crown of France, and to demand restitution of 
 Normandy, Guienne, Anjou, and Mayne, as the 
 patrimonial inheritance of Henry. War ensued. 
 The king resolved to invade France in person, in 
 conjunction with Maximilian. The commissariat 
 of the army destined for this great undertaking 
 was committed to Wolsey. The office was cer- 
 tainly little consonant to his profession and former 
 pursuits ; but it was the character of this singular 
 man to be equally fit for every kind of business, 
 and the duty was performed to the satisfaction 
 both of the army and of the king. 
 
 XXII. The forces amounted to fourteen thou- 
 sand men. Being joined by the imperialists, they 
 proceeded to invest Tcrouennc in Artois, a town 
 defended by a deep ditch, bulwarks, and heavy 
 ordnance. The king soon arrived at the earn]), 
 where the emperor, assuming the red cross of St 
 George, in his capacity of a knight of the garter, 
 received a hundred crowns a day as the soldier of 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY 
 
 19 
 
 Henry. Terouennc was not at first so closely 
 invested but that, on the side towards the river 
 Lys, a way was left open by which succours might 
 be thrown in. The French resolved to take ad- 
 vantage of this oversight. Accordingly, Louis, 
 who lay at Amiens with about twenty thousand 
 men, sent forward a large detachment of cavalry ; 
 but before they had reached the scene, the allies 
 had drawn their lines closer, and debarred all 
 access to the town. The French abandoned their 
 enterprise, and retreated. When they thought 
 themselves out of danger, some among them, im- 
 patient of the heat, took off their helmets ; others 
 dismounted from their horses, and the whole fell 
 into a state of disorder that invited surprise. In 
 this condition they were surrounded by a party 
 sent in pursuit of them. Though they boasted of 
 possessing many of the best warriors of France, 
 the rout and confusion became irresistible. The 
 Duke of Longueville, Bayard, Fayette, Clermont, 
 and Bussy d'Ambois, were made prisoners in the 
 pursuit. This singular encounter received the 
 appropriate appellation of the battle of the Spurs. 
 Teroucnne immediately surrendered, and the king, 
 with the emperor as his vassal, made a triumphal 
 entry on the 24th of August 1513. Maximilian 
 then left the army, and Henry, having ordered 
 the fortifications to be destroyed, laid siege to 
 Tournay. Though that town was of no great 
 extent, the peasantry, by flying to it for shelter, 
 
20 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 had increased the population to no less than eighty 
 thousand souls. Famine soon followed ; a capitu- 
 lation was inevitable; and the King of England 
 was speedily admitted to the sovereignty. A new 
 bishop had lately been nominated to the see, but 
 not installed. Henry, conceiving that he had ac- 
 quired by conquest a right to dispose of the bishop- 
 pric, gave it to Wolsey — a proceeding contrary to 
 the rules of the church, and which afterwards oc- 
 casioned much vexation and trouble to them both. 
 XXIII. While the army lay before Terouenne, 
 the lion of Scotland, in his herald's garb, arrived 
 in the camp, and demanded an audience of the 
 king. The purport of this ceremonious message 
 was to obtain reparation for injuries alleged to 
 have been suffered by the Scots, with a provision- 
 ary declaration of war, if satisfaction should be 
 refused. Henry, justly considering that James was 
 instigated to this measure by the French, who 
 were anxious that war should be declared by Scot- 
 land, in order that the English army might be 
 withdrawn from France, to defend the kingdom 
 at home, returned a sharp and reproachful answer. 
 ■• Now," said he to the herald, " we perceive the 
 King of Scots, our brother-in-law, and your mas- 
 ter, to be the same sort of person that we always 
 took him to be. Notwithstanding his oath, his 
 promise on the word of a king, and his own hand 
 and seal, to his perpetual dishonour and infamy, 
 he intends, in our absence, to invade our domi- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 21 
 
 * 
 
 nions, an enterprise which he durst not attempt 
 were we there in person. But he has not degene- 
 rated from the qualities of his ancestors, who, for 
 the most part, ever violated their promises, nor 
 observed their contracts farther than pleased them- 
 selves; therefore tell your master, that he shall 
 never be embraced in any league in which we are 
 a confederate ; and also that, suspecting his inten- 
 tions, and justly, as the deed now shows, we have 
 left behind us one able to defend England against 
 him and all his power. We have provided for 
 this ; and he shall not find our realm so defence- 
 less as he expects. Tell him that we are the very 
 owner of Scotland, which he holds of us by homage ; 
 and since, contrary to his bounden duty as our vas- 
 sal, he presumes to rebel, we shall, at our return, 
 with the help of God, drive him from the king- 
 dom." The herald, astonished and abashed at 
 this lofty and impassioned address, replied, " As 
 the natural subject of King James, I am bound to 
 deliver boldly whatever he commands; but the 
 orders of others I cannot, nor dare I say to my sove- 
 reign. Your highness's letters may declare your 
 pleasure, but I cannot repeat such expi'essions to 
 my king." Henry, assenting to the propriety of 
 the objection, ordered the herald to be entertained 
 according to the usages of chivalry, and summon- 
 ed a council to consider the message of the Scot- 
 tish king, and the answer which it might be ex- 
 pedient to return. The result wa^, a letter, in 
 
22 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 effect the same as the verbal declaration ; and the 
 herald, after receiving a liberal largess, left the 
 camp, and proceeded, by the way of Flanders, to 
 take his passage to Scotland. While he waited 
 for a favourable wind, the fate of his master was 
 consummated in the fatal battle of Flodden — an 
 event which the Scottish nation have never ceased 
 to deplore, in the finest strains of their poetry and 
 music. 
 
 XXIV. The war had commenced by the Earl 
 of Hume crossing the borders with his clan and 
 other forces, to the number of seven or eight 
 thousand men. Sir William Bulmer, who had 
 been apprised of this inroad, posted his troops, in 
 ambush, among the deep broom of Tillfield, and 
 defeated the Scots, as they returned encumbered 
 with booty. Meanwhile, King James was collect- 
 ing the whole power of Scotland ; and the Earl of 
 Surrey, intrusted with the defence of England, 
 marched to Alnwick. The Scottish king approach- 
 ed towards the Cheviot hills, the ancient scene of 
 the hostile exploits of the two nations ; and Surrey, 
 being reinforced, advanced to meet him, where he 
 had encamped on the heights of Flodden. The 
 Scots were greatly superior in numbers to the 
 English, and equal in valour, skill, and discipline. 
 But numbers, and bravery, and skill, weighed light 
 in the balance against the destiny of the Stuarts. 
 For, by one of those extraordinary and infatuated 
 errors so frequent in the history of that unfortu- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 23 
 
 nate family, the king left the high ground, and 
 his army was, in consequence, totally defeated and 
 ruined in the hollow below. Towards the even- 
 ing he was himself discovered fighting, with un- 
 daunted constancy, in the vortex of the battle. 
 His standard was, soon after, struck down. 
 Tossed like a wreck on the waves, it floated and 
 disappeared. Made desperate by inevitable ruin, 
 James rushed into the thickest throng of the spears 
 and arrows, and was never seen to return. Next 
 morning a body was found, which so strongly 
 resembled that of the king, that it was considered 
 as his. Surrey ordered it to be embalmed, and it 
 was sent to the" monastery of Shene ; but, as 
 James had died under a sentence of excommuni- 
 cation, the rites of Christian burial could not be 
 performed without permission from the pope. 
 The news of the victory was communicated to 
 Henry by the Earl of Surrey/ and to Wolsey by 
 Queen Katherine. From her letter, it appears 
 that Wolsey enjoyed the full confidence of his 
 master ; and, therefore, may be regarded as already 
 participating in his intentions, and influencing 
 both the man and the king. 
 
 XXV. The intelligence of this signal triumph 
 was received by Henry with great exultation, at 
 the same time that he was deeply affected by the 
 death of James. He applied immediately to the 
 pope, to revoke the sentence of excommunication, 
 in order that the body might be interred in St 
 
24 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Paul's in London, with the honours and solemni- 
 ties due to the remains of so august and gallant a 
 knight. The dispensation was readily granted ; 
 but doubts arising whether the Scottish king was 
 actually slain in the battle, and it being reported 
 that the body found on the field was not really 
 his, the funeral was never performed. The corpse 
 which Surrey brought from Flodden was seen, 
 long after, lying in a waste room in the monastery 
 to which it had been conveyed. 
 
 XXVI. The Scottish nation, astonished and 
 afflicted by so great a calamity, scarcely made any 
 preparations for the defence of the country ; but 
 the English government had the magnanimity to 
 grant peace without stipulating for any advantage. 
 This unprecedented liberality had the effect of 
 forming a party, among the Scottish chieftains, 
 favourable to England, and averse to the policy 
 which had, for so many ages, involved their 
 country in the projects and misfortunes of France. 
 
 XXVII. After the taking of Tournay, Henry 
 returned home with all that could recommend a 
 sovereign to the affections of a proud and martial 
 people. He had maintained, on the plains of 
 France, the ancient renown of England ; the re- 
 gency had been still more victorious, and the peo- 
 ple, in the full enjoyment of prosperity, exulted at 
 so many proofs of national pre-eminence. 
 
 XXVIII. Soon after the king's return, the 
 bishopric of Lincoln happened to become vacant, 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 25 
 
 and it was given to Wolsey ; who, in taking pos- 
 session, found his wealth augmented by the move- 
 ables of his predecessor. He had been scarcely in- 
 vested with this new honour, when York also be- 
 came vacant, and he was advanced to the archie- 
 piscopal dignity. 1 * 
 
 XXIX. In the mean time, Pope Julius II., the 
 incendiary of Christendom, had died, and was suc- 
 ceeded by the celebrated Leo X. who, with more 
 urbanity of temper, was no less zealous in asserting 
 the pretensions of the church. He opposed the 
 ambition of France with undiminished vigour, and 
 cultivated the friendship of England by the same 
 arts as his predecessor. On ascending the apostolic 
 throne, he consecrated a cap and a sword, and sent 
 them addressed to Henry as the most Christian 
 king.' This title, being peculiar to the French 
 monarchs, was received by Henry as an omen and 
 assurance of ultimate success in establishing his 
 claims to the crown of France. 
 
 XXX. But the conduct of Maximilian and Fer- 
 dinand, in the war, had dissatisfied the English 
 government. Louis, apprized of this change, se- 
 cretly made overtures of peace. The continuance 
 of hostility afforded him, indeed, no prospect of 
 advantage. Two of his principal frontier towns 
 were taken, the flower of his army were prisoners, 
 and the remainder dejected with many defeats. 
 His trustiest confederate, James, was no more ; 
 and the administration of Scottish affairs had de- 
 
26 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 volved on Henry's sister, Margaret, the queen 
 dowager. He was himself old, and unable to un- 
 dergo the fatigue of longer waging war against the 
 three greatest princes in Europe, combined with 
 the pope, who had abandoned him to the ven- 
 geance of all Christendom, as an odious schismatic/ 
 He, therefore, became desirous of reconciliation 
 with his enemies. 
 
 XXXI. The Duke of Longueville, a prisoner in 
 England, was authorised to negotiate with the court 
 of London. Louis being a widower, the overtures 
 commenced by a proposal of marriage for him with 
 Mary, Henry's younger sister. The offer was ho- 
 nourable to the nation, and Wolsey so exerted 
 himself in the negotiation, which was secretly ma- 
 naged, that it was completed before the Spanish 
 and imperial ambassadors were aware of its being 
 even in progress. Henry was allowed to retain 
 Tournay ; was to be paid a million of crowns, ar- 
 rears of tribute due to his father and himself; and 
 his sister was to enjoy a jointure as large as that 
 of any former Queen of France. 
 
 XXXII. The princess, conducted to Paris, was 
 received with every external demonstration of wel- 
 come. In the bloom of life and beauty, Mary 
 united to the spirit of her brother, and her sister 
 Margaret, a delightful and gay irreverence for the 
 ceremonious distinctions of her rank. In the de- 
 cay of old age, Louis, incapable of enjoying the 
 blandishments of his young queen, wa> teased and 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 27 
 
 disturbed by the sallies of her vivacity. The at- 
 tendants, who came with her from England, were 
 dismissed; even the lady who had been recom- 
 mended by Wolsey, to assist her with advice, was 
 not allowed to remain. The revelries, however, of 
 the wedding were scarcely over, when she was re- 
 leased from her bondage by the death of Louis, 
 who was succeeded by Francis I. 
 
 XXXIII. Mary, soon after this event, inform- 
 ed her brother, that, having been once married for 
 policy, she ought now to be allowed to choose for 
 herself; and that, rather than be controlled, she 
 was resolved to become a nun. The Duke of 
 Suffolk was the object of her partiality, and she 
 did not affect to conceal her passion. He had been 
 sent to condole with her on the death of her old 
 husband ; and she told him, unless he resolved to 
 marry her in four days, he should not have a se- 
 cond offer. The attachment seems to have been 
 known in France before the death of Louis ; for 
 Francis, on the day of the duke's first audience, 
 informed him, that it was understood he had come 
 to Paris, in order to marry the dowager. History 
 affords few demonstrations stronger than this of 
 the miserable marriages to which such illustrious 
 personages are subjected. 
 
 XXXIV. A singular incident occurred at this 
 juncture, which served to show the opinion enter- 
 tained among the commonalty of Wolsey's exces- 
 sive influence over the mind of Henry. An en- 
 
28 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 thusiastic friar went from London to Paris, and, 
 obtaining an audience of Mary, told her gravely, 
 it was rumoured in England, that she intended to 
 marry the Duke of Suffolk. " Of all men," said 
 the friar, " beware of him ; for I can assure you, 
 that he and Wolsey have dealings with Satan, by 
 which they rule the king for their own ends."" 
 The marriage, notwithstanding, was speedily so- 
 lemnized ; but Henry was offended at the indecor- 
 ous precipitation of the widow ; his anger was not 
 however, inveterate, for Wolsey easily persuaded 
 him to forgive the gallant presumption of his own 
 particular friend, and the juvenile levity of a fa- 
 vourite sister. 
 
 XXXV. In the forty-fifth year of his age (22d 
 December, 1515,) Wolsey was advanced to the rank 
 of cardinal, and was installed in Westminster Ab- 
 bey, with circumstances of pomp seldom exceeded 
 at the coronations of the kings. About the same 
 time the great seal was given to him for life, with 
 the dignity of chancellor of the realm". 2 Hence- 
 forth he may therefore be regarded as the con- 
 troller of England ; for, although the king ap- 
 peared afterwards, personally, in every important 
 transaction, the cardinal had acquired such an as- 
 cendency, that the emanations of the royal will 
 uere, in fact, but the reflected purposes of the 
 minister. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 When Wolsey was appointed prime minister of 
 England, the affairs of Europe were rapidly ad- 
 vancing towards a new epoch, and society was 
 pregnant with great events. The intercourse 
 among the different nations was every day becom- 
 ing more active and multifarious. Besides the 
 concerns of peace or of war, the interests of com- 
 merce began to press upon the attention of states- 
 men ; venerable doctrines were falling into disre- 
 pute ; and the circulation of knowledge, extending 
 by the art of printing, rendered it no longer possi- 
 ble to misrepresent the effects of political actions. 
 The proclamation of occurrences at the market 
 crosses of the towns, and the promulgation of new 
 laws in the parochial churches, were the only means 
 by which the English people were anciently inform- 
 ed of the proceedings of their government. The 
 conduct of those therefore, who had the manage- 
 ment of public affairs, must have been flagitious 
 indeed, when it was incapable of being disguised. 
 But, at this period, state delinquencies could no 
 
 
30 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 longer be practised with impunity. The press 
 had multiplied the illuminating agents of truth. It 
 was not enough, that the minister should study to 
 please only the sovereign and his parasites : the peo- 
 ple also expected to be gratified, and generally in 
 things obnoxious to the court. This alteration in 
 the ancient system of rule, little as it was at first 
 perceptible, has since, insensibly, obliged the mi- 
 nisters of England to study the will of the nation 
 more than the predilections of the nobles and of 
 the king. 
 
 II. Francis I., with the usual titles of the French 
 monarch, assumed, at his accession, that of Duke 
 of Milan; having a double claim to the duchy, as 
 the heir of the house of Orleans, which had pre- 
 tensions to the inheritance, and as comprehended 
 in the investiture which had been made accord- 
 ing to the treaty of Cambray. Succeeding to the 
 means of asserting his claim, he early resolved to 
 make it good, and to vindicate the glory of France, 
 which had been tarnished by the enterprises of his 
 predecessor. In the prosecution of this design, his 
 success rendered it doubtful, whether England 
 ought to permit the farther aggrandisement of her 
 rival. Frequent rumours also of stratagems for 
 the recovery of Tournay irritated Henry, who 
 was vain of his own conquest, and these were re- 
 garded as the precursors of actual aggression. An 
 
 O I DO 
 
 extraordinary council was, in consequence, sum- 
 moned to deliberate on the state of Christendom, 
 
 2 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 31 
 
 and the existing relations with France ; and Wol- 
 sey opened the business, by recapitulating various 
 causes of complaint which the king had against the 
 conduct of Francis. 
 
 III. Several English vessels have been plunder- 
 ed by the French cruisers, and indemnity, said 
 he, cannot be obtained. Rich property belonging 
 to the king's sister is withheld on evasive pretences. 
 The Duke of Albany has assumed the regency of 
 Scotland, and Francis supports him contrary to an 
 express agreement, and in contempt of the will of 
 the deceased sovereign, by which the queen had 
 been appointed regent ; an appointment confirmed 
 by the pope. The usurpation of Albany is dan- 
 gerous to the king's nephew, James V., for he is 
 suspected of aspiring to the throne, and has induc- 
 ed the nobles to take an oath of allegiance to him- 
 self, inciting them to enmity against England. Nor 
 is the personal conduct of Francis such as becomes 
 the honour of a king. He openly protects Rich- 
 ard de la Pole, a fugitive English traitor. But if 
 all these distinct and palpable grievances be not 
 sufficient to induce England to interfere with the 
 proceedings of France, prudence, prospectively 
 considering the effects of the conquests in Italy, re- 
 quires that their extension should not be permitted. 
 The existing circumstances, however, do not call 
 for actual war. It is not necessary that the blood 
 of England should be shed ; but the French must 
 be compelled to act justly, and to restrain their 
 
32 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 appetite for dominion. — By assisting the pope and 
 emperor with money only, the objects of a wise and 
 anticipating policy will be effectually attained. 
 
 IV. In opposition to the proposal of Wolsey, it 
 was urged, that to recommend the violation of 
 treaties was a strange doctrine. When just causes 
 arise for the dissolution of compacts, the injured 
 party ought to protest against the aggressor, be- 
 fore proceeding to war. If any other course is 
 allowed, the law of nations must be sacrificed, and 
 the dealing of kings become destitute of integrity. 
 The conduct of Francis may have been justly re- 
 presented, but his actions are capable of a different 
 explanation ; and it is necessary, therefore, to ex- 
 amine them with circumspection. He entertains 
 Richard de la Pole generously ; but whether be- 
 cause he is an English traitor, or only a volun- 
 teer seeking employment, seems at least doubt- 
 ful. To his interference with the affairs of Scot- 
 land it is easy to apply an adequate remedy. If 
 Albany be dangerous to the rights of James V. 
 and his mother, let the king protect them ; but 
 seek not, by subsidies, to kindle into fiercer strife 
 those remote wars, of which the issue cannot be 
 known. 
 
 V. The allegations of Wolsey did not justify 
 actual hostilities, but they furnished a sufficient 
 pretext for the measure he proposed. The pope 
 and emperor were apparently unable to resist the 
 progress of the French arms. If Henry showed 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 33 
 
 himself partial to their side, Francis might be in- 
 duced to agree to terms favourable to the indepen- 
 dence for which they contended. The violation of 
 public engagements, by frank or by secret dealing, 
 is undoubtedly contrary to all the theoretical prin- 
 ciples of morality; but the guilt of the govern- 
 ments, whose designs and practices render such 
 violations expedient, is deeper than the delinquency 
 of those whom they provoke to the crime. France 
 had not, perhaps, really transgressed the terms of 
 any existing treaty, but she had so acted, that Eng- 
 land could no longer with safety remain neutral. 
 The duration of national contracts is always con- 
 tingent. The circumstances of a government may 
 become so changed, as to make it virtually no longer 
 the party which originally contracted. If France 
 had acquired dominions, which she did not possess 
 at the time of concluding her treaties with Eng- 
 land, while the condition of England was in no re- 
 spect altered, the jealousy of national independence 
 warranted the English to seek the reduction of the 
 French power. The great, the only duty of go- 
 vernments, is to preserve the interests of their sub- 
 jects ; nor can any alteration arise in the affairs of 
 other states, which they ought to regard with in- 
 difference. — The English counsellors were satisfied, 
 that the relative condition of France and England 
 called for an alteration in the conduct of the latter ; 
 and a system of menacing neutrality was in conse- 
 quence adopted. 
 
34 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 VI. The war in Italy, between the emperor and 
 the French king, was prosecuted with various suc- 
 cess. Maximilian, in order to draw Henry into 
 a more available alliance than the degree of coun- 
 tenance which the council had adopted, proposed 
 that the French should be dispossessed of Milan, 
 and that it should be feudally annexed to the Eng- 
 lish crown. This proposal, like all his schemes, 
 was not without a show of plausibility. He con- 
 ceived that a barrier, for the protection of Italy, 
 would thereby be formed, which France could not 
 afterwards force without incurring the hostility of 
 England. Henry's right to several provinces of 
 France was as indisputable as that of Francis to 
 Milan ; and this scheme seemed to promise a mode 
 of adjusting their respective claims. Maximilian 
 also offered to resign the empire in favour of Hen- 
 ry ; but his character and actions were not calcu- 
 lated to gain confidence. His projects were gen- 
 erally extravagant, and his enterprises never guided 
 by the perseverance and energy requisite to ensure 
 success. The king and the cardinal only listened 
 to the proposition with grave civility, and, there- 
 fore, he sought a reconciliation with Francis. 
 This was the more easily accomplished, as a cru- 
 sade against the Turks was loudly preached 
 throughout Christendom, and the French monarch 
 was represented as the prime cause of all the 
 troubles in the seat and region of the papacy, by 
 which this holy purpose was delayed. It was, in- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 35 
 
 deed, not without rational alarm, that the attention 
 of the Christians was turned towards the aggres- 
 sions of the infidels, and the fierce ambition of the 
 reigning sultan. 
 
 VII. The history of Selim may be comprehend- 
 ed in a few sentences. It consists but of battles 
 and crimes. Understanding that his father de- 
 signed to settle the empire on another son, he re- 
 belled, and, by corrupting the janisaries, obliged 
 him to abandon the throne. To secure his usur- 
 pation he did not scruple to commit parricide. 
 His brother, who had taken up arms against him, 
 was vanquished, and put to death, with all the 
 children of the same maternal stock. He subdued 
 the Aladolites, and, descending from their moun- 
 tains upon Persia, he defeated the sophy, and took 
 possession of Touris. Returning to Constantino- 
 ple, he spent several months in tyranny and pre- 
 parations for new aggressions. His avowed object, 
 was the complete subjugation of Persia, but he 
 suddenly turned upon the soldan of Egypt, — a 
 prince of ancient dignity ; highly venerated by the 
 professors of the Mahommetan faith ; powerful by 
 the opulence of his dominions, and by the military 
 order of the Mamelukes, who had maintained their 
 independence, with great lustre, upwards of three 
 hundred years. 
 
 VIII. The soldanic government was elective ; 
 and none were advanced to the dignity of soldan, 
 but men who had passed through all the grada- 
 
36 CARDINAL VTOLSEY. 
 
 tions of military rank to the rule of provinces, and 
 the command of armies, and who had uniformly 
 proved their valour and wisdom. The Mame- 
 lukes, by whom the soldan was elected, and of 
 whose order he was necessarily a member, were 
 formed from children, originally, chosen for the vi- 
 gour of their appearance, and reared to manhood 
 with frugal diet and the continual exercise of 
 arms. Their number did not exceed eighteen 
 thousand; but such was the excellence of their 
 skill and management, that all Egypt, Syria, and 
 many of the neighbouring nations, submitted to 
 their sway ; and they had sometimes proved victo- 
 rious over the numerous Ottoman armies. 
 
 IX. Selim subdued this formidable state, and 
 consigned many of the members to ignominious 
 deaths, as if the defence of their independence had 
 been a municipal crime. When he had made him- 
 self master of Cairo, the Christian princes were not 
 alarmed without reason. To vast resources and 
 audacious courage he united an enthusiastic de- 
 sire of transmitting to posterity a heroic name. 
 He had studied the actions of Alexander and of 
 Caesar, and repined at the inferiority of his own 
 exploits. Indefatigable in the improvement of his 
 soldiers, and continually augmenting his navy, 
 Christendom attracted and modified his Bchemes. 
 The rumour of his success, and the dread of his 
 desions, agitated the pontifical court. Prayers re- 
 sounded in all the churches o\' Home. Leo edified 
 
 () 
 
37 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the faith of the populace, by walking barefoot in 
 the processions ; and the aid of human helps and 
 means was solicited directly, as well as by the 
 agency of the saints. 
 
 X. Briefs were addressed to all Christian 
 princes, admonishing them to lay aside their par- 
 ticular quarrels, and, with united hearts and hands, 
 to carry war into the dwelling of the infidel. Con- 
 sultations were held with travellers acquainted with 
 the provinces, with the dispositions of their inha- 
 bitants, and the forces of the Turkish empire ; and 
 a wide and general arrangement of all the array of 
 Christendom was planned, and communicated to 
 the governments of the different states subject to the 
 papal domination. The emperor, with the horse 
 and foot of his dominions, was to proceed by the 
 Danube, and through Bosnia, towards Constanti- 
 nople. The French king, with the armies of 
 France, Venice, and the other Italian states, ac- 
 companied by the Helvetic infantry, was to trans- 
 port himself from Brindisi to Greece, — a country 
 full of Christians impatient to revolt from the sul- 
 tan. The kings of Spain, Portugal, and England, 
 uniting their fleets at Carthagena, were to sail di- 
 rectly to the Dardanelles, while the pope, in per- 
 son, proceeded from Ancona, to join the forces as 
 they invested Constantinople. Against such a co- 
 alition there was good cause to hope that Selim 
 would be unable to defend himself ; and a crusade, 
 thus intended to cover the sea and land, could not 
 
 
38 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 fail to have a speedy and triumphant end. In the 
 meantime, a tax was levied on all Christians, and 
 voluntary contributions were earnestly solicited to 
 promote the undertaking. 
 
 XI. Preparatory to the execution of this great 
 project, Leo enjoined a truce, on all his secular 
 vassals, for five years, under penalty of the most 
 grievous censures ; and cardinals, of distinguished 
 address, in order to further the business, were ap- 
 pointed legates to the different courts. Campeg- 
 gio was sent to London. But he was informed at 
 Calais, that he must remain there until Cardinal 
 Wolsey was joined with him in the commission. 
 This obstacle being removed by compliance, he 
 landed in England. As his retinue was mean, and 
 himself not opulent, Wolsey sent him twelve mules, 
 and a quantity of scarlet cloth, in order that the 
 pomp of his entrance into the metropolis might, in 
 some degree, correspond with the importance at- 
 tached to his mission. The rational few may ri- 
 dicule the artifices of ostentation ; but the numer- 
 ous commonalty cannot easily conceive that mag- 
 nificence does not possess an intrinsic moral value ; 
 nor how things, on which their superiors in know- 
 ledge bestow so much attention ought not to de- 
 serve respect. In every town through which 
 Campcggio passed he was greeted with great ve- 
 neration. On Blackheath he was met by a train 
 of prelates, nobles, and gentlemen. The clergy of 
 London received him in the borough with all their 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 39 
 
 processional paraphernalia. The livery of Lon- 
 don lined the streets ; the Lord Mayor and Alder- 
 men humiliated themselves before him; and Sir 
 Thomas More, in the name of the city, welcomed 
 his arrival in a Latin oration. Such expressions 
 of devotion to the pontifical government afforded 
 Campeggio the highest delight. But, unfortu- 
 nately, as the procession passed through Cheapside, 
 a mule became restive, and threw the whole pa- 
 geantry into confusion. The trunks and coffers, 
 which had been covered with the scarlet gift of 
 Wolsey, and which the people piously imagined 
 were filled with precious presents to the king, and 
 pardons and indulgences for all their own sins, 
 were thrown down, and, bursting open in the fall, 
 discovered a ludicrous collection of the crumbs and 
 scraps of beggary. This unexpected disclosure of 
 ecclesiastical imposition turned the whole triumph 
 of the day into contempt ; and Campeggio, as he 
 proceeded towards the palace, was a mortified ob- 
 ject of scorn and derision. The motives of his 
 mission were also rendered abortive by the death of 
 Selim. The immediate cause of danger being re- 
 moved by this event, the projected crusade was 
 abandoned, and the Christian potentates turned 
 their thoughts again to the modes and means of 
 overreaching each other 
 
 XII. The imperial dignity had hitherto been 
 greater in name and title, than in substance and 
 effect ; but nature and fortune seemed combining, 
 
40 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 at this juncture, to realize all its claims and pre- 
 tensions to supremacy. Maximilian was far ad- 
 vanced in life, and the settlement of the empire oc- 
 cupied his thoughts. Charles, his grandson, had 
 succeeded to the crown of Spain. By raising him 
 to the imperial dignity, a larger extent of dominion 
 would be subjected to the control of the Austrian 
 family, than any monarch had enjoyed since the 
 removal of the Roman government to Constanti- 
 nople; for, with his hereditary kingdoms, this 
 young prince had succeeded to a new world. 
 Maximilian, with this view, began to canvass the 
 electors. Francis perceived that the union of the 
 Spanish and Imperial powers would be highly dan- 
 gerous to his kingdom ; and therefore, in order 
 either to oppose the election of Charles to the em- 
 pire, or to assist in the wars that were likely to 
 arise in the event of his success, he endeavoured to 
 gain the friendship of Henry. 
 
 XIII. The French nation has always had the 
 sinister wisdom to employ personal inducements in 
 their diplomatic transactions ; by which, though 
 they may not have as uniformly succeeded in cor- 
 rupting the integrity of those with whom they 
 dealt, they have, generally, obtained many national 
 distinctions, which are better estimated by the feel- 
 ings than by the judgment of mankind. Francis, 
 aware of the ascendency that Wolsey had acquired 
 over his master, was persuaded of the advantage 
 that might arise from obtaining his favour. For 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 41 
 
 this purpose, he sent to London the admiral of 
 France ; a man of excellent address, who was not 
 long in making an agreeable impression on the 
 mind of the cardinal. He adroitly lamented that 
 his master had lost the friendship of so eminent a 
 person; and the flattery of such advances, from 
 so great a monarch, had their due effect. To se- 
 cure Wolsey still more decidedly to his interest, 
 Francis affected to consult him concerning the va- 
 rious emergencies of his affairs. Henry was ac- 
 quainted with the process of this secret adulation ; 
 but it only served to convince him of the superior 
 talents of his minister. " I plainly discover," said 
 the king to him, " that you will govern both 
 Francis and me." 
 
 XIV. The first effects of this diplomatic adula- 
 tion was a league between England and France. 
 The principles on which it was founded, and the 
 objects it embraced, served as the basis of the ge- 
 neral treaties of the English government for a 
 long period. The treaty itself may be regard- 
 ed as one of the fundamental statutes of that 
 great code, which, till the a?ra of the French 
 revolution, constituted the laws and constitu- 
 tion of the community of the European nations. 
 It was enacted, if the expression may be used, 
 that, between the two sovereigns, their successors, 
 and subjects, perfect peace and amity, by sea and 
 land, should subsist ; and that they should be the 
 friends of the friends, and the enemies of the ene- 
 
42 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 mies, of one another. All their respective allies 
 were included in the league. It was declared, 
 that if the dominions of either of the principal con- 
 tracting parties should be at any time invaded, the 
 aggressor should be required, by the other, to de- 
 sist, and make reparation ; which, if he refused to 
 do within the space of a month from the date of 
 the admonition, the confederates were to declare 
 war against him. Should rebellions arise in any of 
 their respective states, none of the confederates 
 were to interfere, unless foreign princes had been 
 the cause ; in which case their forces were to be all 
 united against the aggressor. It was also declared, 
 that none of the^confederates should suffer their sub- 
 jects to bear arms against the others, nor retain fo- 
 reign troops in their service ; and that all fugitives 
 accused of high treason should not be received 
 within their respective territories, but that after 
 twenty days" 1 warning they should be obliged to 
 depart. 
 
 XV. The object of this league was to preserve 
 the then relative state of the different nations, and 
 to anticipate the consequences that might ensue by 
 the election of Charles to the empire ; but it is 
 chiefly worthy of notice as being an alteration in 
 the constitution of Christendom. For the pope 
 was admitted a party, and thereby became amen- 
 able to a secular tribunal constituted by the mem- 
 bers of the confederation : nor could he violate his 
 engagements to them, without becoming subject to 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 43 
 
 the penalties and forfeitures which were provided 
 to ensure stability to the league. This was the 
 first grand political error of the pontifical govern- 
 ment ; and from this epoch the power of the pa- 
 pacy has continued to decline. Charles and Maxi- 
 milian, as well as Leo X., having acceded, Henry 
 naturally became the arbiter in the disputes that 
 afterwards arose among the confederates. Secure 
 in his insular dominions, he was not immediately 
 exposed to their conflicts, and could only be indi- 
 rectly affected by the continental revolutions. The 
 effects, therefore, of this important measure were, 
 under the management of Wolsey, calculated to 
 exalt the dignity of England, and to render her the 
 arbitrator of the neighbouring states. 
 
 XVI. Besides the general league, a treaty of 
 affinity and alliance was at the same time negotiated 
 between Henry and Francis. The French had 
 never ceased to grudge the loss of Tournay ; — 
 schemes to recover it occupied their minds ; and in 
 these negotiations the restitution formed a primary 
 topic ; nor was it untimely introduced. The ex- 
 pense of the fortifications began to be felt in the 
 exchequer; and the bishop-elect had appealed to the 
 pope against his dispossession by Henry, and the 
 preference which the king had given to Wolsey. 
 Either by the secret influence of France, or the 
 negligence of the English minister at Rome, he 
 obtained a bull, authorising him to use coercive 
 means, and to claim the aid of the inhabitants to 
 
44 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 accomplish his installation. Henry was justly in- 
 censed when he heard of this, and wrote to his min- 
 ister at the papal court in terms of unsparing re- 
 proach against Leo. " The bull," said he, " is 
 an exorbitant grant, and the pope may very well 
 think, that neither I, nor my officers, soldiers, nor 
 subjects, will obey processes and sentences contrary 
 to justice. The bull is contrary to the laws of 
 God and man, and justice and reason, and it is a 
 great dishonour to the pope to have acted so in- 
 discreetly. 11 This curious letter, though composed 
 in the exuberant style of the cardinal, appears, by 
 the fierceness of the expressions, to have been dic- 
 tated by the king himself. It is also a satisfactory 
 voucher, that there existed weighty political rea- 
 sons for the restoration of Tournay, without the 
 necessity of supposing with the contemporary his- 
 torians, who had not access to the state-papers, 
 that Wolsey was bribed. Henry had, it is true, 
 intended to keep Tournay as a perpetual trophy 
 of his campaign, but subsequent events seemed 
 tending to make it the cause of controversies de- 
 rogatory to his dignity. To get rid of it without 
 compromising his honour was therefore judicious 
 policy ; but the real motives of the resolution 
 could not, with propriety, be stated to the public ; 
 and those which the cardinal assigned were certain- 
 ly not satisfactory. He represented, that Tournay 
 lay so far from Calais, that in war it would be dif- 
 ficult to keep the communication open. Being 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 45 
 
 situated on the frontiers of France and the Nether- 
 lands, it was exposed to the assaults of both. The 
 inhabitants were insubordinate and averse to the 
 English, so that, even in peace, a large garrison 
 was necessary to preserve it, and the expense was 
 greater than the utility and value of the place. 
 A treaty was in consequence concluded, by which 
 it was agreed, that Tournay should be restored to 
 France, and the princess of England, Mary, held 
 as betrothed to the dauphin. The city was given 
 as her dowry ; and as Henry had made expensive 
 additions to the citadel, Francis engaged to pay 
 him six hundred thousand crowns, in twelve yearly 
 payments. It was also stipulated, that a pension 
 of twelve thousand livres should be granted to 
 Wolsey, as an equivalent for the revenues of the 
 bishopric, which he agreed to resign. And to 
 ensure the faithful performance of these engage- 
 ments, Francis contracted to give eight noble hos- 
 tages, and to recall the Duke of Albany from Scot- 
 land, where his presence was disagreeable to Henry. 
 It was likewise arranged, that the courts of France 
 and England should, next year, hold a friendly 
 meeting on the plains of Picardy. 
 
 XVII. When this treaty was ratified, the car- 
 dinal gave orders to the officers at Tournay, to 
 sell the provisions and the materials which had 
 been collected for the new fortifications. He en- 
 joined them to put all things in good order, that 
 when the French commissioners arrived, the city 
 
46 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 might be resigned without suspicion of indirect 
 dealing. He also commanded all vagabonds to be 
 put out of the town, and every man to discharge 
 his debts ; thus maintaining the national integrity, 
 by fulfilling the engagements undertaken for the 
 public, and enforcing the performance of individual 
 contracts. Nor was he negligent of his own pri- 
 vate rights ; he employed an honest priest to col- 
 lect the arrears of the episcopal income, and the 
 business was managed with mercantile sagacity. 
 The disregard of pecuniary concerns is some- 
 times an infirmity, often one of the many affecta- 
 tions of genius ; but contempt for trifles is very 
 different from the anxious particularity of avarice, 
 and the negligence that entails privations. No 
 man can be dishonoured by the strict administra- 
 tion of his personal affairs, but the neglect of them 
 is both shameful and injurious. The plea of pub- 
 lic employment should not screen him from the 
 imputation of private delinquency. 
 
 XVIII. In the beginning of the year 1519, died 
 Maximilian, who, by his bustling projects, had so 
 long wasted the strength of the empire in fruitless 
 wars. His intrigues for securing the succession to 
 Charles were not complete. Francis, therefore, 
 immediately declared himself also a candidate for 
 the vacant throne, openly professing himself the 
 rival of the Spanish king. " It is honourable to 
 both," said Francis, " to desire an increase of dig- 
 nity. Let neither, therefore, suppose himseJf 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 47 
 
 wronged by the pretensions of the other, but, like 
 two young lovers, emulous for a lady's favour, 
 strive each, in his own way, to recommend himself. 
 
 XIX. Francis was then in the £9th year of his 
 age, gallant, ingenuous, and accomplished. He 
 was formed to command the affections of a polish- 
 ed people ; but a degree of self-willed impetuosity, 
 and a libertine disregard of engagements, blemish- 
 ed these amiable qualities. In his transactions as 
 a sovereign, more feeling, rivalry, and personal 
 profligacy appeared, than is usually met with in 
 the conduct of kings. His opponent, Charles, 
 was in many respects different, and in natural 
 endowments his inferior. His mind was sedate 
 and reflecting, more embued with the sinister pru- 
 dence of private life, than with the magnanimity 
 which should dignify a monarch. He was at this 
 time only nineteen, but his head was cool and 
 wary ; and he already practised artifice by the 
 suggestions of natural propensity, with the ease 
 and confidence of a, statesman grown hoary in dis- 
 simulation. Not only sordid in making bargains, 
 he always endeavoured to obtain remote advant- 
 ages unperceived by those with whom he dealt. If 
 Francis sometimes found himself over-reached, 
 and refused to fulfil his treaties, Charles was as 
 often obliged to sustain the self-wounding sting of 
 disappointed cunning. 
 
 XX. The conduct of Henry towards the two 
 rivals is involved in some degree of obscurity, 
 
48 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 The policy of England from this period, and dur- 
 ing the remainder of Wolsey^ administration, 
 varied so often and so suddenly, that contemporary 
 historians found it easier to accuse the cardinal of 
 being alternately bribed by the Imperial and 
 French courts, than to comprehend the scope of 
 his views. It is the fate of statesmen to be de- 
 nied the respect due to their merits, until their 
 plans are surveyed from the heights of posterity ; 
 but the hope of obtaining justice at last enables 
 the man, conscious of great purposes, to persevere 
 in his course, undismayed by the clamours of the 
 multitude, malice of tyrants, and the commo- 
 tions and anarchies of the world. When the Kings 
 of France and Spain became competitors for the 
 Imperial crown, their respective qualifications could 
 not but render it difficult to determine what system 
 the English government ought to pursue. The 
 union of France with the empire would constitute 
 a power destructive to the independence of other 
 nations. The hereditary dominions of Charles add- 
 ed to the empire would form a more extensive 
 monarchy, but less compact than the other ; for 
 Spain was shaken with intestine war, and Hungary 
 exposed to the menaces of the Turks. The doubt- 
 ful balance in the English councils settled in fa- 
 vour of Charles ; but so lightly, that it was easily 
 disturbed. Wolsey could only endeavour to ren- 
 der his master arbiter to the rival kings, by some- 
 times favouring the one, and sometimes the other; 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 49 
 
 seldom acting as the decided friend of either. In 
 the subsequent wars, when Charles or Francis al- 
 ternately gained the ascendency, Henry sided with 
 the loser, and the weight of England restored the 
 equilibrium of power. 
 
 XXI. Charles was elected emperor, and Fran- 
 cis, notwithstanding the gallantry of his profes- 
 sions, could not disguise his chagrin. The pains 
 of mortification felt like the wounds of injury. 
 Though only disappointed, he acted as if he had 
 been wronged. The advantages of his alliance 
 with Henry were duly estimated, and he spared 
 neither flattery, presents, nor promises, to cement 
 the friendship of Wolsey. He empowered him to 
 arrange the formalities of the great meeting of the 
 courts of France and England,— an event contem- 
 plated by Charles with apprehension, and the 
 effects of which he endeavoured to anticipate, by 
 previously visiting Henry while he lay at Canter- 
 bury, preparatory to his passing over to Calais. 
 The king was secretly apprised of the imperial 
 visit ; indeed it had been undertaken at the sug- 
 gestion of the cardinal, who, having been solicit- 
 ed to frustrate the interview with the French so- 
 vereign, said, that he thought Charles might come 
 himself, and discuss the business with Henry. 
 
 XXII. About ten o'clock at night, the emperor, 
 under his canopy of state, landed at Dover with 
 the Queen of Arragon, and his principal no- 
 bility. He was welcomed on the shore by the 
 
 
 
50 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 cardinal, and conducted to the castle. The min- 
 gled blaze of torches, arms, and embroidery, bright- 
 ened the faces of a vast multitude, as he ascended 
 the heights ; and the flashing of the ordnance from 
 the battlements, afforded, at short intervals, a mo- 
 mentary view of the cliffs below, and the English 
 and Imperial navies at anchor. Henry, informed 
 of his arrival, hastened to meet him, and next 
 morning they proceeded together to Canterbury, 
 at that time one of the finest cities in England. 
 The cathedral contained the relics of the audacious 
 Becket, and was famed through all Christendom 
 for its riches. In every place it was illuminated 
 with the lustre of precious stones ; and the shrine 
 of the papal champion was so embossed with 
 jewels, that gold was the meanest thing about it. 
 The cardinal and the clergy received the king and 
 the emperor at the gates, and led them to the 
 church where mass was performed, and fresh riches 
 added to that immense treasure, which the devout 
 folly of ages had heaped together. Charles was 
 afterwards introduced to the queen, his aunt. 
 His constitutional gravity was noticed at the even- 
 ing banquet, and flatteringly ascribed to the ap- 
 pearance of the Dowager of France, the wife of 
 Suffolk, then the most beautiful and sprightly wo- 
 man of the age, and to whom it had been at one 
 time proposed that Charles should be affianced. 
 After enjoying three days of revelry, and having 
 obtained a promise that Henry would not enter 
 
 8 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 51 
 
 into any engagement with Francis prejudicial to 
 him, he sailed from Sandwich for Flanders on the 
 same day that the English court passed from Do- 
 ver to Picardy. It has been alleged that Charles, 
 during his visit, endeavoured to acquire the favour 
 of Wolsey, by promising his influence to procure 
 him the papacy ; but no serious effect could be 
 expected from such a promise if it was made, for 
 Leo X. was in the prime of life, and many years 
 younger than the cardinal. 
 
 XXIII. The meeting of the courts of France 
 and England is the most sumptuous event in the 
 records of magnificent spectacles. The two kings 
 were in the flower of life ; the attendants were se- 
 lected from the most famous and high-born of the 
 rival nations ; and such was the profusion of riches, 
 emulously exhibited, that the place of meeting, 
 between Ardres and Guisnes, has since continued 
 to be called the field of gold. Temporary palaces^ 
 exceeding in splendour the regular abodes of the 
 monarch, were prepared in England, and carried 
 to the scene. The walls of the chambers and gal- 
 leries were hung with costly arras, and the chapel 
 was adorned with every thing that could increase 
 the gorgeous ritual of popery. The French king 
 inhabited pavilions of golden tissue, lined with 
 blue velvet embroidered with the lilies of France, 
 and fastened with cords of silk, entwisted with 
 Cyprian gold. — But kings, by their greatness, as 
 
52 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 well as by their duties, cannot long continue to- 
 gether. The prodigal pomp of Henry and Francis 
 lasted only fourteen days. No political discussion, 
 of influential consequence, took place. The inter- 
 view was only the final and collective exhibition of 
 those pageants of chivalry, which had so long in- 
 terested the admiration of Christendom. A treaty 
 was, indeed, concluded, but it only declared that 
 Francis, after discharging the outstanding debt, 
 due from France to England, should yearly pay 
 at Calais, one hundred livres, until the marriage 
 between his son and the daughter of Henry was 
 solemnized. This was, probably, a kind of feuda- 
 tory acknowledgment, personally to Henry, for it 
 was to continue payable throughout his lifetime. 
 It was also agreed, that the differences relative to 
 Scotland should be left to the arbitration of the 
 cardinal and the mother of Francis. Although 
 this treaty is the only documentary evidence of 
 business, the interview afforded opportunities for 
 studying the characters of the French statesmen, 
 highly important to such a man as Wolsey. He 
 never afterwards appears to have trusted the go- 
 vernment of Francis, or to have considered France 
 fit. to be allied to England, except when she was 
 in a reduced condition, and when there was some 
 chance that necessity, and the prospect of advan- 
 tage, would ensure fidelity. 
 
 XXIV. Before returning home, Henry visited 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 53 
 
 the emperor at Gravellines ; and Charles, next 
 day, with his aunt Margaret, regent of the Nether- 
 lands, returned this courtesy to the English court 
 at Calais, where the shows of the field of gold were 
 renewed with new decorations. An amphitheatre, 
 eight hundred feet in compass, which was con- 
 structed for the occasion, deserves particular men- 
 tion, as a proof of the taste and splendour of the 
 age. The ceiling was painted in imitation of the 
 fabrics of antiquity, and, like them, it was adorn- 
 ed with statues and pictures. But the tilts and 
 masques were interrupted by a furious storm, 
 which extinguished above a thousand of the can- 
 dles, and defaced the thrones prepared for the 
 princes. — During this visit, Henry endeavoured 
 to persuade Charles to accede, as emperor, to the 
 league of London, to which he was already a party, 
 in his capacity as King of Spain. But, whether 
 already contemplating the amount of his means, 
 and wishing to be considered as free, or really re- 
 garding his former accession as sufficient, admits 
 of controversy. Procrastination was one of Charles's 
 maxims; and, on this occasion, he could avoid, 
 without refusing, the proposition. In the end, 
 however, he consented that his first accession should 
 remain obligatory on him as emperor. 
 
 XXV. It is of little importance to inquire on 
 what pretexts Francis and Charles engaged in 
 those terrible wars, which so long after laid waste 
 their dominions, and afflicted their subjects. The 
 
54 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 cause was their personal rivalry. The fervent 
 propensities of the French king instigated him to 
 be the aggressor. He meditated revenge for the 
 success of Charles in the election ; he was ambi- 
 tious of renown ; he saw his kingdom circum- 
 scribed and invested by the jurisdiction of the man 
 who had overtopped his destiny ; and he could not 
 refrain from war. But the league of London 
 made it expedient, that he should not appear to 
 be the first to violate the peace ; for, in that case, 
 the King of England and his allies would be 
 obliged to assist the emperor. There were, how- 
 ever, in the situation of Charles, allurements to 
 hostilities which Francis could not withstand. 
 
 XXVI. On the same day that Charles was 
 crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, Soliman was inaugu- 
 rated at Constantinople ; and, in the astrological 
 account of the time, it was remarked, that they 
 had a similar ascendant. For Charles was the 
 eleventh emperor from Albert, in whose time the 
 dominion of the Ottomans commenced, and Soli- 
 man was the eleventh sultan of that race. The 
 French government, from the ambition and activity 
 of Soliman, expected that he would afford ample 
 employment to the German forces. The Spa- 
 niards, uneasy at the promotion of their king to 
 the imperial dignity, aware that, in consequence, 
 his residence would rarely be among them, became 
 discontented. Foreigners, to the exclusion of 
 natives, had been promoted to offices in the state; 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 55 
 
 and, like aliens in all nations, they studied only 
 their own advantage.' When Charles departed 
 to be crowned emperor, the people openly rebelled, 
 assembled the junta to redress their grievances, 
 and prepared to defend themselves and the rights 
 of their country against the foreigners, but with- 
 out renouncing their allegiance to the king. Francis, 
 actuated by revenge, by hope, and by the tempta- 
 tion of these circumstances, sent an army into 
 Navarre. Charles claimed the interference of 
 Henry, according to the terms of the League; 
 and an embassy was, in consequence, sent from 
 London, by which Francis was required to desist 
 from hostilities. The invasion of Navarre proving 
 disastrous, he complied ; but war had commenced, 
 and the emperor finding his means equal, at least, 
 to his difficulties, was not disposed to lay aside his 
 arms. Francis, therefore, in his turn, as a mem- 
 ber of the League, also appealed to England, and 
 stated, that he could not avoid war, as the Impe- 
 rial armies were constantly augmenting. The 
 king answered, that he had resolved to remain 
 neutral in the quarrel ; but offered to act as um- 
 pire; for which purpose, if Charles and Francis 
 would send plenipotentiaries to Calais, Wolsey 
 should meet them there, and act in his name, as 
 arbiter. This proposal was accepted ; and the 
 cardinal went to the place appointed. 
 
 XXVII. Before the congress was opened, the 
 
 
56 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 cardinal visited the emperor at Bruges. Charles 
 received him, in person, about a mile from the 
 town, and entertained him thirteen days as the 
 vicegerent of the English king. Every night his 
 livery was served by the officers of the emperor 
 with an entertainment, which consisted of caudles, 
 wine, sugar, and manchet, differing little in its 
 circumstances and jollity from the ancient custom 
 of welcoming the new year. Wolsey, at all times 
 susceptible of the flattery of honourable treatment, 
 could not but feel himself gratified ; and his neces- 
 sary acknowledgments of politeness were interpret- 
 ed by the French as proofs of his disposition to 
 comply with the wishes of the emperor. 
 
 XXVIII. The first point to determine was, which 
 of the sovereigns began the war, for the King of 
 England was bound to aid the injured. Wolsey 
 could not but consider Francis as the aggressor. 
 The minister of Charles, accordingly, made pro- 
 posals not calculated to be accepted. The French 
 also offered terms equally inadmissible. After 
 spending ten days in fruitless altercation, the 
 cardinal declared, that he saw no way of recon- 
 ciling the parties. Francis, indeed, though he had 
 appealed to Henry, and consented that Wolsey 
 should be the arbiter, had really no wish to remain 
 at peace. For even while the congress was sitting, 
 he permitted the Duke of Albany to depart lor 
 Scotland ; although he was bound, by promise 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 51 
 
 and treaty, not to connive at any of his proceed- 
 ings, which were held to be adverse to the interests 
 of Henry's sister and her family. 
 
 XXIX. Having failed to adjust the difference 
 between the rival monarchs, the cardinal, acting 
 upon the principles of the great League of Lon- 
 don, proposed and concluded a treaty conducive 
 to a crusade, which was then projected in order to 
 draw the minds of mankind from various anticle- 
 rical notions, by which they began about this time 
 to be influenced. And because no expedition 
 could be undertaken against the Turk, until the 
 pride of France was repressed, the pope, the 
 emperor, and the King of England, agreed to the 
 following articles. When Charles passes to Spain, 
 Henry shall give him convoy through the channel, 
 with leave to land in England, and honourable 
 entertainment while he remains there. When 
 Henry passes to Picardy, Charles shall 3 in requital, 
 do similar service. If, before the end of the cur- 
 rent year, peace be not established between the 
 pope, the emperor, and the French king, or if the 
 French king begin the war afresh, Henry shall, on 
 the arrival of Charles in England, declare himself 
 against Francis. In this event, the English fleet, 
 having conveyed the emperor to Spain, shall return 
 and harass the coasts of France ; and the pope 
 shall send forth his curse, and incite the secular 
 arm of the Christians against Francis. Between 
 Charles, Henry, Leo, and the Medici family, with 
 
58 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 their several confederates, a reciprocity of protec- 
 tion shall be undertaken. And, in order that they 
 may avail themselves, as well as the French, of the 
 mercenaries of Switzerland, it was agreed, that 
 the inhabitants of the Alps should be permitted to 
 remain neutral. The secular contrahents under- 
 took to maintain the papal pretensions within their 
 respective territories, and within any conquests 
 that they might obtain during the war. When 
 the ambition of France is curbed, the Turk shall 
 be attacked ; and no treaty shall, in future, be 
 signed by any of the contrahents prejudicial to the 
 League of London. It was also agreed that, 
 although the Princess of England was betrothed 
 to the Dauphin of France, yet, for the public 
 good of Christendom, she might be married to the 
 emperor ; and the pope consented to dispense 
 with the obstacles of their affinity. Before the 
 ratification of this treaty the pope suddenly died. 
 
 XXX. Few men have attained to so much fame 
 by so little effort as Fope Leo X. His station, 
 equanimity, and affable demeanour would, without 
 talent, have secured him the admiration of man- 
 kind ; yet his mental endowments were such as, 
 without the factitious aids of rank and manner, 
 might have ensured the respect of the wise and the 
 esteem of the virtuous. But indolence overgrew 
 his nobler faculties, and induced such a poverty of 
 moral honour, that he died an object of pity 
 to the good, and of contempt to the profligate 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 59 
 
 His private life was disgraced by sensuality, 
 which the incense of poetical adulation has veiled. 
 His public conduct was stained by crimes ; 
 but their hideousness seems diminished by the 
 elegance with which they have been recorded. 
 His reign was glorious to Italy, and memorable 
 to the world ; bu t the halo around it is the 
 lustre of the genius of others. It was his destiny, 
 however, to appear at an important epoch, and he 
 will always be regarded as the harbinger of the 
 great intellectual day. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 It is the peculiar quality of true ambition to urge 
 its subjects to make themselves illustrious by noble 
 actions. The love of distinction alone is but a pe- 
 rishable vanity, and without benevolence, the pas- 
 sion of adding kingdom to kingdoms is avarice, 
 and the achievements of conquerors are crimes of 
 the same genus as theft. The fame of no states- 
 man can be long venerated, unless connected 
 with institutions of utility. Nor is success always 
 the criterion of merit, nor essential to reward ; for 
 sometimes the motives, as seen in the means of en- 
 terprise, so unequivocally indicate honourable in- 
 tentions, that renown follows even failure and de- 
 feat. In the biography, therefore, of eminent men, 
 the peculiar qualities of their ambition should be 
 carefully scrutinized, in order to determine, what- 
 ever their pretensions may have been, or their con- 
 temporaneous popularity, whether they are en- 
 titled to the respect of posterity, or ought to be 
 classed with those ephemeral characters, who, in 
 the applause which followed the fret and strut in 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 61 
 
 their own time, obtained the full measure of hon- 
 our due to their deserts. 
 
 II. In the age of Leo X., the church had, in 
 England, as elsewhere, attained the extremes of 
 her prosperity and power. Her sins and her luxu- 
 ries could not be exceeded, nor longer endured. 
 The monasteries, exempted from regal and episco- 
 pal jurisdiction, and possessing, generally, the pri- 
 vilege of sanctuary, their inhabitants did not lan- 
 guish for the want of any species of voluptuous 
 enjoyment. The doctrine of purgatory supplied 
 them with ample resources. The mortmain laws 
 but feebly restrained the profusion of post-obit 
 diety. To prevent the total alienation of the lands 
 to the priesthood, primogenitureship, entails, and 
 various other pernicious limitations in the descent 
 of property, had been contrived. Blended with 
 the feudal system, these checks on ecclesiastical 
 usurpation became the basis of the laws which still 
 regulate inheritance ; and they are the sources of 
 those peculiar restraints on territorial wealth, by 
 which the claims of creditors, and the operations of 
 equity, are frustrated. The Church, not content 
 with the rich accumulation of legacies, invented 
 the doctrine of the intercession of saints, and the 
 legends of miraculous relics, — the most ingenious 
 means of taxation that power has yet applied, or 
 audacity ventured to impose. Reason and fancy 
 were equally repressed. Sometimes, it is true, the 
 dramas, exhibited in the cathedrals, emitted a feeble 
 ray of poetical genius in the midst of the most ol> 
 
62 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 scure logomachies ; but it only served to make the 
 surrounding darkness visible. 
 
 III. Henry VII., perplexed by the different 
 pretenders to the throne, and particularly by the 
 followers of Perkin Warbeck, taking refuge in the 
 churches and abbeys, applied to Julius II. for a 
 bull to corect the abuse of sanctuary in England. 
 His holiness, solicitous of the king's friendship, 
 granted the request ; and the bull issued on that 
 occasion is the first on record, by which a limit 
 was put to a general privilege of the church. To 
 disclose the whole turpitude of the ecclesiastical 
 abodes of England, and to propose a system of 
 gradual reformation, was reserved for Cardinal 
 Wolsey. Perceiving that the tendency of opinion 
 might undermine the papal structure, unless effec- 
 tual means were adopted to restrain the licentious- 
 ness of the clergy, he obtained a bull, which con- 
 ferred on him a legatine right to visit all the mo- 
 nasteries of the realm, and to suspend the ponti- 
 fical laws in England at discretion during a whole 
 year. His motive at first for seeking this commis- 
 sion, was to reduce the swarm of monks, who, 
 from the days of the Saxon kings, had continued 
 to multiply. He regarded them as consuming lo- 
 custs, a reproach to the church, and wasteful to 
 the state; and he resolved to convert their habita- 
 tions into cathedrals and colleges, with the view of 
 restoring the clergy to their ancient mental superi- 
 ority. The rumour of an innovation so terrible 
 
CABDINAL WOLSEY. bS 
 
 alarmed all the ecclesiastical orders. Their clamour 
 was loud, incessant, and almost universal. Every 
 levity that the upstart reformer had himself com- 
 mitted was brought before the public, and magni- 
 fied to the utmost ; and, as if it could diminish 
 the worthlessness of his brethren, it was alleged to 
 be little less than monstrous, that a man so prone 
 to the pleasures of life himself, should abridge the 
 sensualities of others. Those who were free from 
 the reprobate inclinations with which the priest- 
 hood were charged in the bull, exclaimed against 
 the generality of the charge, and the criminals 
 were enraged at the prevention and punishment of 
 their infamies. 
 
 IV. By virtue of his commission, Wolsey, as 
 legate, instituted a court, which he endowed with 
 a censorial jurisdiction over the priesthood. It 
 was empowered to investigate matters of con- 
 science, conduct which had given scandal, and ac- 
 tions, which, though they escaped the law, might 
 be found contrary to good morals. The clergy 
 furnished abundant employment to this inquisito- 
 rial institution ; and, as the fines were strictly le- 
 vied, and the awards sternly executed, it enhanced 
 their exasperation against the founder. 
 
 V. The same causes which had induced Wolsey 
 to attempt a reformation in the manners of the 
 English ecclesiastics, had, in other parts of Chris- 
 tendom, been long operating to produce similar 
 effects. From the election of Alexander VI., the 
 
64 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 venality and vices of the pontifical government be- 
 came' notorious ; and the wars which occupied the 
 hearts of the holy fathers from that a?ra, had ex- 
 hausted the papal treasury. Leo X., finding the 
 ordinary revenues of the popedom insufficient for 
 the demands of his political designs and magnifi- 
 cent amusements, had, in order to raise money, 
 recourse to many fraudulent artifices. Among 
 others, he revived those by which Urban II., to- 
 wards the close of the eleventh century, incited 
 Christendom to arm for the recovery of Palestine. 
 His first attempt was rendered abortive by the 
 death of Sultan Selim ; but, as all flesh is prone to 
 the enjoyments of sin, Leo thought that the sale of 
 indulgences would prove a lucrative trade. Auri- 
 cular confession was one of the great secrets, by 
 which the church had attained and preserved her 
 exorbitant domination ; and was rendered com- 
 pletely effectual, by the episcopal appointment of 
 confessors, selected on account of their devotion 
 to the ecclesiastical cause. Sinners often felt the 
 hardship of this regulation, and trembled to reveal 
 the instigations of young desire, and the levities of 
 youthful blood, to an austere and sanctimonious 
 old man. Leo therefore thought that freedom in 
 the choice of confessors would be a great comfort 
 to sinners. Licenses to choose them were accord- 
 ingly sold ; but the measure only tended to facili- 
 tate the progress of schism and apostacy. Those 
 who had begun to suspect the validity of the papal 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 65 
 
 pretensions, and to doubt the efficacy of ecclesiasti- 
 cal mediation, took for their confessors priests who 
 were inclined to their own opinions. The chiefs of 
 the church, in consequence, were neither so early 
 nor so well informed of the propagation of heresy as 
 formerly, and the danger was far advanced before 
 measures could be taken to procure abortion. The 
 horrible outrages on humanity which were after- 
 wards committed only served to make the catholic 
 priesthood of that epoch for ever detestable. 
 
 VI. But although the licenses for choosing con- 
 fessors would have gradually accomplished the di- 
 minution of the antichristian usurpation, it is pro- 
 bable that, without, the conjunction of other more 
 immediately decisive events, the Reformation, 
 which commenced by the secession of Luther, 
 would not have so speedily taken place. The first 
 outcry of that arrogant expounder of the benevo- 
 lent text and precepts of Christianity was directed 
 rather against abuses in the sale of warrants to sin, 
 than against the principle on which they were sold # 
 Even after he had been provoked to assail the pa- 
 pal sacraments, he showed himself still so much 
 inclined to maintain exclusive prerogatives to the 
 clergy, that it may be fairly questioned whether 
 his rebellion against the pope was inspired by re- 
 ligious integrity, or by carnal revenge. Luther 
 belonged to an order of strolling friars, who were 
 employed to sell the indulgences in Germany, but 
 who lost this advantage by a grant which Leo X. 
 
6G CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 made of the profits arising from the sins of Sax- 
 ony, to his sister Maddalen and her husband, a 
 bastard of Pope Innocent VIII. Punishment, 
 among the vulgar, is considered as the proof of 
 guilt ; and things tolerated by statutes and prac- 
 tice are rarely suspected of being wrong. The 
 serviceless pensioners of the Church, the sisters 
 and bastards of her princes and ministers, never 
 conceived that frauds on mankind collectively were 
 of the same degree of moral turpitude as if prac- 
 tised against individuals. Persons who would have 
 repelled with indignation any proposal to over- 
 reach their neighbour, and would have punished, 
 with feelings of just indignation, the practices of 
 vulgar felons, made no scruple of dilapidating, for 
 their own profit, the stock of public wealth. Mad- 
 dalen and Cibo appointed an imprudent agent, who 
 employed the Dominicans instead of the order to 
 which Luther belonged, and they so glutted the 
 market, that the trade of indulgences was ruined 
 for ever. Powers for delivering souls from pur- 
 gatory were openly staked in gaming-houses by 
 the inferior miscreants who acted as brokers for 
 the sister of the holy father ; and indulgences of 
 the most odious description were sold in taverns 
 and bagnios. It was therefore not surprising, that 
 the conscientious as well as the discontented sub- 
 jects of (he pope should openly proclaim the abuses 
 of the apostolical government. The advocates of 
 existing customs exposed in vain the turbulent 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 67 
 
 self-sufficiency of the reformers ; and recalled to 
 remembrance with what constancy of virtue their 
 ancestors had reared and supported that venerable 
 frame of things which a reprobate generation, ac- 
 tuated by a strange phrenzy, was rushing to de- 
 stroy. They forgot that the misconduct of advo- 
 cates never can impair the principles of a cause. 
 But institutions are only improved by the pressure 
 of external compulsion. Reformations may be 
 ascribed to the wisdom of particular men; but 
 they are the effects of remote causes, and extorted 
 because the public will not endure the corruptions 
 that render them desirable. The ecclesiastical ma- 
 chine was rotten. It could no longer perform its 
 wonted functions ; and a new one, suitable to the 
 improved knowledge of the age, was indispensable. 
 The manners of the workmen could neither affect 
 the materials of the old, nor the design of the new. 
 Among the reformers were many virtuous charac- 
 ters; haters of corruption for its own sake, and 
 professors of Christianity for a recompense not of 
 this world ; nor can it be denied that the church 
 of Rome contained many members equally blame- 
 less ; but the plunderers of shrines and the burn- 
 ers of heretics were not of this description. 
 
 VII. By the plan of ecclesiastical reformation 
 which Wolsey adopted, the interference of the 
 people was anticipated in England. His legatine 
 luthority made him head of the church ; and, as 
 chancellor and chief minister, he possessed the effi- 
 
68 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 cient power of the executive government. Hence 
 the Reformation, being undertaken by him, seemed 
 to emanate from the crown ; and the nation was 
 saved from those dreadful tumults which attended 
 the overthrow of popery in other countries, and 
 which, though they were provoked by the bigotry 
 of prelates and statesmen, were not the less crimi- 
 nal against society. The treasures and the costly 
 fabrics of the monks should have reverted to the 
 commonwealth, when their original destination 
 ceased, and the alteration of opinions had super- 
 seded their utility. But the incendiary and selfish 
 proceedings of the fathers of protestantism must 
 be regarded as having been necessary ; and the 
 good resulting from their destructive system has 
 expiated their guilt. The measures pursued by 
 the pope, contrasted with those of Wolsey, show 
 the superiority of the Cardinal's character to much 
 advantage. Leo, instead of endeavouring to amend 
 the errors and vices of the church, punished those 
 who exposed them. But the flames of persecution 
 aided, as it were, the light of truth, and still more 
 .strikingly illuminated the atheistical atrocities of 
 the Vatican. Luther was cited to Rome, sus- 
 pended from preaching, and excommunicated ; but 
 these resolutions only served to magnify his impor- 
 tance, and to interest the people in his fate. The 
 spirit of controversy, in consequence, seized upon 
 all ranks, ages, and sexes, to such a degree, that 
 extraordinary celestial aspects, which happened to 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 69 
 
 be then observed, were alone supposed adequate 
 to produce an effect so general and wonderful ; 
 and it has been remarked^ that while the shrines 
 were broken in Europe, the altars and the idols of 
 Asia and of the ^ew World were also shaken and 
 overthrown. 
 
 VIII. Henry caught the enthusiasm of the age, 
 and Wolsey was ordered to apply to the pope for 
 authority to permit the perusal of Luther's prohi- 
 bited writings to such as desired it, for the purpose 
 of refuting their errors. Leo readily complied ; 
 and, in due season, the king brought forth his 
 book on the seven sacraments, — a work which the 
 clergy, of course, extolled as the most learned un- 
 der the sun. The author was compared to Solo- 
 mon, and magnified for wisdom above all Christian 
 princes that had ever existed. When this royal 
 lucubration was presented to the pope, he made 
 no scruple of saying, that he valued it equal to the 
 works of St Jerome and St Augustine, — nor even 
 at this day may his opinion be questioned ; and, 
 with the concurrence of the consistory, he bestowed 
 on the author the title of Defender of the Faith, 
 as if the truth of the faith required any champion. 
 But though the king, in the management of his 
 argument, may have shown himself an able divine, 
 and superior, as it is said, in the vigour and pro- 
 priety of his style, the force of his reasoning, and 
 the learning of his citations, yet, as the friar ad- 
 dressed himself to the common sense of mankind, 
 
70 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the practical effects of their writings were very dif- 
 ferent. Whether Wolsey actually assisted in the 
 composition of Henry's book is doubtful. That 
 he was acquainted with its progress, and consulted 
 with respect to the execution, is probable. The 
 number and extent of his public trusts certainly 
 formed sufficient employment for all his time ; but 
 as the uncommon elasticity of his mind enabled him 
 to pass at once from one kind of business to an- 
 other with extraordinary facility, he might occa- 
 sionally perform the part of a friendly critic, with- 
 out having tnd any particular share in the regular 
 labour of the work. 
 
 IX. At the death of Leo X., Wolsey aspired to 
 the tiara. How this ambition should ever have been 
 regarded as something very iniquitous is difficult 
 to understand. It is the means used to procure the 
 gratification, and not the passion, which makes 
 ambition criminal. But though he was eminently 
 qualified for the papal dignity, the Italian cardi- 
 nals had strong objections to him on account of his 
 country and character. They regarded all fo- 
 reigners as barbarians, and dreaded to admit into 
 the consistory any person from those distant pro- 
 vinces of Christendom, where Rome was regarded 
 as the asylum of all that was holy, harmless, and 
 undefiled. He had therefore to contend with the 
 impediment arising from this prejudice, and with 
 the two formidable factions, the Imperial and 
 French, which divided the conclave. A still 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 71 
 
 stronger objection, though one that was felt, but 
 could not be discussed, arose from his known en- 
 deavours to curtail the licentiousness of the clergy. 
 But it may be proper to consider, generally, the 
 public circumstances which undoubtedly ministered 
 to prevent his election. 
 
 X. Besides the personal qualification of the can- 
 didates, it was natural for the conclave to consider 
 the political interests which respectively they were 
 likely to affect. Both the French and Imperial 
 factions could not but perceive that the election of 
 Wolsey would tend to form a third party, distinct 
 from theirs. The menaces of the sultan, and the 
 insurgency of the Spaniards, rendered Charles, 
 notwithstanding the geographical extent of his ter- 
 ritories, barely a match for Francis, whose rounded, 
 compact, and populous dominions, enjoyed entire 
 tranquillity. The kingdom of Henry, though 
 scarcely equal to some of the emperor's provinces, 
 was yet, by its insular situation and prosperity, not 
 inferior in the balance of power to either. The 
 elevation of Wolsey to the papacy would there- 
 fore, probably, in the opinion of the cardinals, have 
 given an undue preponderance in favour of Eng- 
 land ; especially if his character was taken into the 
 estimate, and character has always great weight in 
 the estimates of contemporary politicians. His 
 vast pride, that lofty self-confidence which admit- 
 ted of no control, was a topic of detraction through- 
 out all Europe. His country made him obnoxious 
 
 
72 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 to the French and Imperial factions, and his ex- 
 posure of the ecclesiastical corruptions had not 
 rendered him acceptable to the general body of the 
 priesthood. At the death of Leo, it was obviously 
 not the interest of the French to promote a man 
 whose views and principles were inimical to Fran- 
 cis ; and it was more for the advantage of the Im- 
 perialists to choose one of their own party, than 
 such a man as Wolsey. Although opposed to each 
 other, they were united against him. It was, 
 therefore, natural, that, in order to get rid of the 
 Cardinal, and since they could not agree upon 
 choosing a decisive character from among them- 
 selves, they should fix upon one who, by his age 
 and neutral qualities, was not likely to impair their 
 respective influence. The event took place accord- 
 ingly. After the conclave had been closed longer 
 than usual, and when there was no likelihood of 
 terminating the election in favour of the original 
 candidates, a new one was proposed, — Adrian, the 
 tutor of Charles, — a man of moderate talents, and 
 so far advanced in life that he could not reasonably 
 be expected to live long. He was immediately 
 elected. His elevation was, in fact, the effect of a 
 tacit compromise among all parties ; his age and 
 character compensating for the advantage which 
 the Imperialists were likely to gain by the event. 
 The election was in consequence unanimous, and 
 the cardinals, with their usual blasphemy, ascribed 
 it to a special interference of the Holy Ghost- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 73 
 
 Whatever Wolsey may have privately felt at being 
 disappointed of the honour to which he had aspired, 
 the result did not alter the political policy which he 
 had previously adopted ; nor is there any proof 
 extant, that he did not concur, in opinion, with 
 those who suggested the expediency of electing the 
 emperor's tutor. Besides, his disappointment must 
 have been palliated by the consideration, that Ad- 
 rian was a foreigner, and that, by choosing him, 
 the door, which had been long shut on the trans- 
 alpine clergy, was again opened to them. It could 
 not fail to be remarked, that the objection of his 
 country would weigh less at the next vacancy, the 
 prospect of which, by the infirmities of the new 
 pope, was not very distant. It has been alleged 
 that Charles did not exert himself on this occasion 
 for the advancement of the Cardinal, as he had 
 promised ; but the contrary is the fact. It is true 
 that his own tutor was preferred, but there is 
 little reason to believe that it was by his particular 
 interference. 
 
 XI. In the meantime, the domestic administra- 
 tion of the Cardinal had been troubled with an un- 
 happy event, the trial and execution of Edward 
 Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. He was descended 
 from a daughter of Thomas of Woodstock, the sixth 
 son of Edward III. ; and, consequently, as all the 
 legitimate heirs of the five elder brothers, but the 
 mother of the king, had been cut off in the civil 
 wars, he was next, in line of blood, to the crown, in 
 
74 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the event of Henry VII.'s family becoming extinct. 
 But his chance of rightfully ascending the throne 
 was then very remote ; for, besides the Princess 
 Mary, then heir apparent, the dowagers of France 
 and Scotland had each several children, and, as 
 well as the king, they had the hope and prospect 
 of more. His revenues were ample, his expendi- 
 ture liberal, and, flattered by his inferiors, he mis- 
 took the deference paid to the accidents of fortune 
 for the assurances of future royalty. Without any 
 of those strong and steady talents, which are at 
 once the causes and the means of ambition, he was 
 deeply imbued with the fatalism which attends that 
 imperial passion, and he pried into the undeveloped 
 secrets of time with a weak and feminine solicitude. 
 The lordliness and lofty genius of the Cardinal, 
 overtowering all the courtiers, mortified his pride, 
 and rebuked his pretensions. He grudged that a 
 man of mean birth should enjoy so much authori- 
 ty, and he hated him for being qualified to main- 
 tain it. This antipathy, the narrow jealousy of 
 aristocratic arrogance, was probably exasperated by 
 the contempt with which it was retaliated. 
 
 XII. Among* other things which the duke com- 
 es o 
 
 plained of in the administration of the Cardinal 
 was, the expensive meeting of the courts of France 
 and England. He represented it as a theatrical 
 show, by which Wolsey only desired to exhibit to 
 the world his influence over the two kings; but, 
 being ordered to attend, lie had prepared for the 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 75 
 
 voyage with the magnificence suitable to his rank 
 and his fortune. Happening to be ready before 
 the court, he went forward to his estates in Kent, 
 and dismissed his steward for having vexed and 
 oppressed his tenantry. A short time before his 
 departure from London, his son-in-law, the Earl 
 of Surrey, appointed viceroy of Ireland, had pro- 
 ceeded to Dublin. It is necessary to notice this 
 circumstance particularly ; because, it has been al- 
 leged, that Surrey was sent purposely out of the 
 way, that Wolsey might the more easily accomplish 
 his machinations for the ruin of Buckingham, al- 
 though it was chiefly on the evidence of the steward 
 that he was found guilty. 
 
 XIII. In the spring following the interview of 
 the kings, and about twelve months after Surrey 
 had been sent to Ireland, Buckingham was accused 
 of treasonable practices ; arrested, and frequently 
 examined, he was impeached, and ordered for trial. 
 That he was fairly dealt with in the process can- 
 not be denied. The Duke of Norfolk, father of 
 his son-in-law, was appointed great steward for the 
 occasion ; nor have the other members of the court 
 of commission by which he was tried, and which 
 consisted of a marquis, seven earls, and twelve 
 barons, ever been mentioned as actuated against 
 him by any questionable motive. But witnesses 
 might be suborned, and the court, though of the 
 purest integrity, might hear such assertions in evi- 
 dence, that sentence against the victim could not 
 
X 
 
 76 CARDINAL YTOLSEY. 
 
 possibly be avoided. This, however, has never 
 been alleged. It has never been asserted that the 
 witnesses were false, although the execution was 
 considered as a severity which the actual aggression 
 did not merit. He was convicted on charges, which, 
 in an age credulous of astrological predictions, and 
 at a time when the calamities of the York and 
 Lancaster wars were fresh in every memory, ap- 
 peared much more heinous than can be conceived, 
 without reference to the period in which they were 
 made. The turpitude of crimes depends on the 
 state of public feeling when they happen to be 
 committed. The amount of w r rong does not con- 
 stitute the degree of guilt. The estimate which 
 society makes of the probable issue of tolerating 
 evil actions, constitutes the hideousness of guilt, as 
 the horrors of Sin are in the voluminous and loath- 
 some length of her extremities. 
 
 XIV. It was proved against Buckingham, that 
 he had declared, before the birth of the princess 
 Mary, that he considered himself, if the king died 
 without issue, as heir to the crown ; that he did 
 many things which evinced a traitorous ambition, 
 finding mult with the conduct of Henry VII., and 
 murmuring against the existing government ; that 
 he had dealt with a fortune-telling monk, concern- 
 ing his chance of succeeding to the throne, and, 
 having confidence in the predictions, had courted 
 popularity; that he said to his dismissed steward, 
 if he had been committed to the Tower, on account 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 77 
 
 of one of the king^ servants, who had entered 
 without leave into his household, and who had 
 been convicted of contumacy in the Star-chamber, 
 he would have. played the part his father meant to 
 have acted against Richard III., when he entreated 
 to be brought into his presence. He would have 
 stabbed the king as he affected to kneel in homage ; 
 and, in telling these words, he grasped his dagger, 
 and swore fiercely ; and it was also proved, that 
 he had said, if the king died, he would have the 
 rule of the realm in spite of all opposition. 
 
 XV. Such is the essence of the charges on which 
 he was arraigned. His consultations with the monk 
 had taken place many years before, and seem to 
 have been brought forward with a view to show 
 how long he had cherished such unlawful wishes. 
 Treason, though of all crimes the most dreadful, 
 is yet, by something either in its magnitude or 
 its resemblance to the gallant enterprises of war, 
 never considered with those sentiments of detesta- 
 tion that acts of inferior guilt inspire ; and a con- 
 demned man, whatever may have been his offence, 
 is always an object of compassion. In carrying 
 the duke through London to the Tower, after his 
 doom had been pronounced, the pity of the specta- 
 tors would have been excited, even although his 
 attendants had not solicited their prayers ; especi- 
 ally as h3 had not actually perpetrated any pal- 
 pable crime. The lamentations, therefore, which 
 accompanied his condemnation and execution, are 
 
78 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 rather a proof of the generosity of the people and 
 of his own popularity, than evidence of innocence, 
 or of the machiavelism ascribed by contemporary 
 historians to the Cardinal. 
 
 XVI. After Wolsey^s unavailing attempt to re- 
 concile Francis and Charles, it was expected that 
 the French faction in Scotland, at the head of which 
 was the Duke of Albany, would, according to the 
 ancient policy of that kingdom, endeavour to dis- 
 turb the tranquillity of England, while Henry 
 embarked in the war against France. This was 
 rendered the more probable, as Queen Margaret, 
 in consequence of a domestic disagreement, had 
 detached herself from the English party, and open- 
 ly declared that she was accessary to Albany's re- 
 turn. Prompt measures were therefore necessary 
 to frustrate the designs which the regent of Scot- 
 land unequivocally meditated. The warden of the 
 marches was accordingly commanded to pass the 
 borders, and to proclaim that the Scots, in less 
 than a month, should desist from their predatory 
 inroads and warlike preparations. The regency 
 of Scotland disregarded the admonition, and the 
 duke, with a numerous army, advanced towards 
 the borders. But the barons and chieftains, though 
 they had agreed to protect the frontiers of their 
 own country, refused to molest the land and sub- 
 jects of England. Albany was, in consequence, 
 obliged to propose a truee, and to allow his army 
 to disperse. Thus disappointed, he suddenly re- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 79 
 
 turned to Paris, in order to concert new measures 
 with Francis, who, though menaced on all sides 
 by the confederates, continued assiduous in the 
 execution of the plans which had originally induc- 
 ed him to violate the league of London. 
 
 XVII. Francis had ordered the goods, debts, 
 and persons of the English in Bourdeaux to be 
 arrested, — an aggression which greatly astonished 
 the inhabitants of London, and quickened the in- 
 dignation with which his conduct had already in- 
 spired the government. The Cardinal instantly, oh 
 receiving the news, sent for the French ambassa- 
 dor, and expressed, with the utmost acerbity, his 
 opinion of Francis and his government, in being 
 the first promoters of the league of London, and 
 the first who had violated its engagements. 
 " Francis,"" said Wolsey, " gave his word to the 
 king, when they met inPicardy, that Albany should 
 not be allowed to return to Scotland, and yet he 
 has sent him there. What sort of a fellow must 
 your master be ?" The ambassador was then or- 
 dered to keep his house ; and all the French and 
 Scots in London were indiscriminately thrown into 
 prison. This summary retribution was immediate- 
 ly followed by other decisive acts of hostility ; and 
 orders were issued to ascertain the population and 
 resources of the kingdom, preparatory to the call- 
 ing forth of all its power. 
 
 XVIII. The science of political economy, which 
 has been so amply elucidated in the course of the 
 
80 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 eighteenth century, was scarcely known in the 
 time of Wolsey. Whatever was raised from the 
 people, for the service of the state, was regarded 
 as so much subtracted from the wealth of the na- 
 tion. The vital energy, which arises from the ge- 
 neral interchange of money, commodities, and skill, 
 was, like the circulation of the blood, then very 
 imperfectly known. Nor was it understood that 
 the impoverishment, occasioned by wars, proceeds 
 as much from diminishing the number of produc- 
 tive labourers, as from the expenditure of treasure. 
 It was not the custom for armies to act only 
 against armies in those days, but to practise that 
 system of levying contributions, which the French 
 have, with so much success, resorted to in these. 
 Whenever a country was invaded, all within the 
 reach of the invader was subjected to his use. The 
 inhabitants would have beheld, with as much asto- 
 nishment, the enemy paying for provisions, as the 
 soldiers would have heard, with indignation, an 
 order denying them the privilege of plundering. 
 By the feudal obligations, those expenses, which 
 constitute the main expenditure of nations, fell 
 immediately on the possessors of the soil, before 
 the encroachments of the clergy had attached to 
 the church the richest domains, and made it no 
 longer possible for the secular orders to bear the 
 whole charge alone. The ecclesiastics being ex- 
 empted from personal service, it became customary 
 lor the kings of England to solicit them for pecu- 
 
 G 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 81 
 
 niary aids. But the laymen were still bound to 
 furnish arms and soldiers. The public works also 
 were, in those days, not constructed at the expense 
 of the royal revenues ; but were either paid for by 
 local taxes, or executed by a proportional number 
 of labourers and mechanics drawn from different 
 parts of the kingdom. Many of the civil and judi- 
 cial offices were independent of the crown, and at- 
 tached to the soil. Property, which is the basis of 
 political power, was anciently in England the legal 
 and constitutional criterion of intellectual capacity. 
 In proportion to the opulence of an estate was the 
 extent of the possessor's authority. The disburse- 
 ments of the exchequer were consequently only on 
 account of the royal household, except when armies 
 were transported to the plains of France : on such 
 occasions, the preparations for the fleet rendered it 
 necessary to solicit benevolences or gifts from the 
 priesthood, and all other willing and loyal subjects. 
 But this precarious resource was inadequate for 
 the exigencies of that wide and extended war, 
 which Henry had resolved to wage, in conjunction 
 with Charles and his other allies, against Francis. 
 The duty therefore which the Cardinal had to per- 
 form was the most ungracious that could fall to 
 the lot of any minister. Taxation was regarded, 
 in some sort, as a heresy in state dogmas ; and that 
 complex machinery, by which the vast revenues of 
 England are now collected from the rispings and 
 friction of industry, was not then invented. Nor 
 
 F 
 
«2 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 were the objects of the war obvious to the multi- 
 tude, while its burdens were greater than any 
 other which the English nation had ever before 
 sustained. 
 
 XIX. When the feudal system was in its vigour, 
 it set bounds to the ambition of kings ; for, al- 
 though it enabled them to resist aggression with 
 more expedition than any military arrangement 
 that has yet appeared, it prevented them from 
 combining with so much effect as the later institu- 
 tion of standing armies. It was only calculated for 
 defensive operations. The limited time which the vas- 
 sals were bound to attend the chieftains, accoutred and 
 provided for the field, was too short for the execution 
 of great schemes of conquest, though sufficient to 
 frustrate invasions undertaken by feudal armies. 
 But as the system itself fell into decay, forces were 
 formed, with commanders distinct from the possess- 
 ors of the land, even before any material altera- 
 tion took place in the relative condition of the pro- 
 vincial states of Christendom. The change, aris- 
 ing from the decay, first began to show itself in 
 leagues offensive and defensive ; for the preserva- 
 tion of which, troops ready for the field became 
 requisite, and for their maintenance, the obliga- 
 tions of knight-service were commuted for money. 
 As the feudal system sunk, the financial rose ; 
 and the means were taken from the people of de- 
 fending themselves, and placed in the hands of the 
 military order. Hence nations, which formerly 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 83 
 
 would have required the efforts of ages to over- 
 come, have, in these days, been conquered by re- 
 gular armies in a single battle. Under the finan- 
 cial system, that country which can support the 
 largest standing force must necessarily prevail. 
 But, during the ancient state of the European na- 
 tions, the farther an invading army advanced, its 
 means of annoyance diminished, while those of its 
 opponents increased. The case is different when 
 the contest lies between two regular armies : the 
 inhabitants of the invaded country are defenceless ; 
 they trust to their military order, and when it is 
 vanquished, they are subdued. The rule becomes 
 transferred to the victors, and the people, destitute 
 of those standards of local champions, around 
 which their ancestors were wont to rally with in- 
 vigorated hopes, even after repeated defeats, sub- 
 mit without resistance to the decrees of their new 
 masters. This state of things can only be abro- 
 gated by the renunciation of coalitionary projects ; 
 and by each nation constituting within itself a sys- 
 tem of defence commensurate to its population. It 
 is difficult to understand on what principle of na- 
 tural justice one government should link its fate to 
 that of another. For what are called the common 
 causes of nations, those in which different states, 
 with distinct interests and opposite sentiments, 
 unite and war against any other particular state, 
 must necessarily be unjust, because the very object 
 of their coalition is only contingent. Such con- 
 
84 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tracts, however, as the league of London, which, 
 perhaps, ought to be regarded as the grandest mo- 
 nument of the comprehensive mind of Wolsey, are 
 of a different nature. They are, in some degree, 
 to nations, what public statutes are to persons ; 
 and their tendency, as was shown in the appeal to 
 Henry, and in the meeting of the congress of Ca- 
 lais, is manifestly to constitute a tribunal, to which 
 states may refer their complaints against the en- 
 croachments of one another. 
 
 XX. Scotland, by her alliance with France, 
 always reckoned, in the event of war with Eng- 
 land, on a powerful diversion being made in her 
 favour, by the proximity of the English continen- 
 tal dominions to the territories of the French 
 kings. And France, in her turn, being conti- 
 nually exposed to the pretensions of the warlike 
 Plantagenets to her whole crown, calculated on a 
 similar advantage, from the borders of Scotland, 
 against the very body itself of the English mon- 
 archy. This reciprocity of policy formed a strong 
 connexion between the courts of Paris and of Edin- 
 burgh ; and nothing, prior to the marriage of 
 James IV. with the daughter of Henry VII., oc- 
 curred to impair its effect. But that marriage, 
 and the magnanimity of England after the calamit- 
 ous fall of James at Flodden, with the relation- 
 ship of his children to Henry, opened the affairs 
 and politics of Scotland to the influence of the 
 English cabinet. Wolsey availed himself of this 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 85 
 
 circumstance, and the ministers of Queen Elizabeth 
 perfected the systematic interference which he so 
 successfully commenced. Improbable as it ought 
 to be, that persons, belonging to that high class 
 which is particularly intrusted with the sacred cus- 
 tody of the honour and independence of their 
 country, should, for selfish purposes, enter into a 
 corrupt correspondence with the minister of a fo- 
 reign state, there are numerous documents extant 
 which prove the venality of Scottish peers and pre- 
 lates, and their subserviency to Cardinal Wolsey. 
 From the period of the battle of Flodden, and the 
 meeting of the congress at Calais, a greater predi- 
 lection towards England was formed within the 
 bosom of Scotland than had existed since the time 
 of Edward I. From the date of the battle, the 
 French influence began to decline. During the 
 Cardinal's administration it was rendered almost 
 nugatory ; for when it did happen to succeed to a 
 certain extent, its schemes, by some secret skilful 
 management, suddenly dissolved in the moment of 
 parturition, and disappointed the hopes of those 
 who had conceived them. 
 
 XXI. The time which the emperor had fixed 
 for his second visit to England, and for which he 
 had made stipulations in the treaty concluded by 
 Wolsey at Calais, was now arrived. A number of 
 persons, of the first rank, were in consequence sent 
 to attend him across the Channel ; and the Cardi- 
 nal, with a sumptuous train of ecclesiastics, re- 
 
86 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ceived him again at Dover. The king, as on his 
 former visit, met him in the castle, and thence con- 
 ducted him to the palace of Greenwich. On 
 Whitsunday, he went to St Paul's with the court ; 
 and the Cardinal performed the service with a de- 
 gree of ostentatious pomp never surpassed by the 
 popes themselves. Two barons held the basin and 
 towel before the mass ; two earls after the gospels ; 
 and two dukes served him at the last lavation. 
 When Charles was soon after instituted a knight 
 of the garter, he received the sacrament with Hen- 
 ry ; and they vowed, together, kneeling at the al- 
 tar, to maintain inviolate a treaty which had been 
 previously drawn up, and which, from the place of 
 ratification, was called the treaty of Windsor. 
 
 XXII. By this contract it was declared, that 
 hostilities having arisen between the emperor and 
 the French king, they had, as contrahents of the 
 league of London, applied to the King of Eng- 
 land, who, to compose their differences, had sent 
 Cardinal Wolsey to Calais, and it was proved, that 
 the aggressions had first been committed by the 
 French. Wolsey failing to effect a reconciliation, 
 and Francis having violated his faith to Henry by 
 sending the Duke of Albany to Scotland, and also 
 by molesting the English trade, it was agreed that 
 Charles and Henry should unite in the prosecution 
 of the war against France ; and, in order to render 
 their alliance the more effectual and permanent, 
 it was likewise agreed that Charles should, in due 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 87 
 
 time, be married to the Princess Mary, or forfeit 
 five hundred thousand crowns if he failed in this 
 engagement. The daughter of Henry had for- 
 merly been betrothed to the unborn heir of Fran- 
 cis, but the occurrence of war had dissolved that 
 contract. The most remarkable article, however, 
 in the treaty of Windsor, is an agreement on the 
 part, respectively, of the two sovereigns, to consti- 
 tute Cardinal Wolsey judge and arbiter of their 
 differences ; and they empowered him to pro- 
 nounce the sentence of excommunication on the 
 first that infringed the articles of the contract. 
 
 XXIII. During the emperor's residence in Eng- 
 land, Henry set no limits to his munificence: a 
 continual succession of those gorgeous entertain- 
 ments, in which he himself so much delighted, 
 afforded to his guest opportunities of practising 
 that meretricious affability which captivates the 
 affections of the vulgar ; while he secured by gifts 
 and vails a lease of the good-will and praise of the 
 courtiers. Surrey was recalled from Ireland to be 
 employed in the war. It was alleged, that be- 
 tween him and Wolsey there was a secret anti- 
 pathy. If this was the case, the conduct of the 
 Cardinal was certainly magnanimous towards this 
 courageous and decisive man. He kept him 
 employed in situations of the highest trust, and 
 enabled him to acquire that lofty renown, which 
 still exhibits him to posterity as one of the greatest 
 warriors that England has produced. He was, 
 
88 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 at this time, appointed admiral of the combined 
 English and Imperial fleet, from which, while the 
 emperor was with the king, he made two descents 
 on the coast of France, and returned with much 
 booty. He afterwards conveyed the emperor to 
 Spain with a fleet of one hundred and eighty men 
 of war, the largest that had ever before departed 
 from the shores of England. 
 
 XXIV. It has been said, that, although Charles 
 appeared to treat Wolsey with so much deference, 
 one of the objects of his visit was to ingratiate 
 himself more intimately with Henry, and to acquire 
 an interest in his affections beyond the influence of 
 the favourite. But this is not probable. The 
 visit had been concerted by Wolsey himself, and 
 nothing had occurred which could induce the em- 
 peror to expect, or to desire, a change in the 
 councils and system of England. It is true, that, 
 at this period, the active genius of the Cardinal 
 was felt throughout all Europe ; and that he arro- 
 gated a degree of mastery over the particular 
 affairs of England, which the constitution was not 
 supposed to have vested, even then, in the prero- 
 gatives of the crown. But Henry, always fervent 
 in his attachments, was proud of the great qualities 
 and zeal of his minister, and alike regardless of the 
 insinuations of envy, the venom of malice, and the 
 craft of diplomatic depravity. He had too much 
 discernment not to perceive the blemishes of Wol- 
 sey'fi character, his surpassing ostentation, pride of 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 89 
 
 superiority, and love of luxury ; but these spots 
 were lost in the lustre of his general merits. 
 
 .XXV. Surrey, after conveying the emperor to 
 Spain, landed on the coast of France a force of 
 about seven thousand men, who plundered the 
 town, and destroyed the ships, in the harbour of 
 Morlaix. Having re-embarked, he came to Cowes, 
 in the Isle of Wight, where he conferred the hon- 
 our of knighthood on several officers who had sig- 
 nalized themselves in that exploit; for the prac- 
 tices of chivalry still prevailed, and knights in 
 arms were qualified to dub the distinguished sol- 
 dier on the field. 
 
 XXVI. The war^ in the meantime, against 
 Francis, was resolved to be prosecuted at all points. 
 Orders were issued to ascertain the full strength of 
 the kingdom. An exhibition was made of all the 
 arms ; the number of persons above the age of 
 sixteen was reckoned ; and the names of the lords 
 of manors, as well as of all the beneficed clergy, 
 were taken. Aliens were, at the same time, obliged 
 to register with the magistrates an account of their 
 families, their professions, and the occasion of their 
 residence in England. The result enabled the 
 Cardinal to know the extent of his resources ; and, 
 in order to avail himself of them, the Convocation 
 and Parliament were summoned to meet. 
 
 XXVII. The Convocation of the clergy an- 
 ciently consisted of two chambers like the Parlia- 
 ment. In the upper, sat the archbishops, bishops, 
 
90 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 and mitred abbots ; and in the lower, the deans 
 with the inferior graduates. With the king's writ 
 for calling the Parliament, an order was sent to 
 the archbishops to summon the Convocation, but 
 the day of meeting was not mentioned in the royal 
 order. The clergy, affecting to be independent of 
 the crown, did not choose that it should appear 
 that they were particularly controlled in the as- 
 sembling of the Convocation. The will of the 
 king, as to the day of meeting, was, in conse- 
 quence, privately communicated to the archbishops, 
 who, in their writs, informed their respective pro- 
 vinces when and where to assemble. On this oc- 
 casion, Wolsey, by virtue of his legantine superi- 
 ority, regulated the Convocation. The clergy 
 met according to the summons of the archbishops 
 in St Paul's, London ; but the Cardinal obliged 
 them to adjourn their meeting to Westminster 
 Abbey, where he explained to them the causes 
 which required their attention and deliberation. 
 
 XXVIII. He expatiated on the obligations which 
 the church lay under to the king, for suppressing 
 the schism which was likely to have arisen in the 
 days of Julius ; but particularly for that excellent 
 book which he had written in defence of the faith, 
 and which they had all so becomingly declared to 
 be inestimable. " Now," said the Cardinal, " as 
 he is engaged in a war with the French king, who 
 has sent the Duke of Albany into Scotland to in- 
 vade England from that quarter, it is proper that 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 91 
 
 his clergy should show the sincerity of their grati- 
 tude, and prove themselves sensible of the happi- 
 ness of having such a sovereign, by granting him 
 something, as much beyond all precedent as they 
 have affirmed that he has transcended all kings." 
 He concluded by proposing, that they should en- 
 gage to pay him yearly, for five years, a sum equal 
 to the tenth part of their incomes. The opulent 
 prelates of Rochester and Winchester opposed the 
 motion. They represented it as an unheard-of ex- 
 tortion, which it was not possible for the clergy to 
 pay and live. Wolsey, however, was not daunted. 
 By practising the common modes of managing de- 
 liberate bodies ; by corrupting some, and contriv- 
 ing occasions of absence for others, he secured a 
 majority of votes, and, in the end, was victorious. 
 All natives who held benefices were to pay ten per 
 cent., and all foreigners twenty per cent. A few 
 celebrated men were placed on a footing with the 
 natives ; among whom Erasmus and Polydore Vir- 
 gil were mentioned with distinction. This is a sin- 
 gular fact, and proves the estimation in which the 
 characters of those eminent authors were then held. 
 But the general host of ecclesiastics regarded the 
 conduct of the Cardinal, on this occasion, as scarce- 
 ly less tolerable than in the institution of his lega- 
 tine court ; and they were only content to pacify 
 their indignation by obtaining an exemption of 
 their means from secular investigation, — an exemp- 
 
92 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tion which, having been stipulated, was, probably, 
 not originally intended to have been allowed. 
 
 XXIX. In the Parliament the Cardinal was not 
 so successful. The members of that venerable 
 body obliged, by the rated valuation of their lands, 
 to provide proportioned quantities of the materiel 
 of war, in common with all the other lay proprie- 
 tors, and having no means of indemnity for their 
 individual contributions, either in colonial or re- 
 venue offices, or contracts, or army promotions, or 
 any of those numerous modes of recompensing 
 themselves for their share of the public burdens, by 
 which, in later times, such miracles in finance have 
 been performed, were not so easily swayed by the 
 energy of the minister's eloquence. When the 
 customary ceremonies at the opening of Parliament 
 were over, the Cardinal, attended by several of the 
 peers and prelates, bearing a verbal message from 
 the king, entered the House of Commons, and ad- 
 dressed the speaker on the expediency of granting 
 supplies adequate to the vigorous prosecution of 
 the war. When he had retired, a long debate en- 
 sued, which terminated in a resolution to grant 
 only half the sum demanded. Wolsey, on hearing 
 this, went a second time to the house, and request- 
 ed to hear the reasons of those who opposed the 
 motion. But the speaker informed him, that it 
 was the order of the house to hear, but not to rea- 
 son, except among themselves. The Cardinal then 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 93 
 
 repeated what he had before said on the subject, 
 and endeavoured to convince the members, that 
 what was required for the public service ought 
 not to be considered as subtracted from the wealth 
 of the nation. The war, however, being one of 
 policy, and not in revenge for injury received, nor 
 to avert any visible danger, the commons were re- 
 solute, and only granted about five per cent, on 
 certain incomes for five years, instead of double 
 that sum, which the minister had requested. 
 
 XXX. But even the reduced grant was loudly 
 complained of, and the people universally repined 
 that their means and properties should be subject 
 to the investigation of the collectors of the tax. 
 Deputations from the merchants of London waited 
 on the Cardinal, and begged him to consider, that 
 the richest merchants were often bare of money ; 
 and they entreated that they might not be sworn 
 as to the value of their property, for the valuation 
 was necessarily doubtful, and many an honest man's 
 credit was better than his substance. " To make 
 us swear," said they, " will expose us to commit 
 perjury." " The dread of committing perjury," 
 said Wolsey, " is, at least, a sign of grace ; but 
 you should give the king some proof of your loy- 
 alty. You see what costly armies are preparing 
 for France and Scotland ; and these he cannot 
 maintain unless you give him assistance, and we 
 know that you can afford to do it very well. On 
 Saturday next I will, therefore, send into the city 
 
94 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 a person to receive estimates of your means ; and 
 let such of you as have more credit than property 
 come privately to me, and I will take care that he 
 shall not be injured. ,, The merchants departed, 
 muttering against the minister, who, as he had 
 threatened, sent his secretary to St Paul's to re- 
 ceive the estimates of the citizens, without oaths. 
 
 XXXI. During these transactions with the 
 Convocation, the Parliament, and the people, a re- 
 markable event occurred, which claimed the parti- 
 cular attention of Wolsey, and enabled him, as in 
 the business of the income-tax, to afford a prece- 
 dent for future ministers in revolutionary times. 
 The crown of Denmark was not then hereditary. 
 The inheritance was limited to one family, but the 
 son was not regularly the successor of the father. 
 The monarchy was elective, but it was requisite 
 that the candidates should be of the royal family. 
 The prerogative of election was also limited to a 
 certain number of persons, and the heir was chosen 
 during the lifetime of the king. This form of con- 
 stitution prevailed anciently over all the northern 
 nations of Europe ; nor was the law confined to 
 crowns, but extended over the inferior orders of 
 the state in the Gothic nations. It preceded the 
 law of tenures ; and, when the feudal system was 
 falling into decay, some remains of it could be 
 traced in the customs of tanistry, which, even in 
 the time of Queen Elizabeth, existed in those 
 parts of Ireland to which that system had never 
 
 2 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 95 
 
 been extended. Christern II., who married the 
 emperor's sister, Isabella, and niece to the Queen 
 of England, was at this time King of Denmark. 
 Daring the life of his father, and while only seven 
 years old, he had been elected to succeed to the 
 crown. Whether this was considered by the elec- 
 tors as a favour which entitled them to impose new 
 restrictions on the royal prerogatives, or that the 
 old king, with a view of laying the foundations of 
 a regular hereditary succession in his own family, 
 had conceded that his son should be more limited 
 in power than his predecessors, is of no importance 
 to ascertain ; but Christern, after his accession, 
 thought, as the restraints upon him were greater 
 than customary on the kings of Denmark, and 
 having been incurred without his consent, that he 
 was not bound to abide by them. Instead, how- 
 ever, of resigning the crown, as he therefore ought 
 to have done, he so acted, that the electors were 
 obliged to declare, that he had violated the condi- 
 tions on which he held it. In consequence, they 
 proclaimed the throne vacant, and elected his 
 uncle into the sovereignty. 
 
 XXXII. Christern left the country, with his 
 family, and took refuge in the Netherlands, ex- 
 pecting, from the powerful relations of his wife, 
 such assistance as might enable him to recover the 
 throne. They afterwards came over to England, 
 and were received by the court with the distinction 
 due to them as the near relations of the queen. 
 
96 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Upon his soliciting aid, however, the Cardinal ad- 
 vised him to repair without delay to his patrimo- 
 nial dominions, and try to recover the good opi- 
 nion of the Danes, and a reconciliation with his 
 enemies in Denmark. He assured him that Henry 
 and Charles would use their best persuasion, both 
 by letters and ministers, to the electors, the new 
 king, and the influential lords of the realm, to pro- 
 cure his restoration ; and that out of the respect 
 which Henry had for Isabella, his niece, he would 
 as an inducement offer to guarantee to the Danish 
 states, the reformation of those abuses of which 
 they complained, and for which they had deposed 
 him. The Cardinal also added, that the English 
 residentiary at Rome should be immediately in- 
 structed to apply to the pope for his interposition, 
 by briefs and exhortations, in order to accomplish 
 the restoration. " But if these fair and equitable 
 means fail of effect, then others shall be tried ; 
 for it is disreputable,"" said he, " to reason and 
 good sense, that a prince should, by the wilfulness 
 of his lords and commons, be expelled from his 
 kingdom, without having first given an answer to 
 a statement of their grievances. With these as- 
 surances, Christern departed, and Wolsey imme- 
 diately concerted the means for realizing the ex- 
 pectations he had thus cherished ; but in the end 
 the cause was necessarily abandoned. 
 
 XXXIII. The Danish revolution not being fol- 
 lowed with any effect on the affairs of Europe, 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 97 
 
 with which Wolsey was particularly engaged, is 
 chiefly remarkable on account of the insight which 
 it affords to the Cardinal's political notions. His 
 expressions on the occasion are, indeed, so extra- 
 ordinary, considering his situation, and the period 
 in which he lived, that if he had not, under his 
 own hand, furnished the record, they might justly 
 be questioned, having never before been particu- 
 larly noticed by any historian. In the reign of 
 Henry VIII. the right of blood does not appear to 
 have been considered as essential in the succession ; 
 for he was allowed to dispose of the crown by will, 
 and actually excluded his eldest sister's heirs from 
 the right of succeeding. The English constitution, 
 indeed, appears generally to have very distinct- 
 ly recognised the supreme and ultimate authority 
 of the people, and to have held the monarchs en- 
 titled to the throne only so long as they fulfilled 
 their engagements. The opinion of Wolsey as to 
 the obligation of kings, and the power of lords and 
 commons, is now an acknowledged maxim both in 
 the theory and practice of the legislature. 
 
 XXXIV. While the preparations for the war 
 were vigorously undertaken by Henry, Adrian, 
 who had filled the papal throne with more innocence 
 and less talent than either Julius or Leo, having 
 ineffectually endeavoured to reconcile the bellige- 
 rent potentates, was induced to break from the 
 neutrality which he had assumed at his election, 
 and to become a member of the confederacy against 
 
98 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Francis. But he had not long done this when he 
 fell sick and died. The Cardinal, on being informed 
 of his death, immediately wrote to the king, who was 
 then on one of his country excursions, and solicited 
 his assistance, and also his influence, with the empe- 
 ror to procure the papacy. In the event of Wolsey 
 not succeeding, the English government were de- 
 sirous that Juliode Medicishould be preferred; and, 
 from the sequel, it appears, that a reciprocity of ad- 
 vantagehad been previously concerted between these 
 two candidates, in the event of either being elected. 
 XXXV. The cardinals at Rome, after spend- 
 ing fifty days in the conclave, were not likely to 
 come to any decision ; so that the Holy Ghost was 
 again obliged to interfere, and the election, of 
 course, was unanimous. Julio was chosen, and 
 assumed the title of Clement VII. It has been, 
 almost uniformly, since alleged, that Charles had 
 particularly engaged to use his utmost influence to 
 promote Wolsey to the apostolical dignity; but there 
 is no allusion to any such engagement in their cor- 
 respondence on that subject. The previous under- 
 standing, however, between Julio and Wolsey is 
 less equivocal ; for as soon as possible after his 
 election, the pope appointed the Cardinal legate 
 for life, and conferred on him all the papal preten- 
 sions over England which he could alienate ; sanc- 
 tioning, in every other respect, the measures which 
 he had adopted for the reformation of the clergy 
 within his jurisdiction. The character of Clement 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 99 
 
 for talent stood high in the world. During the 
 pontificate of his kinsman Leo, he had been in- 
 trusted with the chief administration of the papal 
 affairs, and had acquired the reputation of being 
 ambitious and innovating, which raised at his elec- 
 tion a general expectation of great changes. The 
 world, however, was mistaken : many of the mea- 
 sures which had been attributed to him were sug- 
 gested by the more capacious, but indolent, Leo. 
 He was, in fact, but an ordinary man, in whom the 
 constitutional qualities of gravity, temperance, and 
 assiduity were more remarkable than the faculties 
 which originate and direct speculative undertakings. 
 XXXVI. About the period of Adrian's death, 
 the Duke of Bourbon, high constable of France, 
 declared himself in rebellion against his king. Pri- 
 vate animosities had long rendered him adverse to 
 Francis ; and the English and Imperial cabinets, 
 aware of his disposition, incited him to the decisive 
 step which he took at this time. The price which 
 they at first offered for his treachery had been re- 
 jected ; but an accumulation of petty circumstances 
 influenced his resentment, and the terms being 
 made more acceptable, he was induced to enter 
 into the service of Charles. Bourbon was a plain 
 and gallant soldier; his enmity to Francis arose 
 from the frankness of his nature, and the want of 
 that dissimulation which, while it degrades the 
 man, rarely fails to exalt the courtier. In the out- 
 line of his talents he resembled Surrey, then the 
 
100 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 hero of England ; but, with all the qualities which 
 recommended him to the affections of his compa- 
 nions in danger, Bourbon was deficient in self-con- 
 trol. The principles of loyalty were, in that age, 
 weak among military men, and renown in arms 
 was a higher aim than patriotism. Bourbon must 
 ever be regarded as a traitor to his country ; but 
 his crime, in the opinion of his contemporaries, ad- 
 mitted of a more liberal construction. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 The administration of Cardinal Wolsey now pre- 
 sents a various and busy scene. The principal 
 actors have been introduced ; and the secret move- 
 ments and the circumstances which, in the end, 
 conspired to hasten on the catastrophe, have all 
 been unfolded. The narrative of future transac- 
 tions will therefore proceed rapidly ; and, in the de- 
 tail of the military events, only those incidents shall 
 be noticed which serve to illustrate the state of so- 
 ciety and the peculiarities of individual character. 
 The active operations in the field, and the eager 
 controversies of the Reformation, excited the public 
 mind to an impassioned degree, and the imagina- 
 tions of men were infected with fearful predictions. 
 Astrologers denounced deluges and devastations ; 
 but the deluges were the blood of mankind, and 
 the devastations proceeded from the sword. 
 
 II. In the autumn of 1523, the Duke of Suf- 
 folk was appointed to the command of an army 
 sent to invade France, and joined the Count de 
 
108 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Bure in Picardy. Francis was at Lyons, on his 
 way to Italy, when informed of the invasion, 
 which, by the junction of the English and Impe- 
 rialists, was more formidable than he had previous- 
 ly reason to expect. The allies, leaving the forti- 
 fied towns unassailed, marched directly towards 
 Paris. The whole kingdom was astonished. All 
 the troops hurried to the capital. The recruits, 
 then ascending the Alps, hastily returned to pro- 
 tect their homes. But a premature winter proved 
 more efficient than preparations dictated by con- 
 sternation and fear. The allies were compelled to 
 halt ; their provisions became exhausted, and the 
 cold was so intense that no creature could with- 
 stand its severity. Wolsey, however, was desirous 
 that the troops should still keep the field, and, by 
 the practice of an evasive warfare, deter Francis 
 from re-enforcing his army in Italy. The priva- 
 tions however of the ill-provided Imperialists were 
 so extreme, that the officers consented that the sol- 
 diers should disband themselves ; and Suffolk, in 
 consequence, sending his men into winter-quarters, 
 returned to England without having accomplished 
 any other object than suspending the march of the 
 re-enforcements destined to strengthen the French 
 army in Italy. The miserable and helpless con- 
 dition of the Imperial troops made a deep impres- 
 sion on the mind of the Cardinal ; and he express- 
 id himself on the failure of the campaign, as if he 
 thought the emperor undervalued the exertions of 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 103 
 
 England, or calculated on supporting his army at 
 her expense. 
 
 III. The Earl of Surrey had been ordered from 
 the fleet, and sent to command the troops on the bord- 
 ers of Scotland. The records of his operations there 
 present an awful picture of that unsparing desola- 
 tion which so long spread a lonely barrier of heaths 
 and moors between the habitable tracts of the sis- 
 ter kingdoms. During the summer, he ravaged 
 all the Merse and the dale of Tweed, leaving nei- 
 ther castle, village, tree, cattle, nor corn. The in- 
 habitants abandoned the country to the marauders : 
 some fled into England in the most calamitous state 
 of distress. The bread which they craved, instead 
 of repairing their strength, was devoured with such 
 rapacious hunger, that it only hastened their death. 
 Among other places that suffered severely, Jed- 
 burgh, then much larger than Berwick, was taken, 
 and the fortifications thrown down. On the night 
 of the sack, a party of the English horse, lying in 
 or without the camp, were seized with some unac- 
 countable panic, and ran about in all directions. 
 The soldiers started to arms. The flames of the 
 burning town threw a wild and troubled light on 
 the tumult. Surrey, in giving an account of this 
 affair to Wolsey, says, that seven times that night 
 spirits and terrible sights were visible. 
 
 IV. Clement, after his election, refused to ac- 
 cede to the league of Calais; and declared his 
 intention of remaining neuter in the quarrels be- 
 
104 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tween Charles and Francis. At this time, Bour- 
 bon commanded the Imperial army in Italy. The 
 emperor, designing to draw supplies from the Ita- 
 lian powers with whom he was allied, as he did 
 from England in the campaign in Picardy, left 
 Bourbon and the troops without money. This 
 sordid craft obliged the general to levy a contribu- 
 tion on the inhabitants of Milan, which, with other 
 money that he secretly persuaded the pope and 
 Florentines to lend, enabled him to take the field 
 in the spring of 1524, with about five and thirty 
 thousand men. The French army was as much 
 impoverished as the Imperial ; a band of the mer- 
 cenary Switz, finding they were not likely to be 
 paid, having deserted, the French general resolved 
 to repass the mountains. Hearing of his retreat, 
 Bourbon pursued. Between the Imperial van and 
 the rear of the fugitives several interesting skir- 
 mishes took place ; but the French crossed the 
 Alps without coming to a general battle. The 
 Milanese towns, however, in which they had left 
 garrisons, readily surrendered to the Imperialists. 
 V. The duchy of Milan being thus rescued, 
 Charles refused to invest Francisco Sforza with 
 the dukedom, although he had previously acknow- 
 ledged his claim. This, with other manifestations 
 of a grasping nature, inspired the pope with an. 
 prehensions, and he suspected that the emperor 
 meditated against Italy the same designs which 
 Francis had been compelled to relinquish. The 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 105 
 
 papal nuncio at the court of London was, in con- 
 sequence, instructed to attempt the reconciliation 
 of France and England. But Henry, at this 
 period, cherished the hope of giving substantial 
 validity to the title of the King of France ; and 
 Wolsey did not consider that presumptuous nation 
 yet sufficiently humbled. The papal mediation 
 therefore failed ; and new arrangements were con- 
 certed with Charles for the vigorous prosecution 
 of the war. Calculating on success, it was resolved 
 that Provence and Dauphine should be erected into 
 a kingdom for the Duke of Bourbon, who was to 
 hold it in fee of Henry, and that the other provinces 
 should be restored to the English crown, with the 
 exception of Burgundy, which was to be appro- 
 priated to Charles. The emperor engaged to fur- 
 nish a powerful army to reduce Provence ; and to 
 the maintenance of this force, England agreed to 
 contribute a hundred thousand crowns monthly, 
 unless the king himself invaded France with his 
 own troops in person. 
 
 VI. Bourbon, continuing to prosecute his suc- 
 cessful pursuit, entered Provence, took possession 
 of Aix, and laid siege to Marseilles. The garrison, 
 being previously re-enforced, gallantly resisted ; 
 and Francis, advancing rapidly, raised the siege. 
 It was now the end of autumn, and the Imperialists 
 in turn retreating, the French followed to recover 
 Milan. Bourbon, aware of the design of Francis, 
 made surprising exertions. Having re-enforced Pa- 
 
106 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 via, and taken all the precautionary measures 
 which the hurry of retreat permitted, he continued 
 to retire upon Italy. The French, soon masters 
 of the town of Milan, proceeded to invest Pavia. 
 Francis, deficient in military genius, forgot that 
 success in war, as in all human undertakings, de- 
 pends upon the undivided application of means, 
 and occupied his attention with objects that ought 
 only to have been contingent. He detached a large 
 body of troops towards Naples, by which the 
 strength of his army before Pavia was essentially 
 reduced ; but as it was still superior in number to 
 the garrison, he continued the siege. 
 
 VII. The condition of the Scottish government 
 at the close of the year 1524, and during these mo- 
 tions in Italy, was truly deplorable. Faction vio- 
 lated patriotism ; and the nation seemed devoted to 
 be so easy a prey to her neighbour, that it is difficult 
 to account for the forbearance of the English go- 
 vernment at this time, upon any other principle, 
 than that Henry regarded Scotland rather as the 
 private estate of his sister's family, than as the rival 
 of England. A kind of domestic interest pervades 
 the public correspondence of the two courts ; and 
 this intimacy and affection promised to become 
 closer, by a proposition from the Scots to unite their 
 young king, James V., to his cousin Mary, the 
 English heiress. Charles, alarmed when he heard 
 of the matrimonial proposal from Scotland, al- 
 though secretly negotiating a marriage for himself 
 
 7 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 107 
 
 with the princess of Portugal, sent ambassadors to 
 London, in order to request that Mary might be 
 delivered to him, according to the terms of the 
 treaty, by which they were regarded as affianced. 
 His affairs at this time were far from prosperous in 
 Italy ; and Solyman, the sultan, obtaining posses- 
 sion of Belgrade, menaced Hungary, and seemed 
 to be rapidly opening a passage into the very bosom 
 of Christendom. It was also reported that the 
 pope had allied himself with the French king ; so 
 that at this period the emperor, when he regarded 
 the situation of his affairs in Italy, and the ambition 
 of the Turk, had reason to be anxious to preserve 
 his alliance with Henry. Nor were the politics of 
 England less unclouded. The conduct of the em- 
 peror had not been satisfactory. The Spaniards, 
 eloquent in words, were dilatory in action ; and the 
 Cardinal, in his correspondence, could not disguise 
 his contemptuous Opinion of their sober and drib- 
 bling wars. The behaviour of the pope was great- 
 ly suspicious. It was rumoured, that the repub- 
 lic of Florence and the Tuscan territory were to 
 be converted into a kingdom for the Medici, and 
 to be called Etruria. The minds of men were agi- 
 tated with polemical controversies ; all was obscure, 
 ominous, and perplexed. 
 
 VIII. At this epoch, Wolsey drew up a mas- 
 terly view of the moral and political state of Eu- 
 rope, which he requested the English minister at 
 Rome to lay before the pope. He represented, in 
 
108 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 strong terms, the evils that must inevitably ensue 
 to Christendom, if his holiness, while the opinions 
 of Luther infected every country, studied, as was 
 reported, only the selfish aggrandisement of his 
 own family and kindred. He set forth the ex- 
 ample of disinterestedness which the English king 
 had shown to all princes, in suspending his private 
 rights and pretensions to France, in order to pro- 
 mote the general welfare of the Christian world. 
 He pointed out the confidence which had been 
 given to his holiness ; and the expectation cherish- 
 ed, that his pontificate would prove renowned, by 
 the removal of abuses, and the renovation of the 
 papal dignity, which had been so visibly stricken 
 by the wrath of Almighty God, since the heads of 
 the church had become parties in the projects of 
 secular princes. He warned his holiness not to 
 offend the emperor, in whose dominions the Lu- 
 theran heresies were so rife ; and expatiated on 
 the damage and detriment which the papacy must 
 suffer, if the French king succeeded in his notori- 
 ous designs ; for not only the Imperial dominions, 
 but also England, and, in the end, possibly, even 
 France herself, might renounce the apostolical 
 authority, to the everlasting shame and dishonour 
 of Clement. 
 
 IX. The part which Henry had taken in the 
 wars was exceedingly disagreeable to his own sub- 
 jects. They murmured at the requisite taxes, and 
 that Bourbon, a Frenchman, should be, in some 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 109 
 
 measure, employed by their king; nor could they 
 conceive in what manner the interests of England 
 were to be promoted, either by the subjugation, or 
 the rescue of Italy, a remote country. The con- 
 duct of Charles also dissatisfied the merchants. 
 His cruisers molested their vessels ; and he had 
 raised the price of English money in his do- 
 minions, by which the value of their commodities 
 was depreciated. The king himself began to be 
 dubious of the emperor's integrity ; and the whole 
 tenor of the Cardinal's correspondence, at this pe- 
 riod, indicates distrust, while he suggests many 
 expedients for bringing the war to a speedy con- 
 clusion. Louisa, the mother of Francis, having 
 been appointed regent of France during the ab- 
 sence of her son, being apprised of the altered dis- 
 position of the English cabinet, sent a monk se- 
 cretly to Wolsey, to ascertain how far an offer of 
 peace was likely to prove acceptable. But the 
 monk being unauthorised to propose any basis of 
 negotiation, the Cardinal said, shortly, that if the 
 French government was sincere in its desire for 
 peace, it should deal more frankly, and send per- 
 sons of more consequence, and with fuller creden- 
 tials, to Charles, as well as to Henry. The monk 
 begged to be informed, what the King of England 
 might demand for his part. " The whole realm 
 and crown of France," said the Cardinal, " witli 
 Normandy, Gascoignc, Guycn, and other depen- 
 dencies, his rightful patrimony, so long withheld 
 
110 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 by the French kings. What have you to say that 
 he should not have all his claims ?" The monk 
 answered, that he was not instructed to speak on 
 such matters, but he would relate to the regent 
 what had passed, and he thought she would send 
 ambassadors, properly accredited, both to the em- 
 peror and to the King of England. Although 
 this interview lasted only about half an hour, 
 and the monk, immediately after, was conveyed 
 out of the kingdom, it was not so secret, but that 
 some notion of its purport spread abroad, and, 
 like all other rumours, received various additions, 
 and underwent several transformations, in the 
 course of repeating. 
 
 X. The Imperial minister, a man who scrupled 
 not to aggrandise the reputation of his abilities at 
 the expense of others and of truth, had frequent- 
 ly, in communicating to his master the details of 
 his transactions with the Cardinal, represented, as 
 the results of his own address and skill, those mea- 
 sures in the war, which were suggested and plan- 
 ned within the English cabinet. Wolsey was in- 
 formed of this diplomatic artifice, and marked, by 
 his contemptuous manner, how much he despised 
 the man. The ambassador, irritated by this treat- 
 ment, vindictively misrepresented to his govern- 
 ment the conduct of the Cardinal, and particular- 
 ly with respect to the mission of the monk ; of 
 which, instead of sending a fair statement of the 
 facts, he transmitted a garbled account of the 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY, 111 
 
 popular rumour. But the clandestine manner 
 which he took to send these perfidious despatches 
 led to the exposure of his character. 
 
 XI. One evening, soon after the French emis- 
 sary had been with the Cardinal, a ward and watch 
 of citizens, as was then frequently the custom, 
 happened to be held in the city and environs of 
 London. About midnight, a man on horseback 
 was seized by one of the patrol, on the road to 
 Brentford ; and being questioned as to his jour- 
 ney, he answered so equivocally, that he was car- 
 ried to the guard-house, where he was searched, 
 and the Imperial minister's despatches were found 
 concealed in his clothes. The watchmen, unable 
 to read the address of the packet, carried it to an 
 attorney's clerk, who belonged to their party, and 
 the seal being broken, he found that it contained 
 letters written in cipher. The clerk gave it to the 
 king's solicitor, who was also on guard that night. 
 He, conceiving that the letters must, necessarily, 
 be of importance, delivered them to Sir Thomas 
 More, who lived at Chelsea, and belonged to ano- 
 ther company of the nightly watch. Next morn- 
 ing Sir Thomas gave them to the Cardinal in the 
 court of Chancery. Wolsey, it would appear, was 
 acquainted with the Imperial ciphers; for, on 
 looking into the letters, he perceived that others, 
 of a similar tenor, had been sent in the course of 
 the preceding day. He, therefore, ordered all the 
 packets of the Imperial minister to be stopped and 
 
112 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 brought to him : and he commanded the ambassa- 
 dor to confine himself to his house, transmitting, 
 along with the disreputable writings, a circumstan- 
 tial account of the real transactions of the English 
 government, to be laid before the emperor, in or- 
 der to show how much his confidence had been 
 misplaced ; and to warn him of the danger that 
 might ensue to the mutual amity of the two courts, 
 by employing such unprincipled and mischievous 
 men. 
 
 XII. In consequence of what had passed be- 
 tween the monk and the Cardinal, the regency of 
 France sent a public embassy to open a negotia- 
 tion ; but, before they had presented their creden- 
 tials, tidings arrived in London of the defeat and 
 captivity of their king at Pavia, an event which 
 filled all Europe with consternation. The French 
 garrisons in Italy abandoned their posts. The 
 troops, spared from the battle, fled in amazement. 
 The often-contested duchy of Milan was restored 
 to the Imperialists. The Italian states, seeing the 
 emperor thus in the possession of his rival, and ap- 
 prehending, by his conduct to Francisco Sforza, 
 that he was actuated by the ambition of being sole 
 monarch, prepared to confederate for mutual de- 
 fence. The Venetians proposed a league to the 
 pope; but Clement, dreading to incur the ven- 
 geance of the Imperial arms, refused their offer. 
 The maritime state, however* with a courage wor- 
 thy of freedom, determined to hazard all, rather 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY, 113 
 
 than incur the consequences of seeing the house of 
 Austria without a rival. In London, the destruc- 
 tion of the French army, and the captivity of the 
 French king, afforded, at first, the liveliest pleasure. 
 Henry boasted of his intention to proceed directly 
 to France ; and the people exulted in the idea of 
 seeing the projects of the Edwards and their fifth 
 Harry realized. 
 
 XIII. But the preparations ordered for the in- 
 vasion were scarcely commenced, when messages 
 came, from all parts, with such a description of the 
 arrogance of the Imperialists, and the conduct of 
 the emperor, in attempting to appropriate entirely 
 to himself all the fruits of the victory, that the king 
 suspended his purpose. He was convinced that 
 the balance of power was overthrown ; that it was 
 barely possible for him to maintain the proud emi- 
 nence on which he had hitherto stood ; and that 
 the events which he thought so favourable to the 
 accomplishment of his wishes, menaced him, in 
 fact, with a more subordinate fortune than the 
 kings of England had ever known. It is seldom 
 that any man can direct the current of national 
 affairs ; but a wide and earnest system of action 
 never fails to produce results which resemble the 
 pre-expected effects of particular designs. The 
 Cardinal, in conjunction with the Italian states, 
 promptly adopted a course of policy which had for 
 its object the restoration of the balance of power. 
 The imperial ambassador was therefore allowed to 
 
114 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 quit his confinement, and to leave the kingdom ; 
 while it was secretly intimated to the court of Paris, 
 that the King of England had determined not to 
 avail himself of the unfortunate and defenceless 
 state of France. 
 
 XIV. The first intelligence of the defeat at 
 Pavia filled the French nation with despair and 
 sorrow. The people imagined and expected every 
 calamity which fear could suggest, and adversity 
 render probable. They bewailed the captivity of 
 their king — their nobles also prisoners, or slain in 
 battle — and they deemed their misfortunes irrepa- 
 rable. The realm was exhausted of treasure ; en- 
 vironed with mighty armies ; and the noise of the 
 terrible preparations of the English king resounded 
 continually in their ears. The government was in 
 the hands of a woman ; the princes were still chil- 
 dren ; and the soldiers were destitute of leaders : — 
 all seemed combined to denote their subjugation. 
 But the mother of Francis possessed a firm and a 
 majestic mind. Though his letters informed her 
 that all was lost but life and honour, she exerted 
 her spirit in the midst of the general alarm, and 
 roused the ministers to perform their duty. 
 
 XV. Francis was conveyed in his own galleys to 
 Spain ; and his voyage was cheered by the hope 
 that, when brought into the presence of Charles, 
 lie should easily negotiate his freedom ; at least, 
 that his treatment would resemble the magnanimous 
 entertainment which his ancestor had received at 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 115 
 
 the court of England in the time of Edward III. 
 The emperor did indeed give orders to receive him 
 with the distinction due to his rank ; but this gene- 
 rosity was of short duration. Francis had not been 
 long upon the Spanish territory, when he was con- 
 veyed a close prisoner to the castle of Madrid, al- 
 lowed no honourable pastime, and deprived of the 
 expectation of seeing Charles. The keen sense of 
 indignity, disappointment, and misfortune pressed 
 upon his mind, and reduced him to such a low 
 despondent state, that the physicians despaired of 
 his recovery, unless the emperor would have the 
 humanity to visit him, with some assurance of 
 freedom. Charles had received the news of the 
 victory of Pavia with Tiberian hypocrisy. He 
 forbade, among his subjects, all demonstrations of 
 joy, and affected to be impressed with sentiments 
 which were not natural, nor such as he could feel. 
 The peculiar malady of Francis disconcerted his 
 craftiness. He had not decided in what manner to 
 act ; and the death of the captive would render the 
 victory comparatively fruitless. But he was ad- 
 monished, that he could not comply with the sug- 
 gestions of the physicians without setting Francis 
 free ; or without incurring the disgraceful imputa- 
 tion of having desired the preservation of his life 
 only to satisfy his own avarice. Sovereigns are 
 not bound by the predilections of men ; but it is 
 an essential part of their duty to ennoble the topics 
 of human admiration by the grandeur of their ge- 
 
116 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 nerosity. Charles, however, though at this period 
 only in the twenty-fifth year of his age, had sur- 
 vived the disinterestedness of youth, and despised 
 the unprofitable heroism of chivalry. He visited 
 Francis ; seated himself, with unfelt kindness, be- 
 side his couch ; and, by the practice of fraudulent 
 compassion, renovated the hope and life that were 
 on the point of expiring. 
 
 XVI. The preparations formed in England for 
 the vigorous prosecution of the war, and which 
 Henry, on receiving the news of Francis's defeat, 
 had exultingly ordered to be directed against 
 France, were continued in order to provide for the 
 consequences which were apprehended from the 
 conduct of the emperor. But the expense had al- 
 ready greatly exceeded the sums voted by the con- 
 vocation and by parliament: in consequence, it 
 was resolved to levy an extraordinary contribution, 
 under the name of a benevolence. Commissions 
 were accordingly issued to all the shires, requiring 
 the sixth part of every layman's, and the fourth 
 part of every churchman's plate and coin, to be 
 delivered for the king's use. The rage which the 
 publication of this exorbitant stretch of preroga- 
 tive excited against the king and the cardinal, 
 made it soon evident that the expedient could not 
 succeed. On this occasion the citizens of London 
 were again conspicuously reluctant. Several pub- 
 lic meetings of the members of the corporation 
 were held without coming to any decision. Wol- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 117 
 
 sey became impatient. He sent for the mayor and 
 aldermen, and demanded if they really meant to 
 execute their commission. Because if they did 
 not, he would himself claim the benevolence. A 
 counsellor, whom the magistrates had brought with 
 them, observed that, by a statute of King Richard 
 III., benevolences could not be exacted. " Your 
 grace," said he, " may, no doubt, obtain some- 
 thing from individuals ; but it will either be by 
 the dread of your power, or the hope of your fa- 
 vour." The Cardinal replied, that he was sur- 
 prised to hear any precedent alleged from the 
 usurpation of Richard. " But, my lord," said this 
 firm and intrepid citizen, " many of his laws are 
 excellent ; and they are all sanctioned by parlia- 
 ment, which exercises the authority of the whole 
 realm." In the deliberations of the common coun- 
 cil of the city it had, prior to this meeting, been 
 resolved, that the aldermen should severally apply 
 to their respective wards for the benevolence ; the 
 lord mayor, therefore, hearing that benevolences 
 were contrary to law, and observing the Cardinal 
 tacitly assenting to the truth of the counsellor's re- 
 mark, fell on his knees, and entreated that the re- 
 solution, since it appeared to be illegal, might be 
 rescinded. "I am content so far," said Wolsey, 
 " but what will you and the aldermen here give ?" 
 M Pardon me, my lord," answered the mayor, 
 " were I to promise, personally, any grant, it 
 might cost me my life ;" alluding to the indigna* 
 
118 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tion it might occasion in the city. " Your life !" 
 observed the Cardinal, " that is truly a marvel- 
 lous fine word for your loyalty ! Will the citizens 
 put it in jeopardy ? If they dare to do so, they 
 shall certainly feel the king's power. My lord 
 mayor, let you and your citizens, if you be dis- 
 pleased with any thing in this demand, respect- 
 fully, and in a proper manner, come to me, and I 
 will endeavour to procure you satisfaction. In the 
 meantime, collect the money, and place it where 
 you think it may be safe, that, if the king shall not 
 happen to need it for the war, it may be returned 
 to the contributors." From the tenor of this con- 
 versation, it is evident that the Cardinal was ap- 
 prized of the difficulty of his situation with the 
 people; and also, that there was some indisposi- 
 tion, the effect of the emperor's policy, in the go- 
 vernment to prosecute the war. 
 
 XVII. The murmurs in the metropolis were 
 trifling, compared to the vehement discontent 
 which prevailed in other parts of the kingdom. 
 Some of the commissioners were intimidated from 
 their duty, and others exasperated the people by 
 intolerable insolence. The Duke of Suffolk had, 
 in his county, succeeded in persuading many of 
 the wealthy manufacturers to comply with the 
 wishes of government ; but when they returned 
 to their own homes, crowds assembled and riot- 
 ously attacked them. The duke ordered, in con- 
 sequence, the constables to seize all the warlike 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 119 
 
 weapons in private houses, which enraged the mul- 
 titude still more. The alarm-bells were rung, and 
 about four thousand men appeared in arms, threat- 
 ening with death all the abettors of the benevo- 
 lence. Suffolk hastily summoned the gentlemen 
 of the county, ordered the bridges to be broken, 
 and requested Surrey, who, by the death of his 
 father, was now Duke of Norfolk, to come to his 
 assistance. As the restoration of tranquillity, ra- 
 ther than punishment, was the object, Norfolk, on 
 his arrival, rode up to the insurgents, and with 
 that manly affability which is always found con- 
 nected with great talents of every kind, and which 
 constitutes one of the chief ingredients of a gene- 
 ral's character, he endeavoured to pacify their 
 anger, and advised them to retire. " Poverty and 
 Necessity," they exclaimed, Qi have incited and led 
 us on, and without redress, as we can but die, we 
 will not disperse." He entreated them still to re- 
 turn quietly to their homes and callings, and as- 
 sured them, that Suffolk and himself would speak 
 in their behalf to the king. At length the ring- 
 leaders surrendered, and were taken to London, 
 and the rest, in token of repentance, went with 
 halters round their necks to the abbey of St Ed- 
 mund, and, having done this penance, peacefully 
 dispersed. The rumour of these discontents and 
 insurrections had in the meanwhile alarmed the 
 king, who, having ordered the privy counsellors to 
 meet in the Cardinal's palace, indignantly address- 
 
120 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ed them to the following effect : — " By whose au- 
 thority have the commissions for the benevolence 
 been so rigidly enforced ? It was not my intention 
 to ask any thing contrary to law ; I must there- 
 fore be informed by whose advice this grievance 
 has been committed." Each of the counsellors 
 endeavoured to exculpate himself, but Wolsey 
 answered, " When it was deliberated in what 
 manner the money for the public exigencies should 
 be levied, the whole council and the judges of the 
 land agreed that any benevolence might be sought 
 by commission. For myself, I take God to wit- 
 ness, that I never desired to oppress the people ; 
 but, since every man lays the blame from him, I 
 will take it on myself, and answer to the clamour 
 of the nation !" There was so much honest magna- 
 nimity in this speech, that it appears to have sen- 
 sibly affected the king, who immediately said, — 
 " Some of you did tell me, that England was ne- 
 ver before so rich, — that no trouble would arise 
 from this demand, and that every man would freely 
 give at my requesting. The truth, I see, is other- 
 wise, and therefore there shall be no more of this 
 vexation. Let letters instantly be sent to the shires to 
 stop this unhappy business." Letters were sent ac- 
 cordingly, in which it was declared that the Cardinal 
 had authorised the commissions, sanctioned by the 
 opinion of the judges and the general sentiment of the 
 king'scouncil, and that, at his intercession, they were 
 again recalled. The leaders of the Suffolk hisur- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 121 
 
 rection, after this, were taken from the prison to 
 the Star Chamber, where the Cardinal, presiding, 
 rebuked them sharply for their offence. He placed 
 before their imaginations the havoc and ruin which 
 they might have entailed on themselves and others ; 
 " but his majesty," said he, " notwithstanding 
 the greatness of the crime, is pleased to pardon, 
 provided that securities are found for future good 
 behaviour.*" The prisoners answered, that they 
 had no sureties to offer. " Indeed," replied the 
 Cardinal, " then my lord of Norfolk, here, will be 
 one for you, and, as you are my countymen, I 
 will be the other.' 1 And they were dismissed from 
 the bar, and returned cheerfully home. Thus ter- 
 minated a series of transactions which might have 
 filled the nation with calamities ; and thus a rebel- 
 lion was quelled without bloodshed in the field, or 
 that wasteful retribution which the judicature, on 
 such occasions, is too strongly prone to exercise. 
 
 XVIII. In order to ascertain how far Charles 
 actually entertained those ambitious and unjust de- 
 signs, which the Italian states conceived they had 
 reason to fear, ambassadors were sent from London 
 to demand from him an immediate fulfilment of the 
 terms of his different treaties with Henry. They 
 were instructed to urge, that as the war had been 
 made at the common expense of the two monarchs, 
 their sovereign should participate in the fruits of 
 the battle of Pavia ; and therefore, in treating with 
 Francis, it ought to be stipulated, that those pro- 
 
122 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 vinces of France, which were considered as the 
 rightful inheritance of the English kings, should 
 be restored to Henry. If this could not be ob- 
 tained by negotiation, then Charles should invade 
 France from the Spanish frontiers, while Henry 
 entered by the way of Picardy ; and that both 
 should continue the war until the king was satis- 
 fied. As it was agreed in the treaty of Windsor, 
 that each should deliver up to the other all the 
 usurpers of their respective rights, it was required, 
 that on the same day in which the Princess Mary, 
 the bride betrothed of the emperor, was consigned 
 to his ministers, the French king should be de- 
 livered to English officers. The ambassadors 
 were also instructed to say, that the emperor 
 ought the more readily to comply with their 
 king's wishes in these things ; for, being contract- 
 ed to the heiress of his crown, all the advan- 
 tage would in the end devolve on himself. The 
 validity of these requisitions Charles could not dis- 
 pute ; but it was evident, from their extent, that 
 they constituted only a diplomatic stratagem, by 
 which the obloquy of failing in the engagements 
 would fall upon him. To the application of the 
 ministers he returned a general, and, of course, an 
 unsatisfactory answer. 
 
 XIX. Meanwhile, ambassadors came from Paris, 
 and were received with great distinction and much 
 compassion by Henry. In their interview with 
 Wolscy, they were, however, treated more accord- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 123 
 
 ing to the deserts of their government. He repre- 
 sented to them how perfidious the conduct of 
 France had been ; how unsteady to her engage- 
 ments ; and, but for the gracious intentions of his 
 master, how abject she must become. They re- 
 plied, with the characteristic humility of French- 
 men in distress, " If we have offended, surely you 
 have punished us severely. Our towns have been 
 sacked, our people slain, our country desolated, 
 and brought low in misery, we sue for peace." 
 With ambassadors so humble, it was not difficult 
 to negotiate ; but the design of the Cardinal was 
 not to reduce France, but to restore the equilibri- 
 um of Europe, the great purpose and aim of all his 
 political undertakings. The treaty concluded, in 
 consequence, was singularly generous. It was, in 
 fact, a defensive league between the two nations. 
 Henry engaged to procure the deliverance of Fran- 
 cis ; two millions of crowns, payable in twenty 
 years, by annual instalments, were accepted for the 
 debts and tribute due from France to England ; 
 and a bond for a hundred thousand crowns was 
 given to Wolsey, in consideration of the arrears of 
 his pension for the bishopric of Tournay, and the 
 loss that he might incur by a rupture with the 
 emperor, as he held at this time the bishoprics of 
 Placentia and Badajos, in Spain, besides a pension 
 from Charles himself. The arrears due to the 
 king's sister, the dowager of France, were also to 
 be paid, and her jointure regularly continued. 
 
124 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 The regency of France further engaged, that the 
 Duke of Albany should not return to Scotland 
 during the remainder of the minority of James V. 
 The treaty arranged was duly ratified by the king ; 
 and peace was proclaimed, in terms flattering to 
 the national pride. 
 
 XX. The effects of this treaty renovated the 
 spirit of the French nation. The Italian states ac- 
 quired additional confidence in the measures which 
 they had adopted, to prevent the aggressions of 
 the Imperialists ; and England maintained herself 
 more firmly than ever, on the lofty eminence on 
 which she stood among the nations of Europe. 
 Charles, alarmed by the extent of the confederacy 
 that was rising against him, and by the progress 
 of the Turks in Hungary, hastily concluded, con- 
 trary to the advice of his ministers, the treaty of 
 Madrid with Francis. The first article in the 
 execution of this impolitic engagement was, the 
 exchange of the French king, which ought, cer- 
 tainly, to have been the last, as the terms were 
 such as the French nation was not likely willingly 
 to fulfil ; although the children of the king were to 
 be delivered as hostages. 
 
 XXI. The Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, 
 on the day appointed for the exchange, were 
 brought to Bayonne, by the regent, their grand- 
 mother, and the officers of state. Francis was at 
 the same time conveyed to Fonterabia, a small 
 town on the sea-coast, between the province of Bis- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 125 
 
 cay and the dutchy of Guyen. Accompanied by 
 two persons of high rank, and surrounded by ca- 
 valry, he was conducted to the river which separates 
 the frontiers of France and Spain. The princes of 
 France, with their attendants, arrived at the same 
 time on the opposite side. The banks were crowd- 
 ed with spectators. In the middle of the stream 
 lay a vessel at anchor. No person was permitted 
 to be on board. Francis, with the two imperial 
 officers, and eight men, armed with short weapons, 
 entered a barge, and were rowed towards the 
 vessel. At the same moment, his children, simi- 
 larly attended, also embarked. The spectators 
 were silent. The boats reached the vessel. The 
 king and the princes were put on board. The 
 children, in silence, passed across the deck to the 
 boat which their father had quitted. He looked 
 at them ; sighed deeply ; hastily sprung into theirs ; 
 was rapidly conveyed to his own kingdom, and wel- 
 comed with shouts and acclamations by his soldiers 
 and subjects. An Arabian horse, provided for the 
 purpose, stood ready caparisoned on the strand. 
 Francis vaulted into the saddle, and exultingly ex- 
 claimed, as he galloped away, " I am again a 
 king r 
 
 XXII. As all Europe expected, Francis was 
 not long in convincing Charles that the treaty of 
 Madrid was never intended to be fulfilled. The 
 resolution taken, pretexts for delay were easily 
 found ; and no opportunity was lost, by which the 
 3 
 
126 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 French thought they could reduce the ransom of 
 their princes. The emperor, enraged, insisted upon 
 the terms of the treaty ; but, in the meantime, 
 Soliman, the sultan, was advancing upon Hun- 
 gary. Italy was full of uproar and war. England 
 alone, of all the Christian nations, enjoyed, in her 
 insular protection, the blessings of peace. In the 
 invasion of Hungary, Louis, the king, was killed, 
 while flying from the Turks, after a defeat as fatal 
 as the battle of Flodden had been to Scotland. 
 Ferdinand, the brother of Charles, in right of his 
 wife, sister to Louis, succeeded to the throne, and 
 a truce was concluded with Soliman. But John 
 Lepuse, governor of Transylvania, pretending that 
 the majority of the Hungarian nobles had chosen him 
 for their king, complained to several of the Chris- 
 tian princes of Ferdinand's usurpation. Soliman, 
 foreseeing the confusion that would arise from this 
 rivalry, prepared to renew the invasion. Ferdi- 
 nand, fearful of the consequences, sent ambassa- 
 dors to England, and implored the assistance of 
 Henry, his uncle. But, as the English govern- 
 ment attributed the progress which the sultan had 
 been allowed to make wholly to the ambitious war- 
 fare which the emperor still continued to wage, 
 the embassy proved abortive. The ministers were 
 told, that as the brother of their master would not 
 agree to any reasonable terms of accommodation 
 with Francis, the princes of Christendom could not 
 unite against the infidels, and that Soliman must 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 127 
 
 of course prevail. It could not, indeed, be ex- 
 pected, that while Charles pursued only his own 
 schemes of aggrandisement, to the manifest destruc- 
 tion of the balance of power, that England, pro- 
 tectress of the balance, would virtually abet his 
 designs in Italy, by assisting Ferdinand. 
 
 XXIII. But before any decisive measures had 
 come to maturity for the restoration of the French 
 princes, an event happened in Italy still more 
 alarming to all Christendom than the battle of 
 Pavia. Clement, who, after that battle, had de- 
 clined to unite with the Venetians, finding his hope 
 of making better terms for himself frustrated, had 
 at length joined them and the other Italian states 
 in a league, which was called by his name, and of 
 which the King of England had been declared the 
 protector. Bourbon, in consequence, resolved to 
 seize the city of Rome, not only to punish the pope, 
 but to indemnify his troops for the hardships and 
 privations which they had long suffered. Leaving 
 umolested the army which the leaguers had collect- 
 ed in Tuscany, he marched directly to the metro- 
 polis; and encamping on the meadows, near the 
 Tyber, he demanded, by sound of trumpet, per- 
 mission to pass through the city to Naples. The 
 pope was astonished and defenceless. The whole 
 of his guards were with the army in Tuscany; 
 and he had only his anathemas to resist the Im- 
 perial soldiers. The Roman populace, however, 
 felt a glow of the spirit of their ancestors ; menials, 
 
128 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 grooms, and mechanics, voluntarily formed a bois- 
 terous but animating array ; while the rich and 
 the noble retired into their mansions, hoping, by 
 such pusillanimous neutrality, to be respected by 
 the conquerors ; thus serving to demonstrate, that 
 the bold and sturdy vulgar, who have only lives 
 to hazard, are ever the ready guardians of their 
 country, as they are of freedom. Clement, infa- 
 tuated by terror, without attempting to negotiate, 
 refused the summons. At break of day, the army, 
 which might be compared to gaunt and famished 
 wolves surrounding a fold, rose from the meadows, 
 and advanced towards the city. A thick mist con- 
 cealed the temples of Rome, and overshadowed 
 the monuments of her glory. The Imperialists ad- 
 vanced under it in silence. In the same moment 
 that the resolute but undisciplined multitude on 
 the walls discovered their approach, the assault 
 began. Bourbon, to animate his men, seized a 
 scaling-ladder, and, running forward, was shot, 
 and fell dead on the earth. The Prince of Orange 
 flung a cloak over the body, and called on the 
 soldiers to revenge the death of their general. 
 For two hours the citizens defended themselves 
 with a courageous constancy not unworthy of the 
 Roman name ; but one of those sudden panics, to 
 which undisciplined volunteers, of the bravest in- 
 dividual spirit, are always liable, suddenly seized 
 them, and they fled from their posts, abandoned 
 entirely to fear. The pope, attended by the ear- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 129 
 
 dinals and other high personages, was in the chapel 
 of the Vatican, standing at the altar, in anxious 
 dread of the event. The shrieks and cries of fly- 
 ing women and children were heard without. The 
 rites of religion were suspended. The noise rose 
 louder and louder. The clash of arms, and the 
 tumultuous sounds of fighting and vengeance, drew 
 nearer and nearer. The trembling prelates looked 
 at one another ; and the pope, hastily gathering up 
 the folds of his robes, ran precipitately, followed 
 by the spectators, to the castle of St Angelo. The 
 city became the victim of the rage and sensuality 
 of the assailants. The shrines were broken, and 
 the bones of holy men were scattered with derision 
 in the streets. The German soldiers, tainted with 
 the principles of Luther, were conspicuously active 
 in the profanation. The effigy of the pope was 
 burnt as antichrist. But it was not on the sense- 
 less objects of superstition that the licentiousness 
 of the soldiers was chiefly manifested. During the 
 pillage, a furious passion for gaming took posses- 
 sion of their minds. Some, loaded with plate and 
 treasure, were seen running to where their com- 
 panions sat at dice, and staking their whole spoil 
 on a throw, returned instantly to pillage more. 
 The dastardly nobles, shut up in their houses, en- 
 deavouring from the windows, to ransom them- 
 selves and their families, were obliged to treat with 
 every gang of plunderers, until they had nothing 
 left to offer ; and then they were compelled to wit- 
 
 i 
 

 130 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ness and endure the calamities and the shame which 
 they had vainly hoped to avert. Private mansions 
 were not the only scenes of slaughter and sensual 
 fury. The convents were burst open, and the mis- 
 erable nuns violated in the midst of corses and 
 blood. The lamentations of those who despaired 
 of escaping, or were made loathsome to themselves, 
 only served to instigate to new crimes. Some of 
 the soldiers, in the momentary glut of appetite, 
 with a wild hope of obliterating their guilt, set fire 
 to the theatres of these dreadful tragedies, and 
 consumed victims and violators together. The sol- 
 diers were not the only criminals. The citizens 
 joined in the carnival of sin ; and horrible desires 
 were openly gratified in the midst of murders and 
 the putrefactions of death. 
 
 XXIV. All Christendom was filled with horror 
 and grief. Henry vowed immediate vengeance 
 against Charles, whom he regarded as the cause of 
 transactions such as had never before disgraced 
 the Christian character, and of calamities, such as 
 Rome, in all the vicissitudes of her eventful for- 
 tune, had never before suffered. Nor was the 
 Cardinal less eager to avenge what had happened, 
 or to avert what might ensue. It was apprehended 
 that a vast sum would be levied on all the mem- 
 bers of the church for the ransom of the pope and 
 the papal city, and that privileges would be ex- 
 torted derogatory to the pontifical supremacy and 
 the independence of Christendom. To anticipate 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 131 
 
 these consequences, prompt and comprehensive 
 measures were necessary. A council was sum- 
 moned, and the flagrant proceedings of the impe- 
 rial army, as well as the conduct of the emperor, 
 were immediately considered. — When his circum- 
 stances rendered him scarcely a match for the 
 French king, he became a contrahent in the league 
 of London ; and when that league was violated by 
 the French, the English government performed all 
 its engagements and obligations. But immediately 
 after the battle of Pavia, when Charles conceived 
 himself master of the continent, and no longer un- 
 der any necessity of depending on the aid of Eng- 
 land, he assumed an insolence of demeanour which 
 he had never before manifested. In his letters to 
 Henry, his uncle, he laid aside the customary 
 courtesy and equality with which he had formerly 
 addressed him^ and assumed the arrogant style 
 of a superior. He treated Francis while in his 
 possession more as a culprit vassal of his own 
 than as a prisoner of war ; and could it be ex- 
 pected, that, master of the capital of Christendom, 
 and of the pope's person, his ambition would be 
 repressed ? It was, therefore, determined, that a 
 convention should immediately be concluded with 
 Francis, which should have for its object the de- 
 liverance of Clement ; and that, for this purpose, 
 Wolsey should proceed immediately to France, in 
 order to arrange the terms, and to concert the mea- 
 sures essential to give it effect. The objects of 
 
 2 
 
132 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 this embassy being deemed peculiarly solemn, the 
 preparations were unusually magnificent. The 
 Cardinal left London accompanied by many peers 
 and prelates, with a train of above a thousand ser- 
 vants, and eighty waggons loaded with baggage 
 and treasure. When he passed through Canter- 
 bury, prayers were performed in the cathedral for 
 the deliverance of the pope from his miserable 
 captivity ; and during the chanting of the pa- 
 thetic orison prepared for the occasion, Wolsey, 
 convinced of the instability of his own grandeur, 
 and touched, perhaps, with a presentiment of his 
 fall, was observed to shed tears. 
 
 XXV. The narrative of the Cardinal's journey 
 and progress in France strikingly displays his love 
 of magnificence, and the splendour of the age ; 
 but the details are more interesting to the anti- 
 quary than to the historian. Still, however, it 
 contains circumstances worthy of selection, as they 
 serve to illustrate his domestic character and the 
 decision of his mind in public affairs. When his 
 equipages were landed at Calais, and while the 
 French court was coming to meet him, he ordered 
 all his household into his presence, and addressed 
 them to the following effect : — " Yen know that 
 the king, for certain important affairs, lias ap- 
 pointed me on this occasion to be his lieutenant : 
 as such, I shall expect from you reverence accord- 
 ingly ; and I will take care, on my own part, to 
 preserve the dignity with which I have been in- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 133 
 
 vested. But it is necessary that I should caution 
 you with respect to the character of the persons 
 whom you are to meet. The nature of Frenchmen 
 will make them treat you at the first interview as 
 familiarly as if they were your old acquaintances ; 
 and they will speak to you in their French lan- 
 guage as though you understood every word. 
 Use them in the same way, and familiarly talk with 
 them in English, while they speak to you in French ; 
 so that if you do not understand them, they shall 
 not understand you ;" and he added, turning face- 
 tiously to one of his gentlemen who was a Welsh- 
 man, " Speak you to them in Welsh ; and I doubt 
 not but your language will be more puzzling to 
 them than theirs to you. But I pray you all to 
 be orderly, gentle, and polite ; that, after our de- 
 parture, it may be said, that you knew the duties 
 of your station, and the reverence belonging to 
 your lord ; for the commendations which may be 
 obtained by the propriety of your behaviour will 
 reflect honour on your prince and country. 11 From 
 Calais he went towards Amiens. Francis having, 
 as a mark of his singular esteem, and by the title 
 of his dearest and great friend, empowered him to 
 pardon all criminals, but those who had been guilty 
 of high treason, rape, and sacrilege, the Cardinal 
 exercised the royal prerogative of mercy in the dif- 
 ferent towns through which the embassy passed, 
 and the inhabitants entertained him with Latin 
 orations and triumphal processions. When he had 
 
134 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 arrived within a short distance of the city, word 
 was brought that Francis and the court were ad- 
 vancing to meet him. He immediately alighted, 
 and entering a small chapel which stood on the 
 road-side, he arrayed himself more sumptuously 
 than usual, and his mule was at the same time ca- 
 parisoned with gold and crimson velvet. By the 
 time he was again mounted, the king, with his 
 guards, had come very near. The Cardinal ad- 
 vanced a little way, and then stopped. Francis, 
 surprised, sent forward one of his attendants to in- 
 quire the reason. Wolsey said that he expected to 
 be met half-way. The messenger returned, and 
 the king advancing, the Cardinal also came for- 
 ward, and, both alighting at the same time, em- 
 braced in the midway between their respective re- 
 tinues. Francis having placed Wolsey on his 
 right, and each English gentleman and attendant 
 being marshalled with a Frenchman of equal rank, 
 the procession, extending nearly two miles in length, 
 proceeded to Amiens. After spending a few days 
 there, the court removed to the castle of Cam- 
 pcigne, which had been previously partitioned, one 
 division being appropriated for the French and 
 the other for the English. 
 
 XXVI. The business, which had been preluded 
 with so much grandeur, now seriously commenced. 
 Wolsey, during the discussions, was frequently ir- 
 ritated by the chicanery of the French ministers. 
 One evening, while Francis himself was present, 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 135 
 
 lie lost all patience, and, starting from his seat, 
 said to the French chancellor indignantly, — " Sir, 
 it becomes not you to trifle with the friendship be- 
 tween our sovereigns ; and if your master follow 
 your practices, he shall not fail shortly to feel what 
 it is to war against England ;" — and he immediate- 
 ly left the room, nor could he be persuaded to re- 
 sume the discussion, until the mother of Francis 
 had entreated him to return. The objects of his 
 mission, by this bold and singular diplomatic arti- 
 fice, were speedily brought to a conclusion. Three 
 several treaties, forming a league offensive, defen- 
 sive, and of affinity, were concluded. The first 
 related to a marriage between the Princess of Eng- 
 land and the Duke of Orleans, — the emperor, by 
 marrying the Princess of Portugal, having left her 
 free. The second concerned the affairs of Francis 
 and Charles, the deliverance of the French princes, 
 and the restoration of the duchy of Milan to 
 Sforza. In the event of Henry declaring war 
 against Charles, Francis agreed that the English 
 merchants should enjoy, in the French ports, 
 the same privileges they enjoyed in the imperial 
 dominions. The third treaty was, however, the 
 principal ; and, both as the object of the embassy, 
 and as the parent of events which have not, per- 
 haps, even at this day, ceased to operate, deserves 
 to be particularly noticed. 
 
 XXVII. It declared, that while the pope re- 
 mained a prisoner, no summons for a general coun- 
 
136 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 cil of the church should take effect within the do- 
 minions of France and England ; and the two 
 kings engaged, respectively, that their clergy should 
 publicly protest their detestation of any such con- 
 vocation. It was also declared, that any com- 
 mandment, sentence, bull, letter, or brief, proceed- 
 ing from the pope in his present situation, tend- 
 ing to the prejudice of the French or English na- 
 tions, or to the legatine authority of Cardinal 
 Wolsey, should not be obeyed, but that the bear- 
 ers of them should be punished ; and that during 
 the captivity of the pope, whatsoever the Cardi- 
 nal, in conjunction with the other prelates of Eng- 
 land, assembled by the king, determined in the ec- 
 clesiastical affairs of the English, should, when 
 sanctioned by his majesty, be valid and obligatory. 
 The like was settled by the French. Thus was a 
 radical alteration made in the constitution of 
 Christendom. Leo X., by becoming a party to 
 the league of London, had degraded the pope to 
 an equality with the secular princes. But this 
 treaty openly declared, that, even in ecclesiastical 
 affairs, the political authority was to be supreme ; 
 and Henry afterwards maintained the principle 
 with his characteristic vigour. 
 
 XXVIII. Charles, when informed that the 
 pope was his prisoner, and aware of the amazement 
 which the pillage of Rome had diffused throughout 
 Christendom, endeavoured to traffic with the tem- 
 per of Henry. He sent him a letter, in which the 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 1B7 
 
 excesses of the soldiery were palliated ; and, af- 
 fecting- to doubt what should be his own conduct 
 in so difficult a crisis, artfully solicited advice. To 
 the different foreign ministers at his court he was 
 equally plausible, but gave no satisfaction before 
 the terms of the treaties between France and Eng- 
 land were known. Then, in order to avert the 
 consequences, he offered to the French and Eng- 
 lish ambassadors, to give up those stipulations in 
 the treaty of Madrid which the French nation had 
 resolved not to fulfil ; and he sent orders to the 
 Prince of Orange, who, after the death of Bour- 
 bon, commanded the Imperialists in Rome, to set 
 the pope at liberty ; but to take care, that from a 
 friend he might not be able to become an enemy. 
 This oracular order puzzled the prince exceed- 
 ingly, who, being unable to expound it himself, 
 called a council of war. The plain and blunt sol- 
 diers who composed the council, having wasted a 
 long time in vain perplexity, at length decided, 
 that in a case so abstruse the main point should be 
 secured. They accordingly stripped the pope of 
 all he possessed in the castle, and turned him into 
 the streets, as the best way of executing the em- 
 peror's instructions. 
 
 XXIX. Before any advantage could be taken 
 of the politic moderation which Charles had assum- 
 ed on learning the result of Wolsey's embassy to 
 France, heralds from that country and England ar- 
 rived in his court and demanded an audience. The 
 
138 CARDINAL WOLSBY; 
 
 emperor ascended his throne, and being surround- 
 ed by his officers and nobles, they were admitted to 
 his presence ; and the English king at arms claimed 
 protection and entertainment in a speech, to the fol- 
 lowing effect : — " According to the laws and edicts, 
 inviolably guarded by the Roman emperors, your 
 predecessors, and by all other kings and princes, 
 we, in the name of our respective sovereigns, have 
 come to declare important matters ; and therefore 
 we beseech your majesty, out of your benign cle- 
 mency, to afford us, agreeably to those laws and 
 edicts, security and honourable treatment, while 
 we wait your answer ; and afterwards, to grant us 
 safe conduct till we return to the lands and lord- 
 ships of our masters." The emperor having as- 
 sented, in the customary form, to this request, the 
 French herald then stepped forward, and said, 
 " Because your imperial majesty will not agree to 
 equitable terms of peace ; nor pay your debts to 
 the King of England ; nor set the pope free ; nor 
 leave Italy in quietness, the king, my lord and 
 master, commands me to declare, that he and his 
 brother, the King of England, must henceforth 
 treat you as an enemy; and from this day forward he 
 will keep no contract for your profit and advantage ; 
 but he will exert against you and your subjects all 
 the annoyance of war, until, upon fair and honest 
 terms, you restore his sons ; set the pope free ; pay 
 the King of England ; and leave in tranquillity 
 all his allies and confederates : forty days" respite 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 139 
 
 is allowed to enable your subjects to withdraw 
 from his dominions, and he requires the like for 
 his subjects in yours." The herald then put on 
 his mantle ; and the emperor replied, " I perfectly 
 understand what you have said on the part of the 
 king your master ; but I am surprised by this de- 
 fiance ; for he is my prisoner, and not eligible to 
 send me a defiance. He has made war with me 
 long, and never did this before ; but I trust in 
 God that I shall be able to defend myself. No one 
 regrets what has happened to the pope more than I 
 do : it was done without my knowledge, and yes- 
 terday I received letters that he has been set at li- 
 berty. As for the sons of your king, it is not my 
 fault that they are not free ; I hold them in pawn, 
 and he should redeem them. And as to what you 
 say concerning my uncle the King of England, he 
 is not well informed of these affairs, otherwise he 
 would not have sent me this message : I will my- 
 self write to him the whole truth. I never re- 
 fused the payment of my debts, and I will act as I 
 am in justice bound. But if he will make war, I 
 must defend ; and I pray God that I may have no 
 greater occasion to make war on him than he has 
 received from me. 11 The English herald then an- 
 swered, " The king, my supreme lord, considers 
 peace necessary to the Christian world, that the 
 princes may combine to resist the Turk, who has 
 already taken Belgrade, and expelled the knights of 
 St John from the isle of Rhodes ; and that the here- 
 
140 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 sies and schismatic sects which have lately arisen 
 may be repressed. But your commanders and 
 army have sacked the city of Rome ; taken our 
 holy father prisoner ; put the cardinals to ransom ; 
 sacrilegiously profaned the churches; slain with 
 the sword religious persons of all descriptions, till 
 the air and the earth have been infected, and the 
 Wrath of Heaven has come down demanding repar- 
 ation. The debates and contentions between you 
 and the French king are the roots and causes of 
 these evils ; and my sovereign has in vain proposed 
 to you terms of reconciliation. These things, with 
 those that have been related by the French herald, 
 have induced him to adopt an ultimate resolution. 
 He has concluded a league with Francis and other 
 confederates, to constrain you, by force of arms, to 
 act with equity ; and I am authorised to offer, once 
 for all, the conditions which have been already pro- 
 posed. 1 "' He concluded the defiance with the pro- 
 posal of forty days 1 respite. Having put on his 
 mantle, the emperor answered to the same effect as 
 he did to the other herald ; and afterwards wrote a 
 long representation, in which he recapitulated many 
 circumstances of complaint, which he had against 
 the government of Henry, and particularly against 
 Cardinal Wolsey. — England gained nothing by the 
 wasteful wars in which she had embarked chiefly 
 on his account : Charles endeavoured to appro- 
 priate all the fruits of the battle of Pavia to him- 
 self, in despite of positive stipulations by treaty ; 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 141 
 
 and, by the sack of Rome, the frame of Christen- 
 dom, of which Henry was the declared champion 
 and defender, was nearly overthrown. 
 
 XXX. Wolsey, after his return from France, 
 on opening the Michaelmas term, addressed the 
 judges and the other eminent persons then assem- 
 bled upon the subject of his embassy, and the trea- 
 ties which he had concluded with Francis ; stating, 
 that such was the reciprocity and friendship esta- 
 blished between the two kingdoms, that they 
 would in future appear but as one monarchy. But 
 the nation could not understand how it was for 
 their advantage that the king should become so fa- 
 miliar with their old and deadly enemy, and aban- 
 don his own nephew, for whose behalf he had so 
 urgently asked them for money ; and they had 
 ceased to feel much interest in the fate of the pope. 
 The merchants foresaw the loss of their trade with 
 Spain and the Netherlands ; and doubted if all the 
 advantages which might be derived from the open- 
 ing of the French ports would be an equivalent. 
 A new war was also probable; and the people, 
 unable to comprehend the views of the Cardinal, 
 but witnessing his ostentation and arrogance, be- 
 gan to be infected by the discontents of the nobi- 
 lity and ecclesiastics,* whom he had mortified by 
 his talents, and offended by his justice. Wolsey 
 had indeed attained the meridian of his fortune. 
 In every transaction abroad, his name was men- 
 tioned and his influence felt. The learned and 
 
142 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the artists of all countries came trooping to his 
 gates, and the kingdom resounded with the fame 
 of his affluence, and the noise of the buildings 
 which he was erecting to luxury and to knowledge. 
 His revenues, derived from the fines in the legatine 
 court, the archbishopric of York, the bishopric 
 of Winchester, and the abbey of St Albaifs, with 
 several other English bishoprics, which were held 
 by foreigners, but assigned to him at low rents for 
 granting them the privilege of living abroad, to- 
 gether with his pensions from Charles and Francis, 
 the emoluments of the chancellorship, the revenues 
 of the bishoprics of Badajos and Placentia in Spain, 
 with rich occasional presents from all the allies of 
 the king, and the wealth and domains of forty 
 dissolved monasteries, formed an aggregate of in- 
 come equal to the royal revenues. His house ex- 
 hibited the finest productions of art which such 
 wealth could command in the age of Leo X. The 
 walls of his chambers were hung with cloth of gold, 
 and tapestry still more precious, representing the 
 most remarkable events in sacred history, for the 
 easel was then subordinate to the loom. His floors 
 were covered with embroidered carpets, and side- 
 boards of cypress were loaded with vessels of gold. 
 The sons of the nobility, according to the fashion 
 of the age, attended him as pages ; and the daily 
 service of the household corresponded to the opu- 
 lence and ostentation of the master. 
 
 XXXI. The entertainment which the Cardinal 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 143 
 
 gave at Hampton Court to the French commission- 
 ers, sent to ratify the league, offensive and defen- 
 sive, exceeded in splendour every banquet which 
 had before that time been exhibited in England. 
 Two hundred and eighty beds, with furniture of 
 the costliest silks and velvets, and as many ewers 
 and basins of silver, were prepared for the guests. 
 The halls were illuminated with innumerable 
 sconces and branches of plate. Supper was an- 
 nounced by the sound of trumpets, and served 
 with triumphal music. But the master was not 
 yet come. He had been detained late in London, 
 and the dessert, which consisted of figures, castles, 
 and cathedrals, in confectionary, with all the em- 
 blems of ecclesiastical pomp, and the pageants of 
 chivalry, was on the tables, when he entered, boot- 
 ed and spurred. Having welcomed the guests^ he 
 called for a golden bowl, filled with hippocras : the 
 the French commissioners were served at the same 
 time with another, and they reciprocally drank to 
 the health of their respective sovereigns. He then 
 retired to dress; and, returning speedily to the 
 company, exerted those convivial talents which had 
 first contributed to the attainment of this excessive 
 grandeur. The Frenchmen doubted which most 
 to admire, the mansion, the feast, or the master. 
 Wolsey felt exultingly gratified, and the measure 
 of his greatness could hold no more. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 It may still be said, as in the days of Queen Eliza- 
 beth, that Ireland seems reserved by Almighty 
 God for woes which shall come by her upon Eng- 
 land. Causes intrinsically similar to those which 
 agitated that unfortunate country in the age of 
 Henry VIII., have stained the annals of the pre- 
 sent reign with blood. The terrible constancy 
 with which the people have reviled, for more than 
 six hundred years, the English system of rule, 
 must be ascribed to the effect of something vicious 
 in that system. Nor can this be denied. By call- 
 ing the descendants of the English who settled in 
 Ireland subsequent to the time of Henry II. pro- 
 testants, and the aboriginal inhabitants catholics, 
 the relative condition of the people will appear to 
 have continued unaltered since that epoch ; and 
 yet, in all the series of the ministers who have sue- 
 cessively ruled England, will it found that any one 
 of them has pursued a wiser policy than that of 
 Cardinal Wolsey ? 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 145 
 
 II. The earliest authentic descriptions of the 
 Irish represent them as a frank kind-hearted peo- 
 ple, much under the influence of the imagination, 
 enthusiastic in all their passions and pursuits, amo- 
 rous, fond of renown, delighted with war, generous 
 to the distressed, and hospitable to friends and 
 strangers. When polished by education, they ex- 
 cel in the convivial fascination of wit and humour ; 
 and they are the most eloquent of all the modern 
 nations. The lower classes are faithful and affec- 
 tionate where they form attachments ; but the 
 strength of their passions makes them lax in their 
 morality. They have little ambition, the conse- 
 quence of ignorance, and they entertain for their 
 masters sentiments that would become the humi- 
 lity of an inferior cast. The men are well formed, 
 tall, and clear-complex ioned ; and the women are 
 more remarkable for the symmetry of their arms 
 and limbs, than for the beauty of their features. 
 In the days of Campion the men wore their hair 
 cropped close, leaving on their forehead a large 
 tuft, which they thought added to the manliness 
 of their countenance ; and in the present age the 
 same fashion has been revived. To their national 
 customs the Irish have always been strongly at- 
 tached, valuing antiquity more than utility. In 
 the time of Wolsey, those who were skilled in the 
 delicacy of their native language affected to be 
 enraptured by the allusions and apophthegms of 
 the bards and jesters. The chieftains retained 
 
 K 
 
146 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tale-tellers, who invented stories for their amuse- 
 ment ; and the delight which the nation has always 
 received from wonderful tales has drawn upon 
 Irishmen the imputation of being credulous. 
 
 III. The feudal system was never generally esta- 
 blished in Ireland. The English adventurers in 
 the expedition of Henry II. doubtless received 
 their portions of his conquest on the condition of 
 rendering military service ; but he only subdued a 
 small part of the kingdom, and the ancient usages 
 retained, beyond the English bounds, in the reign 
 of Henry VIII., much of their primitive pecu- 
 liarity. The aboriginal Irish law of territorial in- 
 heritance was probably similar to what prevailed in 
 the northern parts of Europe, before the feudal 
 system was established. It seems to have been an 
 early offset from the more ancient and patriarchal 
 rule of clanship. The territorial heir was not, as 
 in Scotland among the clans, the military successor 
 of his father ; nor, as in feudatory states, the su- 
 perior of the inhabitants of his domain. For, when 
 a commander happened to die, the people resorted 
 to a known appointed place, in order to choose ano- 
 ther leader ; and the relation of the deceased who 
 was most admired for his hardihood and exploits was 
 generally preferred, without reference to his degree 
 of consanguinity. When the election was declared, 
 the successful candidate was placed on a stone con- 
 secrated by the use of ages for that purpose. It 
 commonly stood on the to}) of a hill, and had a foot 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 147 
 
 engraved on it, alleged to be the form of that of 
 the first commander of the district to which the 
 stone belonged. While standing on the stone, the 
 chief took an oath to preserve all the customs of 
 the country, and the rights of the tanist, or terri T 
 torial heir. A wand was then delivered to him by 
 an officer appointed for that part of the ceremony ; 
 and, on receiving it, he descended from the stone, 
 and turning thrice round, backwards and forwards, 
 completed his inauguration. The military com- 
 mand being thus distinct from the possession of the 
 land, domains in Ireland were said to be regulated 
 by tanistry ; and to this peculiarity, and the usages 
 attached to it, the multitudinous funerals of the 
 Irish populace, and their custom of assembling in 
 crowds on raths and hills, to discuss their public 
 grievances, may be distinctly traced. The origin 
 of an evil which still severely afflicts the nation 
 may also be attributed to those ancient customs, 
 although the causes which serve to prolong that 
 evil cannot now be ascribed to the exercise of po- 
 pular rights. Under the feudal system, the land- 
 lord was induced to cultivate the affection of his 
 vassals, that he might himself the more eminently 
 perform his military service. He allowed them, in 
 consequence, not only to acquire independent pro- 
 perty, but to obtain an interest in the soil. As the 
 system fell into decay, the descendants of those vas- 
 sals who had judiciously managed the favours of 
 their chief gradually formed the yeomen. But 
 
148 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the tanistry-proprietor having no motive to study 
 the predilections of his tenants, sought only to 
 increase his income ; and, accordingly, even while 
 the feudal system and practices were still in some 
 degree of force in the neighbouring kingdoms, it 
 was considered as a great misfortune to Ireland 
 that the lands were let at rack-rents from year to 
 year, and often only during pleasure. 
 
 IV. Among other usages which, in the days of 
 Wolsey, stinted the improvement of the Irish, the 
 Brehon law deserves to be particularly noticed. 
 By it, all crimes seemed to be estimated only as 
 injuries done to the individuals who suffered ; and 
 as such were considered as eligible to be compro- 
 mised at the option of the injured. The widow 
 might compound with the murderer of her husband; 
 the son with his father's ; and, in all the varieties 
 of offence, delinquents were not responsible to the 
 public, but only to the offended. This singular 
 traditionary rule of right, in principle so different 
 from the divine and civil laws, is the strongest 
 proof that can be adduced of the originality and 
 antiquity of the Irish nation. The progress of 
 jurisprudence tends to take criminal prosecutions 
 out of the hands of individuals, and to vest them 
 in public ministers : perhaps even in civil actions 
 it has the same tendency ; at least, the expense of 
 obtaining legal satisfaction in England has become 
 so enormous, that many men submit to consider- 
 able losses, rather than incur the charges of the 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 149 
 
 lawyers ; and it has been found necessary to autho- 
 rise the justices of the peace to decide those small 
 suits of creditors, which are supposed to affect the 
 claims and dealings of the labouring class. But the 
 progress of improvement is slow, and the abolition 
 of opinions, which have become habitual, like those 
 which relate to the principles and forms of judicial 
 proceeding, requires long patience and diligent per- 
 severance. It has been the peculiar destiny of 
 Ireland, owing to the exclusive distinction which 
 England has always made between the two great 
 classes into which she has held the inhabi- 
 tants, never to have been so steadily treated, as 
 to enable her people to acquire those regular 
 habits which result from a long-continued admi- 
 nistration of uniform law. Ireland has been as 
 often exposed to the hardships of military rule as 
 she has enjoyed the benefits of civil discipline. 
 After the invasion of Henry II., and prior to the 
 contest between the families of York and Lancas- 
 ter, some progress was made in subjecting the sub- 
 jects within the English pale to the laws of the so- 
 vereign. But at the unhappy revolution, by which 
 Henry VI. was deposed, many of the nobility, and 
 other influential persons of English origin, came 
 over to this country, and took a part in the civil 
 wars ; and the wild Irish, as the inhabitants be- 
 yond the pale were called, burst in upon the civi- 
 lized, and laid waste their cultivation; so that, when 
 Henry VIII. came to the throne, scarce a trace of 
 
150 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 it remained. The popular feuds and animosities 
 were exasperated to the utmost. The subjects of 
 English extraction enjoyed all the public distribu- 
 tion of power ; while the aboriginal race, by far 
 the most numerous, sustained the contumelious 
 treatment of an inferior religious order, and were 
 deemed incapable of enjoying the beneficence of 
 jurisprudence. Continual insurrections, midnight 
 ravages, and frightful assassinations, were the con- 
 sequence. The alarm was nightly sounded ; and 
 the mischief arising from a divided people was con- 
 sidered as a reason for perpetuating the distinc- 
 tions that produced it. 
 
 V. "When Wolsey was appointed prime minister, 
 Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, was deputy of 
 Ireland. His father, Earl Thomas, for more than 
 thirty years, had enjoyed the same trust, and in 
 the course of that time the power of the family 
 had been much augmented ; but his contentions 
 with James Butler, Earl of Ormond, had proved 
 injurious to the prosperity of the country. In 
 the great debate of the York and Lancaster ques- 
 tion, they had taken opposite sides ; and, by that 
 means, spread in Ireland calamities similar to those 
 which ravaged England. Kildare embraced the 
 cause of the York family, and Ormond that of the 
 Lancaster. After the death of Earl Thomas, Ge- 
 rald was appointed deputy, and some steps were 
 taken to improve the condition of the people. His 
 administration commenced, indeed, favourably to 
 
CARDINAL WOLSBY. 151 
 
 the interests of his country ; and he reduced the 
 inhabitants, if not into subjection, at least into awe. 
 In order to end the feud between the Geraldines 
 and the Butlers, he matched his sister Margaret 
 with Pierce Butler, Earl of Ossory ; whom, at the 
 decease of Earl James, the rival of his father, he 
 assisted to rescue the earldom of Ormond from the 
 usurpation of a bastard. Whether, in the mode 
 or means of accomplishing this, he had exceeded 
 the limits of his authority, and put forth a vigour 
 beyond the law, or was falsely accused, is not very 
 clear ; but he was called by the Cardinal to Eng- 
 land in order to answer, before the privy council, 
 to charges of misdemeanour. His successor was 
 Surrey, whose administration has been already al- 
 luded to ; and which was still more distinguished 
 than Gerald Fitzgerald, by efforts to advance the 
 authority of the laws, and to improve the judi- 
 cature. 
 
 VI. One day, as Surrey sat at dinner in the 
 castle of Dublin, he was informed that the clan of 
 Omore was up in great force, and violating the 
 English pale. The troops were immediately or- 
 dered out, and, headed by himself, proceeded to 
 attack them. An incident which took place in this 
 affair is singularly characteristic of the men and of 
 the times. The mayor of Dublin, John Fitz- 
 simons, raised a party of volunteers, and next 
 morning joined the lord lieutenant. The Omores, 
 m the king's forces approached, divided themselves 
 
152 CARDIAL WOLSEY. 
 
 into companies ; one of which, understanding that 
 the baggage dragging behind was slenderly guard- 
 ed, passed into the rear of the citizens, and at- 
 tacked the guard, among which were some of the 
 lord-lieutenanfs men, who instantly fled. The 
 baggage, thus deserted, would have been cap- 
 tured, but for the bravery of a relation of the 
 mayor,' Patrick Fitzsimons, a stout and resolute 
 youth, who manfully compelled the rebels to re- 
 treat. Having himself killed two, he cut off their 
 heads, which he carried with him to the mayor's 
 tent. The soldiers who had fled so dastardly, con- 
 ceiving that the baggage must have been lost, told 
 their lord that Patrick Fitzsimons ran away, and 
 that the rebels were too numerous for them to 
 resist. The earl went instantly to the mayor in 
 anger, and told him, that Patrick was a cowardly 
 traitor in deserting his duty. " What am I ?" 
 cried the youth, starting out of the pavilion in his 
 shirt, with a bloody head dangling in each hand ; 
 " My lord, I am no coward ; I stood true while 
 your men gave me the slip ; I rescued the bag- 
 gage, and these are the tokens of my manhood," 
 throwing down the heads. " Say est thou so, 
 Fitzsimons ?" cried Surrey, pleased with his spirit, 
 " I cry thee mercy, and, by St George, I would 
 to God I had been with thee in that skirmish." 
 He then called for a bowl of wine, and, drinking 
 to the volunteer, rewarded his valour. Soon after 
 this insurgency, which wbb speedily quelled, war 
 
CARDINAL WttLSEY. 15 J 
 
 being proclaimed against France and Scotland, 
 Surrey was recalled home, and appointed to the 
 army on the Scottish borders. His valour, inte- 
 grity, and good humour, established his reputa- 
 tion as a statesman among the Irish, by whom he 
 was Ions after remembered with affectionate es- 
 teem. 
 
 VII. The Earl of Ossory, who had married 
 Margaret Fitzgerald, was next appointed deputy. 
 In the meantime, Kildare was acquitted in Eng- 
 land, and, having married a sister of the Marquis 
 of Dorset, returned to Ireland. Notwithstanding 
 the marriage of Ossory, the Geraldines still hated 
 the Butlers ; and his administration was, in conse- 
 quence, so troubled by their disputes, that it was 
 deemed necessary to send commissioners from Eng- 
 land to endeavour, by civil means, to restore the 
 public tranquillity. The result of their inquiries 
 proving disadvantageous to Ossory, he was de- 
 posed, and Kildare reinstated in the lieutenancy. 
 At their return, they brought with them a Fitz- 
 gerald, who, during Ossory "s administration, had 
 murdered an Irish privy-counsellor for keeping a 
 record of the excesses of the Geraldines. While 
 the murderer, after his condemnation, was led, 
 with a halter round his neck, and a taper in his 
 hand, slowly through the streets of London to- 
 wards the place of execution, a pardon was ob- 
 tained for him. The Cardinal was vexed by this 
 unexpected, and, as he thought, injudicious inter- 
 
154 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 position of the regal mercy; and his chagrin, 
 though occasioned by the love of justice, was con- 
 strued into an opinion, that he was hostile to the 
 blood of the Geraldines. 
 
 VIII. Ossory, mortified by his removal from 
 the government, directed his spleen against the 
 means and measures of his successor, who, indeed, 
 was not scrupulous in his mode of ruling ; but 
 often furnished just matter of complaint, with re- 
 spect to his treatment of the subjects, and particu- 
 larly in the non-performance of his duty towards 
 his cousin the Earl of Desmond, who had entered 
 into a treasonous correspondence with the French 
 king, and afterwards with the emperor. Ossory, 
 in consequence, lodged information against Kil- 
 dare, and he was a second time summoned to Lon- 
 don. The charges, at first, were not supposed to 
 be of a very heinous nature, and he was allowed 
 to leave his brother as deputy during his absence. 
 In the course, however, of the investigation, other 
 circumstances, of a more serious kind, were dis- 
 covered ; and when he was subsequently brought 
 before the privy council, the Cardinal assailed 
 him with much asperity ; but he replied with ad- 
 mirable shrewdness, and that bold familiar elo- 
 quence peculiar to his countrymen. Wolsey be- 
 gan by saying, " I know well, my lord, that I 
 am not the fittest man at this table to accuse you, 
 because your adherents assert, that I am an enemy 
 to all nobility, and particularly to your blood. 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 155 
 
 But the charges against you are so strong that we 
 cannot overlook them, and so clear that you cannot 
 deny them. I must, therefore, beg, notwithstand- 
 ing the stale slander against me, to be the mouth 
 and orator of these honourable gentlemen, and to 
 state the treasons of which you stand accused, 
 without respecting how you may like it. My lord, 
 you well remember, how the Earl of Desmond, your 
 kinsman, sent emissaries with letters to Francis, the 
 French king, offering the aid of Munster and Con- 
 naught for the conquest of Ireland ; and, receiving 
 but a cold answer, applied to Charles, the emperor. 
 How many letters, what precepts, what messages, 
 what threats, have been sent to you to apprehend 
 him, and it is not yet done. Why ? Because you 
 could not catch him ; nay, my lord, you would 
 not, forsooth, catch him. If he be justly suspect- 
 ed, why are you so partial ? If not, why are you so 
 fearful to have him tried ? But it will be sworn 
 to your face, that to avoid him you have winked 
 Hilfully, shunned his haunts, altered your course, 
 advised his friends, and stopped both ears and eyes 
 in the business ; and that, when you did make a 
 show of hunting him out, he was always before- 
 hand, and gone. Surely, my lord, this juggling 
 little became an honest man called to such honour, 
 or a nobleman with so great a trust. Had you 
 lost but a cow or a carrion of your own, two hun- 
 dred retainers would have started up at your whis- 
 tle, to rescue the prey from the farthest verge of 
 
156 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 Ulster. AH the Irish in Ireland must have made 
 way for you. But, in performing your duty in 
 this affair, merciful God ! how delicate, how dila- 
 tory, how dangerous, have you been ! One time 
 he is from home ; another time he is at home ; 
 sometimes fled, and sometimes in places where you 
 dare not venture. What ! the Earl of Kildare 
 not venture ! Nay, the King of Kildare ; for you 
 reign more than you govern the land. When you 
 are offended, the lowest subjects stand as rebels ; 
 when you are pleased, rebels are very dutiful sub- 
 jects. Hearts and hands, lives and lands, must all 
 be at your beck. Who fawns not to you, cannot 
 live within your scent, and your scent is so keen 
 that you track them out at pleasure."' 1 While the 
 Cardinal was speaking, the earl frequently changed 
 colour, and vainly endeavoured to master himself. 
 He affected to smile ; but his face was pale, his 
 lips quivered, and his eyes lightened with rage. 
 " My Lord Chancellor,' 1 he exclaimed, fiercely, 
 " my Lord Chancellor, I beseech you, pardon me. 
 I have but a short memory, and you know tfiat I 
 have to tell a long tale. If you proceed in this 
 way, I shall forget the half of my defence. I have 
 no school tricks, nor art of recollection. Unless 
 you hear me while I remember, your second charge 
 will hammer the first out of my head. 11 Several of 
 the counsellors were friends of the earl ; and, 
 knowing the acrimony of the Cardinal's taunts, 
 which they were themselves often obliged to en- 
 3 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 157 
 
 dure, interfered, and entreated that the charges 
 might be discussed one by one. Wolsey assenting 
 to this, Kildare resumed. ii It is with good rea- 
 son that your grace is the mouth of this council ; 
 but, my lord, the mouths that put this tale into 
 yours are very wide, and have gaped long for my 
 ruin. What my cousin Desmond has done I know 
 not ; beshrew him for holding out so long. If he 
 be taken in the traps that I have set for him, my 
 adversaries, by this heap of heinous charges, will 
 only have proved their own malice. But if he be 
 never taken, what is Kildare to blame more than 
 Ossory, who, notwithstanding his high promises, 
 and having now the king's power, you see, takes 
 his own time to bring him in ? Cannot the Earl of 
 Desmond stir, but I must advise ? Cannot he be 
 hid, but I must wink ? If he is befriended, am I, 
 therefore, a traitor ? It is truly a formidable ac- 
 cusation ! My first denial confounds my accusers. 
 Who made them so familiar with my sight ? 
 When was the earl in my view ? Who stood by 
 when I let him slip ? But, say they, I sent him 
 word. Who was the messenger ? Where are the 
 letters ? Confute my denial. Only see how loose- 
 ly this idle gear of theirs hangs together ! Des- 
 mond is not taken. Well ! Kildare is in fault. 
 Why ? Because he is. Who proves it ? No- 
 body. But it is thought, it is said. By whom ? 
 His enemies. Who informed them ? They will 
 swear it. Will they swear it, my lord ? Why, 
 
158 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 then they must know it. Either they have my 
 letters to show, or can produce my messengers, or 
 were present at a conference, or were concerned 
 with Desmond, or somebody betrayed the secret 
 to them, or they were themselves my vicegerents 
 in the business : which of these points will they 
 choose to maintain ? I know them too well, to 
 reckon myself convicted by their assertions, hear- 
 says, or any oaths which they may swear. My 
 letters could soon be read, were any such things 
 extant. My servants and friends are ready to be 
 sifted. Of my cousin Desmond they may lie 
 loudly ; for no man here can contradict. As to 
 myself, I never saw in them so much of sense, or of 
 integrity, that I would have staked on their silence 
 the life of a good hound, far less my own. I doubt 
 not, if your honours examine them apart, you will 
 find that they are but the tools of others, suborned 
 to say, swear, and state any thing but truth ; and 
 that their tongues are chained, as it were, to some 
 patron's trencher. I am grieved, my Lord Cardi- 
 nal, that your Grace, whom I take to be passing 
 wise and sharp, and who, of your own blessed dis- 
 position, wishes me so well, should be so far gone 
 in crediting these corrupt informers that abuse 
 your ignorance of Ireland. Little know you, my 
 Lord, how necessary it is, not only for the go- 
 vernor, but also for every nobleman in that coun- 
 try, to hamper his uncivil neighbours at discretion. 
 Were we to wait for processes of law, and had not 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 159 
 
 those hearts and hands, of which you speak, we 
 should soon lose both lives and lands. You hear 
 of our case as in a dream, and feel not the smart 
 of suffering that we endure. In England, there 
 is not a subject that dare extend his arm to fillip a 
 peer of the realm. In Ireland, unless the lord 
 have ability to his power, and power to protect 
 himself, with sufficient authority to take thieves 
 and varlets whenever they stir, he will find them 
 swarm so fast, that it will soon be too late to call 
 for justice. If you will have our service to effect, 
 you must not bind us always to judicial proceedings, 
 such as you are blessed with here in England. As 
 to my kingdom, my Lord Cardinal, I know not 
 what you mean. If your Grace thinks that a 
 kingdom consists in serving God, in obeying the 
 king, in governing the commonwealth with love, 
 in sheltering the subjects, in suppressing rebels, 
 in executing justice, and in bridling factions, I 
 would gladly be invested with so virtuous and 
 royal a state ; but if you call me king because you 
 are persuaded that I repine at the government of 
 my sovereign, wink at malefactors, and oppress 
 well-doers, I utterly disclaim the odious epithet, 
 surprised that your Grace should appropriate so 
 sacred a name to conduct so wicked. But however 
 this may be, I would you and I, my Lord, ex- 
 changed kingdoms for one month. I would, in 
 that time, undertake to gather more crumbs than 
 twice the revenues of my poor earldom. You are 
 
16*0 CARDINAL WOL8EY. 
 
 safe and warm, my Lord Cardinal, and should not 
 upbraid me. While you sleep in your bed of 
 down, I lie in a hovel ; while you are served under 
 a canopy, I serve under the cope of heaven ; while 
 you drink w r ine from golden cups, I must be con- 
 tent with water from a shell ; my charger is trained 
 for the field, your gennet is taught to amble ; while 
 you are be-lorded and be-graced, and crouched and 
 knelt to, I get little reverence, but when I cut the 
 rebels off by the knees." This spirited retaliation 
 touched the Cardinal's pride to the quick ; and it 
 was evident that he restrained his passion with the 
 greatest difficulty. The counsellors, gratified in 
 seeing him so treated, would have laughed, but 
 they had not the courage. As Kildare was nei- 
 ther to be trifled with nor brow-bcatcn, and the 
 evidence was not direct enough to stand the test 
 of so shrewd a mind, Wolsey rose from the table, 
 and the earl was detained until better proofs could 
 be produced. Surrey, who had succeeded to the 
 title of Norfolk by the death of his father, be- 
 came bail for Kildare to the whole extent of his 
 estate and life. The earl, being afterwards par- 
 doned, returned home. During the remainder of 
 the Cardinal's administration, Ossory continued 
 deputy, having superseded the brother of Kildare, 
 who had been left in the government when that 
 nobleman was summoned to England. He was a 
 man of mean qualifications; but, by the assistanee 
 of his wife, he ruled with vigour and utility. The 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 161 
 
 countess was a woman of surprising majesty of de- 
 meanour, august in her understanding, possessed 
 of masculine fortitude, and of wisdom fit for a so- 
 vereign. But the merits and virtues of her char- 
 acter were chilled and overshadowed by the vast pride 
 peculiar to her family. The O'Neals and O'Connors, 
 excited by the Fitzgeralds, disturbed the govern- 
 ment of her husband. The annals of Ireland, how- 
 ever, during the lieutenancy of Ossory, as well as in 
 the transactions already related, afford evidence 
 honourable to the administration of Wolsey. 
 
 IX. The Reformation, next to the preaching 
 of the apostles, is one of the most important oc- 
 currences in the history of human affairs. Prior 
 to the reign of Henry VIII., the doctrines of the 
 gospel had not very obviously affected the public 
 transactions of the world. It was only opinions 
 and principles, surreptitiously concealed under the 
 Christian name, that really guided the policy of 
 rulers and the conduct of men. The ritual of the 
 church differed but little from that of the pan- 
 theon. The distinguishing characteristics of saints 
 and demi-gods indicated, indeed, that some change 
 had taken place in the notions of mankind ; for, 
 before the promulgation of Christianity, the objects 
 of admiration were military achievements, and the 
 actions which entitled to posthumous reverence 
 evinced only superior talents for spreading desola- 
 tion and crimes. But, at the epoch of the Refor- 
 mation, the same kind of applause was bestowed 
 
16£ CARDINAL WOXSEY. 
 
 on other qualities ; and the men, who manifested 
 in their lives the greatest contempt for the plea- 
 sures of sense, were deemed the mirrors of human 
 conduct. The change that had taken place in the 
 sentiments of the # world, elevated the priest above 
 the soldier ; but the attributes of the priest were 
 not those of the Christian, and a revolution was 
 necessary to prove in what the difference consisted. 
 The Reformation effected this. The epoch, how- 
 ever, has still to arrive when Christianity shall 
 command its proper influence ; although the priest, 
 with respect to the Christian, holds now, perhaps, 
 the same relative state that the hero did to the 
 saint in the days of Cardinal Wolsey. The his- 
 tory of the church, — from the age of Charlemagne 
 to that of Napoleon, — from the full establishment 
 of the papal supremacy to its degradation, — affords 
 a various and impressive theme. It demonstrates 
 the insignificany of military talents on the destiny 
 of mankind, and mortifies the pride of statesmen, 
 by showing that their influence is small and second- 
 ary, and that they are themselves but the implicit 
 agents of deep and general predilections previously 
 nourished among the public. 
 
 X. After the death of Charlemagne, the king- 
 dom of France fell into great disorder. The ba- 
 rons rose in continual hostility against one another, 
 and that reprobate barbarity, in which the vices of 
 civilization are joined with the atrocities of the sa- 
 vage state, menaced the inhabitants. The priest- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 163 
 
 hood attempted to restrain this ruinous anarchy ; 
 and, by enjoining fasts, and threatening excom- 
 munications, vainly attempted to oppose the inde- 
 fatigable spirit of aggression by which it was pro- 
 pagated and maintained. Entreaty and exhorta- 
 tion having failed, recourse was had to stratagem. 
 In the year 1041, Durand, a carpenter in the city 
 of Puy, in Avergne, had rendered himself remark- 
 able, and a fit instrument for the purposes of the 
 clergy, by the warmth of his religious enthusiasm, 
 and the simplicity of his heart. One day, while 
 alone in the fields, a person, who called himself the 
 Redeemer, delivered to him a letter sealed with a 
 representation of the sacred mother seated in a 
 chair, and holding the infant upon her knee, — a 
 device not uncommon for the seals of monasteries. 
 The letter was written from Jesus Christ, and ad- 
 dressed to the people, entreating them, for his 
 sake, to suspend their warfare. Durand conceived 
 that he had seen a vision, and he fancied himself 
 commissioned, by Divine authority, to be the ad- 
 vocate of peace on earth, and of good-will to man. 
 The news of the apparition and of the holy letter 
 spread far and wide ; and the festival of the As- 
 cension being at hand, the bishop requested Du- 
 rand to come on that day, and to publish his mis- 
 sion in the cathedral. A vast multitude, attracted 
 by these circumstances, filled the church. Among 
 the spectators were two noblemen of the neigh- 
 bourhood, between whom a deadly feud had long 
 
164 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 been cherished, and which had proved calamitous 
 to all within the scope of their conflicts. Durand 
 was placed on a high platform in the middle of the 
 congregation. Animated by the notion of the su- 
 blimity of his trust, he delivered his tale and mes- 
 sage with such sincere and fervent eloquence, that 
 the whole audience presently began to weep and sigh, 
 and to praise the love and compassion of Jesus. The 
 hostile noblemen, subdued by benevolent sympathy, 
 embraced each other in token of obedience to the 
 Redeemer's request, and swore on the Evangelists 
 to live in concord and friendship. The attendants 
 followed the example of their masters. All among 
 the crowd, who had been at variance with each 
 other, renounced their animosities. Badges of tin, 
 impressed with the figures on the sealing of the 
 letter, were distributed, and whoever piously as- 
 sumed them, became immediately converted from 
 malicious propensities, and, in the presence of those 
 who had done them the greatest wrong, forgot their 
 revenge, and were filled with charity and love. The 
 sympathy of this benevolent superstition spread ra- 
 pidly over the whole country ; and the effects were 
 so singular, so happy, and apparently so miracu- 
 lous, that the tranquillity which ensued was called 
 the truce of God. 
 
 XI. The success which attended this strata- 
 gem suggested the scheme by which the preaching 
 of Peter the hermit, soon after, was rendered still 
 more influential. The hermit, in his appearance* 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 165 
 
 resembled the carpenter ; his person was equally 
 mean and despicable, and his face and look ordi- 
 narily wore the soft and sleepy aspect of idiocy ; 
 but he possessed a glowing mind, an eloquent 
 tongue, and, when animated by the topics of his 
 subject, his countenance beamed with astonishing 
 energy, his eyes flashed with the rapture of inspi- 
 ration, and none could withstand his call to arise 
 and rescue the holy sepulchre. The consistory, 
 perceiving the enthusiasm which his active zeal 
 had kindled throughout Christendom, contrived 
 the means of giving it the semblance of miraculous 
 effect. A council was summoned to meet at Cler- 
 mont, where many princes and nobles, prepared by 
 art, and influenced by the general passion, met the 
 pope, who exhorted them to assume the cross, and 
 to exert their powers and faculties for the deliver- 
 ance of the Holy Land. The priests, tutored for 
 the occasion, and the seculars, predisposed by the 
 preaching of the hermit, at the conclusion of the 
 pope's oration, exclaimed, that God willed all to 
 undertake the enterprise ; and therefore they re- 
 solved to obey. On the same night their resolu- 
 tion was known, it is said, throughout Christen- 
 dom, — a circumstance then believed to have been 
 effected by supernatural agency, but easy of expla- 
 nation, when the regular correspondence among 
 all the papal officers, and the predetermined result 
 of the council, are considered. 
 
 XII. That holy war lasted nearly two hundred 
 
166 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 years ; in the course of which a great intercourse 
 arose between the remote parts of Christendom, 
 and those places which still retained relics of the 
 grandeur of Rome, and of the learning of Greece. 
 The chiefs and vassals of the West, in their march 
 to Palestine, were surprised by the view of arts and 
 manners, of which they had never heard. At their 
 return, they related their adventures and the 
 wonders they had seen. Knowledge was, in con- 
 sequence, disseminated. Sometimes they brought 
 with them specimens of the productions of those 
 strange and splendid regions ; and the exhibition 
 of rarities excited a general desire to possess them. 
 The spirit of commerce was awakened ; and the 
 intercourse, which had been opened by the cru- 
 sades, was, after the war, continued in order to 
 gratify the demands of the opulent. The revival 
 of literature in Italy sprung from this commerce, 
 and books became an important branch of trade. 
 As the documents of antiquity were multiplied, the 
 oral traditions of the clergy fell in estimation, and 
 a more precise and authentic style of learning was 
 established. This affected the respect previously 
 paid to the assertions of the priests. Many things, 
 devoutly received on ecclesiastical authority, were 
 found very differently stated in the works from 
 which it was alleged that they had been derived ; 
 and forms and doctrines, considered original in 
 Christianity, were discovered to have been of later 
 growth— the corrupt engraftings of ancient error. 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 167 
 
 This moral change was quickened to political ef- 
 fects by the pontificates of Alexander VI., Julius 
 II., and Leo X. ; and the progress of the Lutheran 
 heresies showed that the foundations of the papal 
 structure were, in the days of Wolsey, deeply un- 
 dermined. 
 
 XIII. The church was a government of opinion ; 
 and the Cardinal saw that the clergy would be 
 compelled to resign their influence over the affairs 
 of mankind, unless they could recover that rela- 
 tive superiority of knowledge, by which, in ruder 
 times, they had acquired the ascendency. What 
 stood in his mind as the church of Christ, was the 
 pre-eminency of the priesthood. In the conse- 
 quences of the Lutheran opinions, he did not affect 
 to value the precepts, but only the damage and 
 detriment which might ensue to the papal power 
 and dignity, were the priests to declare themselves 
 independent of each other, and consequently dis- 
 solve that mighty confederacy which had so long 
 ruled and enjoyed the world. His system of eccle- 
 siastical reformation is, therefore, less remarkable 
 for its effects on the progress of knowledge, than 
 on account of its objects. The aim of his designs 
 was to obtain for the priesthood, generally, the 
 same kind of influence which the institutes of 
 Loyola afterwards so wonderfully ministered to 
 procure for the famous society of the Jesuits. It 
 was calculated to render them entitled to possess 
 superiority, although directed to preserve their ex- 
 
168 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 elusive privileges. The tendency of human affairs 
 is, perhaps, towards the formation of a system, in 
 which power shall be possessed by right of intel- 
 lectual attainment ; at least, since the period of the 
 Reformation, there seems to have been a gradual 
 converging of the elements of such a system. The 
 influence of the literary character has been evi- 
 dently augmented ;. and the unity of sentiment that 
 is publicly propagated by the press, in some de- 
 gree approximates to the effect of the systematic 
 correspondence of the papal clergy. The first ge- 
 neral result of the Reformation was the transfer of 
 the political power possessed by churchmen into 
 the hands of the hereditary class. The necessary 
 consequence of this has been, that, as much of the 
 detail of ruling depends upon an accurate know 
 ledge of law and the principles of equity, the he- 
 reditary class should either be distinguished by su- 
 perior legal information, or that it should employ, 
 as agents and ministers, persons so distinguished. 
 And, accordingly, it will not be disputed, that, in 
 all protestant nations, the lawyers have superseded 
 the clergy in the administration of political justice 
 and the rules of life, in which the substance of 
 all human power really consists. 
 
 XIV. Erasmus, with his accustomed sycophancy 
 towards the prosperous great, describes the Cardi- 
 nal's table, surrounded by the wise and learned of 
 the age, as furnished with stars which threw a glo- 
 rious brightness ; but it does not appear to have 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 169 
 
 been frequented by any person, with the exception, 
 perhaps, of Sir Thomas More, whose works con- 
 tinue to interest posterity. The object of Wolsey 
 was to produce a general effect ; and the history of 
 his patronage of literature relates, in consequence, 
 more to institutions than to men of genius. In this 
 respect, as in his political measures, he differs ad- 
 vantageously from Leo X., but he is not so fortu- 
 nate in his reputation. His name is not connected 
 with that of poets, historians, and artists ; but 
 how many men, the pride of England and the or- 
 naments of the species, may trace the origin of 
 their best attainments to the institutions and efforts 
 of Wolsey ! The breadth and solidity of his de- 
 signs and undertakings for promoting knowledge, 
 entitle him to be placed very high, if not pre-emi- 
 nent, among the patrons of learning. He was, in 
 the emphatic sense of the term, a Statesman in this ; 
 and his munficence to literature was not bestowed on 
 individuals, but distributed with a general liberality 
 for the perpetual benefit of the realm. The mind 
 is disposed to contemplate this part of his policy 
 with unmingled satisfaction ; and, notwithstanding 
 the overweening ostentation of his household and 
 deportment, the aim with which he reformed the 
 laws of the universities, founded colleges, and pro- 
 cured eminent professors to alter the stagnant state 
 of learning, entitle him to be considered as ani- 
 mated by that noble ambition which has immor- 
 tality for its motive, the improvement of mankind 
 
170 CARDINAL W'OLSEY. 
 
 for its means, and the gratitude of posterity for its 
 reward. 
 
 XV. The fine arts are the offspring of literature, 
 which, in civilized nations, always receives some 
 new tincture and modification from every general 
 calamity. The interest excited by public misfor- 
 tunes gives rise to the details of historians, and their 
 narratives furnish incidents and materials for the 
 descriptions of the poets, from whom the imitative 
 arts derive their subjects. In the reign of Henry 
 VIII., particularly during the administration of 
 Wolsey, scarcely a single work of fancy was pub- 
 lished ; but the chronological compilations of that 
 period are still the great quarries of English his- 
 tory. It was not before the age of Elizabeth that 
 the records of the civil wars produced their full 
 moral effect ; and the taste, induced by the won- 
 derful poets and authors of her time, contributed 
 to excite that extraordinary pruriency for the arts, 
 which rendered the early part of the reign of 
 Charles I. so illustrious. The second age of Eng- 
 lish literature followed in a similar manner the agi- 
 tated period of the Revolution ; but the character- 
 istic of the works of genius produced in the reign 
 of queen Anne showed, that the public mind was 
 imbued by another class of writers than the histo- 
 rians of the country. In the time of Charles II. 
 many causes combined to make the nation desirous 
 of forgetting the transactions of the Commonwealth. 
 The study of the classics of antiquity had been 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 171 
 
 preferred to that of the historians of the preceding 
 civil wars ; and, in consequence, the style and sen- 
 timents of the Augustan age became imitated in 
 the reign of Anne. The necessary effect of this 
 was visible in the arts as well as in literature. The 
 intricate and exuberant architecture of the ancient 
 cathedrals, corresponding to the capricious and 
 luxuriant effusions of the aboriginal authors, was 
 superseded by an imitation of the Roman models ; 
 the style of which corresponded with the simplicity 
 of the pruned productions of the press : a general * 
 excess of polish almost obliterated originality. >c. " 
 XVI. The proficiency which nations make in 
 the ornamental arts is always proportioned to the 
 prosperity of their domestic circumstances. Italy, 
 prior to the invasion by Charles VIII. of France, 
 enjoyed a long period of felicity and repose, which 
 the gravest historians have described with the 
 warmth of poetical enthusiasm. The hills, culti- 
 vated to the summits, emulated the fertility of the 
 valleys. The cities vied with antiquity in the ele- 
 gance of their edifices. The countless ministers of 
 superstitious sovereignty, bearing tribute to Rome, 
 enhanced the flow of general wealth by the gene- 
 rosity of their expenditure ; and commerce poured 
 her copious horn, filled with the riches of all na- 
 tions, into the lap of Florence, of Genoa, and of 
 Venice. Like the illustrious arrangement of an- 
 cient Greece before the conquests of Alexander, 
 the country was divided into many small states. 
 
172 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 The division exposed the whole to the hazard of 
 subjugation from without; but the equilibrium 
 within afforded to each a happy portion of domes- 
 tic security. The inhabitants of all degrees lived 
 in comparative fellowship : artists were the com- 
 panions of nobles, for the nobles were merchants, 
 and fostered the arts to increase the profits of 
 trade. The general opulence bestowed the means 
 of granting leisure to the studious to design, and 
 to the mechanical to execute ; while genius, by 
 the activity of competition, was incited to retouch 
 and improve its creations. — The state of England 
 at that time was far otherwise. The civil wars 
 were raging in all their fury. The multitudes 
 withdrawn from labour to arms, from producing 
 to destroying, increased the toil to the remainder, 
 and the public wealth was dilapidated by the re- 
 ciprocal havoc of the rival families. During the 
 administration of Wolsey, a considerable degree of 
 prosperity was recovered ; but the only funds 
 which could be allotted to promote knowledge 
 were monopolized by the church. All the super- 
 fluity of industry, which might have procured sus- 
 tenance for genius, was appropriated to support 
 the indolence of the clergy. It was therefore only 
 by diminishing the number of the monks, and by in- 
 ducing the other ecclesiastics to become more active, 
 that the great intellectual qualities of the English 
 nation could be developed. "While Leo X. 
 was enjoying the fruits of the autumn of Italian 
 
CARDINAL trOLSEY. 173 
 
 genius, Wolsey was labouring where the spring 
 had scarcely disclosed a single blossom ; but a rich 
 and various harvest has since amply justified the 
 liberality of the preparation, and his confidence in 
 the soil. 
 
 XVII. Warton, in speaking of the state of 
 poetry in the reign of Henry VIII., observes, that 
 the marriage of a princess of England with a king 
 of Scotland must have contributed to improve the 
 literature and arts of the Scottish nation. But the 
 observation is unphilosophical, and contrary to 
 historical fact. If diplomatic correspondence and 
 the occasional visits of courtiers have any effect on 
 the progress of nations, the English were more 
 likely to have been indebted to the Scots ; for the 
 court of Edinburgh possessed at that time several 
 professors of elegant literature, that rivalled in 
 taste and propriety of phraseology even the Italian 
 poets, while that of London was only a dormitory 
 of cumbrous divines. But the literature of nations 
 is rarely improved by the alliances of princes, and 
 seldom promoted by the munificence of courtiers. 
 Which of the great authors of England was in- 
 debted for opulence to the patronage of the sove- 
 reigns ? With the exception of the vain and pre- 
 sumptuous Louis XIV., there is not an instance 
 on record of a monarch who regarded the foster- 
 ing of knowledge as a part of his regal duty ; and 
 for many years a mere literary character at the 
 levees of a British king has been almost as rare as 
 
 \ 
 
174 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the phoenix of the poets among the birds of Egypt ; 
 and yet the literature of the nation has certainly 
 not declined. It was the personal predilections of 
 James IV. of Scotland which drew around him the 
 poets of his country ; and the ecclesiastical bent of 
 Henry VIII. operated in a similar manner to fill 
 the court of England with theologians. Hence 
 the origin of the peculiarities of English and Scot- 
 tish literature in the time of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 XVIII. The college of physicians, which was 
 founded in the year 1518, was the first national 
 institution which the Cardinal patronised for the 
 improvement of knowledge. Prior to that event 
 the state of the medical science was very low in 
 England. It was only remarkable for ingenious 
 hypotheses, unsupported by the evidence of facts, 
 and for a credulous faith on astrological influence, 
 equally visionary. The kingdom, particularly Lon- 
 don, had been often visited by a most destructive 
 pestilence, the Sweating Sickness, — a disease which 
 was deemed peculiar to the English climate, but 
 which has since been happily eradicated. The in- 
 fected died within three hours after the first symp- 
 toms ; and no cure could be found. The admi- 
 nistration of justice was suspended during its con- 
 tinuance, and the court removed from place to 
 place with precipitation and fear. Half the peo- 
 ple in some parts of the country were swept away, 
 and the principal trade practised was in coffins and 
 shrouds; but even that, in the progress of the 
 
CARDINAL YTOLSEY. 175 
 
 plague, was generally abandoned. At London, 
 vast sepulchral pits were prepared every morning, 
 into which the victims were thrown promiscuously. 
 The only sounds in the city during the day were 
 the doleful monotony of unceasing knells, and the 
 lamentations of the , tainted, deserted by their 
 friends, crying from the windows to the passengers 
 to pray for them. The door of almost every house 
 was marked with a red cross, the sign that the de- 
 stroying angel had been there ; and all night, 
 as the loaded wheels of the death-waggons rolled 
 heavily along, a continual voice cried, — " Bring 
 out your dead."— To "discover a remedy, or some 
 mode of averting the recurrence of this terrible ca- 
 lamity, the king, at the suggestion of Dr Linacre, 
 was induced to establish the college of physicians : 
 among others mentioned in the charter as the ad- 
 visers of this beneficial institution, Wolsey is par- 
 ticularly named. 
 
 XIX. The Cardinal was several years minister 
 before he came forward conspicuously as the patron 
 of national instruction. He had been previously 
 the Maecenas of individuals ; but the history of his 
 munificence to literature relates chiefly to public 
 institutions. The character of his mind fitted him 
 to act happily only with wide and prospective consid- 
 erations. The warmth of his temper, and the pride 
 of conscious greatness, however high his aims, and 
 noble his motives, rendered him harsh in familiar 
 intercourse, and unqualified to acquire the affection 
 
176 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 of those men of endowment and knowledge whom 
 ostentation invited to his house, and affluence en- 
 tertained. The court happened to be at Abington 
 in the year 1523, and a deputation of the heads of 
 the colleges being sent from Oxford to pay the 
 compliments of the university, the queen was after- 
 wards induced to visit that city, accompanied by 
 Wolsey. They were received with the customary 
 ceremonies ; and the Cardinal, in reply to the ora- 
 tion which was addressed to him, declared that he 
 had the interests of his parental university much 
 at heart, and that he was desirous of substantially 
 evincing his filial attachment. He accordingly 
 proposed to found certain public lectures, and of- 
 fered to undertake the revisal of the statutes, 
 which were at variance in tenor with one another, 
 and adverse in spirit to the prosperity of learning. 
 These proposals were gladly received, and letters 
 on the subject were without delay sent to the chan- 
 cellor, Archbishop Warham. This jealous and 
 captious old man was sensibly affected by every 
 thing that tended to the aggrandisement of Wol- 
 sey ; and therefore, although he could not possibly 
 object to the institution of the lectures, he strenu- 
 ously opposed the plan of committing to him the 
 revision of the statutes. In the end, however, he 
 was constrained to yield his personal antipathy for 
 the public advantage ; and the senate, in full con- 
 vocation, decreed that the laws should he placed 
 in the Cardinal's hands to be corrected, reformed, 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 177 
 
 changed or expunged, as he in his discretion should 
 think fit. Cambridge soon after adopted the same 
 measure, and even exceeded Oxford in adulation* 
 The address voted on the occasion declared that the 
 statutes were submitted to be modelled according 
 to his judgment, as by a true and settled standard ; 
 for he was considered as a man sent by a special 
 order of Divine Providence for the benefit of man- 
 kind* In order to evince still more the unlimited 
 extent of this confidence, the senate conferred on 
 him the power for life of legislating for the univer- 
 sity ; and proposed to honour his memory with 
 perpetual yearly commemorations. These acts of 
 homage, in themselves remarkable proofs of the 
 ready subserviency of public bodies to the existing 
 powers, are worthy of observation, as they form 
 an important sera in the history of English litera- 
 ture. From the date of the revisal of the statutes 
 by Cardinal Wolsey, the progress of popular learn- 
 ing, and the improvement of the language, were 
 rapid and extraordinary in the universities ; in 
 which, prior to that epoch, there Was scarcely a 
 member distinguished by any proficiency in prac- 
 tical knowledge. They were inhabited only by 
 men who had dozed into corpulency over the pon- 
 derous folios of scholastic divinity ; and it was pro- 
 bably less on account of any advantage that was 
 expected to arise to the public from improving her 
 statutes that Cambridge addressed the Cardinal 
 with such idolatrous adulation, and invested him 
 
 M 
 
178 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 with such supreme power, than with the view of 
 inducing him to prefer her for the seat of a college, 
 which, it was then rumoured, he intended to build 
 on a plan of the greatest magnificence. It is, how- 
 ever, but justice to add, that Cambridge very early 
 became a candidate for his patronage ; for when 
 he was only Bishop of Lincoln, she offered him her 
 chancellorship, which he then declined. 
 
 XX. When he had instituted at Oxford the lec- 
 tures of which he had given notice during his visit 
 with the queen, he proceeded with the design of 
 Christ-church college. The foundations were laid 
 soon after the news arrived in London of the battle 
 of Favia. This noble edifice stands on the site of 
 a priory, the brotherhood of which had for a long 
 time given such scandal by their profligacy, that 
 the design of dispersing them, and of converting 
 their revenues and buildings to the uses of learning, 
 had been entertained several years before. The 
 preamble of the patent by which the king assigned 
 to the Cardinal the property of the monasteries 
 dissolved by virtue of his legatine commission, and 
 destined for the support of his lectures and college, 
 highly commends his administration of the national 
 affairs; and declares, that, in consideration of his 
 having so ably sustained the weight of the govern- 
 ment for several years, the grant was made as a 
 testimony to posterity of the sense entertained of 
 his services. By a draft of the statutes written by 
 Wolsey himself, it appears that the permanent 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 179 
 
 members of the college were intended to consist of 
 a dean, a subdean, sixty canons of the first rank, 
 and forty of the second, thirteen chaplains, twelve 
 clerks, and sixteen choristers, with professors of 
 rhetoric, medicine, philosophy, mathematics, Greek, 
 theology, and law, besides four censors of manners 
 and examiners of the proficiency of the students, 
 three treasurers, four stewards, and twenty inferior 
 servants. A revenue was set apart for the enter- 
 tainment of strangers, the relief of the poor, and 
 the maintenance of horses for college business. 
 The architectural design of the building was of 
 corresponding magnitude ; and had it been com- 
 pleted according to the plan of the founder, few 
 royal palaces would have surpassed it in splendour 
 and extent. The project by which he proposed to 
 furnish the library was worthy of the general de- 
 sign. He took measures to obtain copies of all the 
 manuscripts in the Vatican, in addition to the or- 
 dinary means of procuring books. 
 
 XXI. Soon after his return from the great em- 
 bassy to France, he laid the foundations of a pub- 
 lic school at Ipswich, his native town. It was in- 
 tended to be a preparatory seminary for the col- 
 lege, similar to the school at Winchester founded 
 by William of Wickham, and to that at Eton by 
 Henry VI. ; both of which were instituted with 
 the same relative view to their respective colleges 
 in Oxford and Cambridge. The funds appropriat- 
 ed for the support of this institution were chiefly 
 
180 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 drawn from the revenues of dissolved monasteries. 
 The town had, before that time, a free grammar 
 school endowed with certain property vested in the 
 hands of the magistrates, who, at the Cardinal's 
 request, judiciously assigned it to the new school, 
 the more extensive purposes of which superseded 
 the utility of continuing the other. He ordered a 
 grammar to be prepared for the use of the students, 
 and wrote a prefatory address, in which he speaks 
 of the institution as designed to promote the educa- 
 tion of British youth, — an expression that seems to 
 indicate something like an expectation of an ulti- 
 mate union of the crowns of the island. This is, 
 perhaps, the only literary production of Wolsey 
 entitled to be considered as a publication. His ac- 
 quirements as a scholar were indeed rather proofs 
 of the generality and vigour of his talents, than 
 evidence of the quality of his intellectual powers as 
 compared with those of others. The length and ful- 
 ness of his public despatches, and the variety of 
 circumstances which he comprehends within the 
 scope of his topics, entitle them to be regarded, in 
 many instances, as dissertations on the events and 
 proceedings of the time. His style, at once power- 
 ful, circumstantial, and diffuse, conveys so ample 
 an exposition of his meaning, that he never fails to 
 fill the mind of the reader with a complete concep- 
 tion of what he aims to produce. His sentences 
 are sometimes involved, and often indefinite ; but 
 he pours forth such an amazing breadth of ox- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 181 
 
 planation, that the general effect is irresistible. In 
 this respect, the character of his eloquence may be 
 compared to a large stream flowing through a 
 marshy country ; though the main current be clear, 
 impetuous, and strong, the bounds and banks are 
 shoaly, sedgy, unequal, irregular, and undefined. 
 
 XXII. Wolsey, as lord chancellor, had often 
 as much occasion to observe the ignorance of the 
 lawyers, as in his episcopal capacity that of the 
 clergy ; and he has been described as often inter- 
 rupting the pleadings of the barristers, and bitter- 
 ly animadverting on their want of knowledge. To 
 remedy an evil which troubled the public jurispru- 
 dence at the fountain-head, and made its necessary 
 ramifications only so many distributors of disorder 
 and vexation, he projected an institution, to be 
 founded in London, in which the study of law 
 should be efficiently cultivated. The scheme was 
 consonant to the general liberality of his views, and 
 perhaps is still requisite. The architectural model 
 for the building was considered a masterpiece, and 
 remained, long after his death, as a curiosity in the 
 palace at Greenwich. 
 
 XXIII. In the prosecution of these munificent 
 purposes, the Cardinal was obliged to contend with 
 the opposition and to endure the obloquy of every 
 rank and class of the nation. The courtiers, whom 
 his lordliness mortified into enemies, lost no oppor- 
 tunity of repeating to the king every omission, 
 however trivial, in the multitude of the affairs 
 
182 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 which he undertook to direct ; and insinuated, that 
 he excelled the other ministers only in the boldness 
 of his pretensions. But on such occasions Henry 
 always vindicated the sincerity of his own character, 
 and repressed with becoming manliness the intru- 
 sions of envy. The censorial court, which Wolsey 
 had instituted by virtue of his commission as le- 
 gate, was an intolerable and continual offence to the 
 priesthood. Allen, his chaplain, whom he had ap- 
 pointed the judge, and who was afterwards Bishop 
 of Dublin, exercised his functions with harshness, 
 and sometimes with partiality. His conduct gave 
 warrantry to discontents which had originated in 
 the jurisdictions of the office ; and old Warham, 
 who was greedy of accusations against the Cardi- 
 nal, availing himself of some particular instance of 
 impropriety on the part of Allen, complained to 
 the king of the legatine court. Henry observed 
 to him, that " no man is so blind as in his own 
 house ; but for you, father, I should not have 
 heard of this matter ; I pray you therefore go to 
 Wolsey, and tell him, if there be any thing amiss 
 in these proceedings to amend it." The malicious 
 love of justice, which dictated this complaint, was 
 probably for that time frustrated ; but an occasion 
 soon after occurred of making a special charge 
 against the conduct of the Cardinal himself. He 
 advanced a lady, who had sullied her youth by 
 carnal indiscretion, to be abbess of the nunnery of 
 Winton. Henry was speedily informed of the ap- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 183 
 
 pointment, and immediately expostulated with Wol- 
 sey, mentioning at the same time that the gifts, 
 which were bestowed by the monasteries to pro- 
 mote the building of his colleges, were suspected of 
 being corruptly given, in order to save themselves 
 from the visits of the legatine officers ; remarking, 
 that this was the more probably true, as they had 
 never shown any such generosity to the necessities 
 of their sovereign ; and with the frank earnestness 
 of friendship, he entreated him to rectify such 
 abuses. Fortunately for the Cardinal, the appoint- 
 ment of the prioress was subject to the approba- 
 tion of the king ; and he submitted himself so 
 humbly, in consequence of the severity of the re- 
 buke, that Henry immediately and kindly re-as- 
 sured him of his entire confidence ; at the same 
 time he still seemed to doubt the propriety of ap- 
 propriating the funds of the monasteries to the 
 purposes of learning ; and he informed him that 
 it was generally murmured throughout the nation, 
 that the colleges but furnished a cloak to cover the 
 misdemeanours of avarice. The conduct of Henry 
 on this occasion merits applause, both as a man 
 and as a monarch. He showed himself jealous of 
 his own honour and the rights of public property, 
 but he had confidence in the integrity and high 
 views of his minister. While he therefore inform- 
 ed Wolsey of the complaints against him, he trusted 
 that his discretion would obviate them for the fu- 
 ture. The event was of importance to the Cardinal. 
 
184 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 It opened his eyes to the depth and extent of his 
 danger, and showed him that he had no other de- 
 pendence than the precarious favour of a prince. 
 He saw that the envy of his greatness, which had 
 been fomented into malice by the success of his 
 measures, was deadly, and he endeavoured to les- 
 sen its virulence by reducing the ostentation that 
 served to augment it. He resigned to the king the 
 palace of Hampton ; and, in his intercourse with 
 the other members of the council, lowered the su- 
 periority with which he had so long dictated the 
 measures of the government. But this alteration 
 was calculated rather to encourage the hopes of his 
 enemies, than to lessen the avidity with whioh they 
 desired his destruction. The king, it is true, after 
 the affair of the prioress of Winton, continued to 
 evince the same unlimited friendship as formerly, 
 but the irritation of that occasion unconsciously 
 predisposed him for similar impressions. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 The grandeur of Wolsey continued to increase 
 until he became possessed of greater power than, 
 perhaps, any subject before his time had ever en- 
 joyed, He was virtually the head of the church 
 in England ; prime political minister ; the chief 
 judge of law and equity ; legislator of the two 
 universities ; arbiter of disputes between the king 
 and foreign princes ; and his income was supposed 
 to be equal to the amount of the royal revenues. 
 But the full and perfect round of reflected splen- 
 dour was destined to wane, and to suffer at last a 
 total extinction. In all the vicissitudes of his 
 master's humours he had still preserved the first 
 place in his esteem. The clamours of the clergy 
 failed to disturb this unlimited confidence. The 
 impartial justice of his conduct as a judge, though 
 offensive to the pretensions of the nobility, afford- 
 ed no plausible ground upon which his integrity 
 could be impeached. His views of foreign policy 
 reaching beyond the age in which he lived, and 
 comprehending the interests of posterity, wero 
 
186 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 never popular ; far less the financial measures 
 which they led him to adopt ; but the success of 
 his plans for advancing the political importance of 
 the nation, gratified the ambition of Henry ; and, 
 in those days, public opinion was a trifle in com- 
 parison with royal favour. At length, however, 
 the same lofty arrogance of principle which show- 
 ed itself so proud and stubborn to the clergy, the 
 nobility, and the people, was to be found at vari- 
 ance with the wishes of the sovereign himself ; and 
 it was Wolsey's fate to furnish one of the most 
 striking instances of the instability of fortune, and 
 the ingratitude of despotic power, which the whole 
 compass of history affords 
 
 II. Katherine, Henry's queen, had been previ- 
 ously married to his brother Arthur, the prince of 
 Wales. Arthur was then only in his sixteenth 
 year, but he was a vigorous and healthful youth, 
 and he and Katherine lived more than four months 
 together as man and wife. Their bed on the 
 wedding-night, according to a custom of that age, 
 was solemnly blest, — a ceremony which certainly 
 implied confidence in the maturity of the parties. 
 A statement of presumptive evidence in favour of 
 the consummation of the marriage was transmitted 
 by the Spanish ambassador to his sovereign ; and 
 hints to the same effect had been given by the 
 prince himself on the morning after the nuptials. 
 In consequence of this, when Arthur died, Henry 
 was not created Prince of Wales, until it waa 
 
CARDINAL frOLSEY. 187 
 
 ascertained, by time, that the princess was not with 
 child. 
 
 III. The political motives which led to the 
 union of Arthur and Katherine did not terminate 
 with the life of the prince ; but, although they 
 had ceased to be of primary influence, still the 
 large dowry of the princess, which Henry VII. 
 might have been obliged to refund, was of itself 
 sufficient to induce that avaricious tyrant to devise 
 the plan of marrying her to her husband's brother, 
 then in his boyhood. Against this incestuous 
 expedient Archbishop Warham strongly remon- 
 strated ; but a bull was, notwithstanding, obtained 
 from Julius II. to authorise and sanctify its ac- 
 complishment. In this bull, it was plainly stated, 
 that the princess had been lawfully married to 
 Prince Arthur, and the marriage probably con- 
 summated ; but that the prince having died with- 
 out issue, therefore, in order to preserve amity 
 between the crowns of Spain and England, and 
 peace among catholic kings, the pope dispensed 
 with the impediments of affinity between Henry 
 and his brother's widow, and gave them leave to 
 marry, or even, if already united, confirmed their 
 marriage. Many of the cardinals disapproved of 
 this extraordinary concession ; but, as it was thought 
 to promote the interests of the papacy, their oppo- 
 sition was ineffectual, and soon hushed. It was ima- 
 gined that the future kings of England, descend- 
 ants of this marriage, would be induced to main- 
 
188 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tain that authority from which their right to the 
 crown was derived. But the design, in the sequel, 
 proved fatal to the fraudulent system which it was 
 expected so essentially to support. 
 
 IV. Soon after the union of Henry and Katherine, 
 the old king began to doubt the rectitude of what 
 he had done, and his conscience grew 60 irksome 
 and unquiet, that when the prince attained the age 
 of fourteen, at which period the law allows the 
 heirs of the English throne to exercise the rights 
 of judgment, he commanded him to protest that, 
 being under age, he had been married to the Prin- 
 cess Katherine, but now he did not confirm that 
 marriage ; on the contrary, that he intended to 
 make it void. This protestation was made in pre- 
 sence of many of the nobility and clergy. Not 
 satisfied with merely obtaining the avowal of an 
 intention, the king, as he lay on his death-bed, 
 earnestly exhorted the prince to break off the in- 
 cestuous connexion. An exhortation, in itself so 
 solemn and penitential, though it might be ne- 
 glected in the thoughtlessness of youth, was calcu- 
 lated to return upon the imagination with increased 
 effect, when recalled by occurrences that might be 
 construed into manifestations of the Divine dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 V. One of the first questions which, after the 
 death of Henry VII., came before the council, was 
 whether the marriage should be annulled or con- 
 Mimmated. The arguments for the consummation 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 189 
 
 prevailed ; and moral delicacy was sacrificed to po- 
 litical expediency. The king was again married 
 to his brother's widow, and their public coronation 
 followed. From that time, the legality of the con- 
 nexion remained undisputed, and several children, 
 of whom the Princess Mary alone survived, were 
 the issue. 
 
 VI. Katherine having fallen into ill health, Hen- 
 ry had for several years deserted her bed. Seeing 
 no likelihood of her giving a male heir to the 
 crown, he became restless in mind, and imagined 
 that the curse pronounced in Scripture against the 
 man who takes his brother's wife, had come upon 
 them, and that he was fated to die childless. The 
 marriage having been hitherto undisputed, he was 
 not led to think of dissolving it till the year 1527, 
 when, in the progress of the treaty of affinity ne- 
 gotiated with Francis, the French minister objected 
 to the legitimacy of the princess, on the ground 
 that the marriage, of which she was the fruit, had 
 been contracted in violation of a Divine precept 
 which no human authority could controvert. Some 
 time before, the council of Spain had made similar 
 observations, and, on the doubtfulness of the mat- 
 ter, endeavoured to justify the dissolution of the 
 contract of Charles and Mary. 
 
 VII. From all these circumstances, it is evident 
 that Henry's scruples arose from events which 
 happened before Wolsey's introduction at court, 
 and were strengthened by occurrences over which 
 
190 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 he had no control. The king first disclosed them 
 to his confessor, and, probably, soon after to the 
 Cardinal ; but there is no evidence to ascribe their 
 origin to the art of the one, or the machinations of 
 the other. Nor with greater justice can it be al- 
 leged, that the scruples were forged to disguise a 
 criminal passion for Ann Bullen, although it will 
 appear, in the course of the subsequent transac- 
 tions, that the influence of her charms in no small 
 degree added to their weight. The controversies 
 relative to the royal marriage lasted several years ; 
 and many circumstances in Henry's conduct dur- 
 ing that time served to show that he was affected 
 by other motives as well as by his partiality for 
 that lady. In the early stages of the business, he 
 seems to have been actuated by a real anxiety for 
 his religious welfare. Before bringing it into pub- 
 lic discussion, he had satisfied his own mind that 
 the marriage was contrary to the levitical laws. 
 The next question which presented itself was, 
 whether the pope possessed the power of dispens- 
 ing with a precept of Divine institution ? and it 
 might readily occur to him, that the observance of 
 any law can only be set aside by an authority 
 equal to that by which it was at first enacted. 
 The prerogative of the sovereign pontiff to alter 
 the laws of the church was admitted ; but the le- 
 vitical laws, being promulgated immediately from 
 Heaven, could not be set aside or suspended by 
 any human decision. 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 191 
 
 VIII. Henry, in this stage of his reflections, 
 communicated to Wolsey his determination to try 
 the question publicly, and requested to know what 
 he thought of it. The Cardinal was struck with 
 alarm ; and, instantly foreboding the consequences 
 of such a resolution, fell on his knees, and im- 
 plored the king to abandon a design so hostile to 
 the faith of which he was the declared champion 
 and defender ; especially while the whole structure 
 of the church was rent with schism, and shaken 
 from roof to foundation by the tempest of the Lu- 
 theran controversies. Nor could he omit to point 
 out the political evils of incurring the enmity of 
 the queen's relations, and the certainty that her 
 nephew the emperor would violently endeavour to 
 revenge the insult which the proceeding would be 
 to his family. But Henry was not to be persuaded 
 from his resolution ; he insisted upon knowing 
 Wolsey's opinion of the abstract question. The 
 Cardinal, in order to gain time, and possibly with 
 a hope that some accident might occur to alter the 
 king's mind, begged that, in a matter of such im- 
 portance, he might be allowed to confer previously 
 with persons better versed in the divine and civil 
 laws. A request so reasonable was readily grant- 
 ed ; and, accordingly, by virtue of his legatine 
 commission, he summoned the bishops, and the 
 learned of the universities and cathedrals, to meet 
 him for that purpose at Westminster. 
 
 IX. If the Cardinal was of opinion at first, that 
 
*92 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 the validity of the marriage ought not to be called 
 in question, the case was materially altered when 
 the king's doubts had become publicly known, and 
 were communicated to his subjects. It then be- 
 came his duty to bring the matter to a speedy is- 
 sue, and to hasten proceedings which involved the 
 legitimacy of the royal offspring, and which, in the 
 event of the king's premature death, might again 
 entail on the nation the miseries of a disputed suc- 
 cession. As a prince of the church, he was bound 
 to maintain the papal authority, by an undeviating 
 adherence to every canon and formality in the 
 course of a process of such importance. He is, 
 therefore, in the progress of the divorce, to be re- 
 garded as acting in a double capacity, as the mi- 
 nister of the king and of the pope. To both he 
 was bound to act with fidelity. The service of the 
 one was contrary to the interests of the other. His 
 situation was extraordinary, and his difficulties 
 without a precedent. He was placed in a situation 
 where his honesty had the effect of making him 
 equally offensive to both parties; and integrity, 
 almost necessarily, exposed him to the suspicion of 
 partiality and equivocation. Neither ought the 
 private peculiarities of his condition at this time to 
 be forgotten. He had reached the most enviable 
 place of dignity, where he had not one real friend 
 connected with his fate. His unmitigated perse- 
 verance in the reformation of the clerical abuses 
 had filled the great body of the priesthood with 
 
 8 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 193 
 
 implacable resentment ; his steady maintenance of 
 the papal pretensions exposed him to the hatred of 
 the Lutheran reformers ; his severe administration 
 of justice exasperated the pride of the nobility ; 
 his expensive foreign policy made him no less ob- 
 noxious to the people ; and his successful career 
 provoked that antipathy which contemporaries ever 
 feel against ttie successful, especially when success 
 is obtruded by ostentation. The queen had long 
 been aware of his great influence over her hus- 
 band ; and, as he appeared active and anxious in 
 the investigation of the validity of the marriage, 
 it was not surprising that she should ascribe the 
 origin of the question in a great measure to him. 
 Even Ann Bullen, of whom Henry had in the 
 meantime become enamoured, was secretly his ene- 
 my, and longed for an opportunity of gratifying 
 her resentment. 
 
 X. When the king's sister was married to Louis 
 XII. Ann Bullen, then only seven years old, went 
 in her train to Paris ; and, after the death of Louis, 
 when her mistress returned to England, she re- 
 mained behind as one of the attendants at the 
 French court ; where her beauty and sprightliness 
 had made her a general favourite. After the death 
 of Claud, the queen of Francis, she was attached 
 to the household of his sister, the Duchess of Alen- 
 con, with whom she remained until about the pe- 
 riod when the scruples of Henry became publicly 
 known, at which time she returned to England ; 
 
194 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 and was, soon after her arrival, appointed one of 
 the maids of honour to the queen. Among the 
 young noblemen then retained by the Cardinal was 
 Lord Percy, eldest son of the Earl of Northum- 
 berland, between whom and Ann Bullen an attach- 
 ment arose, and it became known that they were 
 actually betrothed. Henry, having begun to en- 
 tertain a passion for the lady, requested Wolsey, 
 when informed of the circumstance, to remonstrate 
 with the young lord on the impropriety of the con- 
 nexion. The Cardinal accordingly severely re- 
 proved Percy for matching himself with one so 
 far below his condition. But the lover defended 
 his choice, maintaining, that in point of lineage and 
 relationship she was not his inferior. Her mother 
 was a daughter of the Duke of Norfolk ; her pa- 
 ternal grandmother was scarcely less eminent, be- 
 ing one of the daughters of the Earl of Wiltshire 
 and Ormond ; and her grandfather, though him- 
 self only a lord mayor of London, had married a 
 daughter of Lord Hastings. The Cardinal, seeing 
 Percy so fixed in his attachment, sent for the Earl 
 of Northumberland ; by whose decisive interfer- 
 ence the alliance was dissolved. Percy was enjoin- 
 ed to avoid the lady s s company, and she was dis- 
 charged from court. Nor was she recalled until 
 after his marriage with a daughter of the Earl of 
 Shrewsbury. She was then not long in discover- 
 ing that the king viewed her with eyes of admira- 
 tion ; but she never forgave the Cardinal for de- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 195 
 
 priving her of Percy. She considered the banquets 
 of which she partook with the court at his palace 
 only as offerings to propitiate her rising influence, 
 and the idea increased her resentment. But it was 
 still necessary that she should dissemble ; and, to in- 
 gratiate herself the more with the king, she treated 
 the Cardinal with the utmost external respect. 
 Her vanity grew giddy with the expectation of the 
 crown, long before it was likely that she could re- 
 ceive it ; and, enriched by the profusion of her 
 royal lover, she assumed an immodest ostentation 
 of finery. 
 
 XI. The queen, dejected by infirm health, be- 
 held with humility the indecorous advancement of 
 her gentlewoman ; and, with ineffectual meekness, 
 endeavoured to win back the affections of her hus- 
 band. She even seemed to be pleased with her 
 rival, bewailing only in secret that unhappy des- 
 tiny which, in a foreign country, had reduced her- 
 self so low. The generosity of the people was 
 awakened in her favour, and they quickly found 
 out sufficient reasons to account for the conduct 
 both of Henry and his minister. They observed 
 that the emperor was no longer treated as a friend ; 
 and without troubling themselves to appreciate the 
 events which, from the battle of Pavia, had changed 
 the political interests of England, they accused 
 Wolsey of being actuated against Katherine by 
 revenge for slights and disappointments received 
 from her nephew. The notoriety of the king's af- 
 
196 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 fection for Ann Bullen was no less a satisfac- 
 tory explanation of his motives; although he 
 had before violated his conjugal fidelity, and 
 afterwards returned to the queen, whose virtues 
 and chaste demeanour he had never ceased to 
 esteem. That Ann Bullen was frequently seen 
 at those entertainments where the Cardinal de- 
 lighted to exhibit his magnificence, is rather a proof 
 of the lax morality of the Court, than evidence of 
 any deliberate design on his part either to aid her 
 promotion, or to mortify the queen. Towards her, 
 indeed, he appears never to have entertained any 
 particular partiality ; and it has been alleged, that 
 one of the causes which hastened his ruin was her 
 apprehension that, in the event of the marriage 
 being annulled, he would exert his influence to 
 provide a more honourable match for the king. 
 She vindictively remembered the frustration of her 
 first love, and dreaded the disappointment of her 
 ambition. 
 
 XII. While the Cardinal was in France on his 
 great embassy, the first messenger on the subject 
 of the marriage was sent to Rome. It is not very 
 clearly ascertained whether the message related to 
 the king's scruples, or only to procure such a legi- 
 timation by the pope of the princess's birth as 
 should obviate the doubts which had been sug- 
 gested. The earliest regular despatch written on 
 the subject of the divorce is dated five months 
 posterior. By it the king's agents at Rome appear 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 197 
 
 to have been previously informed of the state of 
 their master's mind ; for in reporting the opinion 
 of the learned as to the illegality of dispensations 
 granted contrary to the divine laws, the Cardinal 
 urges the expediency of allowing a divorce to pass, 
 not only to avert the future miseries of a disputed 
 succession, but to appease the inquietude of the 
 king's conscience. Nor were bribes omitted to pro- 
 cure the compliance of his holiness ; who granted, 
 in consequence, a commission to investigate the 
 case, and to proceed with the business in England. 
 Before it arrived, Henry transmitted an application 
 for a special legate to be sent to London for the pur- 
 pose. This new request was communicated by the 
 pope to two of the cardinals ; and, in a conference 
 held with them in presence of the English agents, 
 he expressed himself to the following effect : — 
 " Wolsey, by the commission already issued, or by 
 his extraordinary general legatine authority, is, I 
 conceive, fully empowered to proceed in this affair 
 If the king in his own conscience be convinced of 
 the rectitude of his intentions, and there is no doc- 
 tor in the world more able to settle the point than 
 himself, he should accelerate judgment, and then 
 send for a legate to confirm what he has done. 
 For it will be easier to ratify what cannot be re- 
 called, than to terminate such a process in the court 
 of Rome. The queen may protest against the place 
 and the judge, by which, in the course of law, I 
 shall be obliged to prohibit the king from marrying 
 
198 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 while the suit is pending, and must revoke the 
 trial to Rome. But if j udgment were given in Eng- 
 land, and the king married to another wife, very 
 good reasons might be found to justify the confirm 
 mation of a decision that had gone so far." This 
 equivocal mode of proceeding was not agreeable to 
 Henry ; and Wolsey informed the pope that the 
 king was resolved that the business should be so 
 conducted as to prevent all discontent at home and 
 cavilling abroad. He therefore entreated that ano- 
 ther cardinal might be joined with him in the com- 
 mission for the trial. This application was the 
 result of a debate which had taken place in the 
 English cabinet on the arrival of the first commis- 
 sion. It was apprehended, that if Wolsey were 
 to give sentence in the king's favour, the pope, 
 being then on all sides surrounded by the emperor's 
 forces, might be deterred from confirming it ; and 
 it was intimated, in the course of the discussion, 
 that if his holiness continued to act in a manner 
 subservient to the will of Charles, some other way 
 must be found to relieve the mind of the king. 
 What that way was likely to be, the Cardinal was 
 well aware, and in consequence addressed Clement 
 with uncommon vehemence and eloquent anxiety. 
 He entreated his holiness as if he were prostrate at 
 his feet ; that if he thought him a Christian, a 
 good cardinal, and not unworthy of that dignity ; 
 a promoter of justice, or believed that he desired 
 his own eternal salvation ; to grant kindly and 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 199 
 
 speedily the king's earnest request ; " which, if I 
 did not know," said Wolsey, " to be just and 
 right, I would undergo any hazard of punishment 
 rather than promote it. And I fear, if the king 
 find you so overawed by the emperor as not to al- 
 low what all Christendom considers as authorised 
 by divine authority, that he, and other Christian 
 princes, will not only contemn, but curtail the 
 apostolical power.'" The result of this and other 
 representations to the same purpose, with the more 
 effectual advocacy of tangible motives, was the ap- 
 pointment of Cardinal Campeggio to go to Eng- 
 land, in order to try the validity of the marriage 
 in conjunction with Wolsey. This prelate held 
 the bishopric of Salisbury, and was supposed to 
 be favourable to the wishes of the English court ; 
 but in the sequel he acted with independence and 
 perhaps integrity. 
 
 XIII. Katherine in the meantime was not idle. 
 She informed Charles of her situation, and re- 
 ceived the strongest assurances of his support. 
 The people also were strenuous in her cause. Her 
 gentle manners, innocent infirmities, and deserted 
 condition, excited their compassion, and roused 
 their indignation to such a degree against those 
 whom they considered her enemies, that the king 
 found it necessary to make a public declaration of 
 his motives to the peers, the clergy, the judges, and 
 lawyers of the realm. " It is now almost twenty 
 years,' 1 said he, " since we began our reign among 
 
200 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 you ; in the course of which we have, by the as- 
 sistance of Providence, so behaved ourself, that we 
 hope you have no cause to complain, nor our ene- 
 mies to glory. No foreign power has attempted 
 to injure you with impunity ; nor have we em- 
 ployed our arms without victory. Whether you 
 regard the fruits of peace or the trophies of war, 
 we dare boldly aver, that we have shown ourselves 
 not unworthy of our ancestors. But when we re- 
 flect on the end of frail life, we are surprised by 
 fear lest the miseries of future times obscure the 
 splendour and memory of our present felicity. 
 We see here many who, by their age, may have 
 been witnesses of the late civil wars, which, for 
 eighty years together, so dreadfully afflicted this 
 kingdom. No man knew whom to acknowledge 
 for his sovereign, until the happy union of our pa- 
 rents removed the cause of this doubt. Consider, 
 then, whether, after our death, you may hope for 
 better days than when the factions of York and 
 Lancaster distracted the nation? — We have a 
 daughter, whom we the more affectionately love 
 because she is our only child. But it is proper to 
 inform you, that, treating with the French king 
 concerning a match with her and our godson, 
 Henry Duke of Orleans, one of his privy-counsel- 
 lors objected to the legitimacy of the princess, her 
 mother having been married to our deceased bro- 
 ther ; alleging, at the same time, that the marriage 
 with our queen could not be detuned otherwise 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 201 
 
 than incestuous. How much this allegation af- 
 flicted us, God, the searcher of hearts, only knows. 
 For the question affected not only our consort and 
 daughter, but implied the danger of eternal punish- 
 ment to our souls, if, after being admonished of 
 such horrible incest, we did not endeavour to 
 amend. For your parts, you cannot but foresee 
 the evils with which this matter is pregnant to you 
 and your posterity. Desirous of being resolved 
 on a point so important, we first conferred with our 
 friends, and then with men the most learned in hu- 
 man and divine laws ; but they gave no satisfac- 
 tion, and only left us more perplexed. We then 
 had recourse to the pope, and procured the vener- 
 able legate, who has lately arrived from Rome, to 
 investigate the case. For the queen, whatever 
 may be the detractions of women and tatlers, we 
 willingly and openly profess that, because in noble- 
 ness of mind she far transcends the greatness of 
 her birth, were we now at liberty and free to 
 choose, among all the beauties of the world, we 
 would not, as we take God to witness, make choice 
 of any other. In mildness, prudence, sanctity of 
 mind, and conversation, she is not to be paralleled. 
 But we were given to the world for other ends 
 than the pursuit of our own pleasure. We, there- 
 fore, prefer the hazard of uncertain trial, rather 
 than commit impiety against Heaven, and ingrati- 
 tude against our country, the weal and safety of 
 which every man should prefer before his life and 
 
202 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 fortune." — This oration affected the audience in 
 different ways : some lamented the king's anxiety, 
 but many more the situation of the queen, and all 
 doubted and feared the result. The boisterous 
 generosity of the people, decidedly in her favour, 
 was not easily controlled ; and the declaration of 
 the king was treated by them as an attempt to con- 
 ceal a gross and an adulterous passion. 
 
 XIV. In the beginning of the year 1529, the 
 pope was seized with a violent disorder, from which 
 he was not expected to recover. Wolsey, on hear- 
 ing of this, immediately began to canvass for the 
 papal chair, and the correspondence which he held 
 for this purpose serves to illustrate the bias of his 
 ambition, and to show the objects to which he 
 would have directed his attention in the event of 
 attaining the supreme dignity. In one of his let- 
 ters he charges his agents to procure access to the 
 pope ; and, though he were in the very agony of 
 death, to propose two things to him : first, that he 
 would command all the princes of Christendom to 
 lay down their arms. " His holiness," says he, 
 6( can do nothing more meritorious for the good of 
 his soul than to close his life with so holy an act ; 
 and, secondly, that he would promote the king's 
 business as a thing essential to the clearing of his 
 conscience towards God." But the pope recovered, 
 and, offended by the eagerness with which the 
 Cardinal aspired to succeed him, was little disposed 
 to take his advice. Tressed on the one hand by 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 203 
 
 the queen's relations, who urged him to avocate 
 the cause to Rome, and on the other by Henry, 
 who was equally solicitous that it should be brought 
 to an immediate decision, he adopted a procrasti- 
 nating policy ; and, by the address of Campeggio, 
 the year was far advanced before the requisite ar- 
 rangements for the trial were completed. 
 
 XV. The sovereign of a powerful kingdom, ac- 
 customed to absolute sway, and under no appre- 
 hensions from any foreign power, freely submitting 
 to be cited before a tribunal erected within his own 
 dominions, for the purpose of determining a cause 
 in which his own honour and happiness were so 
 deeply involved, was a spectacle equally singular 
 and interesting, and calculated to arrest the at- 
 tention of all descriptions of men. The thirty- 
 first day of May was fixed for opening the court ; 
 and the hall of the Blackfriars convent in London, 
 where the parliament in those days usually assem- 
 bled, was prepared for the occasion. At the up- 
 per end hung a canopy ; under which, on an ele- 
 vated platform, the king sat in a chair of state. 
 The queen was seated at some distance, a little 
 lower. In front of the king, but three steps be- 
 neath him, and so placed that the one appeared on 
 his right hand, and the other on his left, Wolsey 
 and Campeggio were placed ; and at their feet se- 
 veral clerks and officers ; before whom, and within 
 the bar, were the prelates of the realm. Without 
 the bar, on one side, stood the advocates and proc- 
 
204 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 tors of the king ; and on the other those appointed 
 for the queen. The sides of the hall were occu- 
 pied with successive tiers of benches, which were 
 crowded to a great height with all the most illus- 
 trious and noble persons of the nation. 
 
 XVI. Silence being proclaimed, the commission 
 of the legates was read, and an officer, called the 
 apparitor, cried aloud, " Henry, King of England, 
 come into the court.'" The king answered, " Here 
 I am." The queen was then also summoned, but 
 she made no reply. Rising from her chair, she de- 
 scended to the floor, and walked around the court. 
 Not a breathing was heard. When she came op- 
 posite to the king, she knelt down, and addressed 
 him to the following effect : — " I humbly beseech 
 your majesty to extend to me your wonted cle- 
 mency. I am a helpless woman and a stranger, 
 born out of your dominions, and destitute of friends 
 and counsel. I cannot plead for myself, and I 
 know not whom to employ. Those who are re- 
 tained for me are only such as you have been 
 pleased to appoint. They are your own subjects ; 
 and who can believe that they shall be able to with- 
 stand your will and pleasure ? Alas ! sir, in what 
 have I offended, that, after twenty years spent in 
 peaceable wedlock, and having born to you so many 
 children, you should think of putting me away ? I 
 was, I confess, the widow of your brother, if slie 
 can be accounted a widow whom her husband ne\er 
 knew; for I take Almighty God to witness, that I 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 205 
 
 came to your bed an unblemished virgin. How I 
 have behaved myself I am willing to appeal even 
 to those who wish me the least good. Certainly, 
 whatever their verdict may be, you have always 
 found me a most faithful servant, I may rather say, 
 than wife, having never to my knowledge opposed 
 even in appearacce your will. I always loved, 
 without regard to their merits, those whom you fa- 
 voured. I so anxiously contributed to your hap- 
 piness, that I fear I have offended God in studying 
 your inclinations too much, and not by neglecting 
 any duty. By my fidelity, if ever you thought it 
 worthy of regard, — by our common issue, and by 
 the memory of your father, which you sometimes 
 held dear, — I implore you to defer the proceed- 
 ings of this cause until I have consulted my friends 
 in Spain. If then, in justice, it shall be thought 
 meet to send me from you, a part of whom I have 
 so long been, and the apprehension is more terrible 
 than death, I will continue my long-observed obe- 
 dience, and submit. — But when I reflect on the re- 
 putation of our fathers, by whose endeavours our 
 union was formed, I hope confidently of niv cause. 
 Your father, for his admirable wisdom, was ae- 
 counted a second Solomon. Nor can Spain, through- 
 out the whole succession of the sovereigns of all 
 her kingdoms, produce any one to parallel mine. 
 What kind of counsellors must we think thOH 
 princes had, that all should, as it were, conspire to 
 hurl us into incestuous sin. No question was then 
 
206 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 made of the lawfulness of our marriage ; and yet 
 those times afforded learned men, who, in holiness 
 and love of truth, far surpassed the flatterers of these 
 in which we now live. ,, — She then rose, and, making 
 obeisance to the king, hastened out of the court. 
 She had not, however, proceeded far, when the 
 king commanded the apparitor to call her back. 
 Without attending to the summons, she still went 
 forward. A gentleman, on whose arm she leaned, 
 observed, that she was called. " I hear it very 
 well,"" she replied, " but on, on, go you on. Let 
 them proceed against me as they please ; I am re- 
 solved not to stay." Nor could she be afterwards 
 persuaded to appear a second time. 
 
 XVII. " In the queen's absence," said Hen- 
 ry, addressing himself to the audience, " I will 
 freely declare to you all, that she has been uni- 
 formly as true, as obedient, and as dutiful a wife, 
 as I could wish or desire. She has all the virtues 
 that ought to be in a woman of her dignity, or in 
 any other of inferior condition. Her birth is, in- 
 deed, not more noble than her qualities." Wolsey, 
 conceiving that some of Katherine's insinuations 
 were directed towards him, entreated the king to 
 declare, whether he had either been the first or the 
 chief mover in the business, as suspicions to that 
 effect were entertained. " My Lord Cardinal,'" 
 answered Henry, " I can well excuse you : so far 
 from being a mover, you have been rather against 
 me. The first cause was the disturbance produced 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 207 
 
 in my mind by the doubts which the French mini 
 ster entertained of the legitimacy of my daughter. 
 His doubts engendered such scruples in my bo- 
 som that I became greatly perplexed. I began 
 to think myself in danger of God's indignation., 
 which appeared already manifest ; for all the sons 
 that my wife brought to me were cut off imme- 
 diately after they came into the world. Being 
 thus tossed on the waves of doubtful thought, and 
 despairing of having any other issue by the queen, 
 it became my duty to consider the state of the 
 kingdom, and the calamities of a disputed succes- 
 sion. I, therefore, conceived it to be good for the 
 ease of my conscience, and also for the security of 
 the nation, to ascertain, in the event of my marri- 
 age proving unlawful, whether I might take ano- 
 ther wife. And it is this point which we are about 
 to try by the learning and wisdom of you the pre- 
 lates and pastors of the kingdom. To you I have 
 committed the judgment, and to your decision 
 I am willing to submit. My Lord of Lincoln, - ' 1 
 said he, addressing the bishop of that see, " it was 
 first to you in confession that I communicated my 
 scruples ; and as you were yourself in doubt, you 
 advised me to consult all these my lords ; upon 
 which I moved you, my Lord of Canterbury, as 
 metropolitan, to put the question to the bishops; 
 and all your opinions granted under your respec- 
 tive seals are here to be exhibited. 11 The kino 
 having delivered this address the court adjourned 
 
208 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 XVIII. Katherine persisted in her resolution 
 of never again entering the court. To the moni- 
 tory letters citing her to attend, and threatening 
 her with the consequences of contumacy, she re- 
 plied by appealing to the pope, excepting to the 
 place of trial, to the judges, and to her counsel, 
 and desiring that the cause might be heard at 
 Rome. She was declared contumacious, and the 
 legates proceeded in the process. Notwithstand- 
 ing her solemn assertions respecting the non-con- 
 summation of her first marriage, probability and 
 the testimonies of the witnesses were against her ; 
 and the evidence was as distinct as the case ad- 
 mitted, or could have been expected, after the 
 lapse of such a period of time. Meanwhile she 
 wrote to her nephew the emperor, and to his bro- 
 ther the King of Hungary, earnestly entreating 
 them to procure an avocation of the cause to Rome, 
 and declaring that she would suffer any thing, 
 even death itself, rather than submit to a divorce. 
 In consequence of these representations, Charles 
 and Ferdinand sent orders to their ambassadors, 
 to allow the pope no rest until he consented to 
 the avocation. The emperor threatened that he 
 would regard a sentence against his aunt as a 
 dishonour done to his family, and would lose 
 his throne rather than endure it. At the same 
 time, Cardinal Campeggio secretly informed his 
 holiness of the proceedings in England, and like- 
 wise urged the avocation. The reasons alleged 
 
 3 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 209 
 
 by the queen for appealing, were in themselves so 
 just, that the pope was left without any plausible 
 pretext for delaying to comply with the emperor's 
 request. But for some time he was awed by the 
 resolute character of Henry, and the vehement 
 representations of Wolsey. The Cardinal warned 
 him, that if the cause was avocated at the suit of 
 Katherine^ relations, the king and kingdom of 
 England were lost to the apostolical see ; and he 
 besought him to leave it still in the hands of the 
 legates, who would execute their commission just- 
 ly. " For my self, 11 said he, " rather than be 
 swayed by fear or affection against the dictates of 
 my conscience, I will suffer to be torn in pieces 
 joint by joint." Clement, however, informed the 
 English agents that the lawyers of Rome were 
 unanimously of opinion, that he could not, in 
 common justice, refuse the avocation ; and added, 
 with many sighs and tears, that the destruction of 
 Christendom was inevitable. " No man," he ex- 
 claimed, " perceives the consequences of this mea- 
 sure more clearly than I do ; but I am between the 
 hammer and the anvil, and on my head the whole 
 weight must fall. I would do more for the king 
 than I have promised, but it is impossible to deny 
 the emperor justice. I am surrounded by his 
 forces, and myself and all that I have arc at his 
 disposal. 11 The agents, after this, urged liini no 
 further, but only studied to impede the issuing of 
 the bull for the avocation, while they wrote to 
 
210 CARDINAL "WOLSEY. 
 
 England, recommending the process to be hurried 
 to a conclusion. Campeggio, on his part, was no 
 less dexterous in contriving expedients to prolong 
 the trial. 
 
 XIX. The frequent adjournments of the court, 
 on frivolous pretences, excited suspicions in the 
 breast of Henry ; and he began to think, that the 
 despatches of Wolsey evinced a greater degree of 
 anxiety for the interests of the church than for 
 those of his sovereign. This idea led him to treat 
 the Cardinal with less cordiality, — a change which 
 the keen-sighted enmity of the courtiers did not 
 fail to observe and to promote by every art. Wol- 
 sey was not blind to the slippery verge on which 
 he stood, nor unaffected by those altered looks 
 which were regarded as the omens of his fall. One 
 day returning in his barge from the trial at Black- 
 friars to his residence in Westminster, the Bishop 
 of Carlisle, who accompanied him, happened to 
 complain of the excessive heat of the weather. 
 " If you were so chafed, my lord, as I have been 
 to-day, you would be warm indeed,' 1 said the Car- 
 dinal, alluding to a conversation which he had im- 
 mediately before held with Henry. As soon as he 
 entered his house, he undressed, and went to bed 
 He had not, however, lain long down, when Lord 
 IWhford, the father of Ann Bullen, came to him 
 from the king, with a command, that he and Cam- 
 peggio should immediately repair to Katherine, and 
 exhort her to retire into some religious house, ra- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. Wl 
 
 ther than undergo the disgrace of a public divorce. 
 " You and other lords of the council," exclaimed 
 Wolsey, " have put fancies into the king's head, 
 which trouble all the nation, and for which, in the 
 end, you will receive but little recompense." Roch- 
 ford, as if conscious of deserving the sternness of the 
 reproaches which the Cardinal continued to vent 
 against him as he dressed himself, knelt down at 
 the bedside, and, weeping, made no reply. 
 
 XX. The two legates went to the queen, whom 
 they found sitting among her maids at needle- 
 work, with a skein of thread hanging about her 
 neck. She rose at their entrance, and requested 
 to know their pleasure. Wolsey addressed her in 
 Latin. " Speak to me in English," said she, " that 
 my attendants may know what you say." " If it 
 please you, madam," he resumed, " we come to 
 know from yourself, how you are really disposed 
 in the business between you and the king, and to 
 offer our opinion and advice." " As for your good- 
 will," answered Katherine, " I thank you, and I 
 am willing to hear your advice. But the business 
 upon which you come is of such importance, that 
 it requires much deliberation, and the help of a 
 mind superior to feminine weakness. You see my 
 employment. It is thus that my time is spent 
 among my women, who are not the wisest counsel- 
 lors, and yet I have no other in England, for 
 Spain, where my friends are, God knows, is far off. 
 Still I am content to hear what vou have to say. 
 
212 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 and will give you an answer when I can conveni- 
 ently.'" She then conducted them into an inner 
 apartment, where, having attentively heard their 
 message, she addressed herself to Wolsey with 
 great warmth. She accused him as the author of 
 her misfortunes, because she could not endure his 
 excessive arrogance and voluptuous life, and chiefly 
 because she was related to the emperor, v. ho had 
 refused to feed his insatiable ambition with the 
 papal dignity. Nor would she permit him to re- 
 ply, but dismissed him with marked displeasure, 
 while she courteously parted from Campeggio. 
 
 XXI. The trial, as far as respected the exa- 
 mination of evidence, being completed, the court 
 was crowded with spectators, and a general expec- 
 tation prevailed, that sentence would at last be 
 given. The king himself, impatient for the deci- 
 sion, was seated in a gallery contiguous to the hall. 
 But, to the surprise of the whole audience, Cam- 
 peggio adjourned the court, on the pretence that, 
 as it sat as part of the Roman consistory, the le- 
 gates were bound to follow the rules of that court, 
 which was then in vacation. And he added, " I 
 will not give judgment without the counsel and 
 commandment of the pope, to whom the whole 
 proceedings must be first communicated. The 
 affair itself is too high for us to deliver a hasty de- 
 cision, considering the dignity of the persons to 
 whom it relates, the doubtful occasion of it, the 
 nature of our commission, and the authority by 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 213 
 
 which we act. It is therefore fitting, that we 
 should consult our proper head and lord. I am 
 not to please, for favour, fear, or reward, any man 
 alive, be he king or subject ; and the queen will 
 make no answer, but has appealed to the pope. I 
 am an old man, feeble and sickly, looking every 
 day for death ; what will it avail me to put my 
 soul in danger for the favour of any prince in this 
 world? I am here only to see justice administered 
 according to my conscience. The defendant be- 
 lieves we cannot be impartial judges, because we 
 are the king's subjects ; therefore, to avoid all am- 
 biguities and misrepresentations, I adjourn the 
 court, according to the practice of the consistory of 
 Rome, from which our jurisdiction is derived, and 
 that we may not exceed the limits of our commis- 
 sion." The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were 
 present, and remonstrated with Campeggio for de- 
 laying the sentence ; but he replied, that no deci- 
 sion pronounced during the vacation could be 
 legal. Suffolk broke out into a violent passion, 
 and, vehemently striking his hand upon the table, 
 swore by the mass, that he saw it was true what 
 was commonly said, that " never cardinal did good 
 in England." Wolsey, conceiving the insinuation 
 to be directed against him, said, in a sedate em- 
 phatic manner, — " Sir, of all men in this realm., 
 you have the least cause to disparage cardinals-; 
 for if poor I had not been, you would not now 
 have had a head on your shoulders to talk so con- 
 
214 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 temptuously of us, who neither mean you harm, 
 nor have given you cause to be offended. I would 
 have you to know, my lord, that I and my brother 
 wish the king as much happiness, and the nation 
 as much honour, wealth, and peace, as you or any 
 other subject whatsoever, and would as gladly 
 gratify all his lawful desires. But, my lord, what 
 would you do if you were one of the king^s com- 
 missioners in a foreign country, intrusted with the 
 investigation of a solemn and dubious affair; 
 would you not consult with his majesty before you 
 finished the business ? I doubt not but you would. 
 Therefore, repress your malice. Consider we are 
 commissioners, and for a time cannot proceed to 
 judgment, without the knowledge of him from 
 whom our authority is derived. Nor can we do 
 more or less than our commission allows ; and he 
 that will be offended with us on this account is 
 not a wise man. Pacify yourself, my lord, and 
 speak with discretion, like a man of honour, or 
 hold your tongue. Speak not reproachfully of 
 your friends. The friendship that I have shown 
 you, and which before I never mentioned, you well 
 know. 11 The king, in the meantime, comported 
 himself with more moderation than might have 
 been expected from his impetuous temper. He 
 manifested no particular displeasure, but still the 
 ruin of Wolscy was considered inevitable. Cam- 
 peggio soon after took his leave, and, richly re- 
 warded, departed for Home; and it was currently 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 215 
 
 reported, that Wolsey also intended to quit the 
 kingdom, — so fully convinced was the public mind 
 that he no longer possessed the king's favour. 
 At this crisis, Ann Bullen, whom a sense of shame 
 had induced to withdraw from court during the 
 trial, was recalled. Regarding Wolsey with fear 
 and aversion, as the determined foe of all her pro- 
 jects of love and ambition, she industriously foster- 
 ed the suspicions which had grown up in the mind 
 of Henry ; and it began to be rumoured, that the 
 Cardinal had incurred the penalties of the statute 
 of premunire. Although aware of what was to 
 ensue, and evidently corroded by anxiety and sus- 
 pense, a kind of haughty magnanimity would 
 not allow him to abate, in any respect, his accus- 
 tomed ostentation and pretensions. He opened the 
 Michaelmas term at Westminster-hall with all his 
 usual pomp and ceremony, and performed the 
 duties, as if unconscious that it was for the last 
 time. In the course of the evening, it is supposed 
 that he received private information of his disgrace 
 having been determined, for next day he remained 
 at home ; but no messenger came from the king. 
 On the following morning, however, the Dukes of 
 Norfolk and Suffolk arrived, and required the 
 great seal to be delivered to them, informing him, 
 that it was the king's pleasure that he should re- 
 tire to Ashur, an ecclesiastical seat which belonged 
 to him as Bishop of Winchester. With this requi- 
 sition he refused to comply, saying, that the seal 
 
210 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 had been given to him personally by the king to 
 enjoy it, with the ministration of the chancellor- 
 ship, for life, and, as he had letters-patent to 
 that effect, it was necessary they should produce 
 their commission before he could lawfully deliver 
 it into their hands. A warm debate arose ; but 
 the Cardinal was firm, and the two noblemen went 
 away without having accomplished their purpose. 
 Next day they returned with credentials that could 
 not be disputed ; and, his power being ended, he 
 prepared for the resignation of his wealth. In- 
 ventories were made of his furniture; and in- 
 credible quantities of massy plate, velvets, damasks, 
 and the richest tissues, laid out on the tables of his 
 different chambers and galleries, were held by his 
 treasurer at the disposal of the king. 
 
 XXII. With his train of gentlemen and yeomen 
 he proceeded to his barge, which lay at the Privy- 
 garden stairs, where a vast multitude was assem- 
 bled silently waiting, in the expectation of seeing 
 him conveyed to the Tower. One of his domestics, 
 with much concern, mentioned what the crowd ex- 
 pected. The Cardinal, gently reprimanding the 
 servant for his credulity and officiousness, said, that 
 he took a bad way to comfort his master in adver- 
 sity. " I would have you," added he, sternly, 
 " and all the authors of such false reports, to 
 know that I never deserved to be Bent to the 
 Tower." The barge was rowed to Putney, where 
 he landed, and mounted his mule. The servant- 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 217 
 
 followed ; but they had not advanced far when a 
 horseman was discovered riding down the hill to- 
 wards them. It was a messenger from the king, 
 sent to assure him of unaltered esteem and kind- 
 ness ; and to say, that the severity which he suf- 
 fered was caused more by political considerations 
 than by motives of anger or resentment. " His 
 majesty in this," said the messenger, u only fol- 
 lows the advice of others ; and therefore your 
 grace should not give way to despondency, but 
 cherish comfortable hopes." In the surprise and 
 gratitude of the moment, Wolsey alighted from 
 his mule, and, kneeling down on the spot, lifted 
 up his hands to heaven, and returned thanks for 
 this unexpected consolation. He rewarded the 
 bearer of the message with a chain of gold and 
 a precious relic from about his neck ; and as a 
 proof to the king of the pleasure which this as- 
 surance had afforded, he sent him a jester from 
 among his train, with those buffooneries Henry 
 had often been diverted. It might be inferred 
 from this incident, that the Cardinal's disgrace was 
 only a stratagem to intimidate the pope ; but his 
 enemies turned it to their own advantage, and he 
 was left deserted at Ashur. 
 
 XXIII. Ruin is doubtless the same to men of 
 all conditions ; but persons in elevated stations, 
 as they fall from a greater height than men of 
 ordinary rank, perhaps suffer under a more over- 
 whelming sense of calamity. Disgrace also i- 
 
218 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 more acutely felt as it is more generally known, 
 and the interest of a whole people adds an ideal 
 weight to the misfortunes of fallen greatness. 
 Wolsey now stood forth to view confessedly a 
 ruined main. Sudden adversity had blasted all 
 his blushing honours ; and, as a sure prognostic of 
 approaching decay, the ephemeral swarms which 
 had lived in his shade disappeared, and left him in 
 solitude. Of all afflictions which assail the human 
 heart, ingratitude has ever given the severest blow ; 
 and men who have lost the possession of extensive 
 power are peculiarly exposed to the evil. The official 
 dependants of the Cardinal manifested the common 
 baseness of political adherents ; and none but his 
 immediate domestics, who partook in the over- 
 throw of his fortunes, remained to console their 
 fallen master. Bodily suffering would have, been 
 relief to his proud mind ; but to be left alone to 
 brood over his disgrace ; to feel the coldness of 
 deliberate neglect ; to be conscious of the insolent 
 triumph of his enemies ; and, with so liberal a 
 spirit, to be deprived of the means of rewarding 
 the faithful attachment of his servants, was a pu- 
 nishment, as he observed himself, far worse than 
 death. The agitations of suspense gradually sub- 
 sided into despondency, and he was seized with 
 that sickness of spirit which is more fatal to the 
 powers of life than the sharpest sorrow. Had he 
 been sent to the scaflold, he would in all probabi- 
 lity have met death with firmness ; but the course 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 219 
 
 which the king pursued, though dictated no doubt 
 by some remains of tenderness, was that of all 
 others against which he was least able to bear him- 
 self with fortitude. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 Henry VIII. had now reigned upwards of twenty 
 years with great prosperity and renown. Had he 
 died before the close of the Cardinal's administra- 
 tion, he would have been commemorated as one of 
 the best, as he was unquestionably one of the 
 ablest and greatest monarch s that ever wore the 
 crown of Fngland. Much of his celebrity would 
 obviously have been due to Wolsey ; but if princes 
 are individually blamed for the errors and failures 
 of their ministers, humanity claims for them the 
 honour of their wisdom and success. As they arc 
 responsible for the measures of the men whom 
 they employ, it is but just that they should be al- 
 lowed the merit of discernment when they pro- 
 mote those who maintain the dignity and advance 
 the power of their states. In this respect, Henry 
 is entitled to great praise ; for, except bv the mis_ 
 sion to Maximilian, in the preceding reign, Wol- 
 sey was unknown as a public character, and had 
 not, by any scries of actions or particular exploit. 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 221 
 
 excited a disposition to believe him qualified for 
 the high offices which he so suddenly obtained. 
 Whatever the motives were which induced the 
 king to confer upon him the chief exercise of the 
 royal prerogatives, the sagacity by which he per- 
 ceived his fitness would have been admired in the 
 profoundest politician. By presenting the Cardi- 
 nal as the main spring of the government, he 
 screened himself from the clamour against unpo- 
 pular undertakings ; and, in interposing occasion- 
 ally to please the people, he acquired more distin- 
 guished applause; while, at the same time, the 
 great talents of Wolsey justified the confidence 
 which he continued to bestow. But from the dis- 
 missal of the Cardinal, his history exhibits a new 
 character. Unrestrained by deference to the opi- 
 nion of any other, and no longer fully confiding in the 
 abilities of counsellors, whom he was habituated to 
 regard as inferior men, his arbitrary spirit assum- 
 ed the mastery of the government ; and his natural 
 frankness, unqualified for the practice of that re- 
 serve and procrastination which is perhaps essen- 
 tial to the management of public affairs, betrayed 
 him into violent courses, which the ready agency 
 of the priesthood and the complacency of the par- 
 liament shamefully facilitated. But such is the 
 system of Providence. The base propensities of 
 individuals yield beneficial results to the species, 
 and particular evils always engender general good. 
 To the caprice of Henry VIII., and the syco- 
 
2%2 CARDINAL WOLSEV. 
 
 phancy of his counsellors, England owes the re- 
 formation of religion, and the diminution of ec- 
 clesiastical tyranny. 
 
 II. The Cardinal, for more than seven years, 
 had contrived to manage the government without 
 parliamentary advice. The revenue and ordinary 
 resources were adequate to the expenditure ; and 
 therefore it was unnecessary to trouble the peers 
 and representatives ; for pecuniary necessities con- 
 stitute the chief motives which induce ministers to 
 convene the collective wisdom of the nation. After 
 the dismissal of Wolsey parliament was assembled, 
 both on account of the state of the exchequer, and 
 the vengeance which the king had vowed against 
 the pope for revoking the process to Rome. Ex- 
 cept in the appointment of Sir Thomas More to 
 the chancery, no change had taken place in the 
 administration ; yet the counsellors had the effron- 
 tery to throw upon the Cardinal all the blame of 
 the unpopular proceedings, in which they had 
 themselves been previously concerned. It is the 
 frequent recurrence of such examples of public 
 dereliction that sickens to disgust, and sours into 
 misanthropy, the feelings of historians in relating 
 the cabals and conspiracies of courts. But the 
 ministers of Henry VIII. were not influenced by 
 those considerations which induced Wolsey to over- 
 look present obstacles in contemplating the conse- 
 quences of his undertakings. They felt not the 
 desire of that renown which can only be attained 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. %23 
 
 by accomplishing works of utility. They wanted 
 that prophetic anticipation of the effects of exist- 
 ing circumstances, which alone enables statesmen 
 to dignify and even to hallow those acts of tem- 
 porary injustice which seem so often mysteriously 
 imposed upon their transactions. They were fas- 
 tened close down to sordid and selfish aims ; and 
 their views and faculties were limited to momen- 
 tary expedients, which disturbed, without altering, 
 the great current of human affairs. They procur- 
 ed from parliament acts which abridged the prero- 
 gatives of the clergy, in order to manifest to the 
 court of Rome the resolution of the king to main- 
 tain his royal supremacy. The utility of these 
 measures obviates the objection to the morality of 
 the motive ; but other laws were obtained that 
 have no such apology. The king had contracted 
 debts, and they absolved him from the payment ; 
 and, as if the letting loose of delinquents on so- 
 ciety could have been any compensation to his 
 creditors, or any indemnity to mankind, for the 
 public violation of common honesty, a general par- 
 don for all offences, except the crimes of murder 
 and treason, was granted. Articles of impeach- 
 ment were also drawn up against the Cardinal, 
 characteristic of the folly and wickedness of the 
 new administration. He was charged with supe- 
 riority of talents, and surpassing assiduity in bust. 
 ness ; and with being eloquent in discourse, sar- 
 castic to the presumptuous, liberal, loftv-minded, 
 
224 CARDINAL WGLSEY. 
 
 subject to the common frailties of man, and disa- 
 greeable when afflicted with disease. The main 
 strength of his enemies lay in the House of Lords, 
 among the nobility, the prelates, and the abbots ; 
 and the bill of impeachment in consequence passed 
 that branch of the legislature. But in the House 
 of Commons, Thomas Cromwell, who had been 
 secretary to the Cardinal, so manfully exposed the 
 absurdity of the charges, and so powerfully vindi- 
 cated the integrity of his old master, that the Com- 
 mons threw out the bill as unworthy of investiga- 
 tion. This circumstance, considering the times, 
 and the general subserviency of the House of Com- 
 mons to the crown, was the most emphatic eulogium 
 that could be pronounced on the long and various 
 administration of Wolsey. 
 
 III. The impeachment having failed, the Car- 
 dinal was immediately indicted on the sixteenth 
 statute of Richard III., for having exercised his 
 legatine commission without the king's authority 
 One of the judges was sent to Ashur to receive his 
 answer to this shameless accusation. The reply 
 of Wolsey was proud and melancholy. " I am, v 
 said he, " now sixty years old, and the best of 
 my days have been spent in his majesty's service, 
 in which my whole endeavour was to please him : 
 and is this that heinous offence for which I am de- 
 prived in old age of my all, and driven as it were 
 to beg my bread ? I expected some higher charge ; 
 not that I am guilty, hut because his majesty know ^ 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 225 
 
 how ill it becomes the magnanimity of a king to 
 condemn, without a hearing, a servant who was 
 greatest in his favour ; and to inflict for a slight 
 fault a punishment more cruel than death. What 
 man is he that would not die rather than witness 
 those, whose faithful service he has long experienc- 
 ed, starving around him ? But, since so little can 
 be alleged against me, I hope that this machination 
 of combined envy, will be as easily broken as my 
 impeachment was thrown out of the parliament. 
 It is well known to the king, that I would not 
 have presumed to exercise my legatine commission 
 without his royal assent. All my property, as you 
 know, is under sequestration ; I cannot, therefore, 
 at present produce his letters, neither indeed if I 
 could would I ; for why should I contend with the 
 king ? Go, therefore, and tell him, that I acknow- 
 ledge all that I have, (but of what do I speak ? for 
 I have nothing left,) or whatsoever I had, to be the 
 gifts of his royal bounty ; and it is but just that 
 he should revoke his favours if he think me un- 
 worthy of them. I remit my cause to him, to be 
 at his pleasure either condemned or pardoned. If 
 you will have me acknowledge myself guilty, be it 
 so ; but the king knows my innocence, and neither 
 my own confession, nor the detractions of my ene- 
 mies, can deceive him. 11 The judge then request- 
 ed him to resign York place, the archiepiscopal re- 
 sidence in Westminster. The Cardinal, not con- 
 sidering it as his property, was surprised at the 
 
 P 
 
226 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 request, and said to the judge, " Sir, I know that 
 the king possesses a royal spirit, not requiring 
 more by law than what is reasonable ; therefore I 
 advise you, and all his council, to put no more 
 into his head than may stand with his conscience. 
 The council of a king ought to respect equity more 
 than law ; for it is more honourable to do what is 
 just than what is lawful. The king, for his own 
 dignity, should mitigate the rigour of the laws ; 
 and it is for this purpose that he has appointed a 
 chancellor, with power to appease and restrain the 
 severity with which, in some cases, they might 
 operate. And now, sir, can I give away that 
 which belongs as much to those who shall succeed 
 me as to myself ? I pray you, show me whether 
 it be consistent with law or equity ?" The judge 
 was perplexed by these observations, and knew not 
 well what answer to give. " In truth," said he, 
 " there is little equity in the matter ; but the 
 king's great power is sufficient to recompense the 
 see of York with double the value of the place." 
 " That I know," replied the Cardinal, " but there 
 is no such condition in the proposal. You require 
 of me a full and entire surrender of the rights of 
 others with which I have been intrusted. If every 
 bishop were to comply with such a request, what 
 would become of the patrimony of the church ? 
 But I must submit to the king's power. I charge 
 you, however, to exonerate me from the guilt of 
 this act ; and to tell his majesty to remember that 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 227 
 
 there is both a heaven and a hell." With this an- 
 swer the judge returned to London. 
 
 IV. The declaration was received as the confes- 
 sion of his offence, and the sentence of the law was 
 pronounced. All his possessions and moveables 
 were forfeited to the crown ; but he was not, as the 
 law commands, committed to prison. The fate of 
 his colleges gave him most pain. He had indulged 
 a fond expectation that they would have been his 
 monuments with posterity, as a patron of know- 
 ledge and a benefactor to his country ; but they too 
 were confiscated. He wrote to the king humbly, 
 as on his knees, and with weeping eyes, to spare 
 the college at Oxford. No answer was returned. 
 
 V. Cromwell, who, in the House of Commons, 
 had so ably defended him, acted with such open 
 and manly intrepidity in the cause of his deserted 
 master, that he won the esteem of all parties. 
 Being on a visit of consolation to him at Ashur, he 
 one day took occasion to mention that no provi- 
 sion had been made for several of the servants who 
 had proved themselves very faithful, and had never 
 forsaken him. " Alas !" replied the Cardinal, 
 " you know that I have nothing to give them, nor 
 to reward you. v> Cromwell then proposed that the" 
 Cardinal's chaplains, who had been preferred to 
 rich benefices by his influence, should, with him- 
 self, contribute a little money for the support of 
 the domestics ; and it was agreed that, as the re- 
 turn of the king's favour was uncertain, it was ne- 
 
228 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 ccssary to reduce their number. The servants 
 were therefore summoned into the hall, at the 
 upper end of which stood Wolsey in his pontifical 
 robes, attended by the chaplains and officers of his 
 household, with whom he continued in conversa- 
 tion till the whole were assembled. Turning to ad- 
 dress them, he paused for a moment. The sight 
 of so many faithful, though humble friends, power- 
 fully touched his feelings, and for some time he 
 was unable to speak. The tears started into his 
 eyes, and the servants, perceiving his emotion, 
 gave way to their own sorrows. When he had re- 
 covered from his agitation, and silence was restored, 
 he spoke to them in the following manner: — 
 " Most faithful gentlemen and true-hearted yeo- 
 men, I lament that in my prosperity I did not so 
 much for you as I might have done, nor what was 
 then in my power. I considered, indeed, that if I 
 promoted you to the exclusion of the king's ser- 
 vants, I should have been exposed to their malice 
 and to the slander of the world. But now mv 
 power is gone. It has pleased the king to take 
 away all that I had, and I have nothing left but 
 my robe. My punishment, however, far exceeds 
 my offence ; and I trust to be soon restored to his 
 majesty's favour, when I shall remember the trea- 
 sure I possessed in you, the value of which I knew 
 not before. Whatever may then be the surplus of 
 my income, it shall be divided among you ; for I 
 will never consider the riches of this world as given 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 229 
 
 for any other end than for the maintenance of that 
 condition to which Providence calls me. Should 
 the king not soon replace me in his confidence, I 
 will recommend you to himself or to some noble- 
 man ; and I trust that the king or any nobleman 
 will yet respect my recommendation." He con- 
 cluded by advising them to repair to their fami- 
 lies ; and Cromwell and the chaplains having raised 
 a sum of money for their relief, it was immediately 
 distributed, and many of them departed to their 
 respective homes. 
 
 VI. The apprehension of retaliation often en- 
 genders in the minds of aggressors sentiments 
 which resemble the workings of revenge ; and base 
 spirits, when they have happened to injure, often 
 deliberately continue to persecute. The enemies 
 of the Cardinal combined to prevent the king from 
 ever seeing him again, and continued to mortify 
 his proud heart, in the hope that innocence, pro- 
 voked by injustice, would betray him into some im- 
 prudent expression of indignation. Henry himself 
 has indeed been suspected of sanctioning their 
 cruelty from a vicious principle of policy, in the 
 expectation that, as Wolsey disregarded popular 
 clamour, he might, for the restoration of his gran- 
 deur, not scruple to sustain even the obloquy of 
 the Roman consistory, by pronouncing the sen- 
 tence of divorce. But he ought to have known 
 his lofty character better ; and that the love of 
 fame, which renders public men incorruptible, 
 
230 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 though nearly allied to the love of power and 
 splendour, never admits rank into comparison with 
 reputation. The treatment which the 'Cardinal re- 
 ceived wounded without irritating. The eager- 
 ness with which his former associates endeavoured 
 to rise on his ruins, — the neglect of those who had 
 shared his bounty,— - the abortive assurances that 
 he had received from the king, — and the conviction 
 that, without being restored to favour, he never 
 could be able to contradict the wilful misrepresenta- 
 tion which was daily made of his purest intentions, 
 but must transmit a blemished and defaced charac- 
 ter to posterity, — corroded his feelings to such a de- 
 gree, that his life was despaired of. Henry, being 
 informed of his indisposition, inquired of one of the 
 court physicians, who had professionally visited 
 Ashur, what was the matter with the Cardinal, 
 and learning that it arose from dejection, struck 
 the table violently with his hand, exclaiming, " I 
 would rather lose twenty thousand pounds, than 
 that he should die ; make you haste, therefore, 
 with as many as are of your profession about the 
 court, and endeavour to recover him." He then 
 took from his finger a ring, charged with a ruby, 
 on which his own head was engraved, and sent a 
 gentleman with it and many kindly assurances to 
 the Cardinal ; and he ordered Ann Bullcn, who 
 happened to be present, to send also some token 
 of her regard ; and she submissively obeyed, giv- 
 ing the doctor a golden tablet from her side, which 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. ' 231 
 
 she requested him to deliver from her. Soon af- 
 ter, Wolsey was regularly pardoned, and replaced 
 in the see of York, with a pension of a thousand 
 marks per annum from the bishopric of Winches- 
 ter ; and Henry, unknown to the privy council, 
 restored to him plate and effects to the value of 
 more than six thousand pounds. These unex- 
 pected testimonies of affection essentially contri- 
 buted to his recovery ; and having been allowed 
 permission, when he resigned the palace at Hamp- 
 ton, to reside in Richmond Castle, he ventured to 
 solicit leave to remove from Ashur to the more 
 cheerful air and scenery of that mansion ; which 
 was readily granted. But his enemies, fearing that, 
 if he was permitted to reside long so near the court, 
 the king might be induced to visit or recall him, 
 recommended that, as he was not now detained by 
 the duties of the chancery, he should be sent to 
 the government of his diocese ; and he was accord- 
 ingly banished to York. 
 
 VII. Some time previous to his departure, the 
 domestics observed an interesting change in his de- 
 meanour. Like many other great men in adver- 
 sity, his mind took a superstitious turn, and seemed 
 to discover, in accidents certainly trivial, an omin- 
 ous and fatal meaning. He grew pensive, wore a 
 shirt of haircloth, and held frequent conferences 
 with a venerable old man belonging to the brother- 
 hood of the Charter-house at Richmond. 
 
 VIII. He commenced his journey toward. York 
 
232 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 about the end of Lent. His train consisted of a 
 hundred and sixty horse, and seventy-two waggons, 
 loaded with the relics of his furniture. How great 
 must have been that grandeur which, by compari- 
 son, made such wealth appear poverty ! Having 
 stopped at Peterborough to celebrate the festival 
 of Easter, on Palm-sunday he walked in the pro- 
 cession of the monks to the cathedral ; and on the 
 following Thursday kept Maunday, according to 
 the practice of the church, washing the feet of the 
 poor, and bestowing alms and blessings. From 
 Peterborough he proceeded slowly, exercising his 
 pastoral functions by the way, and halted at Stoby, 
 where he resided till Michaelmas, preaching in the 
 churches of the adjacent parishes, interposing to 
 reconcile the variance of neighbours, relieving the 
 necessitous, and performing many other exemplary 
 acts of piety and benevolence. He then went for- 
 ward to Caywood Castle, one of the residences of 
 the Archbishop of York, distant from the city 
 about twelve miles. A great conflux of people, 
 drawn together by curiosity, waited to see him ar- 
 rive, among whom were the clergy of the diocese, 
 who welcomed him with the reverence due to his 
 pontifical dignity. The castle, having been long 
 untenanted, required extensive repairs, which the 
 Cardinal immediately commenced ; for nature and 
 habit made him decisive and prompt in all circum- 
 stances. The short period of his residence in this 
 ancient mansion was, perhaps, the happiest of his 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 233 
 
 life. He appeared delighted with the composure 
 of rural affairs ; and, by the equity of his demean- 
 our, and a mild condescension, which belied the re- 
 ports of his haughtiness, he won the hearts of his 
 diocesans. He professed himself a convert from am- 
 bition ; and, having suffered the perils and terrors 
 of shipwreck, he was thankful that, at length, he 
 had cast anchor in a calm and pleasant haven, with 
 the expectation of safety and rest. 
 
 IX. As he had never been installed in the archie- 
 piscopal see, he gave orders to prepare the cathe- 
 dral for the ceremony, and a day was appointed 
 for the celebration. On this occasion the arrange- 
 ments were unusually simple, and indicated the al- 
 tered frame of his mind. As the day approached, 
 incredible quantities of provisions were sent to him 
 by the neighbouring gentry and clergy, in order 
 that he might maintain the customary hospitalities 
 in a style suitable to his character ; and, in the 
 meantime, he was flattered by several friendly mes- 
 sages from the king. The pleasure which the lat- 
 ter afforded was so obvious and lively, that it was 
 difficult to determine whether it arose from a re- 
 kindled hope of restoration, or was only the exult- 
 ing joy of finding his integrity vindicated. But 
 the triumph or the illusion was of short duration, 
 and only served to inflame the sense of disappoint- 
 ment, and to enhance the shock of a second fall. 
 
 X. The Monday after All-souls day was fixed 
 lor the installation ; but, on the preceding Friday, 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 as he was sitting at dinner, the Earl of Northum- 
 berland, who, while Lord Percy, had been edu- 
 cated in his house, and whose intended marriage 
 with Ann Bullen the Cardinal had been the means 
 of frustrating, accompanied by a privy counsellor 
 and a large retinue, arrived at the castle. He was 
 received with a paternal and a cheerful welcome, 
 and conducted by Wolsey into his own apart- 
 ments ; where they had not, however, exchanged 
 many words, when the earl became agitated, and, 
 in a low and troubled voice, declared him arrested 
 for high treason. Astonished by a charge so un- 
 expected, Wolsey, for some time, was unable to 
 speak ; but, recovering his spirits, he requested 
 Northumberland to show the warrant, protesting 
 that otherwise he would not surrender himself ; for, 
 as a member of the college of cardinals, he was ex- 
 empted from the jurisdiction of all secular princes. 
 At this moment the privy counsellor entered the 
 room. Wolsey, on seeing him, observed that, as a 
 counsellor of the king, he was sufficiently commis- 
 sioned to take him into custody, and immediately 
 intimated that he was their prisoner. " I fear 
 not,'" added he, " the cruelty of my enemies, nor 
 a scrutiny of my allegiance ; and I will take Hea- 
 ven to witness, that neither in word nor deed have 
 I injured the king, and I will maintain my inno- 
 cence face to face with any man alive.' 1 
 
 XI. When it was known in the neighbourhood 
 that he was to be conveyed to London, a great 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 235 
 
 crowd assembled round the castle ; and as he came 
 out on his mule, guarded, the people began to ex- 
 claim, " God save your grace, and foul evil over- 
 take them that have taken you from us. 1 ' With 
 these and other testimonies of popular affection, 
 he was followed to a considerable distance. Nor- 
 thumberland conducted him to Sheffield-park, and 
 delivered him to the custody of the Earl of Shrews- 
 bury, with whom he resided about a fortnight, un- 
 til the king^s further pleasure was known. Shrews- 
 bury entertained him with the respect that became 
 his own honour, and assured him, that though the 
 king could not satisfy the council without sending 
 him to trial, still he believed him guiltless, and that 
 his enemies dreaded his restoration to favour more 
 than he ought to do their malice. But the Cardi- 
 nal could no longer be cheered. He considered 
 his destruction as irrevocably fixed, and resigned 
 himself to the comfortless thoughts which that 
 gloomy notion inspired. His constitution, impair- 
 ed by age and the vicissitudes of hope and fear, 
 suddenly gave way. One day, at dinner, he com- 
 plained of a coldness in his stomach, and was soon 
 after seized with a violent flux, which greatly drain- 
 ed his strength. In this situation he was found by 
 Sir William Kingston, constable of the Tower, 
 who, with twenty yeomen of the guards that had 
 formerly been in his own service, came to convey 
 him to London. In the whole of his treatment, 
 from the moment of his arrest, a great degree of 
 
236 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 respect and consideration was shown to him, and 
 it appears to have been at the special command of 
 Henry. Sir William, on being taken to his pre- 
 sence, knelt down, and assured him, in the king's 
 name, of his majesty's unbroken friendship ; add- 
 ing, that it was not necessary for him to make 
 more haste in the journey than suited his health 
 and convenience. The Cardinal, however, thought 
 that delay might be regarded as evidence of 
 conscious guilt, and, declining the indulgence, 
 anxiously proceeded forward. Although he tra- 
 velled slowly, his illness was increased by fatigue, 
 and he grew weak and feverish. On the evening 
 of the third day after leaving Sheffield-park, he 
 approached Leicester. The appearance of nature 
 accorded with the condition of the prisoner. The 
 end of the year was drawing nigh, and the Cardi- 
 nal beheld for the last time the falling leaf and the 
 setting sun. 
 
 XII. When the cavalcade reached the monas- 
 tery, the day was shut in ; and the abbot and the 
 friars, apprized of his coming, waited with torches 
 at the gate to receive him. But the honours of 
 this world had ceased to afford him pleasure, and 
 as he passed towards the bottom of the stairs, he 
 said to the brotherhood, " I am come to lay my 
 bones among you. 11 Being supported into a cham- 
 ber, lie immediately went to bed, and languished, 
 with increasing signs of dissolution, all the next 
 day. The following morning. Cavendish, his 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEV. 237 
 
 usher, and afterwards historian, as he was watch- 
 ing near him, thought that he perceived the symp- 
 toms of death. The Cardinal, noticing him, in- 
 quired the hour, and was told eight o'clock ; 
 " that cannot be, 1 ' he replied, " for at eight 
 o'clock you shall lose your master. My time is 
 at hand, and I must depart this world." His con- 
 fessor, who was standing near, requested Caven- 
 dish to inquire if he would be confessed. " What 
 have you to do with that P" answered he angrily ; 
 but was pacified by the interference of the confess- 
 or. Continuing to grow weaker and weaker, he 
 frequently fainted during the course of the day. 
 About four o'clock of the following morning he 
 asked some refreshment ; which having received, 
 and made confession, Sir William Kingston enter- 
 ed his room, and inquired how he felt himself. 
 " Sir," said Wolscy, " I tarry but the pleasure 
 of God, to render up my poor soul into his hands ;" 
 and, after a few other words between them, he re- 
 sumed, " I have now been eight days together 
 troubled with a continual flux and fever, a species 
 of disease which, if it do not remit its violence 
 within that period, never fails to terminate in death. 
 I pray you commend me humbly to the king ; and 
 beseech him, in my behalf, to call to his princely 
 remembrance all matters that have passed between 
 him and me, particularly in what respects the busi- 
 ness of the queen, and then he must know wheth- 
 er I have given him any offence. He is a prince 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 of a most royal nature ; but rather than want any 
 part of his pleasure, he will endanger the half of 
 his kingdom. Often have I knelt before him for 
 three hours together, endeavouring to persuade 
 him from his will and appetite, and could not pre- 
 vail. Had I served God as diligently as I have 
 done the king he would not have given me over 
 in my grey hairs." He then continued for a short 
 time to give Sir William some advice, in case he 
 should ever be called to the privy council, and, 
 adding a few general observations on the revolu- 
 tionary temper of the times, concluded by saying, 
 " Farewell, I wish all good things to have success. 
 My time draws fast on. I may not tarry with you. 
 Forget not what I have said ; and when I am 
 gone, call it often to mind. 1 ' Towards the conclu- 
 sion he began to falter, and linger in the articula- 
 tion of his words. At the end, his eyes became 
 motionless and his sight failed. The abbot was 
 summoned to administer the extreme unction, and 
 the yeomen of the guard were called in to see him 
 die. As the clock struck eight he expired. 
 
 XIII. The body, with the face uncovered, be- 
 ing laid out in pontifical robes, the magistrates and 
 inhabitants of Leicester were admitted to see it, in 
 order that they might certify the death. In the 
 evening it was removed into the church ; but the 
 funeral service was protracted by unusual dirges 
 and orisons, and it was past midnight before the 
 interment took place. Such v>as the end of this 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 239 
 
 proud and famous cardinal. The king, when in- 
 formed of his death, was touched with sincere sor- 
 row ; and, as if it could in any way atone for his 
 own conduct, he seemed anxious to reward all those 
 who had shown any kindness to his old favourite. 
 On Cromwell he bestowed no inconsiderable por- 
 tion of the power which his master had enjoyed ; 
 and Cavendish, whose prudence and fidelity had 
 remained unshaken by the ruin which he had wit- 
 nessed and shared, was promoted to wealth and si- 
 tuations which enabled him to become the founder 
 of the princely dukedom of Devonshire. Henry, 
 indeed, never ceased to regret the Cardinal ; and 
 often, in the perplexities which afterwards troubled 
 his reign, lamented the loss of Wolsey, always pro- 
 nouncing his name with an epithet of respect. 
 
 XIV. If it be true, that no man by less effort 
 ever attained so much dignity as Cardinal Wolsey, 
 few have been thrown down from so great a height 
 under the imputation of smaller crimes. He was 
 undoubtedly a character of the most splendid class. 
 Haughty, ambitious, masterly, and magnificent, 
 he felt himself formed for superiority ; and his 
 conduct, if not always judicious, was uniformly 
 great. His exterior was dignified, his demeanour 
 courtly, his discernment rapid, his eloquence com- 
 manding, and his comprehension vast and pros- 
 pective. The number, variety, and magnitude of 
 his public trusts, in all of which he was eminently 
 distinguished, are proofs of the elastic powers of 
 
240 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 his mind, and the versatility of his talents for busi- 
 ness. His avidity to amass wealth was contrast- 
 ed with an expenditure so generous, that it lost the 
 name of avarice, and deserved to be dignified with 
 that of ambition. His ostentation was so richly 
 blended with munificence and hospitality, that it 
 ought to be ascribed rather to the love of distinc- 
 tion than to vanity ; and his pride was so nearly 
 allied to the sense of honour and justice, that it 
 seemed to be essential to his accomplishments as a 
 statesman. All his undertakings showed the com- 
 bining and foreseeing faculties of his genius. His 
 plan for the reformation of the clergy was singu- 
 larly liberal; and to circumstances which arose 
 during his administration, many of the most im- 
 portant changes in the moral state of modern Eu- 
 rope may be clearly traced. The league of Lon- 
 don may be called the great charter of Christen- 
 dom, for it established the independence of the 
 different nations, and restricted the domination of 
 the pope to affairs purely ecclesiastical. It is by 
 these two great systematic measures, the one do- 
 mestic, and the other foreign, that the merits of 
 his administration should be estimated, for the 
 whole tenor of his internal policy seems to have 
 borne particularly against the wealth and preroga- 
 tives of the priesthood, while the object of his ne- 
 gotiations with foreign states was no less calculated 
 to define alike the duties of sovereigns and sub- 
 jects, lie seems to have regarded the Eu r o p e a n 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 241 
 
 nations as so many distinct members of the same 
 body, and that the authority of the pope was not 
 exactly the kind which should predominate. It 
 must be considered as no slight proof of his en- 
 larged and enlightened views, that in the recent re- 
 edification of the Christian community of nations, 
 the principles have been revived upon which he 
 framed the league of London ; for the treaty of 
 Paris of 1815 closely resembles, in its elemental 
 basis, the ground and spirit of that ancient and 
 noble compact. It is this anticipation of the fu- 
 ture, or, more properly speaking, this perception 
 of things applicable to the universal nature of in- 
 terests, at once social and separate, that makes all 
 the difference between a minister and a statesman. 
 The two great measures of Cardinal Wolsey, on 
 account both of their immediate efFect, and of the 
 consequences which continue to flow from them, 
 can never be classed with the temporary expedi- 
 ents which constitute the ordinary business of po- 
 liticians, but are entitled to be ranked with those 
 codes of law which everlastingly affect the habits 
 and characters of mankind. To allege that he was 
 aware of their interminable importance, would be 
 as improper as to withhold from him the admira- 
 tion due to great natural ability, or to deny that 
 he employed the gifts of fortune with glory to him- 
 self and advantage to his country. The invidi- 
 ous, who delight to contemplate the little blemishes 
 of the most illustrious characters, will see in the 
 
 9 
 
CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 errors of Cardinal Wolsey much to condemn ; but 
 minds of more generous feeling will consider his 
 vices as obsolete topics ; for, in the opinion of 
 such, the merits and the virtues of the great are 
 all that should attract the attention of posterity. 
 And they will not refuse to allow that, whether 
 estimated by his talents, accomplishments, fortune, 
 or designs, this famous Cardinal was one of those 
 extraordinary personages who only arise in times 
 of change and commotion, surprising the world by 
 the splendour of their actions ; and who, having 
 agitated and altered the frame of society by their 
 influence, are commemorated as the epochal charac- 
 ters of history. 
 

 NOTES. 
 
NOTES TO BOOK FIRST, 
 
 1. To profess the sentiments whieh it had anciently inspired 
 was not indeed ridiculous. Sect. v. page 4. 
 
 Cervantes was not born till the year 15t7, nor Don Quix- 
 ote published in Spain till 1005. 
 
 2. Xothing less was expected from it than a know- 
 ledge if future events, and the power of conferring inexhaus' 
 tilde wealth and immortality. Sect. vi. page 5. 
 
 Astrology has long, by the absurd pretensions of its pro- 
 fessors, been so effectually consigned to oblivious contempt, 
 that the books which treat of its principles are rarely to be 
 found even in libraries of curious literature, and are never 
 inquired for without provoking a sort of compassionate ridi- 
 cule not easily withstood. And yet the study itself, as pro- 
 fessing to discover, by celestial phenomena, future mutations 
 in terrestrial bodies,* ought not to be despised. The theory 
 of the tides is altogether an astrological doctrine, and long 
 before the days of Sir Isaac Xewton was as well understood 
 as it is at this moment. The correspondence which the 
 ancient physicians alleged to exist between the positions of 
 the moon and the stages of various diseases, has certainly 
 received a degree of confirmation, auspicious to a modified 
 revival of the doctrine of celestial influences, t It is not a 
 just philosophy which rejects as vain what appears to be 
 
 * Sir Christopher Ilcytlon's Defence of Astrology, p. 2. eel. L0O3. 
 f Dr Mead's Treatise concerning the Influence of the Sun and 
 3Ioon upon Human Bodies, &C 
 
246 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 improbable. Though many things of which the astrologers 
 speak be apparently fanciful, they are not the less worthy 
 of being exaimned. They have asserted, that the fits of a 
 particular kind of madness are governed by the moon; that 
 her rays quicken the putrefaction of animals ;" that persons 
 are rendered dull and drowsy who sleep abroad in the moon- 
 light ; that vegetables sown in the spring of the moon dif- 
 fer in flavour from the same kind sown in her wane ; that 
 vines pruned during her conjunction with the sun shoot 
 forth a less rank foliage afterwards ; and that timber felled 
 at the same time endures longest uncorrupted.t They have 
 also alleged, that oysters, crabs, and all testacious fish, grow 
 fat and full with the waxing of the moon, and dwindle 
 with her waning ; that she has an influence on the procre- 
 ation of mares and horses ; and that children born at the 
 time of new moon are always short-lived. Any man pos- 
 sessing patience and inclination might so easily ascertain 
 the fact of these things, that it is surprising they should be 
 still pronounced incredible, and denied rather than contra- 
 dicted : 
 
 " Yet safe the world and free from change doth last ; 
 
 No years increase it, and no years can waste. 
 
 Its course it urges on, and keeps its frame, 
 
 And still will be, because 'twas still the same. 
 
 It stands secure from Time's devouring rage, 
 
 For 'tis a God, nor can it change with age." 
 
 And therefore, say the astrologers, a correspondence and 
 coincidence must exist throughout the universal pheno- 
 mena ; as in the machinery of a clock, in which the state of 
 one part indicates what has passed, or is to happen in 
 another. 
 
 The principles of astrology, like those of every other 
 
 Hcydon. p. L2fi f Ibid. p. ltW. 
 
NOTES. 247 
 
 science, must have been founded on some species of experi- 
 ence. The first occurrences that probably attracted obser- 
 vation, would be those that naturally had some apparent 
 concordance with the great luminaries and planets, such as 
 the seasons of the year, &c The tides, varying with the 
 phases of the moon, would early obtain attention : . their re- 
 gular increase, corresponding to her opposition and conjunc- 
 tion, would lead to the consideration of the solar influence. 
 Thence, perhaps, it was observed, that when certain planets 
 were in particular constellations, and the sun in certain 
 signs of the zodiac, the tides were otherwise affected. Hence 
 the qualities of the planetary influence came to be studied. 
 
 A transition from the tides to the variations of the atmos- 
 phere, if they did not at first attract notice, was very natu- 
 ral ; and as valetudinarians are particularly affected by the 
 weather, the progress towards that branch of astrology which 
 relates to diseases would be the consequence. 
 
 If the diseases of man be regulated by the stars, why not 
 his passions also ? And as his passions govern his actions, 
 making one class of motives more acceptable than another, 
 why not by the means of his passions regulate his fortune ? 
 Fortune is but another name for situation, and men are evi- 
 dently allured into their various circumstances or situations 
 by their passions. The next inquiry would naturally there- 
 fore be, to ascertain from what particular aspects of the 
 skies the varieties of fate and character proceed. Hence the 
 theory of nativities, and that branch of the study which has 
 brought the whole into such disrepute. Ptolemy had vainly 
 warned his followers not to foretell particularly, but gene- 
 rally, as one thatseeth a thing afar off; but not content with 
 telling particularly, they alleged, in the very face of their 
 fundamental position, that man possessed a power of alter- 
 ing his destiny, by affirming that his will was free, and that 
 he had the power of choice and election, forgetting that the 
 foreknowledge of an apprehended future evil generated a 
 
I 
 
 248 NOTES. 
 
 motive which might lead to the adoption of the conduct by 
 which it was avoided. 
 
 The notion of the unalterability of the world, as the athe- 
 istical astrologers entertained it, is at once curious and ab- 
 surd, and warranted inferences which they would not per- 
 haps have readily admitted Proceeding upon the supposi- 
 tion that there does exist such a concordance in the universe 
 as they maintained, it is obvious, from the motions of the 
 earth, and of the system to which she belongs, that no two 
 astrological observations could be found in the course of 
 many ages precisely similar ; a general resemblance of effect 
 is the utmost that could be obtained, until, in the progress 
 of the various movements of the whole universe, the earth, 
 in all respects, came again to the situation which she held, 
 in relation to every other part, when the first observation 
 was made. When she has done this, it must be allowed 
 from the premises, that a new series of effects will com- 
 mence in every thing resembling the past. History having 
 finished her tale, will begin to repeat it ; and persons and 
 events under the same names, and in the same forms as 
 those of whom we have heard, will appear ; yea even for- 
 tune-tellers, as foolish as those who have rendered astrology 
 ridiculous, will again come ; and an essay, in no single 
 phrase, point, or circumstance different from this, will, after 
 the lapse of innumerable ages, be perused by such another 
 being as thee, O courteous reader ! 
 
 The professors of alchymy have written the records of 
 their processes in a language of types and symbols as in- 
 scrutable as that of the priests of Anubis. Whether they 
 did or did not possess the art of making gold may be fairly 
 questioned, until the knowledge of their secrets is complete, 
 and their experiments have been renewed ; but that no na- 
 tural impediment exists to the attainment of the art, Mr 
 Davy has gone far to Bhow. From the reported testimony 
 of one of themselves, it would appear that the hope of mak- 
 
NOTES. 249 
 
 ing an immortalizing elixir was not seriously entertained by 
 the alchymists. The utmost which they professed to make 
 was a cordial which should refresh and preserve the animal 
 spirits, when the frame was not vitally impaired. Possibly 
 extricated from the cabalistic technical jargon which they 
 used, their studies may have been both rational and ingeni- 
 ous ; at least an opinion of them ought not to be formed 
 from the ridicule which ignorant pretenders so justly pro- 
 voked. John Frederick Helvetius, doctor and practitioner 
 of medicine at the Hague in the year 1666, gives a curious 
 account of a conversation which he had with an alchymist 
 on the subject of the stone and the elixir, and which he in- 
 troduces with a description of the alchymist's person, that, 
 even in the bad translation before me, has the merit of being 
 remarkably vivid and natural. 
 
 The doctor inquired whether, by the use of that elixir 
 which Elias affirmed was known to the alchymists, the pris- 
 tine nature of man may be converted into a new one, the 
 sad into cheerful? " Not at all, sir," said the artist, " for 
 so great power was never conferred on any medicament that 
 it could change the nature of man. Wine inebriating, taken 
 by diverse individual men, in him who is drunk changeth 
 not his nature, but only provokes, and deduceth into act 
 what is naturally and potentially in him, but before was, as 
 it were, dead. Even so is the operation of the universal me- 
 dicine, which, by recreation of the vital spirits, excites sa- 
 nity, for a time only suppressed, because it was naturally in 
 him before ; even as the heat of the sun changeth not herbs 
 or flowers, but only provokes the same, and from the proper 
 potential nature of them, deduceth them into act only : for 
 a man of a melancholy temper is again raised to exercise his 
 own melancholy matters ; and the jovial man, who was plea- 
 sant, is recreated in all his cheerful actions ; and so, conse- 
 quently, in all desperate diseases, it is a present or most ex- 
 cellent preservative." Soon after, he adds, « But if any 
 
250 NOTES. 
 
 prolongation of life by some philosophic medicament could 
 have been adduced against the predestination of the omni- 
 potent God, undoubtedly neither Hermes, Trismegistus, or 
 Paracelsus, or Raymund Lully,* or Count Bernhard, and 
 many more like illustrious possessors of this great mystery, 
 would not have yielded to the common death of all mortals, 
 but, perhaps, have protracted their life until this very day. 
 Therefore it would be the part of a fanatic and foolish man 
 to affirm this, yea of a most foolish man to believe and as- 
 sent to the same, touching any one medicament in the things 
 of nature." 
 
 Presently the conversation changed to the transmutation 
 of metals ; and Helvetius affirms that Elias gave him a speci- 
 men of the philosophers' stone, with which he performed a 
 successful experiment. Helvetius himself does not appear 
 to have been an alchymist ; he was unacquainted with the 
 subjects of which Elias spoke, and had written a book 
 against Sir Kenelm Digby, who professed to make a sympa- 
 thetic powder which could cure wounds at a distance. In 
 refuting the pretensions of Sir Kenelm, he had made use of 
 some expressions relative to the pursuits of alchymy, which 
 induced Elias to call on him. — Golden Calf, pp. 99, 100, ed. 
 1670. A good name for such a book ! 
 
 The Rosicrucians were a particular order of alchymists, 
 and professed to be able to transmute the metals. The 
 names of secret substances employed in the process were 
 communicated to the members at their admission into the 
 society, or rather the meaning of the symbolical language 
 by which the materials were described was explained to 
 them, and it was the use of that language which gave rise 
 to the opinion, that the Rosicrucians held particular notions 
 relative to spirits. They were, in fact, a society of experi- 
 
 * Raymund Lully is said to have taught Edward III. the art of 
 making gold. — Sinclair, Hitt. Revenue, p. 75, cd. 1785. 
 
NOTES. 251 
 
 mental philosophers, and used, according to the fashion of 
 the age in which the society was founded, a cabalistic mode 
 of expression, in order to enhance the merits of their know- 
 ledge. This society is still supposed to have some sort of an 
 existence ; but whether its members believe they possess the 
 key to the symbolical language, and are able to convert com- 
 mon into precious metals, is not easy to be ascertained. I 
 have met with a gentleman who said he was a Rosicrucian. 
 There is a dictionary, in French, which says, that Ovid's 
 Metamorphoses describe alchymical processes. I have not 
 been able to meet with it. 
 
 3. This great achievement roused throughout Christendom 
 a similar spirit. Sect. vii. page 6. 
 
 Henry VIII. was the first English king who established a 
 navy. Ships, before his time, were hired from the mer- 
 chants. The Trinity-house was instituted in 1512. 
 
 4. Thomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich, in the month of 
 March, 1471. Sect. ix. page 7. 
 
 Parish registers were not instituted in England till 1535. 
 
 5. His father, though of mean condition, possessed some 
 property Sect. ix. page 7. 
 
 It does not appear to be well authenticated that he was a 
 butcher. See his will in Fiddes' Coll. No 1. 
 
 C. Few so young, with all the advantages of rank and af- 
 fluence, attained, in that age, academical honours. Sect. ix. 
 page 7. 
 
 Cardinal Pole, at the same age, was also made a B. A. 
 His high birth, as well as his great talents, might have had 
 some effect in procuring this distinction. 
 
 7. He was also appointed master of the school. Sect. ix. 
 page 7. 
 
 Storer, who published his biographical poem of Wolsey in 
 1599, describes his feelings, in this situation, in a lively and 
 tasteful manner : — 
 
252 NOTES. 
 
 u This silver tongue, methought, was never made 
 With rhetoric's skill to teach each common swain. 
 
 These deep conceits were never taught to wade 
 In shallow brooks ; nor this aspiring vein 
 Fit to converse among the shepherd train : 
 
 I could not girt me, like a worthless groom, 
 
 In coarser garment, wove of country loom. 
 
 " Just cause I saw my titles to advance, 
 Virtue my gentry, priesthood my descent, 
 
 Saints my allies, the cross my cognizance, 
 
 Angels the guard that watched about my tent, 
 Wisdom that ushered me where'er I went. 
 
 These are our honours, though the world withstand ; 
 
 Our lands and wealth are in another land. 
 
 " Yet, as through Tagus' fair, transparent streams, 
 The wondering merchant sees the sandy gold ; 
 
 Or, like to Cynthia's half- obscured beams 
 In silent night, the pilot doth behold 
 Through misty clouds and vapours manifold ; 
 
 So, through a mirror of my hope for gain, 
 
 I saw the treasure which I should obtain." 
 
 8. Fur which one of the justices of the peace subjected him 
 
 to disgraceful punishment. Sect. xi. page 8. 
 
 Fiddes mentions that he was put in the stocks ; but Ca- 
 vendish says, only that Sir Amias Paulet laid him by the 
 heels. Fiddes may have been misled by a marginal note of 
 Stowe. 
 
 I find that I have made another memorandum, after read- 
 ing the MS. copy of Cavendish, in the Harleian library. 
 t* Mem. — Wolsey mentioned himself, when at Lymington, 
 in order to be installed, that lie was called the boy bachelor. 
 Sir Amias Paulet took an occasion of displeasure against 
 
NOTES. - 25 l J 
 
 him ; upon what grounds I know not," says Cavendish, 
 " but he was so bold as to set Wolsey by the feet during his 
 pleasure." 
 
 9. Commanded him to he in readiness for the embassy. 
 Sect. xii. page 10. 
 
 The business on which Wolsey was sent probably referred 
 to the treaty recorded in Rymer's Foedera, vol. xiii. p. 127, 
 It is dated loth May, 150G. 
 
 10. For which he solicited his Majesty's pardon. Sect. 
 
 xiii. page 11. 
 
 Storer makes the Cardinal describe his mission very pret- 
 tily : — 
 
 u The Argonautic vessel never past 
 
 With swifter course along the Colchian main, 
 Than my small bark, with fair and steady blast, 
 Convey 'd me forth, and reconvey'd again." 
 
 11. He selected for ministers those counsellors of his 
 
 father who were the most respected for their caution and, wis- 
 dom. Sect. xv. page 12. 
 
 Lord Herbert remarks, that there was no lawyer in this 
 administration. 
 
 12 Xo schism had yet, §c. Sect. xvii. page 14. 
 
 Vide, concerning the subjects in question, Guicciardini, 
 Fiddcs, and Burnet. 
 
 Henry VIII. was the first king of England who had any 
 correspondence with the Swiss. 
 
 13. This singular encounter received the appropriate appel* 
 lut ion of the Buttle <f the Spurt* Sect. xxii. page If). 
 
 Father Daniel, in his account of this battle, gives an inte- 
 resting and characteristic anecdote of Bayard The cheva- 
 lier, with only fifteen men at arms, fighting as he retreated, 
 gained a bridge, over which only two troopers could pass 
 abreast. On this post, he repulsed a detachment of the impe- 
 rial cavalry; but a party of English archerf getting to lii< 
 rear, lie told his soldiers that it was propel ihcy should mii- 
 
254 NOTES. 
 
 render, to avoid the destructive effects of the arrows. While 
 waiting for this purpose till the enemy could come up, ob- 
 serving, at a short distance, a man at arms of the combined 
 forces, resting fatigued at the foot of a tree, with his helmet 
 on the ground, he instantly rode to him. " Surrender, ca- 
 valier," cried Bayard, " or you are a dead man." The asto- 
 nished gentleman at once resigned his sword. u I am Cap- 
 tain Bayard," added the chevalier, " and I now surrender 
 myself your prisoner. Take my sword ; but on condition 
 that it shall be restored, if, in going to your camp, I shall 
 happen to be insulted." Bayard, after staying in the camp 
 several days, grew anxious for new enterprises, and requested 
 the man at arms to procure him liberty to return to the 
 French camp. " Where is your ransom, chevalier ?*' an- 
 swered the man at arms. " And where is yours?'' replied 
 Bayard, " for you are my prisoner." The controversy that 
 ensued was referred to the kings at arms, but they had no 
 law for such an extraordinary case : appeal was therefore 
 made to Henry and Maximilian, who decided in favour of 
 Bayard, and he was permitted to return into France. 
 
 N. B. It may be inferred, from this occurrence, that, in 
 those days, prisoners, on account of their ransoms, were still 
 considered as belonging to the soldiers who took them. I 
 was not aware that the practice had continued so late. I 
 have alluded to this transaction in my Travels. 
 
 11-. Witli a jirovisionarj/ declaration of war, if satis- 
 faction should be refused. Sect, xxiii. page 20. 
 
 Pinkerton, whose researches have illustrated the transac- 
 tions between the courts of England and Scotland, during 
 the reigns of James IV. and his son, more fully than any of 
 the historians who have written of that period, gires an ac- 
 count to the following effects of the origin of this war. Let- 
 ters of reprisal had been granted to Andrew, Robert, and 
 John Barton, sons of John Barton, who, in the year 1476, 
 commanded a rich merchant ship, which a Portuguese 
 
NOTES. %55 
 
 squadron captured, and for the loss of which the sufferers 
 could not otherwise obtain indemnity. Although the lapse 
 of thirty years might have abated the sense of injury, the 
 Bartons were active in revenging their domestic misfortunes. 
 Emanuel, king of Portugal, remonstrated against their de- 
 predations on his subjects, and offered a judicial examina- 
 tion of their claims ; but as he neglected a message, which, 
 four years before, James had sent to conciliate the dispute, 
 and to restore the ancient amity of the two nations, his remon- 
 strance and offer were equally disregarded, and the Bartons 
 repaid the loss sustained by their father, from the spoil of the 
 Portuguese trade, which, in consequence of the discovery of 
 the maritime route to India, by Gama, was then the richest 
 in the world. Andrew Barton, with two vessels, the Lion, 
 a large ship of war, and the Jenny Pirwen, an armed sloop, 
 traversed the narrow seas, to the annoyance of the English 
 vessels, which he molested, upon pretence of searching for 
 Portuguese goods. The English merchants complained of 
 this grievance ; and, in consequence, Lord Thomas Howard, 
 and Sir Edward Howard, sons of the Earl of Surrey, were 
 sent, with two ships, in pursuit of Barton, whom they met 
 in the Downs. After an obstinate conflict, the Scottish 
 commander fell, and the Howards were victorious. James, 
 exceedingly vexed by the event, and the loss of so gallant an 
 officer, despatched a herald to the English court, to claim re- 
 paration ; but Henry only answered, that the fate of pirates 
 should never occasion disputes among princes. 
 
 A more minute cause of enmity arose from another pri- 
 vate feud. Sir Robert Ker, cup-bearer to James, and also 
 warden of the middle march, having been severe in the ad- 
 ministration of the latter office, was slain by Heron, Lil- 
 burn, and Starked, three turbulent English borderers. 
 Henry VII., in whose reign this outrage was perpetrated, 
 gave up Lilbum. Starked and Heron escaped ; but Heron 
 of Ford, brother to the murderer, was given no as a pi-. 
 
256 NOTES. 
 
 for the surrender of the latter, and was imprisoned in Fast- 
 calle, with Lilburn, who died there. Soon after the acces- 
 sion of Henry VIII., Starked and Heron re-appeared, as if 
 conscious that they should be protected. Andrew Ker, son 
 of Sir Robert, acquainted with this fact, sent two of his 
 servants to punish the assassins of his father, and they re- 
 turned with Starked's head, which Ker exposed with im- 
 punity in one of the most public places in Edinburgh. 
 
 Pinkerton also mentions a domestic provocation which 
 Henry had given to the family of Scotland, by evading the 
 delivery of a legacy of valuable jewels, bequeathed to the 
 queen by her father. The character of Margaret was not 
 unlike her brother's, bold and fiery. In one of her letters 
 to him, she upbraids him for his pitiful conduct concerning 
 the legacy, and desires no more may be said of it, as her 
 husband grew every day more and more kind to her, and 
 would pay the value of the legacy himself. " We are 
 ashamed," she adds, " therewith, and would God never 
 word had been thereof: it is not worth such estimation as 
 is in your diverse letters of the same." 
 
 The grand source of the war must still however be looked 
 for in the principles which had, for many ages, induced the 
 government of Scotland to prefer the policies of France to 
 those of England. For, on the 10th July, 1512, James ra- 
 tified a league, previously arranged, by which he, in fact, 
 united himself to Louis, although more than another year 
 after was consumed in fruitless and insincere negotiation. 
 
 15. Battle of Flodden — an event which the Scottish 
 
 nation hare never eeased to deplore in the finest strains of their 
 fwetrif and music* Sect, xxiii. page S3. 
 
 The following ballad on this subject has never before been 
 published : — 
 
 Till; WEARY NIOHT or PLODDSM FIGHT. 
 
 The clouds, like Hakes of living flame, 
 Float round the setting ran : 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The warder winds his buglehorn, 
 To tend the evening gun. 
 
 The windows to the western sheen, 
 
 As with triumphal light, 
 Are blazing all, " And comes none yet 
 
 With tidings from the fight ?" 
 
 Queen Margaret, from the castle tower, 
 
 With anxious accent cries ; 
 The warder, as he walks the wall, 
 
 " None yet," full sad replies. 
 
 The town is out, the streets are still, 
 As the lown o' Sunday's rest ; 
 
 The gutchard loads the gilly's arm, 
 The bairn the mother's breast. 
 
 But whar's the gallants of the town, 
 
 That maidens stray forlorn ? 
 They're all at Flodden with the king, 
 
 O when will they return ? 
 
 They come, they come : Lord Huntly now 
 Rides foremost from the field ; 
 
 No foe has crush'd his plume of pride, 
 Nor hack'd his painted shield. 
 
 But why so soon, and all so trim, 
 Hath Huntly homeward sped ? 
 
 His clan in sullen silence pass, — 
 " O recreants, have ye fled?" 
 
 257 
 
 And now, all in the nightly gloom, 
 The castle shines afar, 
 
258 NOTES. 
 
 Bright as Orion's giant form, 
 Thick gemm'd with many a star. 
 
 In heaven's high floor, the stellar chinks, 
 
 Whence peers celestial light, 
 And saints look down on mortal men, 
 
 Are open all and bright. 
 
 A horse ! a horse ! a herald comes, — 
 
 A herald from the king ! 
 What ho ! what ho ! how fares the fight ? 
 
 What tidings does he bring ? 
 
 Ah ! sure such silent cheerless haste 
 
 Denotes no gladsome tale ; 
 Fond maids all piteous weeping cry, 
 
 And boding matrons wail. 
 
 And see the scud of angels' spears 
 
 Streams up the northern sky ; 
 They war with fiends to save the souls 
 
 Of who unhousel'd die. 
 
 The abbot of old Paisley said, 
 
 Full wily as he stood, 
 With th' provost on the castle-hill, 
 
 And thanes by eild subdued, 
 
 " What shrieks are these, what shrieks of woe, 
 Why climbs the crowd the hill?" 
 
 " O rest, my heart," queen Margaret cries, 
 " My faltering heart, lie still." 
 
 Full well I ween the warden then, 
 Regardless of her call. 
 
 
NOTES. 259 
 
 Cries, as a horseman shoots the gate, 
 " Let the pontlevice fall." 
 
 The crowd throngs on, with wringing hands, 
 
 To learn the news implore : 
 <c The king is slain, and all is lost, 
 
 And Scotland is no more." 
 
 Alack, alack ! in rapturous grief, 
 
 The matrons clap their hands, 
 And every fond and faithful maid 
 
 In dumb dejection stands. 
 
 Along the walls, from keep and tower, 
 
 Wild hurried torches flare ; 
 The distant hills have heard the news, 
 
 And all their beacons glare. 
 
 As fraught with weltering weed and wreck, 
 
 Through Flamburgh's fatal caves, 
 Their foam-crests eddying in the winds, 
 
 Resound the ocean waves : 
 
 As drives the scatter'd storm beneath 
 
 The painted arch of heaven, 
 So rush the remnants of the field, 
 
 With banners few and riven. 
 
 With ring of mail, and tramp of hoof, 
 
 They thunder through the bow ; 
 But heartless vassals they are all, 
 
 For all their chiefs lie low. 
 
 And now the provost, while he weeps, 
 Plucks up a manly heart, 
 S 
 
260 NOTES. 
 
 And bids the woeful wailing throng 
 Forthwith to home depart. 
 
 With saintly love, and cheering prayers, 
 
 Soft mingled for relief, 
 Good priests and lords, from Flodden spared, 
 
 Would sooth Queen Margaret's grief. 
 
 " King Harry is my brother dear, 
 
 Though fiery fierce he be, 
 He has a ruth and royal soul, 
 
 And will prove kind to me." 
 
 " And should he not ?" cried Angus' heir ; 
 
 " The Douglas still is true, 
 With pith enough in Scotland left 
 
 Still to make Southrons rue." 
 
 The brightest gem in Margaret's crown 
 
 Lord Douglas would despise, 
 Compared with the repaying tears 
 
 That beam'd in her fair eyes. 
 
 So pass'd the night in Edinburgh town, 
 
 When Flodden field was lost ; 
 And all the gallant chivalry 
 
 Of Scotland's crown was crost. 
 
 16. James had died under sentence of excommunica- 
 tion. Sect. xxiv. page 23. 
 
 The treaty, by the violation of which James was excom- 
 municated, is signed by Andro of Murray. Rymer's Fcedc- 
 ra, vol. xiii. p. 261. It was ratified by James himself, at 
 Edinbuvgh, on the 28th November, 1509. Same vol. p. 
 268. 
 
NOTES. 261 
 
 17. The news of the victory was communicated to Henry 
 by the Earl of Surrey, and to Wolsey by Queen Katherine. 
 Sect. xxiv. page 23. 
 
 In looking over a book of old papers in the British Mu- 
 seum, I found the following memorandum written on the 
 back of the return of a muster-roll of an officer in the camp 
 of Terouenne. It was probably made when the news of the 
 victory arrived. 
 
 " The kinge of Scotts was fownd, slayn, by my Lord Da- 
 kers in the fronte of his batayll, and also the Lord Maxwell 
 and his brother the Lord Harrycs, Erie Crauford, who is 
 knowen, and the kynge of Scotts body is closed in lede and 
 be kept till the kynges pleasure is knowen in Barwicke, and 
 were slayn XI or XII M Scotts beside them that were slayn 
 in the chase, and III bishops, and of Englishmen but III C 
 p'sonys slayn." 
 
 18. He had been scarcely invested with this new honour. 
 Sect, xxviii. page 25. 
 
 He was consecrated on the 2Gth of March, 1514. 
 
 J 9. In the meantime, Pope Julius II. Sect. xxix. page 25. 
 
 It is somewhat extraordinary, that a work so generally read 
 as Hume's History of England should pass through several 
 editions for the last twenty years, with the omission of the 
 character of Pope Julius II. The passage alluded to may be 
 found in the early editions of Hume's England in the reign 
 of Henry VIII. about the year 1510, and on the subject of 
 the league of Cambray. It exhibits one of those sketches of 
 character for which Hume is justly celebrated, and in his 
 best manner. The style is vigorous, the colouring impres- 
 sive, and the whole piece indicates the hand of a master. It 
 is as follows : — 
 
 " Alexander the Sixth was dead ; a man of a singular 
 character, and, excepting his son, Ciesar Borgia, almost the 
 only man we read of in history who has joined great capa- 
 city with the blackest vices and the most abandoned profli- 
 gacy of manners. After a short interval, Julius the Second 
 
262 NOTES. 
 
 had succeeded to the papal throne, who, though endowed with 
 many virtues, gave almost as much scandal to the world as his 
 detested predecessor ; his virtues were deemed unsuitable to 
 his station of sovereign pontiff, the spiritual judge, .and com- 
 mon father of Christians. Actuated by an unextinguishable 
 thirst of glory, inflexible in his schemes, undaunted in his 
 enterprises, indefatigable in his pursuits, magnanimous, im- 
 perious, domineering, his vast soul broke through all the 
 fetters which old age and the priestly character imposed up- 
 on it, and, during his pontificate, kept the world in perpe- 
 tual agitation." 
 
 20. Abandoned him to the vengeance of all Christen' 
 
 dom as an odious schismatic. Sect. xxx. page 26. 
 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
 21. It was understood he had come to Paris in order 
 
 to marry the dowager. Sect, xxxiii. page 27. 
 
 Fiddes. 
 
 22. The great seal was given him for life, with the 
 
 dignity of chancellor of the realm. Sect. xxxv. page 28. 
 
 Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, was his predecessor. 
 Between him and Wolsey a grudge had arisen from a mat- 
 ter of ecclesiastical etiquette. York claims primacy of Eng- 
 land, Canterbury of all England ; but Wolsey presumed to 
 encroach on the jurisdiction of Canterbury, which led to 
 vexation on the part of Warham, who saw that it was una- 
 vailing to contend against his influence. Prior to the erec- 
 tion of St Andrew's into an archbishopric, the jurisdiction of 
 York extended over the Scottish bishops. The Christians 
 in Scotland were never altogether under the papal sway, al- 
 though the Roman Catholic religion was the established. — 
 See SibbahVs History of Fyfe. — Warham appears to have 
 been of a contentious disposition ; for, in a controversy be- 
 tween him and Fox, Bishop of Winchester, Julius II. was 
 obliged to interfere, and wrote to the king to stop their dis- 
 putes. The letter is still extant, dated at Rome, 13th March, 
 ir>i2.—Cot Ionian Librae*, Vtlrll. n. u. No I • 
 
NOTES TO BOOK SECOND. 
 
 1. ■ The investiture which had been made according to 
 
 the treaty of Cambray. Sect. ii. page 30. 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
 2. He subdued the Aladolites, and, descending from their 
 mountains upon Persia, defeated the sophy, and took possession 
 of Touris. Sect. vii. page 35. 
 
 General Monk mentions, that Selim was induced to un- 
 dertake the invasion of Persia by the representation of one 
 of the pashaws. The information however which the pa- 
 shaw had given of the state of the country through which 
 his march lay, was so incorrect, that the army lost a vast 
 number of men, and suffered great hardships in those de- 
 serts, which had proved so disastrous to the Roman legions. 
 Considering the pasha w justly responsible for his advice and 
 information, he ordered him to be put to death, although 
 the enterprise had proved successful. — Observations on Mili- 
 tary and Political Affairs, folio edit, page 20. 
 
 3. They had sometimes proved victorious over the 
 
 numerous Ottoman armies. Sect. viii. page 30. 
 
 Guicciardini. 
 
 4. The emperor, with the horse and foot of his dominions, 
 was to proceed by the Danube, and through Bosnia, towanls 
 Constantinople. Sect. x. page .'{7. 
 
 I passed along part of this route in my journey to Wid- 
 din, and have described the country. 
 
264 NOTES. 
 
 5. Discovered a ludicrous collection of the crumbs 
 
 and scraps of beggary* Sect. xi. page 39. 
 
 Hall. 
 
 6. Turned their thoughts again to the modes and 
 
 means of overreaching each other. Sect. xi. page 39. 
 
 Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 
 
 7. Many national distinctions, which are better esti- 
 mated by the feelings than by the judgment of mankind. 
 Sect. xiii. page 40. 
 
 The diplomatic inferiority of the English is of a very an- 
 cient date. William Tindall, in his Practices of Popish 
 Prelates, says, that " the Frenchmen of late days made a 
 play or a disguising at Paris, in which the emperor danced 
 with the pope and the French king, and wearied them ; the 
 kind of England sitting on a high bench and looking om 
 And when it was asked why he danced not, it was answer- 
 ed, that he sate there but to pay the minstrels their wages 
 only ; as who should say, we pay for all men's dancing." — 
 Wordsworth's Eccl. Biog. vol. i. page 379. 
 
 8. After twenty days' learning, they should be obliged 
 
 to depart. Sec. xiv. page 42. 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
 9. — — The French had never ceased to grudge the loss of 
 Tournay. Sect xvi. page 43. 
 
 This place the king had but little comfort of, being al- 
 ways in fear of surprise. The Cardinal had again another 
 time in the month of May, whether in the year 1514 or 
 1515 I know not, intelligence brought him by a friar, whom 
 he had employed as a spy, of a sudden attempt intended to 
 be made on the place : of which the Cardinal and the coun- 
 cil, from the palace at Hampton-court, wrote to Sir Richard 
 Jernigan, now the king's lieutenant there, as certain news. 
 This was wrote the 9 th of May, and such speed was made, 
 
NOTES. 265 
 
 that on the 11th, at night, the said lieutenant received it. — 
 Strype's Eccl. Mem. vol. i. page 11. ed. 1733- 
 
 10. ■ ■ Henry was justly incensed at this, and wrote to 
 his minister at the Papal court. Sec. xvi. p. 44. 
 
 This prelate bequeathed a palace in Rome to the king of 
 England^ and which was afterwards called the English pa- 
 lace. It is now possessed by the Colonna family. — Fiddes, 
 171. 
 
 11. " A great dishonour to the pope to have acted so 
 
 indiscreetly. ^ Sect. xvi. page 44. 
 
 Fiddes's Coll. No 4. 
 
 12. Mary to be held as betrothed to the dauphin. 
 
 Sect. xvi. page 45. 
 
 There was something ludicrous in this article, for the 
 dauphin was not then born, but the queen was with 
 child. 
 
 13. — — It was likewise arranged that the courts of 
 France and England should next year hold a friendly meeting 
 on the plains of Picardy. Sect. xvi. page 45. 
 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
 14. " It is honourable to both," said Francis, " to 
 
 desire an increase of dignity.'" Sect, xviii. page 46. 
 
 Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 
 
 15. In every place it was illuminated with the luslrc 
 
 of precious stones. Sect. xxii. page 50. 
 
 Erasmus. 
 
 16. A treaty was indeed concluded* Sect, xxiii. page 52. 
 Rymcr's Fadera. June 6, 1620. 
 
 17. When Charles departed to be croia/ted e mpe ror, 
 
 the people openly rebelled, assembled the Junta, ike. Sect. 
 xxvi. page .!> j. 
 
 Guicciardini, lib. xiii. 
 
 18. This proposal WOi accepted, and the Cardinal 
 
 went to the place appointed. Sect. xxvi. page 55. 
 
 August 1521. 
 
 
266 NOTES. 
 
 !9- He permitted the Duke of Albany to depart fur 
 
 Scotland. Sect, xxviii. page 56. 
 
 He reached Edinburgh on the 30th October, 1521. 
 
 20- The pope consented to dispense with the obstacles 
 
 of their affinity. Sect. xxix. page 58. 
 
 Lord Herbert, 108. 
 
NOTES TO BOOK THIRD. 
 
 1. Their inhabitants {the monasteries) did not lan- 
 guish for the want of any species of voluptuous enjoyment. 
 Sect. ii. page 61. 
 
 Burnet, 21. 
 
 2. They are the sources of those peculiar restraints 
 
 on territorial wealth by which the claims of creditors and the 
 operations of equity are frustrated. Sect. ii. page CI. 
 
 Although agriculture be the basis of all national prosperity, 
 it is treated in this country as a pursuit subordinate to the 
 fisheries. Medals and toys are distributed for its encourage- 
 ment by clubs and individuals, as if such puerilities were 
 sufficient to counteract the effect of a systematic castration 
 of the industry of the farmer, by maintaining, in despite of 
 right and justice, those laws which were originally framed 
 to repress the rapacity of the clergy. 
 
 :*. Sometimes, it is true, the dramas exhibited in the cathe- 
 drals emitted a feeble ray of poetical genius in the midst of the 
 most obscure bjn-omachies ; but if only screed to make the sur- 
 rounding dot /mess visible. Sect. ii. page CI. 
 
 There is a very pretty monkish morality in the British 
 Museum ; the subject of which is the incredulity of Thomas. 
 — Coitonian {Library) Vespasian , D. VI J L 
 
268 NOTES. 
 
 The piece opens with a dialogue : Eneas and Cleophas. 
 
 Cleophas. Brother Eneas, I you pray, 
 Pleasing to you, if that it be, 
 To the castle then a little way 
 That you vouchsafe to go with me. 
 
 Eneas. Already, brother, I walk with thee 
 
 To yonder castle with right good cheer : 
 Ruing together, anon go we, 
 Brother Cleophas, we two, in fear. 
 
 Cleophas. Brother Eneas, I am sore mov'd 
 
 When Christ our master comes in my mind, 
 When that I think how he was griev'd 
 Joy in my heart I none can find : 
 He was so lowly, so good, so kind, 
 Holy of life, and meek of mood, 
 Alas ! the Jews eyes they were too blind 
 Him for to kill, that was so good. 
 They continue to discourse on the crucifixion, wheu 
 Christ joins them, and requests to walk with them in fel- 
 lowship. 
 
 In the same volume, there is another composition still 
 more singular. It is no less than a rude dramatic outline of 
 the subject of Milton's Paradise Lost. It opens with one Deus 
 giving the following account of himself : 
 
 My name is known, God and King, 
 My work to make well I wend, 
 In myself rcsteth my reign-ing, 
 It hath no ginning nor none end, 
 And all that ever shall have being 
 It is inclosed in my mind : 
 When it is made at my likeing, 
 
NOTES. 269 
 
 I may it save, I may it chind, 
 
 After my pleasure. 
 So great of might is my powstie, 
 All things that be belong to me ; 
 I am a God, in person three 
 
 Knit in one substance, 
 I am the true Trinitie 
 Here walking in the wone, 
 Three persons myself I see. 
 Locking in me God alone 
 I am the fader of powstie, 
 My son with me ginneth gone, 
 My ghost is grace, in majestic 
 I willeth" wealth up in heaven's throne. 
 One God three I call ; 
 I am father of might, 
 My son keepcth right, 
 My ghost hath light 
 And grace with all ; 
 Myself beginning never did take, 
 And endless I am through my own might. 
 First I made heaven with stars of light 
 In mirth and joy ever more to wake, 
 In heaven I bceld angels full bright 
 My servants to be all for my sake, 
 With mirth and melody worship my might. 
 I held them in my bliss, 
 Angels in heav'n ever more shall be 
 With mirth and song to worship mu 
 And joys they may not wis. 
 
 Here angels enter singing hallelujah. Lucifer then says, 
 To whose worship sing ye this song, 
 To worship God, or reverence me ? 
 
270 NOTES. 
 
 But ye me worship ye do me wrong, 
 For I am the worthiest that e'er may be. 
 
 Angel Boni. We worship God of might most strong, 
 Who hath formed both us and thee ; 
 We may ne'er worship him too long, 
 For he is most worthy of majestie. 
 On knee to God we fall, 
 Our Lord God worship we, 
 And in no wise honoureth we thee, 
 A greater lord may ne'er now be 
 Than he that made us all. 
 
 Lucifer. A worthier lord, forsooth, am I, 
 
 And worthier than he e'er will be. 
 In evidence that I am more worthie 
 I will go sitten in God's see. 
 Above sun, moon, and stars or sky, 
 I am now set as ye may see. 
 Now worship me for most might, 
 And for your lord honour now me 
 Sitting in my seat. 
 
 Angel Mali. God mighty we forsake, 
 
 And for more mighty we thee take, 
 Thee to worship honour we make, 
 And fall down at thy feet. 
 
 Deus. Thee, Lucifer, for thy mighty pride, 
 I bid thee fall from heaven to hell ; 
 And all who holden on thy side 
 In iny bless never more to dwell, 
 At my commandment anon down them rlyde 
 With mirth and joy never more to well ; 
 In mischief and mOTOfl ay shall they abide, 
 
NOTES. 271 
 
 In bitter burning and fire so fell, 
 In pain ever to be pight. 
 
 Lucifer. At thy bidding that will I work, 
 
 And pass from joy to pain so smart. 
 
 Now I am a devil full dark 
 
 That was an angel bright. 
 
 Now to hell the way I take 
 
 In endless pain into be pight. 
 
 For fear of fire a faint I crake 
 
 In hell's dungeon my doom is dight. 
 
 Deus. Now heaven is made for angels' sake 
 The first day and the first night ; 
 The second day water I make, 
 The welkin also so fair and light. 
 
 N. B. — The reader, I am sure, will readily pardon the 
 length of this curious quotation. Before Milton's day, his 
 subject, if not attempted in prose, was certainly in rhyme. 
 I am not aware that either of these two holy operas has ever 
 been printed or quoted. 
 
 4>. The hull issued on that occasion is the Jirst on re- 
 cord, by which a limit was put to a general privilege of the 
 church. Sect. iii. page G2. 
 
 19th June, 1504. 
 
 5. The swarm of monks, who, from the days of the 
 
 Saxon kings, had continued to multiply. Sect. iii. page 62. 
 
 The extant accounts of the ancient British monks are very 
 imperfect; they are sufficient, however, to show that the 
 number was very great, and obedient to the bishop of Caer- 
 leon, as all the monks of the early ages of the church were 
 to their bishops, according to the canons of the council of 
 Chalcedon. During the ravages of the Danes, they were so 
 much reduced, that the order was almost destroyed, and 
 
272 NOTES. 
 
 their houses rendered every where desolate, till King Edgar 
 was persuaded to restore them. He erected forty-seven mo- 
 nasteries, which he intended to increase to fifty — the jubilee 
 number ; and, from that period, monkery continued to thrive 
 in England. In his reign, the celibacy of the clergy was es- 
 tablished ; for those who refused to part with their wives 
 xvere then expelled from their livings by Dunstan, Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, Ethelwald, Bishop of Winchester, and 
 Oswald, Bishop of Worcester. The exemption of the mo- 
 nasteries from episcopal and regal jurisdiction did not, how- 
 ever, fully prevail until some time after. 
 
 6. From the election of Alexander VI. the venality and vices 
 of the pontifical government became notorious. Sect. v. page 63. 
 
 Guicciardini. 
 
 7. Even after he had been provoked to assail the papal sa- 
 craments, he showed himself still so much inclined to maintain 
 exclusive prerogatives to the clergy. Sect. vi. page 65. 
 
 His consent that the landgrave of Hesse should marry two 
 wives, was, at least, a questionable dispensation. It may 
 very fairly be said, either to have originated in a motive to 
 gain the landgrave fully to his will, or to have been the be- 
 ginning of new ecclesiastical dogmas, which circumstances 
 afterwards frustrated. 
 
 8. Whether his {Luthci' s) rebellion against the jx>pc 
 
 was inspired by religious integrity, or by carnal re v e nge. 
 Sect. vi. page 65. 
 
 Among the many weapons by which Luther was resisted, 
 one was certainly peculiar to that age. Some of the astrolo- 
 gers took pains to shew that he had a very disadvantageous 
 horoscope, and therefore could not succeed in his undertak- 
 ings ; others held opposite opinions, and declared that ho 
 was destined to be a great man. — Fiddrs, />. 1 17, id. 1794 
 
 9. Indulgences of the viost odious descripti* n urn- sold 
 
 in taverns and bagnios* Sect. vi. page <;<;. 
 
 Guicciardini, lib. xiv. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 273 
 
 10. While the shrines were broken in Europe, the altars 
 
 and idols of Asia and of the New World were also shaken and 
 overthrown. Sect. vii. page 69. 
 
 Lipsius and Paul Jovius. 
 
 1 1. The author was compared to Solomon, and magnified 
 
 for wisdom above all Christian princes that had ever existed. 
 Sect. viii. page Q9. 
 
 Burnet. 
 
 12. With the concurrence of the consistory, he bestowed 
 
 the title (//"Defender of the Faith, as if the truth required 
 any champion. Sect. viii. page 69. 
 
 Fiddes mentions, that it appears from a charter of Richard 
 II. to the university of Oxford, that he made use of the title 
 of the Defender of the Faith.— Page 285. 
 
 Fuller says, in his Church History, " There went a tradi- 
 tion that Patch, the king's jester, perceiving the king very 
 jocund one day, asked him the reason, and when the king 
 told him it was because of his new title Defender of the 
 Faith, the jester made this arch reply : ' Pr'ythee, good 
 Harry, let thee and me defend one another, and let the faith 
 alone to defend itself.' " — liapin, vol. i. page 749, note 3> 
 folio ed. 
 
 13. They regarded all foreigners as barbarians. Sect. 
 
 ix. page 70. 
 
 Guicciar. lib. xiv. 
 
 1 1. The cardinals, with their usual blasphemy, ascribed 
 
 it to a special interfere nee of the Holy Ghost. Sect. X. page 72. 
 
 Guicciardini, lib. xiv. 
 
 1.5. // has been alleged, thai C 'harles did not exert himself 
 
 on this occasion for the advancement of the Cardinal as he had 
 promised ; but the contrary is the fact. Sect. x. page 73. 
 
 Charles certainly did write to his ambassador at Home, to 
 solicit the cardinals to elect Wolsey to the papacy. There 
 is a letter of his to this effect, dated :50th December, 1521, 
 in the Cottonian Library. Vitellius, B. IV. Xo 103. 
 
 S 
 
274 NOTES. 
 
 16. — He was next, in line of blood, to the crown, in the 
 event of Henry V I I.' s family becoming extinct. Sect. xi. p. 
 73-4. 
 
 The following is the genealogy of Buckingham from 
 Edward III. 
 
 Thomas Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 Earl of Buckingham=Eleanor Bohun, d. 1397. 
 
 Ann=Edmund Earl of Stafford. 
 
 Humphrey Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 Humphrey died vita patris. 
 
 Harry, beheaded 1485, father of Edward. 
 
 17. — This antipathy, the narrow jealousy of aristocratic ar- 
 rogance, was probably exasperated by the contempt with which 
 it was retaliated. Sect. xi. page 74. 
 
 The origin of Buckingham's hatred of Wolsey has been 
 ascribed to various occurrences ; but I think it more likely 
 to have arisen from that indescribable antipathy which may 
 have been produced by the character of the Cardinal operat- 
 ing on the pride and rash temperament of the duke. The 
 incidents which are said to have caused their quarrel, I re- 
 gard only as occurrences which served to publish the animo- 
 sity of Buckingham. Some have said that the duke, holding 
 the basin and towel to the emperor and the king at Canter- 
 bury, was enraged at the Cardinal for also attempting to 
 wash his fingers while he held it. But this anecdote is not 
 well authenticated, and is told in several different ways. 
 Besides, those who lay stress on it must exculpate Wolsey 
 from having resolved on the overthrow of Buckingham when 
 he sent Surrey to Ireland, as the earl had departed tor Dub- 
 lin before the court removed to Canterbury, when this quar- 
 rel should have taken place. 
 
 There is another story which seems to illustrate the cha- 
 
NOTES. 275 
 
 racter of the duke. One of the king's sworn servants 
 having, without leave, removed into the service of Buck- 
 ingham, was, on refusing to return, imprisoned by order 
 of Wolsey ; and being accused of this demeanour in the 
 Star-chamber, and before the king in person, was found 
 guilty, and obliged to return to his duty. Buckingham con- 
 strued this proceeding into a personal affront, and never 
 after ceased from reviling the Cardinal's administration. 
 
 18. — A short time before his departure from London, his 
 son-in-law, the Earl of Surrey, appointed viceroy of Ireland, 
 had proceeded to Dublin. Sect. xii. page 75. 
 
 April, 1520. 
 
 It has been regularly alleged, from the days of Polidore 
 Vergil to those of Rapin, that Surrey was sent to Ireland in 
 order that he might be out of the way when the ruin of the 
 duke was determined. But the fact appears to be, that the 
 Earl of Surrey was sent to Ireland a year before the arrest 
 of Buckingham, and some time previous to the discharge of 
 the servant, by whose evidence his desires were disclosed. 
 
 19. — The lamentations, therefore, which accompanied his 
 condemnation and execution (Buckingham's). Sect. xv. page 77. 
 
 17 th May, 1521. 
 
 20. — This was rendered the more probable, as Queen Mar- 
 garet, in consequence of a domestic disagreement, had detached 
 herself from the English party, and opeidy declared that she- 
 was accessary to Albany's return. Sect. xvi. page 78. 
 
 The Duke of Albany had certainly been recalled to Scot- 
 land by a large party in the state. The queen herself had 
 invited him. After the battle of Flodden, she had married 
 the young Earl of Angus, who proving an unfaithful hus- 
 band, she had endeavoured, by the means of Albany, to pro- 
 cure a divorce ; and among other causes that she alleged 
 for seeking this indulgence, was a report that King James 
 had not been killed in the battle, but was alive at the period 
 of her second marriage. Henry disapproved of this proceed- 
 
^«0 NOTES. 
 
 ing, and came to high words with his sister, who answered 
 him in a letter of no small pith and spirit- Francis certainly 
 connived at the return of Albany into Scotland, but there is 
 no evidence which distinctly proves that he directly insti- 
 gated it ; on the contrary, Albany, it appears, was openly in- 
 vited to assume the regency of Scotland. — Lord Herbert — 
 See also Appendix. 
 Rapin, 750. 
 
 21. — The warden of the marches was accordingly com- 
 manded to pass the borders. Sect xvi. page 78. 
 
 8th Feb. 1522. Stow, 515. 
 
 22. — Francis had ordered the goods, debts, and persons of 
 the English in Bourdeanx to be arrested. Sect- xvii. page 79. 
 
 6th March, 1522. 
 
 23. — The Cardinal instantly , on receiving the news, teat Jin 
 the French ambassador, §c. Sect. xvii. page 79. 
 
 " Laid sore to his charge." The Cardinal appears to have 
 been in the practice of doing this to the foreign ambassa- 
 dors whenever he was displeased with the conduct of their 
 courts. In an extract of a letter from Sir Thomas Boleync 
 and Dr Sampson, dated at Valladolide, the 8th of March, 
 1523, and which I have introduced in the Appendix, they 
 say, " Truth it is, they think your grace very sore in words 
 to the ambassadors, the which, as is reported, they take not 
 here as in the best part. Monsieur de Nassau showed us, 
 that one day your grace said you would the emperor .should 
 show the money in hand for the great expedition, like as the 
 king's highness shall for his part ; otherwise you would be- 
 lieve nothing that the emperor should or might do ; and that 
 your grace should have said other words, the which he could 
 not rehearse, and would they had not been spoken." Wol- 
 sey treated them very properly ; it would have been well if 
 later ministers had dealt as plainly. 
 
 24. — Like fin' circulation of tin />/"<></, then very iwtper* 
 fecthf known. Sect, xviii. page 80. 
 
NOTES. 277 
 
 Dr Harvey did not discover, but ouly demonstrated the 
 circulation of the blood. Among many other notices of a 
 knowledge of its motion in different writings, Brutus says 
 to Portia, that she was 
 
 " As dear to me as are the ruddy drops 
 " That visit my sad heart." — Julius Caesar. 
 
 25. Property, which is the basis of political power, was an- 
 ciently the legal and constitutional criterion of intellectual ca- 
 pacity. Sect, xviii. page 81. 
 
 Property is the foundation of political privilege and power. 
 Statutes and institutions may, for a time, suspend, but they 
 cannot alter its consequence, nor prevent the possessors from 
 recovering, sooner or later, their rightful influence in society. 
 Under the feudal system, the value of property was fully re- 
 cognised. In proportion to the extent and opulence of a 
 man's estate were his privileges and authorities. 
 
 " Proud with victory, with riches, and with independence, 
 the conquerors of the Romans separated to enjoy their pos- 
 sessions and their grandeur. They continued, as of old, to 
 possess a military authority and a civil jurisdiction. The 
 prerogatives, which before they had arrogated as due to 
 their merit, they now enjoyed as holders of fiefs. In war, 
 they commanded their vassals and retainers, and they judged 
 of their disputes in times of peace. The inhabitants of their 
 territories were soldiers and subjects. Their castles and 
 household bore a resemblance to the palace and establish- 
 ment of the sovereign. They had their officers and their 
 courts of justice ; and they exercised the powers of punish- 
 ment and mercy. They continued to exert the privilege of 
 making war of their private authority ; and the sovereigns 
 of Europe could behold subjects in arms, who infringed not 
 their allegiance to the state." — Stewart's View >>/' Society in 
 Europe, sect. 3- 
 
 The Dukls, or LOBDfl Palatini;, enjoyed powcra like 
 those of the sovereign : they coined money, enacted Uwa, \t ■ 
 
278 NOTES. 
 
 vied taxes, raised troops, and exercised the prerogative of life 
 and death. The king's writs did not run within the bounds 
 of their territories. They could remove from his courts the 
 suits of their vassals ; and they might demand back all cri- 
 minals who had fled from their authority. They engrossed 
 whatever referred to the civil, the criminal, and the military 
 powers. 
 
 The Eauls of counties, and those towns which were 
 counties within themselves, judged of all civil deeds, deter- 
 mined concerning all crimes, except the pleas of the crown ; 
 and when no appeal was carried to the sovereign, their offi- 
 cers put in execution their decisions. 
 
 Viscounts were, originally, only the deputies of the 
 earls. 
 
 The Barons possessed a jurisdiction similar to that of the 
 earls, but it was confined within the limits of their own do- 
 mains. 
 
 Tenants holding lands on the tenure of providing for the 
 array of the kingdom, the service of more than one knight or 
 soldier in full armour, exercised an authority in many re- 
 spects similar to that of a modern justice of the peace ; and 
 those who were bound to furnish only one knight also en- 
 joyed a degree of manorial jurisdiction ; even the vassals, 
 who held but the eighth part of knight's service of land, 
 were not without a due proportion of juridical power. 
 
 A fraction of land, of which the grant, by the agreement 
 of the giver and the receiver, entitled to the service of a sol- 
 dier or a knight, was a knight's fee. An estate of two hun- 
 dred fees furnished two hundred knights. 
 
 The regular fractions of the fee, or knight's service, wen 
 eight parts, which were termed its members ; and which had 
 this appellation from their being bound to perform the pur- 
 poses of the grant. Of these, the possessors, according to the 
 feudal rules, had manors and jurisdictions. The fee was 
 dismembered beyond the eight portions, into the twentieth, 
 the thirtieth, the fortieth parts, and into fragments still more 
 
NOTES. 279 
 
 minute. Hence the origin of the wee Scottish lairds, and 
 that contemptible crew, who call themselves nobility, the ba- 
 rons of Germany. 
 
 Although the Christian clergy succeeded to the rights of 
 the priests of the nations that destroyed the Roman empire, 
 and as ministers of religion obtained admission into the na- 
 tional assemblies, it was not till after the fiefs became per- 
 petual that they appeared there as barons ; and it was the 
 bishops only who sat in consequence of their spiritual func- 
 tions, as well as by their temporal possessions. The abbots 
 were admitted into the parliaments only by their territorial 
 rights. 
 
 Besides the territorial privileges of individuals, communi- 
 ties were erected into corporations, and endowed with char- 
 ters which conferred upon their magistrates a similar juris- 
 diction. Hence the origin of towns, boroughs, and cities. 
 In England, under the Saxon government, several towns 
 enjoyed extensive privileges ; and in Scotland, burghers, in 
 parliament, were of greater antiquity than knights of the 
 shires. The earls of cities had jurisdiction over the places 
 from which they derived their titles, similar to that which 
 was possessed by the earls of counties. Bishops were of the 
 same rank as earls. Marquises were not known anciently in 
 England ; and their rank in the orders of nobility is higher 
 among us than it was on the continent. 
 
 As property constitutes the only solid and independent 
 basis of political power ; ability, where property is unre- 
 strained by exclusive laws, will, in proportion to its degree, 
 divide the possession. Privileges ought therefore naturally 
 to be distributed in proportion to possessions; and, that 
 power and ability may be united, property should be re- 
 ' leased from all exclusive laws, limitations of inheritance, 
 and entail But as there are two kinds of property, the one 
 local and durable, the other floating and variable, the pos- 
 sessors of the one kind should be distinguished from those 
 
280 NOTES. 
 
 of the other kind. The power of the monied interest should 
 be different from that of the landed interest. 
 
 The military service of the subjects was anciently, in 
 England, as regularly proportioned to their property as the 
 degrees of power. By the 27th of Henry II. it was enacted, 
 that whoever holds one knight's fee shall have a coat of mail, 
 a helmet, a shield, and a lance ; and every lay landholder 
 (mark the exemption of ecclesiastical landholders) as many 
 coats of mail, helmets, shields, and lances, as he has knights' 
 fees in his domain. Every free layman, having chattels or 
 rent to the value of sixteen marks, shall keep a coat of mail, 
 a helmet, and a lance. Every free layman, having in chat- 
 tels or rent ten marks, shall have a habergeon, a chaplet of 
 iron, and a lance ; also all burgesses, and the whole com- 
 munity of freemen, shall have each a wambies, a chaplet of 
 iron, and a lance. By the 13th of Edward I., the statute 
 of Winchester, the armour and weapons, directed to be kept 
 by persons of different possessions, were allotted in similar 
 proportions ; and after the feudal system had fallen into de- 
 cay, the rental of land was taken as the criterion to regulate 
 the distribution of military obligation. — See the 1st of Philip 
 and Mary. 
 
 26. — The Cardinal, with a su?nptuous train of ecclesi- 
 astics, received him again at Dover. Sect. xxi. page 85-6. 
 
 May 26, 1522. 
 
 27. — They empowered him to pronounce the sentence of 
 excommunication on the first that infringed the articles of the 
 contract. Sect. xxii. page 87. 
 
 Lord Herbert, 118. 
 
 28. — It has been said, that, although Charles appeared to 
 treat Wolsey with so much deference, cvc Sect. xxiv. page 88. 
 
 Godwin's Annals. 
 
 29. — He conferred the honour of knighthood on several nffi- 
 
NOTES. 281 
 
 cers who had signalized themselves in that exploit. Sect. xxv. 
 page 89. 
 Holinshed, 874.. 
 
 30. — Informed their respective provinces when and where 
 to assemble. Sect, xxvii. page 90. 
 
 Burnet. 
 
 31. — The Cardinal obliged them to adjourn their meeting 
 to Westminster Abbey. Sect, xxvii. page 90. 
 
 8th May, 1523. 
 
 32. — What was required for the public service ought not to 
 be considered as subtracted from the wealth of the nation. 
 Sect. xxix. page 93. 
 
 There is an anecdote told of the king on this occasion. 
 Hearing that the Commons were likely to object altogether 
 to the grant, he sent for one of the members, Edward Mon- 
 tagu, the ancestor of the dukes of that name, and, mater- 
 nally, of the present Dukes of Marlborough and Buccleuch ; 
 and, upon his kneeling, exclaimed, " Ho ! will they not suf- 
 fer my bill to pass ?" and, laying his hand upon Montagu's 
 head, added, ■' Get my bill passed to-morrow, or else to- 
 morrow this head of yours shall be off." 
 
 Sir Thomas More, on this occasion, when introduced as 
 speaker, addressed the king to the following effect : — " I am 
 both wanting in wit, learning, and discretion to speak before 
 so great a prince. Phormio, your majesty must well know, 
 desired Hannibal to attend his lectures, which he consented 
 to ; but when Hannibal was come, Phormio began to treat 
 of chivalry ; upon which he immediately called him a fool for 
 presuming to teach him, who was master of the art of war. 
 So, in like manner, if I should speak before your majesty of 
 learning, and ordering of the commonwealth, your highness 
 being so well warned, and of such prudence and experience, 
 might justly say to me as the great Hannibal said to Phor- 
 mio." 
 
 I cannot understand how Sir Thomas More ever came to 
 
282 NOTES. 
 
 be considered so highly among the worthies of England as 
 he commonly is. He seems to have been a pleasant- tem- 
 pered man ; but much of his agreeable qualities arose from 
 an excessive disposition to flatter. During the time he was 
 chancellor, he was as fully complaisant to the king's humours 
 as any of his previous ministers. His literary works have no 
 great merit. I never could muster patience enough to read 
 his Utopia. I suspect that much of his celebrity has arisen 
 from his life having been written by his son-in-law. 
 
 33. — Instead of double that sum, which the minister had 
 requested Sect. xxix. page 93. 
 
 The grant was two shillings in the pound on the income 
 from estates of the annual value of twenty pounds and up- 
 wards ; one shilling on the income of estates of the annual 
 rent of forty shillings, and not exceeding twenty pounds ; 
 and a groat a head on every one upwards of sixteen years of 
 age. It was, after the second visit of the Cardinal, agreed 
 that estates of fifty pounds rental and upwards should pay 
 three shillings in the pound. This sum, like the grant of 
 the clergy, was payable in five years, but not annually. 
 
 34-. — The minister sent his secretary to St PauVs to re- 
 ceive the estimates of the citizens, ivithout oath. Sect. xxx. 
 page 94. 
 
 Hall. 
 
 35. The crown of Denmark was not then hereditary. The 
 inheritance was limited to one family, hut the son was not re- 
 gularly the successor of the father. Sect. xxxi. page 94. 
 
 This accounts for the circumstance of Hamlet, in Shak- 
 spearc's tragedy, not succeeding to his father. His uncle 
 must have been chosen successor in the lifetime of the 
 father. 
 
 36. — The prerogative of election was also limited ton 'v- 
 tain nvJmber of persons, &c Sect. xxxi. page 94. 
 
 The constitution of Sweden was anciently of the same de- 
 scription as that of Denmark, and Christen had previously 
 
NOTES. 283 
 
 forfeited his right to the crown of Sweden also. The his- 
 tory of the revolutions in Sweden, ascribed to Vertot, com- 
 mences by stating, that it continued an elective monarchy 
 till about the middle of the fourteenth century. " For al- 
 though/' says the author, " the children and nearest re- 
 lations of the deceased monarch were usually advanced to 
 the throne, the order of birth-right was sometimes neglected, 
 and the succession was always determined by choice. By 
 virtue of this right of election, the Swedes oftentimes claim- 
 ed a power to depose their sovereigns, when they encroached 
 upon the liberty and privileges of the nation. The royal 
 authority was confined within very narrow limits ; for the 
 king could neither make war nor peace, and much less raise 
 money or soldiers, without the consent of the senate, or of 
 the estates assembled." 
 
 37. — The law extended over the inferior orders of the 
 state in the Gothic nations. Sect. xxxi. page 94. 
 
 See Pinkerton's Inquiry into the ancient History of Scot- 
 land. The Goths thought the line of blood more regular 
 by the mothers than the fathers. 
 
 38- — He actually excluded his eldest sister s heirs from the 
 right of succeeding. Sect, xxxiii. page 97. 
 
 There is a singular pamphlet written by one Edward Da- 
 vies, for the express purpose of proving that Henry VIII. 
 was an example of a patriot king. The author does not at- 
 tribute the conduct of the monarch to personal feelings, but 
 to public principles ; and the truth certainly is, that the life 
 of Henry VIII. requires still to be written. 
 
 39. — He (Adrian) had not long done this u hen he fell 
 sick and died. Sect, xxxiv. page 98. 
 
 14th September, 1523. 
 
 40. — The English and Imperial cabinets, aware of his 
 disposition, incited him to the decisire sfc/i which he took at 
 this time. Sect, xxxvi. page 99. 
 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
NOTES TO BOOK FOURTH, 
 
 1 • — The deluges were the blood of mankind, and the devas- 
 tations proceeded from the sword. Sect. i. page 101. 
 
 Many provident persons ascended to high places, and 
 watched with anxious awe for the second flood. The abbot 
 of St Bartholomew's, in Smithfield, built a house at Harrow 
 on the Hill, for the retreat of himself and brethren. Among 
 the many curious similarities between the administration of 
 Pitt and Wolsey, future historians Will probably notice the 
 predictions of Brothers the fanatic, and the circumstance of 
 many people quitting London on the day which he fore- 
 told it should be destroyed. 
 
 2. — The Duke qf Suffolk ivas appointed to the command 
 of an army sent to invade France, &c. Sect. ii. page 101. 
 
 20th September, 1523. 
 
 3. — Surrey, in giving an account of this aj/air to Wolsey, 
 says, that seven times that night spirits and terrible sights 
 ivere visible. Sect. iii. page 103. 
 
 The expense of the operations in France and Scotland 
 drained the cxcliequer, and the Cardinal was obliged to call 
 for a premature advance of part of the subsidy which had 
 been granted by the convocation and parliament. The sum 
 which he thus required was called an anticipation. As tin- 
 term had hitherto been unknown in the language, and the 
 
NOTES. 285 
 
 war was unpopular, the people thought they paid too dear 
 for learning it. 
 
 4. — England agreed to contribute 100,000 crowns 
 monthly, unless the king himself invaded France with his own 
 troops in person. Sect. v. page 105. 
 
 Lord Herbert. 
 
 5. — His cruisers molested their vessel; and he had raiseed 
 the price of English money in his dominions, by which the value 
 of their commodities was depreciated. Sect. ix. page 109. 
 
 Holinshed and Hall. 
 
 6. The Imperial minuter, a man who scrupled not to ag- 
 grandise the reputation of his abilities at the expense of 
 others. Sect. x. page 110. 
 
 This diplomatic rascal's name was De Praet. 
 
 7. — The expense had already greatly exceeded the sums 
 voted by the convocation and by parliament : in consequence, it 
 was resolved to levy an extraordinary contribution. Sect. 
 xvi. page 116. 
 
 There seems reason to think, but I have not ascertained 
 distinctly the fact, that this contribution had reference to 
 the grant of the parliament and convocation, and was founded 
 on them. For among Masters's MS. collection in the library 
 of Jesus College, Oxford, I met with the following note : — 
 
 <f 1525. The Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk write to the 
 Cardinal that the Commons lay all the blame on him ; and 
 that, if any insurrection follow, the quarrel shall be only 
 against him. The Cardinal writes to the same, that it is 
 the custom of the people, when any tiling miscontents them, 
 to blame those that be near about the king ; and when they 
 dare not use their tongues against their sovereign, they, for 
 venting their malice, will not fail to give evil language against 
 the council. •••••• jj seems this amicable grant was 
 
 a modification of a greater grant, which the Commons first 
 condescended to, and after got it part reduced." 
 
 Henry VII. in the year 14-ftf), obtained a similar kind of 
 
286 NOTES. 
 
 grant from parliament. " Which kind of levying money 
 was first devised by King Edward IV. King Henry, fol- 
 lowing the like example, published abroad, that by their 
 open gifts he would measure and search their benevolent 
 hearts and good minds towards him, so that he that gave 
 most should be judged to be his most loving friend ; and he 
 that gave little to be esteemed according to his gift. — Holin- 
 shedyfol. 7 71. 
 
 8. — " But, my lord" said this Jirm and intrepid citi- 
 " zen, many of his laws are excellent." Sect. xvi. page 117. 
 
 The English nation is indebted for its best laws to the 
 frequent usurpations of those who attained the throne to the 
 prejudice of the lineal heirs. The laws of William I. and 
 
 II. regulate the descent, and define the rights of territorial 
 property to this day. The basis of Magna Charta was laid 
 in the concessions with which Henry I. conciliated the peo- 
 ple to his usurpation of the rights of his elder brother. John, 
 who murdered the heir to the crown, granted the Magna 
 Charta. Henry IV., who deposed Richard II., endeavoured 
 to reduce the exorbitant cormorants of the church. Richard 
 
 III. abolished the prerogative of applying directly to the peo- 
 ple for money. In Oliver Cromwell's time, the principles of 
 the navigation laws were first established. The faction who 
 accomplished the revolution of 1688, procured, by William 
 and Mary, the establishment of Protestantism. And the 
 bringing in of the Hanoverian family defined the privileges 
 of the king more explicitly than they had ever been before. 
 Nations are the better now and then for having an usur- 
 per. 
 
 9. — " If the king shall not happen to need it for the war, 
 it may be returned to the contributors ," ike Sect. xvi. page 1 1 8. 
 
 Lord Herbert, 162. 
 
 10. — The Princess Mary, the bride />< frothed of the em- 
 peror, teas consigned to his ministers, Cv'C Sect, xviit page 1 1 2 i- 
 
 Holinshed. 
 
NOTES. 287 
 
 11. — In their interview with Wolsey, they were, however, 
 treated more according to the deserts of their government. 
 Sect. xix. page 122. 
 
 Holinshed, 387. 
 
 12. — The regency of France further engaged, that the 
 Duke of Albany should not return to Scotland daring the re- 
 mainder of the minority of James V. Sect. xix. page 124. 
 
 The circumstance of a bond being given to the Cardinal 
 for so large a sum as a hundred thousand crowns has been 
 held as a proof of his corruption ; but when the amount of 
 the arrears of bis pension is considered, and the revenues 
 which he derived from Spain, and which there was every 
 probability, at that time, would be arrested, there will be 
 no reason for this opinion. Besides this, it was the practice 
 of the age, en the occasion of concluding treaties, to give 
 large presents, and often benefices to the ministers, who 
 were commonly ecclesiastics. Cardinal Campeggio got from 
 Henry VII. the bishopric of Salisbury, and the king's agent 
 at Rome, Cardinal Adrian, was bishop of Bath. 
 
 13. — The treaty arranged was duly ratified by the king. 
 Sect. xix. page 124. 
 
 At Moor in Hertfordshire, 30th August, 1525. 
 
 The terms in which the previous truce was proclaimed are 
 singular, and perhaps without precedent. 
 
 " For as much as the lady regent of France, mother unto 
 the French king, by consent of the princes and peers of the 
 seignorial, and others of the council of the same, hath on the 
 behalf of the French king, and of the three estates of the 
 realm of France, sent unto the king's highness honourable 
 ambassadors, sufficiently authorised to sue, require, and la- 
 bour for peace ; and the same, under honourable conditions 
 and offers, to conclude with the king's highness, if it so shall 
 stand with his gracious pleasure," &c. &c. — Ifarleian Col- 
 lection, A T o 442, A r o 27, page 55, 15th August, 1525. 
 
288 NOTES. 
 
 14. — The children, in silence, passed aci oss the deck to the 
 boat ivhich their father had quitted. Sect. xxi. p. 125. 
 
 Lord Herbert says, they kissed their father's hand. Page 
 184. 
 
 15. — Francis vaulted into the saddle, and exultingly ex- 
 claimed, as he galloped away, " I am again a king." Sect. 
 xxi. page 125. 
 
 Holinshed says, that the exchange took place on the 18th 
 of March, 1526; but the bonds and letters of thanks and 
 gratitude to the king and cardinal of England were dated at 
 Bayonne on the 17 th. 
 
 16. Bourbon, to animate his men, seized a scaling-ladder, 
 and, running forward, was shot, and fell dead on the earth. 
 Sect, xxiii. page 128. 
 
 There is some reason to think that Bourbon was shot by 
 the celebrated artist Benvenuto Cellini ; who some days after 
 wounded the Prince of Orange as he reconnoitred the castle 
 of St Angelo. See Nugent's Translation of the Life of Ben- 
 venuto Cellini, page 130, and also page 148. The incidents 
 as described by Cellini are exceedingly interesting, and told 
 with much of his characteristic vivacity and enthusiasm. 
 
 17. — Nor was the Cardinal less eager to avenge what had 
 happened, or to avert ivhat might ensue. Sect. xxiv. page 
 130. 
 
 The Cardinal ordered prayers to be said for the pope, and 
 all people to fast four days in the week ; but few fasted, for 
 the priests said their commands were to exhort the lay peo- 
 ple, and not to fast themselves. But the lay people said the 
 priests should fast first, for the very cause of the fasting was 
 for a priest; few however of either fasted. — Hall. 
 
 is. — During the chanting of the pathetic orison prepared 
 for thy- occasion, &c. Sect. x\iv. page 132. 
 
 " Sancta Maria, oral pro papa nostro Chmentc." — ('</- 
 vendish* 
 
NOTES. 289 
 
 19. — From Calais he went towards Amiens. Sect. xxv. 
 page 133. 
 
 It is not one of the least of the curious resemblances which 
 the times of Cardinal Wolsey bear to those of Mr Pitt,, that 
 the neighbourhood of Amiens should have been the scene of 
 a treaty which had the effect of terminating a war in a period 
 so similar to that of the French revolution. 
 
 20. — The inhabitants entertained him with Latin orations 
 and triumphal processions. Sect. xxv. page 133. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this public pomp and deference, the 
 Cardinal, in private, suffered several little morifications. In 
 every place where he lodged he was robbed of something 
 valuable ; and he met with a hieroglyphical admonition to 
 humility, by a representation, one morning on his window, 
 of a cardinal's hat with a gallows over it. — Stow. 
 
 21. — By the time he was again mounted, the king, with his 
 guards, had come very near. Sect. xxv. page 134. 
 
 The guard of Scots that attended the French king on this 
 occasion were more comely than all the others. — Cavendish. 
 
 22. — They accordingly stripped the pope of all he pos- 
 sessed in the castle. Sect, xxviii. page 137. 
 
 The money which, at this time, Clement was obliged to 
 borrow, in order to satisfy the extortions of the officers, oc- 
 casioned the first institution of public funds. It was bor- 
 rowed at ten per cent, interest. To pay the interest, and to 
 liquidate the principal, the loughi di monte were formed, 
 which, under Sextus V., was reduced into a complete sys- 
 tem. 
 
 The pope had in his disposal a number of special employ- 
 ments, which were extremely profitable to the occupiers. 
 They were all during life. Scxtus V. ordained, that as the 
 occupiers dropped off, their employment should, for the fu- 
 ture, be sold at certain fixed prices ; and he formed a table, 
 or tariff, which was never to be exceeded. The prices were 
 so moderate as to leave a very considerable profit to the pur- 
 
 T 
 
290 NOTES. 
 
 chasers. These offices were called vacabili, because they were 
 vacable or transferable from any occupier under sixty years 
 of age to another, though of inferior age. The sums received 
 from the sales of these vacabili formed a sinking fund for 
 the extinction of the public debt. 
 
 23. — Turned him into the streets, us the best way of exe- 
 cuting the emperor's instructions. Sect, xxviii. page 137. 
 
 The pope probably did not give up quite so much as I 
 have been led to think from Guicciardini ; at least Benvenu- 
 to Cellini mentions an anecdote that affords some ground for 
 believing that he deceived the Imperial officers : — u I must 
 inform the reader/' says Benvenuto, " how Pope Clement, 
 in order to preserve his regalia, together with all the jewels 
 of the apostolic chamber, sent for me, and shut himself up 
 with the master of the horse and me in an apartment. They 
 placed before me the regalia, with all the vast quantity of 
 jewels belonging to the apostolical chamber ; and his holi- 
 ness ordered me to take off the gold in which they were set. 
 I did as I was directed, and, wrapping up each of them in a 
 little piece of paper, we secured them in the skirts of the 
 pope's clothes and those of the master of the horse."— Life 
 of Benvenuto, page 146. 
 
 24. — " Because your imperial majesty will not agree to 
 equitable terms of peace ; nor pay your debts to the King of 
 England" <£e. Sect. xxix. page 138. 
 
 Charles having married the princess of Portugal, forfeited 
 to Henry, by not marrying his daughter, five hundred thou- 
 sand crowns, according to the stipulations of the treaty of 
 Windsor. 
 
 25. — As for the sons of your king, it is not my fault that 
 they arc not fee ; I hold them in pawn, and he should ;r- 
 dcem them. Sect. xxix. page 139. 
 
 The mean and sordid spirit of Charles and the Spanish 
 government was fully shown in the treatment which the 
 helpless children of Francis received. They were consigned 
 
NOTES. 291 
 
 to the custody of a stupid superstitious wretch, a marquis of 
 the name of Virlanga, and imprisoned in the castle of Pe- 
 dracu. A French officer, who was sent to visit them, found 
 them in a dark dirty room, playing with dogs and dolls, and 
 neglected in their persons. They had forgotten all their 
 native language, and he was obliged to make use of an inter- 
 preter. How different was this from the entertainment 
 which James I. of Scotland received while a prisoner in 
 England ! The officer presented them with new clothes, 
 which the marquis would not allow to be put on, until first 
 tried upon the bodies of other boys ; for he believed that 
 there were witches in France, who could transport, through 
 the air, any one, whose bodies were touched by their oint- 
 ments. Lord Herbert, in speaking of this circumstance, en- 
 deavours, in words without meaning, to give another reason 
 for the conduct of Virlanga ; but the notion was not peculiar 
 to that despicable Spaniard, — it was common to the age. 
 
 Bodin, according to Reginald Scot,* tells a tale of a noble- 
 man of Lyons, who, being in bed with his mistress, she rose 
 in the night, and, lighting a candle, took a box of ointment, 
 with which she anointed her fair body, and, after a few 
 words spoken, she evanished. The gentleman seeing this, 
 leapt out of bed, and, taking the candle in his hand, searched 
 for the damsel; and not finding her, took also the ointment 
 and anointed himself, and was suddenly transported to Lor- 
 rain, into the midst of an assembly of witches. 
 
 There were two kinds of this ointment : the ingredients 
 of the one were fat of young children, seethed with baptis- 
 mal water, in a brazen vessel, to which were added eleose- 
 linum, aconitum, frondes populeiu, and soot ; and of the 
 other, sium, acarum vulgare, pentaphyllon, the blood of a 
 bat, solanum somniferum, and oleum, mixed up together. 
 
 Discovery of Witchcraft, cd. 15fi4. 
 
292 NOTES. 
 
 " Witches," says Scot, " are women which he commonly 
 old, lame, blear-eyed, pale, foul, and full of wrinkles ; poor, 
 sullen, superstitious, and papists ; or such as know no 
 religion, in whose drousie minds the devil hath gotten a fine 
 seat. They are lean and deformed, showing melancholy in 
 their faces, to the horror of all that see them. They are dot- 
 ing, scolds, mad, devilish, and not much differing from them 
 that are thought to be possessed of spirits."* 
 
 The ancient Scottish practice of accusing a witch was 
 highly commended. " A hollow piece of wood or chest," 
 says Bodin, " is placed in the church, into which any body 
 may freely cast a little scroll of paper inscribed with the 
 witch's name, with the time, place, and fact of the witchcraft. 
 The keys of the box were lodged with the ecclesiastical in- 
 quisitors."t A witch engaged, on being taught by the devil 
 the secrets of the craft, not to observe certain ceremonies of 
 the church, to conceal faults at confession, and fastings on 
 Sundays. The reader will here remark, that the acts of 
 witchcraft were injurious to the priesthood. Burns, the 
 poet, in his incomparable poem of Tarn o' Shanter, has ad- 
 mirably described the revels of witches at an initiation. Re- 
 ginald Scot mentions, that they were said in his time " to 
 meet the devil at an appointed place, where they fell a danc- 
 ing and singing of baudie songs, wherein the devil leadeth 
 the dance himself; which dance and other conferences being 
 ended, he supplieth their wants of powders and roots to in- 
 toxicate withall, and giveth to every novice a mark either 
 with his teeth or with his claws, and so they kiss the devil's 
 bare buttocks and depart."^ Bodin mentions, that at these 
 magical assemblies the witches sing, " Har, bar, devil, devil, 
 dance here, play here, sabbath, sabbath ; and while they 
 sing and dance, every one hath a broom in her hand, and 
 
 Reginald Scot, p. 7. t IMA p. 42. J Ibid. p. 43. 
 
NOTES. 293 
 
 holdeth it up aloft." Their dance was called La Volta, and 
 was brought originally out of Italy into France. 
 
 When the Inquisition was instituted in the twelfth cen- 
 tury by Pope Dominick III., the crime of witchcraft, as it 
 came afterwards to be considered, was not then known. 
 The Inquisition was formed to detect heretical opinions and 
 secret abominations ; and it was in consequence of consider- 
 ing all who were obnoxious to its authority as persons of the 
 same description, that the strange stories of the practices of 
 witches arose in the world. 
 
 The origin of the opinion of compacts with the devil is 
 long posterior to the institution of the Inquisition. It was 
 first broached by a young fellow who had been condemned 
 by the inquisitors either for carnal or spiritual reprobation, 
 in the hope of thereby saving himself, and of getting rid of 
 his wife.* Strange as it may now seem, there are no ac- 
 counts of witches, in the sense in which we understand the 
 term, before the year 1400, about the time in which John 
 Huss, who had embraced the opinions of Wickliffe, began to 
 preach in -Germany. There are innumerable stories of 
 ghosts, apparitions, black, white, and grey ; devils of all co- 
 lours and qualities, forms and dimensions ; magicians, sorcer- 
 ers, wizards, and every other kind and sort of superstitious 
 agent ; but prior to the epoch alluded to, I have not been able 
 to find that there is any account of those social ministers of 
 mischief, which afterwards became so famous by the name 
 of witches. Sociablcness is the peculiarity which distin- 
 guishes witches from all other traffickers in the mysteries 
 of futurity : none other were wont to hold meetings in 
 churches and other lonely places. 
 
 Cardanus, in speaking of the horrible assemblies which P. 
 Scllus describes, of the " magical heretickt," the Eutychians, 
 
 " Reginald Scot, p, 1.' 
 
294 NOTES. 
 
 says, " they had originated in the orgies of Bacchus ; which, 
 having been prohibited, were held secretly :" but they had 
 no pretensions to weird influence. 
 
 We suspect not the viciousness and presumption of man, 
 till we attempt to trace the antiquity, and to ascertain the 
 extent of human folly. Many of those who were prosecut- 
 ed and punished for having entered into compacts with the 
 devil, and whose secret meetings were held in desolate 
 churches and unfrequented haunts, were the early and sin- 
 cere, but timid, worshippers of truth. — Such is the malig- 
 nant efficacy of using terms of reproach, — such is the effect 
 of calling those who hold opinions different from ours by 
 such dreadful names as witches and heretics, whigs and 
 tories, jacobins and methodists ; for they all, when consider- 
 ed with their respective circumstances, but imply opponents 
 to the ruling power. 
 
 The celebrated Johannes Weirius, sanctioned by the au- 
 thority of Andreas Massius, one of the most famous Hebrew 
 scholars that ever lived, has shown, that the term which has 
 been translated witch in the English version of the Bible is 
 derived from a word that means, literally, poisoner ; and is 
 figuratively applied to idolatry, sedition, and other delusive 
 practices."* It has been translated into Latin veneficium. 
 The term was applied in a figurative sense originally to those 
 who were afterwards stigmatized by the name of heretics, 
 when they openly opposed the papal doctrines. As magician 
 
 * The following is a note of all the places in the Bible where 
 the terms witch and witchcraft are used : — Micah, 5 cap. 12 ; 
 Nahum, 3 cap. 4 ; Isaiah, 47 cap. 9 & 12 ; 2 Kings, cap. 22 ; 
 Jeremiah, 27 cap. ; Deuteronomy, 18 cap. 10 ; IMalaclii. 9 cap. 
 
 5 ; Exodus, 7 cap. 2 ; Daniel, 2 cap. 2 ; 2 Chronicles, 33 cap. 
 
 6 ; ] Samuel, 1 cap. 23 ; and Exodus, 23 cap. 23. — The law 
 rendered, " Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," should be, 
 11 Thou shalt not sutler a poisoner to live." 
 
NOTES. 295 
 
 primitively signified a wise man, so witch properly signified 
 a skilful woman, and was applied to simplers and midwives ; 
 but having become reproachful, by the pretensions of quacks 
 in these professions, it stood, in the public usage, about the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century, as equivalent to poisoner ; 
 while it also implied the magical skill and foreknowledge 
 which simplers and midwives were then supposed to possess. 
 In translating, therefore, from the briefs and decretals of 
 the clergy, against those who cherished the opinions of 
 Wickliffe, witchcraft came to be used for what signified only 
 heresy. Hence the origin of confounding the secret meet- 
 ings of the reformists with the rites of wizards and the orgies 
 of the Eutychians. After the Reformation, the laws, which 
 had been chiefly enacted against the secret followers of Wick- 
 liffe, as creatures of the most detestable kind, came to be en- 
 forced against those miserable human beings whom Reginald 
 Scot has described and vindicated. I cannot conclude this 
 note without quoting a speech of the celebrated judge, Sir 
 Matthew Hale, on charging the jury at the trial of several 
 witches who were condemned at Bury St Edmunds, on the 
 10th March, 1664. I quote from a report of the trial before 
 me : — " That there were such creatures as witches he made 
 no doubt of at all : for, first, the scriptures had affirmed so 
 much ; secondly, the wisdom of all nations had provided 
 laws against such persons, which is an argument of their 
 confidence of such a crime ; and such hath been the judg- 
 ment of this kingdom, as appears by that act of parliament 
 which hath provided punishments proportionable to the qua- 
 lity of the offence." The unhappy victims of superstition 
 were condemned and executed on Monday the 17th of 
 March, " but they confessed nothing." So much for the 
 state of the wisdom of our ancestors eighty years after the 
 publication of Reginald Scot's curious and benevolent book. 
 
 26. Slaying irith the sit or/1 religious pertOflS of "1/ <lrs<ri])- 
 
296 NOTES. 
 
 lions, till the air and the earth have been infected. Sect. xxix. 
 page 140. 
 
 At this time a pestilence raged in most parts of Europe. 
 
 27. The walls of his chambers were hung with cloth of gold t 
 and tapestry still more precious, representing the most re- 
 markable events in sacred history. Sect. xxx. page 142. 
 
 The subjects of the tapestry consisted of triumphs, pro- 
 bably Roman ; the .story of Absalom, bordered with the Car- 
 dinal's arms; the petition of Esther, and the honouring of 
 Mordecai; the history of Sampson, bordered with the Car- 
 dinal's arms; the history of Solomon ; the story of Susan- 
 nah and the elders, bordered with the Cardinal's arms ; the 
 history of Jacob, also bordered; Holofernes and Judith^ 
 bordered ; the story of Joseph, of David, and of St John the 
 Baptist ; the history of the Virgin ; the passion of Christ '> 
 the Worthies ; the story of Nebuchadnezzar ; a pilgrimage ; — 
 all bordered. His chapel had three organs, and was orna- 
 mented with statues of St John, the Virgin, the Mother and 
 child, St Matthew, St Anthony, St Barbara, and pictures 
 made of inlaid wood and ivory. Some of these latter kinds 
 of pictures were, in that age, made in a very superior style. 
 A catalogue of part of his furniture is in the British Museum. 
 
 Dr Barnes, one of the martyrs of the Reformation, raised 
 his voice against the inordinate pomp of the Cardinal, in a 
 sermon which he preached at Cambridge ; for which he was 
 summoned before him. u What, master doctor," said Wol- 
 sey, " had you not sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach 
 the people, but that my golden shoes, my poll-axes, my pil- 
 lars, my golden cushions, my cross, did so offend you, that 
 you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people ? 
 We were jolily that day laughed to scorne. Verily it was 
 a sermon more fitter to be preached on a stage, * than in a 
 
 • What could the Cardinal mean by this ? Were stagei in his 
 
 day common ? What kind of stages could he allude to ? The 
 
NOTES. 297 
 
 pulpit ; for at the last you said I wear a pair of reclde gloves, 
 I should say bloudy gloves (quoth you), that I should not 
 be cold in the midst of ray ceremonies." Barnes answered : 
 (( I spake nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures, ac- 
 cording to my conscience." " Then," said the Cardinal, 
 " how think you, were it better for me, being in the honour 
 and dignity I am, to coyne my pyllers and poll-axes, and to 
 give the money to five or six beggars, than for to mayntaine 
 the common wealth by them, as I do?" — Wordsworth's Ec- 
 clesiastical Biography, vol. i. page 356. 
 
 28. The sons of the nobility, according to the fashion of the 
 age, tended him as pages. Sect. xxx. page 142. 
 
 " He had also always nine or ten lords, who had each 
 two or three (servants) to wait on them, except the Earl of 
 Derby, who had five." — Cavendish. 
 
 Hume speaks of the young nobility wearing the Cardinal's 
 livery, as if such a thing had not happened before, and was 
 peculiar to his household. " Some of the nobility," says the 
 philosophical historian, " put their children into his family, 
 as a place of education ; and, in order to ingratiate them with 
 their patron, allowed them to bear offices as his servants." 
 It was, however, the practice of the time, and of some anti- 
 quity. ' ' A custom which had been introduced in former ages, 
 seems in this (Henry VIII.) to have been carried almost be- 
 yond credibility : it was that of retaining in the houses of 
 the nobility the sons of their superior dependants, where 
 their educations were completed, who, with a numerous re- 
 tinue of servants, were all known by the badges of their 
 lord.'' DaHawOjf* Inquiries into the Origin and Progress of 
 Heraldry in England, jxige 186. Whiting, Abbot of Glas- 
 tonbury, who was contemporary with Wolsey, retained 
 
 Princess Mary acted in one of Terence's comedies, at an entertain- 
 ment which the king gave the French commissioners after the ban- 
 quet of Hampton Court. 
 
298 NOTES. 
 
 young noblemen. And Gavin Douglas, the celebrated Bishop 
 of Dunkeld, who was also a contemporary of Wolsey, men- 
 tions that he learnt the dialect which he makes use of in his 
 poetry when he was a page. Ellis's Early English Poets, 
 vol i. page 397, And Douglas was a son of old Bell-the- 
 Cat, Earl of Angus, a man who was not likely to have al- 
 lowed his sons to serve as pages, had not the custom been 
 common. The practice, in fact, continued till the reign of 
 Charles I. Dr Fiddes mentions that, in his time, the then 
 Earl of Stafford had a letter of instructions written by the 
 Earl of Arundel, in the year 1620, for the benefit of his son 
 William, then in the house of the Bishop of Norwich, in 
 which he says, (t You shall, in all things, reverence, honour, 
 and obey my Lord Bishop of Norwich, as you would do your 
 parents, esteeming what he shall tell or command you, as if 
 your grandmother of Arundel, your mother, or myself, 
 should say it ; and, in all things, esteem yourself as my 
 lord's page, — a breeding which youths of my house, far su- 
 perior to you, were accustomed to, as my grandfather of 
 Norfolk, and his brother, my good uncle of Northampton, 
 were both bred as pages with bishops." 
 
 29. — The dessert, which consisted of figures, castles, and 
 cathedrals, in confectionary. Sect. xxxi. page 143. 
 
 See Appendix to Dallaway's Inquiries into the Origin and 
 Progress of Heraldry in England. 
 
NOTES TO BOOK FIFTH. 
 
 1. — The delight which the nation has always received 
 from wonderful tales has drawn upon Irishmen the imputa- 
 Hon of being credulous. Sect. ii. page 146. 
 
 In the sixteenth century a remarkable class of adventurers, 
 called Carrows, who followed no other profession but cards, 
 was entertained among them. These carrows, being com- 
 monly well-born, but without patrimony, gleaned a liveli- 
 hood by passing, in quest of play, from house to house among 
 the gentry. To such an infatuated degree were they devoted 
 to this thriftless commerce, that they have sometimes pledg- 
 ed their clothes ; and, when stripped to the skin, have lain 
 by the highways trussed in leaves and straw, inviting the 
 passengers to a game on the green, at which, having nothing 
 else to stake, they put to hazard the glibbs on their fore- 
 heads, their nails, and even their limbs and members, to be 
 lost or redeemed at the courtesy of the winner. — Campion. 
 
 2. — The successful candidate was placed on a stone con- 
 secrated by the use of ages for that purpose. Sect. iii. 
 page 140. 
 
 The ancient practice of crowning the Scottish kings on 
 the black stone of Scoone was derived, no doubt, from a si- 
 milar practice. The black stone of Scoone was carried from 
 Scotland by Edward I. It stands in Westminster Abbey, 
 and is placed under the coronation chair of the British king*. 
 
300 NOTES. 
 
 There is a prophecy concerning this stone, which says, that 
 wherever it is carried the Scots shall bear sway. 
 
 3. — The abolition of opinions, which have become habi- 
 tual. Sect. iv. page 149. 
 
 In the recent discussions relative to the judicature of Scot- 
 land, the consequences of the j udges being obliged to deliver 
 their opinions on the bench was not sufficiently considered : 
 nor does it seem to have been the thought that it necessarily 
 rendered them personally interested in every trial before 
 them. "Where a man delivers an opinion professionally, if it 
 happen that another differ from him, he cannot avoid giv- 
 ing the reasons upon which he formed his opinion ; and to 
 maintain the correctness of his reasons is essential to his 
 character. It is thus with the Scotch judge; and perhaps 
 not only the delays, but the errors of decision, in the Court 
 of Session, may be attributed to the public deliberations of 
 the judges. Indeed, otherwise, it is not easy to conceive how 
 fifteen men, of the best education of the kingdom, and, com- 
 monly, of more than ordinary talents, should not have been 
 able to afford so much satisfaction, nor to decide so correctly, 
 as the common run of juries. The Scotch senate of justice, 
 in its very nature, is equivalent to a jury ; and the only dif- 
 ference between "it and the twelve good men and true of 
 England is, that the former acts individually, and the other 
 collectively. Oblige the Scotch judges to deliver their deci- 
 sions as a body, and the utility of a jury may be fairly ques- 
 tioned in the administration of the Scottish law. 
 
 4. — Were deemed incapable of enjoying the beneficence 
 of Jurisprudence. Sect. iv. page 150. 
 
 Sir John Davies, in the year 1612, published a curious 
 tract on this subject. It is worthy of being reprinted at the 
 expense of the Irish nation. 
 
 5. — It was deemed necessary to send cortimissioners. 
 Sect. vii. page 153. 
 
 Sir Anthony Fitzherbcrt, one of the justices of the Com- 
 
NOTES. 301 
 
 mon Pleas ; Ralph Egerton ; Dr Denton, Dean of Litchfield, 
 — Holinshed, 883. 
 
 6. — Acrimony of the Cardinal's taunts, which they were 
 themselves often obliged to endure. Sect. viii. page 156. 
 
 Skelton, who was the Peter Pindar of his day, gives the 
 following ludicrous description of the Cardinal, in a satire 
 for which he prudently took refuge in the sanctuary of West- 
 minster Abbey: 
 
 u Our barons are so bold, 
 
 Into a mouse hold the wold 
 
 Run away and creep ; 
 
 Like as many of sheep, 
 
 Dare not look out a dur, 
 
 For dread of the mastiff cur ; 
 
 For dread of the butcher's dog, 
 
 Would worry them like a hog. 
 
 For if this cur do gnar, \ 
 
 They must all stand afar, V 
 
 To hold up their hand at the bar. J 
 
 For all their noble blood 
 
 He plucks them by the hood, 
 
 And shakes them by the ear, \ 
 
 And brings them in such fear, v 
 
 He baiteth them like a bear, ) 
 
 Like an ox or a bull. 
 
 Their wits he saitli are dull : 
 
 He saith they have no brain 
 
 Their estate to maintain ; 
 
 And makes to bow the knee 
 
 Before his majesty. 
 
 Judge of the king's laws, 
 
 He counts them fools and daws ; 
 
 Sergeants of the coif eke, 
 
 He sayeth they arc to seek, 
 
302 NOTES. 
 
 In pleading of their case 
 
 At the Common Pleas, 
 
 Or at the King's Bench, 
 
 He wringeth them such a wrench, 
 
 That all our learned men 
 
 Dare not set their pen 
 
 To plead a true trial 
 
 Within Westminster-hall. 
 
 In the Chancery where he sits, 
 
 But such as he admits, 
 
 None so hardy are to speak. 
 
 He saith, ' Thou huddy peak, 
 Thy learning is too lewd, 
 Thy tongue is not well thew'd 
 To seek before your grace, 
 And only in this place.' 
 He rages and he raves, 
 And calls them canker'd knaves. 
 Thus royally he doth deal, 
 Under the king's broad seal. 
 And in the chequer he them checks, 
 In Star Chamber he nods and becks, 
 And beneath him their so stout, 
 That no man of them dare rout, 
 Duke, earl, baron, nor lord, 
 But to his sentence must accord; 
 Whether he be knight or squire, 
 All must follow his desire." 
 7. — The earl, being afteinvards pwdoned, returned home. 
 Sect. viii. page 160. 
 
 There is a story told of Kildare, but it seems so imper- 
 fectly authenticated that I have omitted it in the text. It is 
 reported that he was found guilty of treason, and, being in 
 the Tower a prisoner, was one evening amusing himself at 
 
NOTES. 303 
 
 some game of pastime with the lieutenant, when a mandate 
 came from the Cardinal for his execution. The earl, sus- 
 pecting some foul play, persuaded the lieutenant, who, by- 
 right of office, had access to the king at all times, to go and 
 ascertain whether his majesty was privy to the warrant. 
 The king, who admired the character of Kildare, is said to 
 have been greatly astonished at the presumption of the Car- 
 dinal, and to have forbade the execution. But the story is 
 altogether exceedingly confused, and there is no trace of Kil- 
 dare having been at all tried. Besides, the warrant could not 
 have been issued without the sign manual ; and the Cardi- 
 nal was not charged in his impeachment with ever having 
 attempted to exercise an authority so illegal as to send forth 
 a warrant for execution without having obtained the king's 
 consent and signature. 
 
 8. — It was only opinions and principles, surreptitiously con- 
 cealed under the Christian name, that reaUy guided the policy 
 of rulers and the conduct of men. Sect. ix. page 161. 
 
 See Middleton's Letter from Rome. There is a curious 
 history connected with this celebrated performance. In the 
 year 1667, a book was printed, in French, at Leyden, which 
 had been translated into English, under the title of " The 
 Conformity between Modern and Antient Ceremonies.'' 
 The translator says the original is so scarce, that, though 
 conversant in large well- furnished libraries, he never met 
 with but two copies ; and he therefore conceived, that the 
 impression may have been bought up by the Roman priest- 
 hood, — a mode of assassinating truth which they often prac- 
 tised. However, it would appear that certainly more than 
 two copies did exist in this country ; for the motive which 
 led him to make the translation arose out of the great popu- 
 larity of the letter from Rome by Conyers Middleton. That 
 learned doctor of divinity, in his preface to his work, says, 
 u Many writers, I know, have treated the same subject be- 
 fore me; some of which I have never seen, but those I have 
 
304 NOTES. 
 
 looked into, handle it in a manner so differently from what 
 I have pursued, that I am under no apprehension of being 
 thought a plagiary, or to have undertaken a province already 
 occupied." But, upon comparing his performance with the 
 translation alluded to, there certainly never was a more clear 
 case of plagiarism ; for there is nothing at all important in 
 the doctor's letter which is not taken from the other book, al- 
 though there are many .things in the other book which are not 
 in the doctor's letter. He has, in fact, being a sort of a clas- 
 sical man, confined himself to the pilfering of the quotations 
 and allusions to the classics. I should not have noticed this 
 literary fraud, but for a slander which Middleton has pro- 
 pagated against the Cardinal. He says, in his dedication to 
 the Bishop of Norwich, after speaking of the effects which 
 the freedom of printing had in dissolving the influence of 
 the papal spells and superstition, " In the very infancy of 
 printing amongst us, Cardinal Wolsey foresaw this effect of 
 it, and, in a speech to the clergy, publicly forewarned them, 
 that if they did not destroy the press, the press would de- 
 stroy them." Now, this not only shows the most complete 
 ignorance of the history of Wolsey, but also of the origin of 
 the church of England, of which the author was a member, 
 but is as false in statement as some other passages from his 
 pen. The truth is, that what Middleton ascribes to the 
 Cardinal was said by the Vicar of Croydon, in Surrey, in a 
 sermon which he preached at Paul's Cross, about the time 
 that the New Testament was translated. " We must," said 
 the vicar, " root out printing, or printing will root out us." 
 See Fox's Acts and Monuments, vol. i. page 927. See also 
 Leivis's History of the Translations of the Bible, Svo. edit, 
 page 71. — It is curious to trace the regular descent of scan- 
 dal, when it is once sanctioned by an authority. I remem- 
 ber, in reading a book of travels (I think Barrow's in China), 
 of meeting with a repetition of the aspersion, which Middle- 
 ton, in his ignorance, has thrown out on Wolsev- 
 
 3 
 
 
NOTES. 305 
 
 9. — The tranquillity which ensued was called the truee 
 of God. Sect. x. page 16i. 
 
 Favyn's Theatre of Honour. 
 
 10. — The first general result of the Reformation was 
 the transfer of the political power possessed by churchmen into 
 the hands of the hereditary class. Sect. xiii. page 168. 
 
 The effect which the progress of society in this country 
 has had in the choice of ministers of state, would afford a 
 curious subject of investigation. In the mde and early 
 times, when war was the business of the people and the 
 study of the rulers, the ministers were men who had proved 
 their capacity in the field of battle. After the different king- 
 doms of the heptarchy were consolidated under one crown, 
 and when the clergy had obtained access to the secrets of 
 men's minds and a separate establishment, the ministers 
 were generally ecclesiastics. On the abrogation of the papal 
 authority, the nobility succeeded to the power and emolu- 
 ment of state administration ; but they in turn seem also 
 destined to make way for the lawyers. The military rulers 
 disciplined the people into order and subordination ; the 
 clergy reduced into a system (keeping in view the advance- 
 ment of their own class) those maxims and regulations by 
 which the military preserved submission and obedience ; and 
 the nobility, less numerous than the clergy, and more in- 
 terested in the concerns of the people, have improved and 
 extended, though still with reservations to their own advan- 
 tage, the laws and usages which their ecclesiastical predeces- 
 sors introduced. 
 
 11. — /;/ all protectant nations, the lawyers hare super- 
 seded the clergy in the administration qf political justice and 
 the rules of life, in irhich the substance of all human power 
 really consists. Sect. xiii. page 168- 
 
 I am not qualified to speak on the special privileges of 
 lawyers; but I believe, that in England they are not liable 
 to arrest for debts ; that in open court they may deliver the 
 
 u 
 
306 NOTES. 
 
 most libellous slanders, without being liable to prosecution ; 
 and that it is absolutely necessary to employ them in many 
 of the most essential circumstances of life. The exclusive 
 privileges and immunities of the lawyers is a curious and 
 interesting topic. They seem, all things considered, to have 
 been of pretty rapid growth since the abolition of the poli- 
 tico-clerical influence. 
 
 12. Erasmus, with his accustomed sycophancy towards the 
 prosperous great, describes the Cardinal's table, <^c. Sect. xiv. 
 page 168. 
 
 Sir Thomas More gives a caricatured description of the 
 Cardinal at his table. " It happened one day, that he had, 
 in a great audience, made an oration, wherein he liked him- 
 self so well, that at his dinner he sat on thorns till he might 
 hear how they that sat with him might commend it. And 
 when he had sat musing a while, devising, as I thought, 
 upon some pretty proper way to begin, at last, for the lack 
 of a better, he brought it even bluntly forth, and asked us 
 all how well we liked the oration. But when the problem 
 was once proposed, till it was full answered, no man, I ween, 
 ate one morsel more ; — every man fell into so deep a study 
 for the finding of some exquisite praise ; for he that should 
 have brought out but a vulgar and a common commendation, 
 would have thought himself shamed for ever. Then said 
 we our sentences by row as we sat, from the lowest unto the 
 highest, in good order, as it had been a great matter of the 
 common weal, in a right solemn council. He that sat high- 
 est, and was to speak, was a great beneficed man, and not a 
 doctor only, but also somewhat learned indeed in the laws 
 of the church. A wonder it was to see how he marked 
 every man's word that spake before him ; and it seemed, 
 that every word, the more proper it was, the worse he liked 
 it, for the cumberancc he had to study out a better to pass 
 it. The man even swet with labour, so that he was fain in 
 the while to wipe bis face." — Sir Thomas, although he speaks 
 
NOTES. 307 
 
 of the personage so bepraised as a great man of Germany, 
 evidently meant Wolsey. The caricature is, however, more 
 disgraceful to the guests than to the patron. 
 
 13. — The chronological compilations of that period arc 
 still the great quarries of English history. Sect. xv. page 1 70. 
 
 I have never been able to bring myself to entertain any 
 feeling approximating to respect for the works of Chaucer, 
 Gower, and Lydgate, and the other tribe of rhymers that 
 preceded the reign of Henry VIII. They seem to me to 
 have acquired their fame before the nation knew any thing 
 of poetry, and to have remained famous when their works 
 are no longer read. There is a little sprinkling here and 
 there of naivete in Chaucer, but his lists and catalogues of 
 circumstances are any thing but poetry. Lydgate is bare 
 naked prose. The honest man speaketh indeed very truly 
 of himself: — 
 
 " I not acquainted with muses of Maro, 
 Nor with metres of Lucan or Virgil, 
 Nor sugared ditties of Tullius Cicero, 
 Nor of Homerus to follow the fresh style, 
 Crooked to climb over so high a style, 
 Or for to follow the steps aureate 
 Of Francis Petrak, the poet lauriate." 
 
 Lydgate s St Albans. 
 
 In the course of my researches among the deservedly- 
 neglected works of the ancient authors, preserved as curiosi- 
 ties in the British Museum, I full in with one piece which 
 drew my attention more particularly ; not, however, on ac- 
 count of any beauty that it possesses, but as one of the ear- 
 liest allegorical poems in the English language. It is called 
 " The Castle of Labour," and is written with the same mo- 
 ral purpose as the Magical Castle of Indolence by Thomson. 
 I selected those passages that appeared to me the best. The 
 
308 NOTES. 
 
 reader will be amused to observe a remote resemblance in the 
 opening to the commencement of Thomson's masterpiece: 
 
 " Ye mortal people that desire to obtain 
 Eternal bliss by your labour diligent, 
 With mortal riches subdue your pain, 
 To read this treatise to the right intent, 
 Which shall show you, plain and evident, 
 That Idleness, mother of all adversity, 
 Her subjects bringeth to extreme poverty." 
 
 The poet feigns himself to be newly married; and, while 
 in bed along with his wife, ruminating on his future pros- 
 pects, hath divers visions. Heaviness, alias Dulness, is to- 
 lerably well described : — 
 
 <{ Him to behold I was dismayed, 
 How he of things past did clatter. 
 ' Many take to me,' he said ; 
 He had well learned for to patter ! 
 Of things to come fast did he chatter." 
 
 DESrAIR. 
 
 " Came to me, Despair, in cruel ordinance, 
 One of the worst of all the sort, 
 She was chief captain of their dance, 
 And daughter unto Discomfort. 
 
 This Despair did me so assail 
 That lost was my discretion, 
 My face began for to wax pale 
 By fear of her cruel vexation. 
 
 So cruel was her perturbation, 
 Which on me she did extend, 
 
NOTES. 309 
 
 That I thought, in conclusion, 
 Of myself to make an end. 
 
 I was ready to run here and there. 
 To climb up high, and then to fall, 
 By my life I set not one hair, 
 By means of this fury infernal." 
 
 reason. 
 " As I was in this perturbation, 
 I saw a lady pleasant and bright, 
 For to behold her meek fashion 
 Soothly it was a pleasant sight. 
 
 Her caperon with pearl was pight, 
 With precious stones about illumining; 
 Her beautiful face shone as bright 
 As Phcebus doth in a May morning." 
 
 Reason tells him, after some wholesome counselling, and 
 when he shall have subdued Pride — 
 
 " After that Pride is from thee chased 
 
 By the might of Humility, 
 
 With another thou shalt be menaced 
 
 More dangerous, called Envy, 
 
 Accompanied with Misery, 
 
 With Falsehood, Murder, and Treason, 
 
 Such shall be in his company, 
 
 With Slander and false Detraction." 
 
 liNVY. 
 
 " 111 report hath he in his parish, 
 With many vices and divers, 
 Which unto virtue are reproach, 
 Hym ahvay tending to reverse." 
 
310 NOTES. 
 
 CHAUITY. 
 
 " Charity hath waiting on her dignity 
 Very true Love and Misericord, 
 Benevolence, with Grace and Verity ; 
 Among them found is not Discord, 
 But Peace, Meekness, and Concord." 
 
 " Cruelty beareth his hanger, 
 Felony is his chief champion, 
 Perversity is his porter, 
 Madness reigns in his dungeon, 
 Cursed Murder, that false felon 
 Of his house, is as chief captain : 
 There is a cursed Religion 
 To him that followeth their train." 
 
 I)r William Bulleyn, who lived during the administration 
 of Wolsey, gives the following allegorical critique on the an- 
 cient English poets : — 
 
 " Witty Chaucer, who sat in chair of gold, covered with 
 roses, writing prose and rhyme, accompanied with the spi- 
 rits of many kings, knights, and fair ladies, whom he plea- 
 santly besprinkled with the sweet water of the well conse- 
 crated to the muses, named Aganippe. Near also sat old 
 moral Gower, with pleasant pen in hand, commending ho- 
 nest love without lust, and pleasure without pride ; holiness 
 in the clergy without hypocrisy ; — no tyranny in rulers, — 
 no falsehood in lawyers, — no busary in merchants, — no re- 
 bellion in the commons, — and unity among kingdoms, &C. 
 There appeared also, lamenting Lydgate, lurking among the 
 lilies, with his bald sconce, and a garland of willows about 
 it. Booted he was after St Burnet's guise; and a black 
 stemmel robe, with a monstrous hood, hanging backward ; 
 his body stooping forward, bewailing every state with the 
 spirit of providence ; foreseeing the falls of wicked men, and 
 
NOTES. 
 
 311 
 
 the slippery seats of princes ; the ebbing and flowing, the 
 rising and falling of men in authority ; how virtue advances 
 the simple, and vice overthrows the most noble of the world. 
 Skelton sat in the corner, with a frosty-bitten face, frown- 
 ing, and scarcely yet cooled of the hot-burning choler kindled 
 against the cankered Cardinal Wolsey, writing many a sharp 
 disticon with bloody pen against him, which he sent through 
 the infernal Styx, Phlegeton, and Acheron, by the ferryman 
 of hell, called Charon, to the said Cardinal. Then Barclay, 
 in a hooping russet long coat, with a pretty hood in his neck, 
 and fine knots upon his girdle, after Francis's tricks. He 
 was born beyond the cold river Tweed ; he lodged upon a 
 sweet bed of camomile, under the cinamon tree, about him 
 many shepherds and sheep, with pleasant pipes, greatly ab- 
 horring the life of courtiers." 
 
 Dr Berkenhout very flatly contradicts Sir George Mac- 
 kenzie for placing Barclay among Scottish authors ; but Bul- 
 leyn, who was contemporary with him, very clearly, in the 
 preceding passage, mentions the fact ; and there are internal 
 evidences in the author's works besides, which render the 
 point indisputable. 
 
 14. Warton, in speaking of the state of poetry in the reign 
 of Henry VIII., observes, §c. Sect. xvii. page 173. 
 
 " The marriage of a princess of England with a king of 
 Scotland, from the new communication and intercourse 
 opened between the two courts and kingdoms by such a con- 
 nexion, must have greatly contributed to polish the rude 
 manners, and to improve the language, literature, and arts, 
 of Scotland." — History of English Poetry. 
 
 1.3. — If diplomatic corresjxmdencc and the occasional vi- 
 sits of courtiers have any effect on the progress of nations, the 
 English were more likely to hare been indebted to the Scots. 
 Sect. xvii. page 11:1. 
 
 In the year 1515, one of Sir David Lindsay's comedies 
 was acted at the court of Scotland. I have not been able to 
 
312 NOTES. 
 
 find, that during the whole public life of Wolsey any secu- 
 lar dramas in English were exhibited in England. The 
 Princess Mary performed in a Latin comedy, which was got 
 up at Greenwich, for the entertainment of the French com- 
 missioners sent to ratify the treaty concluded by Wolsey for 
 the extrication of the pope. Dr Berkenhout mentions, in 
 the preface to his Biog. Brit, that about the year 1110, one 
 Geoffrey, a schoolmaster in Dunstable, wrote a drama called 
 St Katherine, which the doctor, considering as a play, says 
 that it carries the authentic history of the English theatre 
 two hundred years higher than that of any other modern 
 nation. But I conceive that we ought to reject the ecclesi- 
 astical performances from the history of the stage ; and the 
 title of St Katherine implies that it was a monkish exhibi- 
 tion. In the reign of Richard I. Seneca's tragedies, and 
 some other Latin dramas, were translated into English by 
 Henry, a monk of Hyde Abbey. Lord Berners, who died 
 in 1532, was one of our earliest dramatic poets. I have not 
 been able to meet with any of his works ; and those of Lord 
 Morley, who was almost his contemporary, are supposed to 
 be lost. I have given, in the Appendix, extracts from trans- 
 lations of Seneca's tragedies made about the beginning of 
 Queen Elizabeth's reign. 
 
 16. — Yet the literature of the nation lias certainly not 
 declined. Sect. xvii. page 174. 
 
 Unless the king himself have an unaffected predilection 
 for the arts and sciences, the court is not more favourable to 
 the improvement of knowledge, than the universities of Ox- 
 ford and Cambridge under their existing constitutions. A 
 century has elapsed since either of these great seminaries has 
 possessed, as a resident member, perhaps it may be added, 
 produced one man of influential genius; one who has im- 
 proved the public taste, or extended the horizon of science. 
 In men of learning, and men whose talents have been 
 strengthened by the reflections of others, undoubtedly the 
 
NOTES. 313 
 
 universities of England have not been less prolific, even in 
 proportion to the superior opulence of their endowments, 
 than those of any other country ; but persons versed only in 
 books are not entitled to be classed with those men who, by 
 the activity of their genius and the novelty of their notions, 
 affect the mass of the public mind, and change its bias and 
 motion. It can never indeed be admitted, that the granting 
 of emolument to the professors of definite and enacted opi- 
 nions will promote the essential interests of reason and li- 
 terature. 
 
 There is a list of the most remarkable of the recent off- 
 spring of Oxford and Cambridge among the notes of Dr 
 Parr's celebrated Spital sermon. It is undoubtedly a splen- 
 did list of able characters ; but which one of them all is en- 
 titled to the epithet of a man of genius, in the proper mean- 
 ing of that term ? which of them can be considered either as 
 the head of his class, or the founder of a school ? — a Sir Isaac 
 Newton, a Milton, a Dryden, an Addison, an Adam Smith, 
 a Franklin, or a Davy ? 
 
 17. — It was only remarkable for ingenious hypotheses, 
 unsupported by the evidence of facts, and for a credulous faith 
 on astrological influence, equally visionary. Sect, xviii. page 
 174. 
 
 I am induced, at the suggestion of a friend, in addition to 
 what I have already said upon the obsolete science of astrology, 
 to insert here Sir Christopher Heydon's account of the tides, 
 from his " Defence of Astrology," published in 1003. — " All, 
 or most authentiquc writers, yea Picus himself, attribute the 
 ebbing and flowing of the sea to the moone, as to a true and 
 positive cause. We see by experiences that the moon placed 
 in the heavens at such a position the seas flow, and at such 
 a position ebbe, and otherwise not ; and therefore she is the 
 cause thereof." Page 431. — " Our spring tides are never 
 but in the conjunction of the sunne and moone, when the 
 beams of both lights are united in a right line." Page Kit. 
 
314 NOTES. 
 
 — f< The sunne and other Starrs may hasten, hinder, or alter 
 the moon's influence, as we see in spring tides, at the change 
 and full moone, and neap tides at quarters." — Page 443. 
 
 With respect to the astrological opinion of the lunar in- 
 fluence on diseases, a work has lately been published by a 
 medical gentleman, the result, I understand, of his own ob- 
 servations during a residence in India. I have not seen the 
 work itself. 
 
 18. — By a draft of the statutes written by Wolsey him- 
 self, it appears that the permanent members of the college were 
 intended to consist of a dean, fyc. Sect. xx. page 178. 
 
 " The Cardinal's college was one of the first seminaries of 
 an English university that professed to explode the pedant- 
 ries of the old barbarous philosophy, and to cultivate the 
 graces of polite literature." — Wartons Hist, of English Poet- 
 ry, vol. Hi. page 3. 
 
 At this period, a great contest arose in the university of 
 Oxford respecting the modern pronunciation of the Greek 
 language. The opponents of the new style called themselves 
 Trojans ; they had a Priam, a Hector, a Paris, &c But 
 what was at first merely jocular, became the cause of serious 
 quarrel. The students felt the rivalry of the ancients, whose 
 names they had assumed, and the Isis was disturbed with 
 taunts that might have frightened the Scamander. The 
 pulpit became as it were a tower of Ilium, for a pious priest 
 took an opportunity of declaiming, with the rapture of Cas- 
 sandra, against all Greek and Latin literature. At length 
 the Cardinal, like Jupiter, interposed, and the Greeks, as of 
 old, were victorious. 
 
 19. — He took "measures to obtain copies of all the manu- 
 scripts in the Vatican, in addition to the ordinary means of 
 procuring books. Sect. xx. page 1 79. 
 Fiddes, 306. 
 
 Among the various charges that have been made against the 
 Cardinal, the burning of the first translation of the Testament 
 
NOTES. 315 
 
 is considered not the least heinous. But it ought to have been 
 remembered, that the translation was not destroyed merely be- 
 cause it served to make the vulgar acquainted with the truths 
 of Christianity, but because it was full of errors. The resolu- 
 tion to withhold the Scriptures from the people was an af- 
 ter thought of the priesthood. In the time of Wolsey, so far 
 from the idea being entertained, it was well known that se- 
 veral translations did exist of the Scriptures in this kingdom. 
 The following is a chronological account of them : — 
 
 A. D. 679. In an extraordinary consistory held at Rome 
 about British affairs, it was, among other things, ordained 
 that lessons out of the Divine oracles should be always read 
 for the edification of the churches. 
 
 734. Bede died in this year, and in his time the Anglo- 
 Saxonic translation of the Old and New Testaments existed. 
 
 1228. The first synodical prohibition, or restraint of the 
 liberty or birth-right of Christians in the use of the Holy 
 Scriptures in their own language, was made this year in a 
 synod held at Tholouse, on occasion of the doctrine and 
 preaching of the Waldenses, " That the Holy Scripture is 
 the rule of Christian faith, and that the reading and know- 
 ledge of it is free and necessary to all men." 
 
 1349. Richard Rollo, a hermit of Hampole, in Yorkshire, 
 died. He translated and wrote a gloss in English of the 
 Psalter; at the end of which he gave this account of his per- 
 formance. I quote his own words, altering only the spell- 
 ing. The changes in the English language, since that time, 
 chiefly affect the orthography. " In this work I seek no 
 strange English, but lightest and commonest, and swilk that 
 is most like unto the Latin ; so that they that know not the 
 Latin, by the English may come to many Latin words. In 
 the translation, I follow the letter as meikle as I may, and 
 thor I find no proper English, I follow the wit of the words, 
 so that they that shall read it, them dare not dread erring. 
 In the expounding, I follow holy doctors. For it may come 
 
316 NOTES. 
 
 into some envious man's hand that knows not what he 
 should say, that will say, that I wist not what I said, and 
 so do harm till him and till others." The first psalm in this 
 translation begins : 
 " Blessed is that man, the which ga' heed not in the council 
 
 of wicked, 
 And the way of sinful stood not, and in the chair of pesti- 
 lence sat not." 
 
 The second psalm also thus : 
 " Why gnash'd the folk, and the people thought idle 
 thoughts ?" 
 
 In the MS. library of Bene't College, Cambridge, is a gloss 
 on some of the books of the New Testament in the English 
 about the period of the Conquest. As a specimen of the 
 translation the following may be subjoined: — 
 
 Mark i. 7. " And he preached, saying, a stolworther than 
 I shall come after me, of whom I am not worthy downfallen 
 or kneeling to loose the thongs of his chaucers." 
 
 Mark vi. 22. " When the daughter of that Herodias was 
 in come, and had tumbled and pleside to Herod, and also to 
 the sitting at meat, the king says to the wench ." 
 
 Mark xii. 1. "A man made a vinerie, and he made about 
 a hedge, and grofe a lake, and bigged a tower." 
 
 1381. Some time before this year Wicklif published his 
 translation of the Bible. 
 
 1394. About this time the Queen of England had the gos- 
 pels in the English tongue. 
 
 1462. The Bible first printed. 
 
 1526. Tyndal's translation of the Testament printed. 
 
 1527. Tyndal's translation of the Testament suppressed 
 and burnt, on account, as it was alleged, of numerous hereti- 
 cal errors and false translations. Burnt at the instigation of 
 the Bishop of London, with the Cardinal's authority. 
 
 1530. Tyndal's translation of the five books of Moses 
 printed. 
 
NOTES. 317 
 
 1531. Tyndal's translation of Jonas' prophecy printed. 
 
 The avidity with which the translations of the Scriptures 
 were bought and read, attracted the attention of govern- 
 ment. On the 25th May, 1531, the king held a great coun- 
 cil, for the purpose of determining what should be done in 
 order to counteract the effects of the imperfect translations ; 
 and it was resolved that the Scriptures should be purely 
 translated. 
 
 20. — Allen, his chaplain, whom he had appointed the 
 judge, $c. Sect, xxiii. page 182. 
 
 John Allen. He was appointed to the bishopric of Dub- 
 lin in 1528. " The five persons employed by the Cardinal 
 to take measures for the demolition of the monasteries quar- 
 relled among themselves. One killed another, and was hanged 
 for it ; the third drowned himself in a well ; the fourth was 
 reduced to beggary ; and Allen, afterwards a bishop, was 
 cruelly maimed in Ireland." — Stow. 
 
 21. — The king, it is true, after the affair of the prioress 
 ofWinton, continued to evince the same unlimited friendship, 
 4;c. Sect, xxiii. page 181. 
 
 Storer, from whose beautiful and very scarce poem I have 
 already made several extracts, gives the following picturesque 
 description of the Cardinal as a patron of literature : — 
 
 " Look how the God of Wisdom marbled stands, 
 
 Bestowing laurel wreaths of dignity 
 
 In Delphos isle, at whose impartial hands 
 
 Hung antique scrolls of gentle heraldry, 
 
 And at his feet ensigns and trophies lie: 
 
 Such was my state, whom every man did follow, 
 
 A living image of the great Apollo. 
 

 
 NOTES TO BOOK SIXTH. 
 
 1. — A hull was, notwithstanding, obtained from Julius II. 
 to authorise and sanctify its accomplishment. Sect. iii. pngo 
 187. 
 
 6th December, 1 503. Burnet's Col. Book II. No I. 
 
 2. — After the death of Claud, §c. Sect. x. page 193. 
 Hall gives a dark and mysterious hint about the death of 
 
 this lady. In the year 1525, the Earl of Angus came from 
 France to England ; and, being at Windsor, he declared, 
 that in the council of France, while he was there, they hap- 
 pened to talk of the wars then raging between Charles and 
 Francis ; upon which one lord stood up and said, it were bet- 
 ter that one person suffered, rather than all the realm should 
 be daily in this mischief. It was asked what he meant. 
 He answered, that if the queen, who was lame and ugly, 
 were dead, ways might be found for the king to marry 
 the emperor's sister, and to have with her the duchy of 
 Milan ; and then with her money the King of England 
 could be paid. But whether this was true or false, certain 
 it is that the French queen died very soon after. 
 
 
NOTES. 319 
 
 3. — He had before violated his conjugal fidelity, §c. Sect. 
 xi. page 196. 
 
 He had a son by a daughter of Sir John Blunt. 
 
 4. — The earliest regular despatch written on the subject 
 of the divorce is dated five months posterior. Sect. xii. page 
 196. 
 
 5th December, 1527. 
 
 5. — What that way was likely to be, the Cardinal ivas well 
 aware, and in consequence addressed Clement with uncommon 
 vehemence and eloquent anxiety. Sect. xii. page 198. 
 
 16th February, 1628. Burnet's Coll. No 8. 
 
 6. — An officer, called the apparitor, cried aloud, " Henry, 
 King of England, come into the court." Sect. xvi. page 20 J. 
 
 Burnet affirms, that the king did not appear personally, 
 but by proxy ; and that the queen withdrew, after reading a 
 protest against the competency of her judges : " and from 
 this it is clear," says the bishop, " that the speeches that 
 the historians have made for them are all plain falsities." 
 But it must be observed, that the testimony for the personal 
 appearance of the king before the cardinals is surprisingly 
 powerful, even though we do not go beyond Cavendish and 
 the other ordinary historians. But, in addition to these, re- 
 ference may be made to the authority of William Thomas, 
 clerk of the council in the reign of Edward VI., and a well- 
 informed writer, who, in a professed apology for Henry 
 VIII., extant in MS. in the Lambeth and some other lib- 
 raries, speaking of this affair, affirms, " That the Cardinal 
 (Campegius) caused the king, as a private partye, in person 
 to appeare before him, and the ladie Katharine both." Page 
 31. — Wordsworth's Ecc. Biog. vol. i. p. 423. 
 
 7. — " For myself," said he, " rath* r than he strayed hy 
 fear or affection against the dictates of 'my conscience t 1 will 
 
 suffer to he torn to pieces joint by joint." Sect, xviii. page 
 209. 
 
 Burnet's Coll. No xxix. page 75, 
 
320 NOTES. 
 
 8. — Rochfurd knelt down at the bedside, and, weeping., 
 made no reply. Sect. xix. page 211. 
 
 Cavendish. 
 
 9. — She ivas related to the emperor, who had refused to 
 feed his insatiable ambition with the papal dignity. Sect. xx. 
 
 page 212. 
 
 It is very doubtful. if Charles, at any of the elections which 
 happened during the* administration of Wolsey, was able to 
 have procured him the popedom ; and I have not found any 
 evidence of the Cardinal ascribing his disappointments to 
 remissness on the part of the emperor. The sequel of the 
 queen's affairs shows clearly, that she did Wolsey wrong in 
 considering him as actuated by malice or resentment against 
 her : so far, indeed, was this from being the case, that it 
 may be said, he sacrificed himself rather than consent to de- 
 cide unjustly against her. The despatches relative to the 
 election after the death of Adrian commence at page 80 of 
 Dr Fiddes's Collections. 
 
 Charles, on the death of Adrian, as well as at the death 
 of Leo, wrote to Rome in favour of Wolsey. I do not sec 
 any reason to disbelieve his imperial majesty, especially as w r e 
 have it certified by himself in a letter to the Cardinal, dated 
 at Pampeluna, 16th December, 1523. — Cottonian Library, 
 Vespasian, c. ii. No 52. 
 
 10. — He opened the Michaelmas term at Westminster' 
 hall ivith all his usual pomp and ceremony. Sect. xxi. page 
 215. 
 
 A contemporary poet gives the following description of the 
 style of his procession : — 
 
 " Before him rideth two priests strong, 
 And they bear two crosses right long, 
 
 Gaping in every man's face. 
 After him follow two laymen secular, 
 And each of them holding a pillar 
 
 In their hands, instead of a mace. 
 
NOTES. 321 
 
 Then followeth my lord on his mule, 
 Trapped with gold under her cule 
 
 In every point most curiously. 
 On each side a pole-axe is borne, 
 Which in none other use are worn, 
 
 Pretending some high mystery. 
 
 Then hath he servants five or six score, 
 Some behind and some before ; 
 
 A marvellous great company ; 
 Of which are lords and gentlemen, 
 With many grooms and yeomen, 
 
 And also knaves among. 
 Thus daily he proceedeth forth, 
 And men must take it at worth, 
 
 Whether he do right or wrong." 
 
 The following description of the Cardinal's person may be 
 added : — 
 
 A great carl he is and fat ; 
 Wearing on his head a red hat, 
 
 Procured with angel's subsidy ; 
 And, as they say, in time of rain, 
 Four of his gentlemen are fain 
 
 To hold o'er it a canopy. 
 Besides this, to tell thee more news, 
 He hath a pair of costly shoes 
 
 Which seldom touch the ground ; 
 They are so goodly and curious, 
 All of gold and stones precious, 
 
 Costing many a thousand pound. 
 And who did for these shoes pay ? 
 Truly many a rich abbey, 
 
 To be eased of his visitation. 
 
322 NOTES. 
 
 11. — Inventories were made of his furniture, fyc. Sect. 
 xxi. page 216. 
 
 In the Harleian Library in the British Museum there is 
 one of the Cardinal's inventories. When I opened it, the 
 sand was still sticking on the ink, and it appeared in many 
 places not to have been opened since it was written. 
 
 12, — He rewarded the bearer of this gratifying intelli- 
 gence with a chain of gold and a precious relic from about his 
 neck. Sect. xxii. page 217. 
 
 " The Cardinal presented the messenger with a chain of 
 gold, at which a piece of the cross hung ; but it troubled 
 him much that he had nothing to send to the king, till at 
 last, having espied in his train a facetious natural, in whom 
 he took much delight, he desired the messenger to present 
 him to the king. The fellow, however, did not much relish 
 his promotion, for the Cardinal was obliged to send six of his 
 tallest yeomen to carry him to court." — Lord Herbert, 293. 
 
 18. — The course which the king pursued, though dic» 
 tated, no doubt, by some remains of tenderness, ivas that of all 
 others against which he was least able to bear himself with 
 fortitude. Sect, xxiii. page 219. 
 
 In the fine moral scene between Wolsey and Cromwell, in 
 Henry VIII., Shakspeare appears to have made use of 
 Storer's poem ; at least there is something in the tone of the 
 following stanza that reminds me of several expressions in 
 the Cardinal's reflections : — 
 
 " If once we fall, we fall Colossus like, 
 
 We fall at once like pillars of the sun ; 
 
 They that between our stride their sails did strike, 
 
 Make us sea-marks where they their ships do run, 
 
 E'en they that had by us their treasure won." 
 
 
NOTES TO BOOK SEVENTH 
 
 1. — The abortive assurances that he had received from the 
 king. Sect. vi. page 230. 
 
 Storer, in making him describe his feelings after his fall, 
 uses one of the most pathetic and original images in poetry : 
 
 "lam the tomb where that affection lies 
 That was the closet where it living kept ; 
 Yet wise men say, Affection never dies : 
 No, but it turns ; and, when it long hath slept, 
 Looks heavy like the eye that long hath wept." 
 
 2. — Like many other great men in adversity, his mind 
 took a superstitious turn, $c Sect. vii. page 231. 
 
 u As my lord was accustomed to walk towards the evening 
 in his garden there (Richmond), and to say his even-song, 
 and other his divine service, with his chaplain, it was my 
 chance to wait upon him ; and standing in an alley, whilst 
 he in another alley walked with his chaplain, saying his ser- 
 vice, as is aforesaid ; as I stood I espied certain images of 
 beasts counterfeited in timber standing in a corner under the 
 lodge, to the which I repaired to behold ; among whom I 
 
324 OTTES. " 
 
 saw stand there a dun cow, whereon I most mused, because 
 of the like entailing {sculpture) thereof. My lord, being 
 in the further side of the garden, espied me, how I viewed 
 and surveyed these beasts ; and, having finished his service, 
 came suddenly upon me or I was aware, and speaking to me, 
 said, ' What have you espied here, that you look attentively 
 upon ?' ( Forsooth, if it please your grace/ quoth I, • here 
 I behold these images ; the which, I suppose, were ordained 
 to be set up within some place about the king's palace : 
 howbeit, sir, among them all, I have most considered this 
 cow, in which, as me seemeth, the workman has most lively 
 showed his cunning.' ' Yea, marry/ quoth he, ' upon this 
 cow hangeth a certain prophecy, the which is this ; because 
 peradventure you never heard it before, I will show you. 
 Tli ere is a saying, — 
 
 When the cow rideth the bull, 
 Then, priest, beware thy scull. 
 
 Of which prophecy, neither my lord that declared it, nor yet 
 I that heard it, understood the effect ; although the com- 
 passing thereof was at that present aworking, and about to 
 be brought to pass. This cow the king had by reason of the 
 earldom of Richmond, which was his inheritance ; and this 
 prophecy was afterwards expounded in this way : — The dun 
 cow, because it was the king's beast,* betokened the king ; 
 and the bull betokened mistress Ann Bullen, who was after 
 queen, because that her father had a black bull's head in his 
 
 * Almost all the signs of the public-houses in England were ori- 
 ginally the crests or arms of popular public characters. The dun 
 cow of the alehouses probably originated in the reign of Henry VII., 
 who was Earl of Richmond. The chequer of the public-houses in 
 London was the arms of the Eails of Arundel, who had anciently the 
 privilege of licensing them. 
 
NOTES. 325 
 
 cognizance, and was his beast ; so that when the king had 
 married Queen Anne., the which was unknown to my lord, 
 or to any other, that he would do so : then was this prophe- 
 cy thought of all men to be fulfilled ; for what numbers of 
 priests, religious and seculars, lost their heads for offending 
 such laws as were made to bring this marriage to effect, is 
 not unknown to all the world.'" — Wordsworth's Cavendish, 
 p. 480. 
 
 3. — He held frequent conferences with a venerable old 
 man belonging to the brotherhood of the Charter-house at 
 Richmond. Sect. vii. page 231. 
 
 " Every day he resorted to the Charter- house there (Rich- 
 mond), and in afternoons he would sit in contemplation with 
 one of the most ancient fathers of that house in their cells, 
 who converted him, and caused him to despise the vain 
 glory of the world, and gave him shirts of hair to wear, the 
 which he wore diverse times after." — Wordsworth's Caven- 
 dish, p. 181. 
 
 4. — On the following Thursday kept Maunday, accord- 
 ing to the practice of the church, §c. Sect. viii. page 232. 
 
 " Upon Palm-Sunday he bore his palm, and went in pro- 
 cession with the monks, setting forth the divine right ho- 
 nourably, with such singing men as he had there of his own ; 
 and upon Maunday-Thursday he made his maunday there 
 in our Lady's chapel, having fifty-nine* poor men, whose 
 feet he washed and kissed ; and, after he had wiped them, 
 he gave every of the said poor men twelve pence in money ; 
 throe ells of good canvas to make them shirts ; a pair of new 
 shoes ; a cast of red herrings, and three white herrings ; and 
 one of them had two shillings." — Wordsworth's Cavendish, 
 p. l 85. 
 
 • This number denoted that he was then fifty-nine years old 
 
326 NOTES. 
 
 5. — - Neither in word nor deed have I injured the king, 
 and I ivill maintain my innocence face to face with any man 
 alive:'' Sect. x. page 234. 
 
 Cavendish, with his accustomed minuteness, gives a very 
 pathetic account of the Cardinal's feelings on the day prior 
 to his removal from Cawood. — " I resorted unto my lord, 
 where he was sitting in a chair, the tables being spread for 
 him to go to dinner. But as soon as he perceived me to come 
 in, he fell out into such a woeful lamentation, with such 
 rueful tears and watery eyes, that it would have caused a 
 flinty heart to mourn with him ; and as I could, I, with 
 others, comforted him ; but it would not be : for (quoth he) 
 ' now I lament that I see this gentleman (meaning me) how 
 faithful, how diligent, how painful, he hath served me, 
 abandoning his own country, wife and children, his house 
 and family, his rest and quietness, only to serve me, and I 
 have nothing to reward him for his high merits. And also 
 the sight of him causeth me to call to my remembrance the 
 number of faithful servants that! have here with me, whom I 
 did intend to prefer and advance to the best of my power from 
 time to time, as occasion should serve. But now, alas ! I am 
 prevented, and have nothing here to reward them ; all is de- 
 prived me, and I am left their miserable and wretched mas- 
 ter. Howbeit (quoth he to me, calling me by name) I am a 
 true man, and you shall never have shame of me for your 
 service.' ' Sir, (quoth I unto him,) I do nothing mistrust 
 your truth ; and for the same I will depose both before the 
 king and his honourable council. Wherefore, sir, (kneeling 
 upon my knee) comfort yourself, and be of good cheer. The 
 malice of your ungodly enemies cannot and shall not prevail. 
 I doubt not but, coming to your answer, my heart is such, 
 that ye shall clearly acquit yourself, so to your commenda- 
 tion and truth, as that, I trust, it shall be much to your great 
 honour, and restitution unto your former estate/ ' Yea, 
 
XOTES. 327 
 
 (quoth he,) if I come to ray answer, I fear no man alive, for 
 he liveth not that shall look upon this face (pointing to his 
 own face) that shalL be able to accuse me of any untruth ; 
 and that know well my enemies, which will be an occasion 
 that they will not suffer me to have indifferent justice, but 
 seek some sinister means to dispatch me.' ' Sir, (quoth I,) 
 ye need not therein to doubt, the king being so much your 
 good lord, as he hath always showed himself to be, in all 
 your troubles.' With that came up my lord's meat; and so 
 we left our former communication, and I gave my lord water, 
 and set him down to dinner ; who did eat very little meat, 
 but very many times suddenly he would burst out in tears, 
 with the most sorrowful words that have been heard of any 
 woeful creature." — Wordsworth's Cavendish, page 519. 
 
 6. — In this situation he was found by Sir William King- 
 ston, constable of the Tower. Sect. xi. page 235. 
 
 The Cardinal having been once informed that he should 
 die at Kingston, he interpreted it to mean Kingston on the 
 Thames, which made him always avoid the riding through 
 that town, though sometimes the nearest way to his house 
 from the court. Cavendish, hearing of Sir William's arrival, 
 went to the Cardinal, who was sitting on a chest at the up- 
 per end of the gallery, with his staff and his beads in his 
 hand. Upon hearing the name of Sir William Kingston, he 
 repeated it once or twice, and sighed deeply, adding to some 
 observations which Cavendish made, " Well, well, I per- 
 ceive more than you can imagine or do know. Experience 
 of old hath taught me." 
 
 7. — " Had I served Citxl as diligently as I have done the 
 Ling he would not have given me over in my grey hairs." 
 Sect. xii. page 238. 
 
 This sentiment seems to be common to fallen ministers. 
 When Samrah, the governor of Busorah, was deposed by 
 Maoujyah, the sixth caliph, he is reported to have said, " If 
 
328 NOTES. 
 
 I had served God so well as I served him, he would not have 
 condemned me ," and Antonio Perez, the favourite of Philip 
 II. of Spain, made a similar complaint. 
 
 8. — As the clock struck eight he expired. Sect. xii. page 238. 
 November, 29, 1530. 
 
 9. — The funeral service was protracted by unusual dirges 
 and orisons, and it was past midnight before the interment 
 took place. Sect. xiii. page 238. 
 
 Storer, in allusion to the obscurity of the Cardinal's grave, 
 says, in addressing Melpomene, 
 , " Perchance the tenour of that mourning verse 
 May lead some pilgrim to my tombless grave, 
 Where neither marble monument nor hearse 
 The passengers' attentive vein may crave ; 
 Which honours now the meanest person have. 
 But well is me, where'er my ashes lie, 
 If one tear drop from some religious eye." 
 Bishop Corbet, in his " Iter Boreale," also, in allusion to 
 the same circumstance, says, 
 
 i( Although from his own store Wolsey might have 
 A palace or a college for his grave, 
 Yet here he lies interr'd, as if that all 
 Of him to be remember'd were his fall ; 
 Nothing but earth to earth, nor pompous weight 
 Upon him but a pebble or a quoit." 
 10. — Few have been thrown down from, so great a height 
 under the imputation of smaller crimes. Sect. xiv. page 239. 
 Lord Herbert, 343. 
 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 BOOK I. ~/-JJ. 
 
 When I first projected this work, I made a large collection 
 of state papers, and copies of original letters, which I in- 
 tended to have modernized in the orthography and grammar ; 
 but I was afterwards induced to alter this intention, and to 
 consider the Appendix as the inferior part of my book, 
 have, therefore, only selected such of the papers as I thought 
 necessary to verify the facts that I have added to the relation 
 of circumstances in the narrative, and the notices that I have 
 introduced of the different public personages with whom 
 Wolsey had to deal. J. G. 
 
 A Narrative, supposed to be a contemporary, or rather a kind 
 of Gazette, Account. 
 
 " Hereafter ensue the trewe encountre or batayle lately 
 don betwene Englande and Scotlande. In which batayle the 
 Scottishe kynge was slayne. 
 
 " The maner of thaduauncesynge of my lord of Surrey, 
 treasourier and marshall of Englande, and lcuetenuntc gene- 
 rail of the north parties of the same, with xxvi.M men to 
 wardcs the kynge of Scots and his armye, vewed and nom- 
 bred to an hundred thousande men at the leest. 
 
332 APPENDIX. 
 
 " Firste my said Lorde at his beynge at Awnewik in Nor- 
 thumbrelande the iiij. daye of Septembre the v. yere of 
 y e reygne of kynge Henry the VIII. herynge that y e kynge 
 of Scottes thenne was remoued from North'me, and dyd lye 
 at forde castel, and in those partyes dyd moche hurte in 
 spoylyng, robynge, and brennynge, sent to the sayde kynge 
 of Scottes ruge cros purseuaunte at armes to shewe vnto hym 
 that for somoche as he the sayde kynge, contrary to his ho- 
 nour, all good reason and conscyence, and his oothe of fide- 
 lite, for y e ferme entartnynge of perpetuall peas betwene the 
 kyng hygnes our souyerayne lorde and hym, had inuaded. 
 this raalme, spoylad brente, and robbyd dyuers and sonderf 
 townes and places in the same. Also had caste and betten 
 downe the castel of Norhame, and crewelly had murdered 
 and slayne many of the kynnes liege people, he was co'men 
 to gyue hym baytal. And desyred hym y*, for so moche as 
 he was a kynge and great prynce, he wolde of his lusty and 
 noble courage consent therunto, and tarye y e same. And 
 for my sayde lordes partie his lordeship promysed y e assured 
 accomplysshement and perfourmance therof as he was true 
 knyght to God and the kynge his mayster. The kynge of 
 Scottes herynge this message reyceued and kepte w fc hym 
 y e sayd ruge cros purseuaunte and wolde nat sufFre hym at 
 y e tyme to retourne agayne to my sayd lorde. 
 
 " The v. daye of Septembre his lordshyp, in his ap- 
 prochynge nyghe to the borders of Scotlande, mustred at 
 Bolton, in Glendayll, and lodged that nyght therein y' felde 
 with all his armye. 
 
 " U The next day beynge the vi daye of Septembre, the 
 kynge of Scottes sent to my sayd lor of Surrey a harokle of 
 his called Ilaye, and demaunded if that my sayde Lorde 
 wolde iustefye the message sent by the sayd purseuaunte 
 ruge cros as is a foresayd, sygnefyingc that if my lorde wolde 
 so doo it was the thynge that moost was to his joye and 
 comforte. To this demaunde my lord made answere afore 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 333 
 
 dyuers lordes, knyghtes, and gen time' nyghe iii myles from 
 the felde where was the sayde harolde was apstoynted to 
 tarye, bycause he shulde nat vewe the armye, that he com- 
 maunded not oonly the sayde ruge cros to speke and shewe 
 the seyde wordes of his message, but also gaue and corny tted 
 vnto hym the same by instruccyon sygned and subscrybed 
 with his owne hande, whiche my sayde lorde sayd he wolde 
 justefye. And for so moche as his lordshyp conceyued by 
 the sayde harolde how joyous and comfortabel his message 
 was to y e sayde kynge of Scottes, he therfore, for the more 
 assuraunce of his message, shewed that he wolde be bou'den 
 in x.m li and good suertes with his lordshyp to gyue the 
 sayde kynge batayle by Frydaye next after, at the furthest, 
 if that the sayde kynge of Scottes wolde assyne and appoynte 
 any other erle or erles of his realme to be bounden in lyke 
 maner that he wolde abyde my sayde lordes commynge. 
 And for somoche as the sayd kynge of Scottes reyued styll 
 with hym ruge cros purseuau'te, and wolde nat suffre hym 
 to retourne to my lorde, my sayde lorde in like and sem- 
 blable maner dyd kepe with hym the scottesshe harolde Hay, 
 and sant to the sayd kynge of Scottes with his answere and 
 further offer, as is af dre rehersed, a gentylman of Scotlande 
 that accompany ed and came to my sayde lorde with the sayd 
 harolde Hay. And thus Hay contynued, and was kepte 
 close, tyll the commynge home of ruge cros, whiche vas the 
 next daye after. And thenne Hay was put at large, and ly- 
 berte to retourne to the kynge of Scottes his maystere, to 
 shewe my lordes answercs, dcclaracyons, and goodly offers, 
 as he had hade in euery behalue of my sayde lorde. 
 
 " H The same daye my lorde deuyded his arme in two 
 bataylles ; that is, to wytte, in a vau'warde and a rercvvarde ; 
 and ordcyncd my Lorde Ilowarde admorall, his sone, to be 
 capitaync of the sayde vaunwardc, and hymselfe to be chefe 
 capitaync of the rercwarde. 
 " U In the breste of y c sayd vaunwardc was w l the sayde 
 
334 APPENDIX. 
 
 jorde admorall ix thousande men ; and vnder capitaynes of 
 the same breste of the battayle was the Lorde Lumley,Syr 
 Wyll'm Bulmer the Baron of Hylton, and dyuerse other of 
 the byschopryche of Duresme, vnder Seynt Cuthbert his 
 banner ; the Lorde Scrope of Upsall, the Lord Ogle, Syr 
 Wyllyam Gascoygne, Syr Cristofer Warde, Syr John Euer- 
 ingh'm, Sir Walter Griffith, Syr John' Gower, and dyuers 
 other esquyres and gentylmen of Yorkeshyre and North- 
 umberland. And in ayther wynge of the sam batayle was 
 iiiM. men. 
 
 " IT The capitayne of the right wynge was mayster Ed- 
 monde Howarde, son to my seyde Lorde of Surrey : and 
 with hym was Syr Thomas Butler, Syr John Boothe, Syr 
 Richarde Boolde, and dyuerse other esquyers and gentylmen 
 of Lancasshyre and Chassyre. 
 
 " 1T The capitayne of the laste wynge was olde Syr Marma- 
 duke Co'steble, and with hym was mayster Wyll'm Percy, 
 his sons elawe, Wyll'm Constable, his broder, Syr Robert 
 Constable, Marmaduke Constable, Wyll'm Constable, his 
 sones, and Syr John Constable of Holderness, with dyuerse 
 his kynnesmen, allies, and other gentylmen of Yorkeshyre 
 and Northumberlande. 
 
 " If In the breste of batayle of the sayde rerewarde was 
 vM. men with my saide Lorde of Surrey ; and vnder capi- 
 taynes of the same was the Lord Scrope of Bolton, Syr 
 Philype Cyney, broder elawe to my sayd Lord of Surrey, 
 George Darcy, sone and heyre to the Lord Darcy, saydc 
 beynge capitayne of the firste batalye of the scottes fyersly 
 dyd sette upon master Edmonde Howarde, capitayne of the 
 vttermoste parte of the felde at the west syde. And be- 
 twene them was so crueH batayle that many of our parte, 
 Chesshyre men and other, dyd flee. And the sayd mayster 
 Edmonde, in maner lefte alone, without socoure, and his 
 standerde and berer of the same beten and hewed in peces, 
 and hymsel thrysc stryken downc to the grou'd, howbeit, 
 lykc a couragyous and an hardy yongc lusty gcntylman, he 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 335 
 
 recouered agayne, and faught hande to ha'de with one Sir 
 Dauy Home, and slewe hym with his owne handes. And 
 thus the sayde raasyter Edmonde was in great perell and 
 daunger, tyll that the Lorde Dacre, lyke a good and an 
 hardy knyght, releued and came vnto hym for his socoure. 
 
 " H The seconde batayle came vpon my Lorde Howarde. 
 The thirde batalye, wherin was the Kynge of Scottes and 
 moste parte of the noble men of his reame came fyersly vpon 
 my sayd Lorde of Surrey. Whiche two bataylles, by the 
 helpe of Elmyghty God, were, after a great confydelyete, 
 venquysshed, ouercomen, betten downe, and put to flyght ; 
 and fewe of them escaped with their lyues. Syr Edwardc 
 Stanley beynge at the vttermoste parte of the sayde rere- 
 warde, onhes partie seynge the fourthe batayle redy to releue 
 the said Kynge of Scottes batayle, couragyously, and lyke 
 a lusty and a hardy knyght dyd sette upon the same, and 
 ouercame and put to flyght all the Scottes in the sayd ba- 
 tayle. And thus, by the grace, socour, and helpe of Al- 
 myghty God, victory was gyuen to the reame of England ; 
 and all the Scottysshe ordendn'ce wonne and brought to 
 Ettell and Barwykein surelie. 
 
 " If Hereafter ensueth the names of sundry noblemen of 
 the Scottes slayne at the sayde batayle and felde called 
 Brainston's moore. 
 
 Firste y e Kyng of Scotoes. 
 The Archebysshop of Seynt 
 
 Androwes. 
 The Bysshop of Thyles. 
 The Bysshop of Ketnes. 
 The Abbot Y'nchafFrey. 
 The Abbot of Kylwenny. 
 Therle of Mountroose. 
 Thcrle of Crafordc 
 Therle of Argyle. 
 Therle of Lennox. 
 
 Therle of Lencar. 
 Therle of Castelles. 
 Therle of Bothwell. 
 Therle Arell, constable. 
 Lorde Lowett. 
 Lorde Forboos. 
 Lorde Elweston.' 
 Lord Inderby. 
 Lorde Maxwell. 
 Mac Keyn'. 
 Mac Clccn'. 
 
336 APPENDIX. 
 
 John' of Graunte. Lord Dawisfie. 
 
 The maist : of Agwis, Sir Alexander Scotlon'. 
 
 Lorde Roos. Sire John Home. 
 
 Lorde Tempyll. Lorde Coluin. 
 
 Lorde Borthyke. Sir Dauy Home. 
 
 Lorde Askyll. Cuthbert Home of Fascastell. 
 
 " Over and aboue the seyd p'sones there at slayne of the 
 Scottes, vevvd by my Lord Dacre, the noumbre of xi. or xii. 
 thousande mend. And of Englysshme' slayne and taken 
 prysoners vpon xii.c dyuers prysoners are taken of y e Scottes, 
 but noo notable person saue oonly Syr Wyllm' Scotte, 
 knyght, councellor of the sayde Kynge of Scottes, and, as is 
 sayd, a gentylma' well learned; also S'r John' Forma', 
 knyght, broder to the Bysshop of Murrey; which bysshop, 
 as is reported, was, and is, most pryncypal procurour of this 
 warre; and one other, called S'r John' Colehone. Many 
 other Scottysshe prysoners coude and myght haue been 
 taken, but they were soo vengeable and cruell in their fyght- 
 yngy, that whenne Englysshmen had the better of them 
 they wolde nat saue them, though it so were that dyuerse 
 Scottes offered great su'mes of money for theyr lyues. 
 
 " U It is to be noted, that the felde beganne betwene iiij. 
 and v. at after noone, and contynued within nyght. If it 
 had fortuned to haue ben further afore nyght many mo 
 scottes had ben slayne and taken prysoners. Louynge be to 
 Almyghty God, all the noble men of Englande that were 
 vpon the same felde, both lordes and knyghtes, are safe from 
 any hurte. And none of theym awantynge saue oonly 
 maister Harry Gray, syr Huinfeide Lyle, both prysoners in 
 Scotlande, Syr John' Gower, of Yorkeshyre, and syr John' 
 Boothe, of Lancasshyre, both wantynge, and as yet nat 
 founden. 
 
 1 ' U In this batayle the scottes hadde many great auaunta- 
 gies ; that is to wytte the hyghe hylles and mountaynes, a 
 
APPENDIX. <*337 
 
 great wynde with them,, and sodayne rayne, all contrary to 
 our bowes and archers. 
 
 " 1 It is nat to be doubted but the scottes fought manly, 
 and were determyned outher to wynne y e felde or to dye. 
 They were also as well apoynted as was possyble, at all 
 poynts, with armoure and harneys, so that fewe of them 
 were slayne with arrowes. Howbeit the bylles dyd bete and 
 hewe them down with some payne and daunger to englysshe- 
 men. 
 
 " The sayd scottes were so playnely determyned to abyde 
 batayle, and nat to flee, that they put from them theyr horses, 
 and also put of theyr bo'tes and shoes, and faught in the vampis 
 of theyr hooses, every man for the moost p'tie, with a kene 
 and sharpe spere of v yerdes longe, and a target afore hym. 
 And when theyr speres fayled and were all spent, then they 
 faught with great and sharpe swerdes, makynge lytell or no 
 noys withoue that, that for p'tie many of them wolde desyre 
 to be saued. 
 
 " 1 The felde where ye scottes dyd lodge was nat to be 
 reprouyed, but rather to be co'mended greatly, for there 
 many and great nombre of goodily tenttes, and moche good 
 stuffe in the same ; and in the sayd felde was plentie of 
 wyne, bere, ale, beif, mutton, salfysshe, and other vytalles, 
 necessary and conuenyent for suche a great army ; albeit our 
 armye, doutynge that the sayd vytalles hadde ben poysoned 
 for their distruccyon, wolde nat saue, but vtterly distroyed 
 them. 
 
 " ^ Hereafter cnsueth the names of suche noble men as, 
 after the felde, were made kynght, for theyr valyau'ce act, 
 in the same by my sayd lord therlc of Surrey. 
 " 1F Firste, my Lord Scrope, Sir John Hoothome. 
 
 of Upsall. Sir Nicholas Appleyarde. 
 
 Sir Will'm Percy. Sir Edwarde Goorgc. 
 
 Sir-Edmonde Ilowardc. Sir Rauf Ellercar ye yo'ger. 
 
 Sir George Darcy. Sir John Wyliyby. 
 
 Y 
 
338 APPENDIX. 
 
 Sir W. Gascoygne y e yo'ger. Sir Edwarde Echingh'me. 
 
 Sir Will'm Medlton'. Sir Edward Musgrau. 
 
 Sir Will'm Maleuerdy. Sir John' Stanley. 
 
 Sir Thomas Bartley. Sir Walter Stonner. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Costable y e Sir Wyuiane Martynfelde. 
 
 yo'ger. Sir Will'm Rous. 
 
 Sir X'p'ofer Dacre Sir Thomas Newton.' 
 
 Sir Raffe Bowes. Sir Roger of Fenwyke. 
 
 Sir Briane Stapelton', of Wyg- Sir Roger Gray. 
 
 hall. Sir Thomas Connyers. 
 
 Sir Guy Dawny. My Lord Ogle. 
 
 Sir Raffe Salwayne. Sir Thomas Strangewase. 
 
 Sir Richard Malleurey. Sir Henri Thiuaittes. 
 
 Sir Will'm Constable, of My Lorde Lumley. 
 
 Hatefeld. Sir X'p'ofer Pekerynge 
 
 Sir Will'm Constable, of Sir John Bulmer. 
 
 Larethorpe. " 1 Emprynted by me, Rich- 
 Sir X'p'ofer Danby. arde Faques, dwllyng in 
 Sir Thomas Burght. Paulys churche-yerde." 
 
 Charles V. to Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 " Mons r - le cardinal mon bon amy, j'ay receu vos l'res du 
 5 de ce mois, par les quelles et ce que mes ambasseurs mon 
 escript de v're part j'ay entendu v're bon conseil la bonne 
 
 soing et extimacion que pourtez de l'honneur et 
 
 scheurte de ma personne, ensemble la bonne affection et in- 
 clination, que vous avez touchant les traits et indissoluble 
 conjunction d'entre le roy, mon bon oncle, et raoy, dont je 
 vous remercie cordiallement. 
 
 " Et pour vous dire princement ma resolution com'e cellui 
 que je tiens pour mon bon et loyal amy et en qui j'ay ma 
 . . . comme povez bien cleremcnt a parceuvir, je vous ad- 
 vertis fra'chement que je suis delibcre de moyennant l'ayde 
 de Dieu fa' et execute' ceque j'ay entrcprise, et mesment d'y 
 
APPENDIX. 339 
 
 aller en ma personne, car je ne puis laisser ny difFertz pour 
 mon bien et Jionneux dainte le faire, et combien que je tiens 
 tres bons et . . . . fort tout ce que . . . serv'ce propos et 
 congruon que bon procede de bonne affection toutefois quand 
 nous aurons parler ensemble, et que aurez euy et entendu 
 mes raisons de ne faire .... que serez de mon advis et de- 
 meurrons bien co'te Tung de Flautre. 
 
 " Et pource comme j'aurex j'ay toujours . . . et pre- 
 feree l'alliance et . . . confedertion du roy mon bon oncle 
 sur toute lautres et fait encoures ainsi que pauvez bien 
 clerement cognog, d'autant que toutes choses sont si avant 
 approucheis, tant de v're part que de la myene, et a cet effect 
 pour y prendre meilleur et plus segeure conclusion, vous 
 m'avex toujours fait dire, que me voulez advertiz, d' la part 
 
 du dit p r roy mon bon oncle, d'aucune choses que 
 
 homme doit savoir n'y entendre que luy, vous et 
 
 moy ; lesquelles choses je ne faire doubte sont de si grande 
 importance, que . . . pourra etre Tung des principaules point 
 du fondement de noz affaires ; et aussi, de mon couste, je 
 vous ay fait dire que je suis delibere, pour la grande confi- 
 dance que j'ay en vous, de semblablement vous declarer tout 
 le fons de moy ceeur, aussi avant que je feroje a la propre 
 personne don sa roy mon oncle, et je me toujours ferme a 
 mon propos et ces causes a qu'il est impossible de scavoir 
 bien traiter vraiement ni serieusement des matieres que vous 
 scavoir, sans premicrement envers desmelle et desconnaest 
 l'ung a l'autre toutes ses grosses matieres. Je demeurc aussi 
 en ma resolution, que j'ay toujours desire, c'est de conclure 
 avcc vous moy mesmes, et user entierement de v're bon avis 
 et conseil, ct faire cela je feusse desire en mon arme, a ccs 
 causes, et que vous cognoissoit le grande dommage que cc 
 mest, de tant retardcr mes aff'res, lesquelles sont telz que ne 
 mc peuient souffrir plus grande dillacion, ct sous les choses 
 si tres avant que je no puis ni vouldroyt readier de cc que 
 j'ay entreprens, je vous prie sur tons los plaisers que une 
 
340 APPENDIX. 
 
 vouldreiz fer que vueillez avoir bon regard a ce que dessus. 
 Et pour y prendre la totale co'clusion, vous vouloir trouver a 
 Bruges dymanche prochain, jusques auquel jours je vous y 
 actendray combien que ce me soit grosse retarducien et me 
 ne laisse jamais pense si longue, car, sant point de fauete, il 
 me feroit ung dommange irreparable passer les jour ny se- 
 
 tendre plus avant ce que je suis ne vauldriz point, 
 
 et si me voulez comme bien li pouves fa . . , 
 
 et espert que ferez je ne faire mille doubte que vous et mois 
 aurant fait en deux ou trois jours au plus tard, car nous fe- 
 ront plus en ung jour vous et moy ensemblee, que ne fe- 
 roient mes ambassadeurs en ung mois, ostant qu'il ne fauldra 
 renvoyer de Tung a, l'autre, que feroit une grande perdicion 
 de temps, et aussi que par vos ex'es mes . . . que les fa roy 
 mon bon oncle et vous, estes delibere de besoignez et conclure 
 franchement avec moy, ce que je suis au semblable en bon vau- 
 loir fa', de ma part, comme le cognoissez par efFet, si a vous ne 
 tient, a ceste cause vous prie me faire ce plesir de . . . de v're 
 bonne intencion le plutot que pourry car si ne voulez venir 
 au dit jour, et que de ferer me venir truver plus loing comme 
 en mon camp je vous montreray mon armee par Iaquelle 
 cognoisstry que nay vouloir de dormir a l'ayde de Dieu et 
 de mes dons amis, et me ferez le bien venu, comme plus au 
 long je script a mes ambassadeurs pour le vous dire de ma 
 part ensemble de mes nouvelles pour ce que a vous comme 
 a mon bon ami j'entends ou nentement decFer et communi- 
 quer tous mes affres et accla je continueray de bien en mieux, 
 si plait a Dieu, auquel je prie, mons'r le cardinal mon mon 
 ami, que vous ait en sa garde. Escript a Escloz les Bruges 
 le d'Aoust 1521. 
 
 " V'rc bon ami, 
 
 " Charles." 
 
341 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 " Margaret Quene of Scotts Letter to my Lord Cardinal. 
 
 " My Lord Cardinal, I comende me hartely unto you, 
 and I have receyved yo r wtying, w 1 the articles subscribed 
 w l your hand ; whereunto I have made answer at length, in 
 al poynts ; and therfore I wil not be long to you in this 
 vv'tyng ; but I pray you hartely, my lord, to consider wel 
 the answere of yo* said articles ; and not to take so grete re- 
 gard as ye do by your w'tyng to my Lord of Angwisshe ; 
 which and ye do will put grete trouble in this realme, and 
 hable to put the king my sonne in his enemyes hands; 
 wherfor, seying that I and my partakers have put the king 
 my sonne out of the dangier that he was in, I thinke it 
 should be wel considered, and in such a sorte that Th'erle 
 of Angwysh shulde not be sent in this realme, and specially 
 by the king's grace my brother, which must be o r defendor 
 and helper, and shulde geve occasion to noblemen to take 
 the kynge my sonnes p'te and mine, beleving that therthrowe 
 to wynne his grac's favor, and wil cause them to be the bet- 
 ter myndede unto the kyng my sonne and me ; and gif his 
 grace will sonde me Therle of Angwishe, that is contrary 
 p'te to Therle of Arreyn, it will be occasion to hym to leve 
 the good p'te that he hath repcd, and to labor othcrways for 
 hymselfe, and all his friends, in danger of their ly ves, for the 
 weale of the kinge my sonne, and me. And if this shuld 
 not be lokcd upon, before the pleasure of Th'erle of An- 
 
 guishe, that did nev' stik stedc and to the king my 
 
 soone, nor may not do, suppose ye, my lord, by other wayes, 
 
342 APPENDIX. 
 
 I informed and geves trust to the same, as the articles berith 
 at length, not the lesse, my lord, I pray you, as my grete 
 trust is in you, that ye wil labor in that sorte for me, that 
 I and my partakers may be in a surety, that Th'erle of An- 
 gwishe shall not come in Scotland, as at more length th' ar- 
 ticles berys, and that with diligence I may be advertised of 
 the king's grace my brother's pleasure ; for while that I be 
 in suretie of sike matiers as I have written, I trust the am- 
 bassadors shal not be sped, for my partakers thinkith that 
 gif they labor for the pleasure of-the king's grace my brother, 
 that on his side he shuld shewe kyndnes to theym afore any 
 Scottishman, after the king my sonne. Praying you, ther- 
 fore, my lorde, to gyve good counsaile to the king's grace 
 my brother, and to let me have answer incontinentlie, for 
 the furtherying of all matiers, and God have you in his 
 kepying. Written the 6th day of October, at Edynburgh. 
 
 " The Copie of my Lord Cardinal? s L'res, sent to the Lord 
 Dacre of the Northe. 
 " After right affectuous recommendations, my lorde, 
 though I have recey ved no l'res from you sens myne arry vail 
 on this side the see ; ne yet, as I am informed, ye have not 
 advertised the kyng's highnes eyther of the state of his 
 bord'os of the demeann' of the Scotts, sens my departying 
 oute or of England ; yet the king's highnes hath now of late 
 signified unto me, that credible reaporte is made unto hym 
 howe the Scotts have not onely made dyv'se & many exc'sis 
 in North'mb'land, by brennyng certeyn villagis, takyng sun- 
 dry p'soners, and dryvyng away moche cattell and shipe, but 
 also that great preparacion is made in Scotland for the com- 
 yng of the Duke of Albany thider; and rememberyng 
 yo r olde accustumable proudent demeano r as well in the at- 
 teyning assuird knowledge of the intended purpose of the 
 Scotts, from tymc to tyme, by such good csp'icll and intelli- 
 
APPENDIX. 343 
 
 gence that ye have had amongs the said Scotts, as of the 
 bruits and newes occ'rant amongs theym, it is the more mer- 
 vailed, that if eyther any such attemptats have been made 
 by the said Scotts upon the king's subjects, or that any such 
 bruits be in Scotland of the said duke's thider comyng, that 
 ye have not advertised the king's highnes or me therof be- 
 fore this tyme ; wherfor I thought ryght expedient, not onely 
 to put you in remembraunce therof, so that ye may w* all 
 diligence advertise me howe every thing hath proceeded 
 there duryng myue absence out of the realme; to the 
 intent I may at my comyng to the king's presence, which, 
 God willing, I shal be w l in brief tyme, ascertayne his high- 
 nes therin, wherof to here his grace is moche desirous, but 
 also to notifie unto you what I have herde of the transport- 
 yng of the said Duke of Albany into Scotland ; w* myne 
 advise & counsaile what is expedient and necessary to do, 
 upon the same ; trowthe it is that credible reaporte hath 
 been made unto me nowe of late, that the said duke is not 
 onely passed, or shall shortely passe oute of Fraunce into Scot- 
 land, w* the nombre of two or thre thousand men of warre,but 
 also hath made great & instant labo r in the courte of Rome, 
 for a divorce to be had and made for seperacion of the mariage 
 betwixt the Quene of Scotts and Therle of Anguisshe, in- 
 tendyng to marye w* the said quene, wherunto it is said she 
 is agreable, and that the same duke intendeth to aspir' to the 
 crowne of Scotlande ; whiche he cannot atteyne unlesse he 
 destroye the yong king, and if th' p'misses be of trouth, as 
 by many co jectures it is in great apparence, right necessary 
 it is, that ye not only make diligent espiell in Scotland, for 
 assurd knowledge to be had of the p'misses, but also notifie 
 the same to Therle of Anguisshe, the Humes, and such 
 others as by the comyng of the said duke into Scotland shal 
 be put in danger of their lyves and lands, so that they may 
 make their p'tie good and puissant to stoppc and lette the 
 damnable & abhominable purpose of the said duke. It is 
 
344 APPENDIX. 
 
 verely thought, that in case the said detestible intente & 
 mynde of the said duke were published in Scotland it shulde 
 provoke the nobles & comons agenste hym, wherby he 
 mought be put in danger at his first comyng ; and to the 
 intent the said bruite may be made in Scotland upon true 
 grounds, I ascerteyne you for a trouth, that the French 
 kyng nowe of late shewd unto Th'erle of Worcest'r, the 
 kyng's chamburlayn, and the Bishop of Ely, that the said duke 
 not only intendeth, in coverte man' to passe into Scotland, but 
 also hath labored to purchase the said divorce for mareing 
 the quene, suspectyng therby the danger of the said yong 
 kyng. And albeit the said duke could not departe oute of 
 Fraunce w^ute the p'mission & sufferance of the French 
 kyng, yet it is in appearance that he dissemblith ther'in. I 
 am also adv'tised, by the kyng's orato r , from the courte of 
 Rome, that the same divorce is instantly pursued by the 
 Duke of Albany ther — in consideration wherof ye have good 
 and probable grounds to instructe as well the said Erie of 
 Anguisshe as the Homes, and other nobles of Scotland, suche 
 as ye shall think good, that this is the onely purpose of the 
 same duke's comying into Scotland. And that he bringeth 
 his men of warre with hym, not for the defence of that land, 
 but only to destroy the said erle, and other nobles, that 
 wollde resist and lette hym in th'achy vying of this his dam- 
 nable mynde & enterp'se, whiche he knoweth well can nev' 
 be brought to passe, onlesse the said erle and his adherents 
 be subduyed. Wherfor ye may p'suade unto the said erle, 
 the Homes, and others, that if they tender the salvegard of 
 their p'nce, if they love their lyves, lands, & succession, they 
 must w l all diligence possible, like valiant and noble men, 
 put themselves in readynes, w* all their friends strength 
 and puissance, to p'serve theymself & subdue their mortal 
 cnenaye ; for surely, if they loke not substancially thcrunto, 
 both the yong kyng, they, and all the nobilitie of Scotland, 
 shal be in greate danger. And yc may say, that, inasmochc 
 as the Kyng of Scotts, bcyng the kyng's ncvewe, shall by 
 
APPENDIX. 34$ 
 
 suche practises peryshe, and his sister the 'queen be disho- 
 nored and lost therby for ever, ye doabte not but his high- 
 nes in this their laudable and vertuous querell woll favo r ^ 
 aide, and assiste them, encouragyng theym w 1 such good 
 words, vehement bruits, & co'fortable p'suasion, to stire and 
 excite, not onely theym, but also the nobles and comons of 
 Scotland, ageynst the said duke, wherby either he shal be in 
 danger at his comyng to Scotland, or els be exterminate from 
 thens for ev\ And if the some of x or xii m marks were 
 politiquely spent, to set this division in Scotland, and to 
 provoke the indignation of the nobles and subjects agenst 
 the said duke, in myne opynion it shulde be well emploied, 
 consideryng the greate effects and good consequent that theroi 
 may ensue, wherby greate somes of money may therby be saved, 
 as ye wel know : the p'misses considered, I right hartely desire 
 & pray you, after your accustomable prudent & politique man', 
 not onely to set furth theis practises w* all spedie diligence, 
 but also to adv'tise me w l semblable diligence what ye shall 
 and may do therein, wherby ye do m'vailous greate pleasure 
 and s'vice to the kyng's highness, moch redoundyng to his 
 honor and the suretie of his realme, assuryng you, that 
 whatsoever ye shall promyse, lay oute, or coven'nte wt the 
 said nobles, kepying yo r self w*in the bonds of the said somes, 
 till ye may adv'tise me of your said further advise, it shalbe 
 surely contented and paid unto you, requirying you to do 
 effectual diligence therein." 
 
 Gawin Douglas, Bishop of Dunkeld, to Cardinal Wolscy. 
 
 From the Cottonian Library, Caligula, B. VI., No U7. 
 Orthography altered to modern Scotch by J. G. 
 
 £1 publish this spirited letter of a celebrated poet, in con- 
 trast with the base applications of other Scotchmen.]] 
 
 " Please your Grace, my chaplain, whilk was yesterday at 
 your presence, shews me, that Gait, the secretary of the 
 
346 APPENDIX 
 
 duke of Albany, has said to your grace, that I promist not 
 to come within this realm ; and wherefore, of his master's 
 behalf, beseacht your grace to withhold me herein, and let 
 me pass no farther. My lord, I believe your high wisdom 
 will not give credence so lightly against me ; and specialie 
 to the Duke of Albany, or any of his servands, whilk is capi- 
 tal and deadly enemy to me and all my house. And, there- 
 fore, it is no wonder albeit he say sik things for my harm, 
 whilk divers times, and yet daily, hath said and done all 
 that he may or can imagine to my destruction, and extermi- 
 nation of all my kin. And, as I shall answer to God and 
 your grace, the contrare of it he said, is plain writ ; for, both 
 by messenger and writin, I declarit how plainlie I would 
 pass though this realm, and no other way ; and gart shew 
 him what day I had appointed to enter in your ground of 
 England ; the whilk I kept trulie. And this your grace 
 may consider what favour he has to me, or how I should be 
 entreated, if I was in Scotland, under his subjection ; or 
 when, if I past to France, or any other part where he may 
 solicit any thing, when he is so bold within this realm 
 (wherein I trust he has little credence), as for to solicit 
 your grace to my hurt. Albeit you have grantit me, the 
 king's highness, safe conduct, the which, I trust, I shall not 
 forfeit, nor yet your grace will suffer to be taken from me. 
 Beside this the matter is precious, if any kirkman should be 
 stoppet gangand to Rome, for his lawful defence on summon 
 thither, as, nevertheless, your grace knows full well, I may 
 be lightly entretit to remain here, but no ways at his com- 
 mand nor desire; and full well I wat your high wisdom 
 knows what is to be done on any service to sik a pretention 
 mickle better nor I, and many sik, can imagine. Albeit, if 
 it might stand with your pleasure, I would bespeak your 
 grace to answer to this Gait ; that, if the duke, his master, 
 will be content my action and matter be remetit forth from 
 Home to your grace, and before your arbitration, whereof I 
 would be glad, your grace should cause me remain ? and al- 
 
APPENDIX. 347 
 
 so, why or how should you hold me frae my lawful defence, 
 whilk is of the law of nature ; speeialie I having the king's 
 safe conduct to pass, as said is ? This is my little case, under 
 correction of your grace, whom I beseach to pardon this my 
 so homely writing ; and the Holy Trinitie have your grace 
 in lessit and .... keeping. At London, this new 
 year's day, subcrevit with the hand of 
 
 " Your humble beedsman, 
 
 " Gawn of Dunkeld." 
 
 T. Magnus to Cardinal Wolsey, on Scottish Affairs. 
 " Pleas it your grace to be adv'tissed, that by my letter of 
 the secunde daye of this moneth, I ascertayned your saide 
 grace of suche ymmynent daungers, troubles, and gret va* 
 riaunces, as were right nigh at hand, betwene the quenes 
 grace here, and other the lordes ; that is, to wite, tharch- 
 bisshop of Saint Andrewes, the bisshop of Aburdyne, w l son- 
 dery other bisshps, therles of Anguysshe, Argile, Leneux, 
 and many other erles and barrons of this realme, as by the 
 copies of thair l'res, and of thair proclamacons, I doubte not 
 at large it did appere. Soe it was, as thenne I wroote unto 
 your said grace, the saide lordes, assembled and convened at 
 Sterling, on Monday the xj th daye of this saide moneth, be- 
 twene whoom and the quenes saide grace many messags have 
 paste for the pacifying of the variaunces and debates betwene 
 thaym concernyng the preservacon of the yong king here in 
 his good health, educacon, and good gov'ance, in this his 
 tendre age, the rule and ordering of this his realme, w e due 
 admynistracon of justice, a directe orde r to be had for the 
 bringing ynn of the revenues of his possessions, for the 
 maynten'nce of his estate and dignitye royall, and for a good 
 peas, to be had betwene Englande and Scotlandc. And, for 
 so myche as the saide lordes suppoosed by thair l'rts directe 
 to the quenes grace, it was right paynfull and troublous to 
 send from tymc to tymc soe farr as betwene Edinburgh and 
 
348 APPENDIX. 
 
 and Sterling ; thay therfore, and for the moore comodyte of 
 the causes in controversy, repared to a toune called Dal- 
 keeth, wtynne onn myles of this toune, upon Thursday 
 
 " And, for the debating and repressing of the attemptats 
 com'itte by the said lordes, the quenes grace was mynded, 
 and procured, that the therles of Arren, Murray, Eglington, 
 and Cassilles, w l other lordes, reparing hider for the kinggs 
 surety, shulde give bataill to the other lordes and party. 
 Howe be it, upon counsaille and advice taken by thaym, 
 they made aunswer to the quenes saide grace, they sawe noe 
 cause why thay shulde soe doe, oonles the kinggs grace here 
 shuld goe furthe in his onne p'son, and that any his subjects 
 wolde invade his said grace as if a foe were, than wold to the 
 uttermooste of thair powers defend hym, as their soveraine 
 lorde and maister, and elles thay wolde not in any wise at- 
 tempte any. thing ageinste the other party by hostilite of 
 warre. The quenes grace, being mynded that the king her 
 sonne shulde not passe from oute of her custody and keping, 
 inaventure his grace shulde not retorne unto her ageine, 
 wolde not agree to the requests and mynds of the saide 
 lordes; but saide she was content that, for sorayche as a 
 grete part of this variaunce proceded betwene her grace and 
 therle of Anguysshe, she was content therynne, and in other 
 causes, to stande to the ord r and arbitrement of the saide 
 lordes, on the kinggs party and hers. Wherupon her grace 
 sent for me, and, after myche comyunycacon, some parte 
 pleasaunt, and some parte to the contrary, it was not possi- 
 ble she shulde be better mynded and inclyned thenne she 
 was at that tyme, to accepte therle of Anguysshe to her gra- 
 cious favo r , for the better relieff of her causes in controversy. 
 Notw^tanding, the morrowe after all was torncd to the con- 
 trary, booth concernyng the promysc made to the saide 
 lordes and the comynnycacon had betwene the quenes grace 
 and me, as is afore saide, w c suchc mancr and wordes as I 
 
APPENDIX. 349 
 
 think not convenient to be written ; and, as the case requir- 
 ed, I gave but convenient hearring to the same. 
 
 " And, because these matiers were of gret ymportaunce, 
 diverse and sondery tyraes I offered, that my lorde of Cassilles 
 and I m ought have goon to have spoken wt the lordes of the 
 other party, for the better pacefying of all causes, and spe'al- 
 ly the quenes grace wolde not I shulde goe, though therles 
 of Arren and Cassilles on her party, and thoder lordes on the 
 other party, required the same. 
 
 " These causes and matiers thus depending in controversy, 
 w'oute order for reducing of thaym to any good conclusion, 
 it was devised and agreed, Cassilles, the bishop of Rosse, 
 and the lorde Maxwell, should mete w t tharchbisshop of 
 Saint Andrewes, the bisshop of Aburdyne, therle of Argile, 
 and the other lordes of the other party and their counsaill, 
 as, s r Will" 1 Scott and other, at Dalkeeth aforesaide, on Sa- 
 turdaye laste ; and soe thay did, and accorded right well to- 
 gader. Howe be it, whenne the quenes party came hoome 
 her grace woolde not agre to the comynnycacon, and suche 
 ordo r as was devised betwene the lordes. 
 
 " On Sondaye next after newe messingers on the quenes 
 party were sent to the saide lordes, to moove unto thaym, 
 that her grace was content thay shuld repaire and come 
 hider, to trete, speke, and com'yn of the causes in contro- 
 versy, soe that thay wolde agre and consent that noe thing 
 shulde be doon to the demynuicon of her autoritc, grauntcd 
 unto her grace in the laste p'liament, or dies that thay wolde 
 consent and agree, that, where as the saide p'liament was 
 proroged and contynucd to the xx th day of this moncth, hit 
 shulde clerely* for this ty me be dissolved, ccssatc, and an- 
 nulled. Whercunto the saide lordes, considering thcr ar 
 sondery thinggs besides the quenes saide autoritc, concern- 
 yng the wcall and surety of the yong king, and of this his 
 rcalmc, to be refourmed, aunsuer also to be n tourncd to 
 thair amines' in Englande, by the consent of the gret and 
 
350 APPENDIX. 
 
 mooste discrete counsaillour of this realme, wolde not accoorde 
 nor agre in anywise. Wherupon, th'erles of Arren, Mur- 
 ray, Eglynton, and Cassilles, the lorde Maxwell, Dan Carre 
 of Cesforth, and Marke Carre, conveyed thair s'unts from 
 thaym, and went into the castell to the king and the quene ; 
 every of thaym taking w l thaym oon or twoe s'unts at the 
 mooste, and ther contynue. 
 
 " The officers of this toune, w* the inhabitants of the 
 same, sent woorde to the lordes, that thay shulde come hider 
 and be welco'm unto, and furthwith sette thair yets open, 
 being afore barred and nightly kept w* watche and warde. 
 And soone after mydnight therle of Angusshe and the erle 
 of Leneux came into this toune, w l vi or vij hondreth men, 
 all at thair pleasurs, and soe did take thair lodgings, and 
 went to thair rests. The residue of thair men, as is saide to 
 the noumber of twoe thousande, remaynned wt the bishops, 
 erls, and other the lordes, at Dalkeeth ; the same men being 
 for the moost parte, as is reapoorted, landed men, men of 
 good honesty, and househoolde men, well chosen and well 
 horsed. Yesterdaye, ageinste night, the saide lordes, and 
 other thair company afore saide, came hider, and logged 
 themselves in this toune, and nigh therunto, as thay maye 
 wtoute the daunger of gunne shotte from oute of the castell, 
 and intende to kepe the p'liament for the weall of the yong 
 king and of this his realme ; and, as farre as in anywise I 
 canne conceive, for a peas to be betwene Englande and Scot- 
 lande ; wherof I assure your grace I see moore apperaunce 
 hider towarde thenne of the quenes party, considering in 
 my poor mynde her counsallo r to be moor of the ffrensh 
 facc'on thenne thay be to the favor of Englande ; and yet a 
 gret parte of the quenes counsaill be moor inclyned to Eng- 
 lande thenne to Fraunce. 
 
 " The quenes grace of late hath been mychc desirous to a 
 devorce and dep'ting to be had betwene her saide grace and 
 therle of Anguysshc, and hath made many mcancs for the 
 
APPENDIX. 351 
 
 same purpoose, insomycbe that right lately her grace being 
 content to have famylier comynnycacon w* me, shewed she 
 wolde be content to geve to the sede erle, of her landes « * 
 m'rks scottishe yerely, to suche tyme as her grace shulde ad- 
 vaunce some oon of his frends to * * marks of spec'al pro- 
 moc'on, soe that there shulde be noe further intermeddling 
 betwene thaym, but the oon to be discharged of the other; 
 yet, nevertheless the quenes grace even now maketh secret 
 moc'ons, after a better and more godly manner, to the saide 
 erle, wherunto I am moost privea, I pray God her grace 
 wolbe of good p'severaunce, and thenne I woll not doubte 
 but other thinggs shall myche the better come to the kinggs 
 high purpoos and yours. 
 
 '* Within iiij or v dayes moore, certaine knowledge wolbe 
 had to what effecte this trouble and busynes woll ensewe, 
 and furthwith I shall advertise your grace of the same, by 
 the help of Almighty God, who evermoore have yo r saide 
 grace in his mooste blessed preservac'on. At Edinburgh, the 
 xviijth daye of February. 
 
 " Your mooste homble prieste and bedeman, 
 
 " T. Magnus." 
 
 QThis letter furnishes a favourable specimen of the force 
 and affluence of the Cardinal's style, the comprehension of 
 his mind, the justness of his ideas, and the vigour of his in- 
 tentions. J. G-3 . 
 
 From Cardinal Wolsey to the King's Ambassadors with 
 the Emperor. 
 
 " Mr Sampson and Mr Jermyngham, I commend me unto 
 you in my most right hearty manner. Since the arrival here 
 of Mr Boleyn, by whom the kings grace hath been adver- 
 tised of the state wherein the emperor's matters and affaires 
 stood as his departing, is also come hither Mons r de Beaw- 
 rayn, sent by the sayd emperor with letters to the kings 
 
352 APPENDIX. 
 
 grace and me, and also with two instructions ; one concern- 
 ing such matters as he had to be spoken of here, and the 
 other touching certain benefices to be by him done with the 
 duke of G * * a * * e ; the effect of both which instructions 
 were taken out and translated into English, and the abstracts 
 of the same, for your better knowledge and understands, I 
 send unto you herewith. I receyved also, by the sayd Bea- 
 wrayn, the letters of you, Mr Sampson, to me directed, the 
 effect whereof I shewed unto the kings grace, who, as well 
 for your diligent writings at that time, as for other your 
 former advertisements, giveth unto you speciall thanks, like 
 as I do the semblable, for my parte. And for as much as, 
 by the sayd two abstracts, yee shall amply and fully under- 
 stand the charge which was co'mitted to Monsr de Beawrayn 
 by the two instructions,* I shall, therefore, refer you there- 
 unto for your knowledge in that behalfe, advertising you 
 that, inasmuch as the sayd Beawrayn might not we would 
 make any manner abode here, saying that he must be with 
 the sayd duke, at the place prefixed, by the latter end of 
 this monthe; a memorial, therefore, was given unto him, 
 of certain things which he should doe there on the kings be- 
 halfe, till such season as doctor Knight, being ambassiate 
 with the lady Margarett, and, consequently, well on his 
 way, might with co'mission and instruction, sent unto him 
 in diligence, repaire also to the same place, there to be pre- 
 sent at the diett and treaty with the sayd duke for the kings 
 parte ; which co'mission and instruction, incontinently after 
 the departure of the said Mons r dc Beawrayn, were made 
 and sent unto D r Knight ; the copy whereof, and also of the 
 memorial, in Latyne, given to Beawrayn, yee shall receive 
 at this time, soe that, by all the sayd copies, yee shall know 
 and undcrstandc the whole proccssc of every thing which 
 
 Sec the instructions from the king. 
 
APPENDIX. 353 
 
 hath been devised, concluded, and done by the kings grace 
 and his counsaile in this behalfe, and how ready and inclined 
 his highness is to every such thing as may sound to the fur- 
 therance, benefit, and advancemen 1 of the co'mon enterprises 
 and affaires. And, in case either the sayd Mons r de Bea- 
 wrayn, or the emperors ambassr here resident, had had any 
 co'mission or instruction to have treated and concluded with 
 the kings grace, upon the nombers, place, tyme, and other 
 epecialties concerning the advancement of armies, on either 
 side against Ffrance, this summer, and for the putting over 
 of the p'sonall invasion, the same had also been fully con- 
 cluded and agreed ; nevertheless, all possible diligence is 
 used here for preparation, and putting every thing in per- 
 fect readines, that shall be requisite for the army to be sent 
 out of this realme into Ffrance, soe as, incontinently upon 
 knowledge had from you that the emperor hath concluded a 
 treaty for that purpose, and that yee se reall and effectuall 
 execution of the same, and advancement forward on that 
 side, the kings army, withoute tracte of tyme or delay, shall 
 be in diligence transported, soe to procecde according to the 
 convenc'ons and agreements which shall be passed by you in 
 that behalfe. Wherefore, yee shall diligently procure and 
 solicite th' emperor to accelerate his resolution therein, if it 
 be not done already, as I trust verily it is before this tyme, 
 and your letters, dispa'ched hitherwards, contayneing an- 
 swere of the same, which, for the more suretie, yee may du- 
 plicate, soe as, for lack of knowledge from thence, if any 
 misadventure should happen to your first letters, the king's 
 grace should not remaine destitute and unprovided of an- 
 swere touching the emperor's mynd in the p'misses, without 
 which no fruitful thing, except preparation, can be done, 
 either concerning invasion to be made this yearc, as is afore- 
 sayd, neither also th' effectual execution of the treaty to be 
 passed with the sayd duke. And what the kings grace hath 
 resolved and done touching the charge of Bcawrayn, yee be- 
 
 z 
 
354 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing now sufficiently instructed by the said copies, shall, with 
 the kings most cordiall and my most humble reco'menda- 
 c'ons, shew and declare unto th' emperor, with such doubt- 
 ful points as concerne de la Moer, and other suspicions which 
 might arise in this matter, as the thing which, though it be 
 not very apparent, yet the kings grace, who tendreth th' em- 
 peror's honor and weale as much as his owne, would not 
 p'termitt to advertise his majesty of any matter that might 
 be doubtful and dangerous unto his affaires. 
 
 * " Over this, yee shall shew unto the emperor that, upon 
 safe conduct desired by the king of Denmark, and to him 
 graunted, he, with the quene his wife, and 100 persons in 
 their company, be lately aryved here; when the kings grace, 
 as well for the honor of his highnes, and of this his realme, 
 as for the allyance which is with the sayd king, by reason of 
 the queene his wife, hath, for th' emperors and her love and 
 honor, more than for any demonstrac'on of kindness hereto- 
 fore shewed by the king of Denmark towards the kings grace 
 and this realme, hath receyved and entertayned, in the best 
 manner, at the kings charges and expences, from their ar- 
 ryval at Calays forward ; since whose coming to the kings 
 presence at Greenwiche, where they were for a season lodged 
 and feasted, and also since their coming to London, where 
 they now be, at Bathes place, all at the kings cost, as afore- 
 said, I have, on the kings behalfe, had sundry occas'ons 
 with the sayd king of Denmark, upon the cause and occasion 
 of his coming hither, perceiving, in effect, by him, that the 
 crowne of the realme of Denmark is not descended unto him 
 by rightfull succession of inheritance, but by elecc'on, as it 
 hath alwayes been accustomed, -f- the prerogative and juris- 
 
 * The following contains the opinion of the Cardin.il and the 
 English government on one of the most remarkable incidents of the 
 age of Henry VIII. 
 
 + The constitution of Denmark. 
 
APPENDIX. 355 
 
 diction of which elecc'on resteth in certain speciall persons 
 of the same realme, who, at the request of the late king of 
 Denmark, father to this man, passed th' elecc'on of him, in 
 his fathers dayes, to succede in the sayd kingdom after his 
 tyme, with certaine conditions, whereunto they astringed and 
 bound him, for the nonobservance and violation, it should 
 be lawful to the same elisors to departe from his obeysance : 
 which elecc'on so passed, having, the late old king of Den- 
 mark, at that time another son, and being, this king, at the 
 time of his said elecc'on, but of xij yeares of age, was, by the 
 ffathers persuation, after the death of the sayd other sonne, 
 ratified and confirmed.* Howbeit the sayd king affirmeth, 
 that the condic'ons were more strange than had been accus- 
 tomed to be used in other prinses dayes, whereunto he, in 
 that mynority, was nevertheless obliged and bounden, and 
 that, for such matters as the said elisors, with other his sub- 
 jects, doe alleage against him, sounding to the rupture and 
 breach, as they say, of the sayd condic'ons, albeit he was, 
 and is contented, if he can be found defective in the same, to 
 reforme and amend any thing by him passed ; yet, neverthe- 
 les, partly by counsaile of the Duke of Holston, and partly 
 by the instigation of the Steds, enemies to the sayd king, the 
 sayd elisors have abandoned him, and elected his uncle, the 
 sayde duke of Holston, who, with the puissance of his ad- 
 herents, soe proceeded against the said king, that, if he had 
 not fledd with his wife and children, he and they should (as 
 he sayeth) not only have been put in danger of their persons, 
 but also he had lost his shipps, ordnance, goods, and sub- 
 stance, for which cause he withdrewe himselfe, first towards 
 th' emperor's sayd Low Countries, and nowe into Englande, 
 to require, demand, and aske of th' emperor, and the kings 
 grace, as well help and assistance, as also advise and coun- 
 
 Thc origin of the Danish revolution. 
 
356 APPENDIX. 
 
 saile. And this is the very cause and manner of his repaire 
 hither at this time. Whereupon the kings highnes, for the 
 neere connection which the sayd king of Denmark hath with 
 th' emperor by marriage of his sister, who is a princesse full 
 of good vertues and manners, and whom the kings grace, as 
 well for th' emperors sake as for her noble qualities, right 
 much doth tender andregarde, hath at good length debated and 
 devised upon this matter with me, and other of his counsaile, 
 to whom it is thought right strange * that the king of Den- 
 mark (as he affirmeth) having divers other great patrymo- 
 nies, countries, and places of his inheritance, and otherwise 
 faithfull, sure, and true to him, who will at all tymes take 
 his parte, ane receyve and obey him as their sovereign lord 
 (the names of which countries and places be menc'oned in a 
 bill here inclosed), would thus sodainly departe into remote 
 and strange parts, whereby the more courage and boldnes 
 might be given to his adversaries and enemies, both to per- 
 sist in their displeasant mynds towards him, and also to pro- 
 voke other of his loving subjects to their devot'on and par- 
 tie : whereas, by his presence and ostentation of himselfe, 
 they might percase with good pollicy and ayde of his loving 
 subjects, have been the more facily vanquished and subdued, 
 or, at the least, induced to have changed their purpose. 
 
 " For which cause, upon good deliberation, and often con- 
 versac'ons by me had with the sayd king of Denmarke, I 
 have advised and counsailed him, in any wise to repaire 
 again, with diligence, to such of the sayd countries and 
 places remaining in his obeysance, as he shall think expe- 
 dient, making his demore and continuance there, for pro- 
 curing and labouring such things as may be most beneficial 
 to the recovery of the good wills and mynds of the sayd eli- 
 sors, lords, and subjects of Denmark, and the reconciliation 
 of him unto his enemies. To the furtherance whereof, it is 
 
 * Very sensible conduct of England on this occasion. J. G. 
 
APPENDIX. 357 
 
 thought that th' emperor, of good congruence and kindness, 
 and the kings grace, for gratuity and love, shall put their 
 hands by good mediac'on, sending ambassadors and letters, 
 both unto the sayd elisors, duke of Holston, and other lords 
 of Denmark, which may labour them to resume and take 
 again their said kyng, who is contented not only to reforme 
 all such things, if any be, as they thinke him to have done 
 contrary to the sayd condic'ons, wherein the kings grace will 
 take upon him and be bound as his suretie, that he should 
 soe doe ; but, also, will utterly remitt and forgive any dis- 
 pleasure or attempt which they or his subjects have enter- 
 piised, done, or com'itted against him in this his expulsion 
 and new election. And, furthermore, meanes may be made 
 to the said Steds, who have great priviledges and liberties in 
 the emperors and kings regions, that at their contemplation, 
 and for their sakes, they will cease from any hostility, war, 
 or rancor, against the sayd king, and some amiable composi- 
 tion to be made in the differences depending between them. 
 All which devise the kings grace w T ill cause his ambassadors, 
 resident at the court of Rome, to shew unto the pope's holy- 
 ness, to th' intent that the same also may send his breves and 
 writings, both to the sayd duke of Holsten, elisors, and other 
 of Denmarke, and also to the Steds, for this purpose ; with 
 which ambass r expedient it shall be that th' emperors ana- 
 bass 1 doe alsoe joine therein ; soe that it is verily trusted 
 that th' emperor putting his hands effectually hereunto, as 
 of reason and kindnes he must needs doe, the proximity of 
 bloud and faire succession descended betweene the said king 
 and queene considered, this matter may yet be reduced and 
 brought, with labor, help, and pollicy, into good trayne, and 
 the sayd king, with Gods grace, by loving and faire meanes, 
 restored to his kingdomc, without further violence, warr, or 
 effusion of bloud, which waye is meete and expedient to be 
 first attempted, and noe further hostilitie to be raised or 
 stirred, in 'xpendurc, if it be possible. Nevertheless, if the 
 
358 APPENDIX. 
 
 same shall in no wise doe profitt or availe unto him, but 
 that the Danes and Steds shall remaine obstinate and in 
 p'nacity, without conforming themselves to good order and 
 reason, then further direction may be taken, for assistance 
 to be given unto the sayd king, as wel by the kings grace 
 and th' emperor, as by such other princes of Almayne, and 
 elsewhere, as be his confederates, lovers, and freends. Where- 
 fore yee, shewing and declaring the p'misses, shall procure 
 and solicite depeche of such p'sonages and writings as he will 
 send for this purpose, which command'mcnt to be given to 
 his orator at Rome, to joine with the kings ambassador, as 
 is aforesayd ; in which meane time as much shall be done 
 by the kings grace as may be possible, for it is a thing farr 
 discrepant from good order, reason, or congruence, that a 
 prince shall thus, by the wilfulness of his lords and com- 
 mons, be expelled and put from his crowne, upon any griev- 
 ances by them pretended, specially not being the matters 
 first shewed and objected unto him, and his answere heard 
 upon the same ; ascertaining you that the sayd king, accept- 
 ing marvailous thankfully, and in good parte, this good ad- 
 vice and counsaile, the circumstances whereof I have caused 
 to be put in articles in Latine, which he singularly liketh, 
 is mynded, within four or five daies, to departe, with the 
 queene his wife, towards Flanders, where his shippes be in 
 rigging, soe to proceede further according to the sayd device ; 
 praying you, therefore, to ascertayne me of the emperors an- 
 swere and resolution herein, and in all other the p'misses, 
 with diligence, as the kings special trust is in you. 
 
 " Post scripta. — Letters be arrived, as well from the bi- 
 shop of Bathe, being the kings ambassador at Rome, dated 
 there the third day of the last moneth, as also from Mr 
 Pace, dated at Venice the first day of the same, the copies of 
 which letters, for your better knowledge and information, I 
 send you with these presents ; by tenor whereof you shall 
 among other things, perceive, how, upon the attachment of 
 
APPENDIX. 359 
 
 the cardinall Sodormo, the Ffrench king hath revoked his 
 ambassadors^ which were on their way towards the popes 
 holiness, and that in the court of Rome is neither com'ission 
 nor person deputed for the sayd Ffrench king, to treate 
 either of peace or truce ; soe as there is noe manner likeli- 
 hood, apparence, or towardness, that any thing may or shall, 
 at this time, be further done therein, or that the emperor 
 and the kings grace shall ground or establish their com'on 
 matters thereupon, but substantially to foresee and provide 
 for all such things as may concerne the most effectual anoy- 
 ance of the com'on enemie. Ye shall further p'ceive by the 
 sayd copies, that expectation is to be had of the pope's holy- 
 nes, who in noe wise will be induced to condiscend unto 
 any treatie offensive against France, respiting also upon the 
 successes of the affaires at Venice, to declare and shew his 
 resolute mynde, touching his entering into a league defen- 
 sive, which wil be the most that he can be induced unto, 
 and that not without difficultie ; for which cause, expedient 
 it shall be that the king and th' emperor, without further 
 tract of time, doe with diligence furnish, provide, and look 
 unto their busines, and in suchwise to presse the Ffrench 
 king earnestly, and not with small prickings, which, as it 
 appeareth, he doth little esteeme, that he may be constrained 
 and enforced otherwise to himself, then hitherto he doth be- 
 gin. In which matter ye shall declare and shew unto the 
 emperor the kings opinion, consisting in two material points. 
 The first and greatest thing considered by his grace and his 
 counsaile is, that, rememb'ring th' untowardnes and obsty- 
 nacie of the sayd Ffrench king, it is now thought expedient, 
 by all the meanes and wayes possible, to accelerate the p'sonal 
 invasion ; and, for that purpose, to devise how in anywise it 
 may be fesible, as well by forbearing and sparing other par- 
 ticular charges, which might sound to the delay and im- 
 peachment thereof, as otherwise ; for better it shall be once 
 to annoy the com'on enemy with great puissances, which he 
 
360 APPENDIX. 
 
 should not be able to resist, whereby he may be driven to 
 offer and come unto reasonable conditions, than thus, by 
 dryving the time by little and little, to waste and consume 
 treasure, and, in conclusion, no good effect to come thereof : 
 wherefore, if th' emperor and king's grace might be furnished 
 with money, treasure, and other requisites for a mayne and 
 great invasion to be made in their owne p'sons, the sooner 
 the same were done, and put in execution, the rather the 
 com'on enemy e should be brought and compelled to speak 
 of another time, and percase some great and notable victory 
 might thereof ensue, to their great honour and profits. Ne- 
 vertheles, if, for lack of furniture of money and treasure, th' 
 emperor and the kings grace should not inow doe the same 
 in their owne p'sons, the next som'er in the yeare next fol- 
 lowing, by which time it shalbe seene what the Ffrench king 
 will further doe touching peace ; then, it is thought, a way 
 might be taken for making of an expedition by lieut'ents, the 
 same to invade in such places, taking the yeare before them, 
 and with such fforce and puissance as some notable effect 
 might ensue thereof, and th' enemy enforced to knowledge 
 himselfe : the debating and devising of which matters, by 
 com'on consent, might, in the residue of this summer and 
 the next winter, be practised, com'enced, and concluded, soe 
 that, at the beginning of the next yeare, the same might be 
 executed accordingelie, which is thought a more discrete and 
 prudent way, and better effect shall ensue thereof, then to 
 defer th'enterprises till the som'er be almost spent, as hath 
 bene this present yeare, and as they shall and may be fur- 
 nished with money, on both sides, for the performance of 
 the p'misses, either by invasion in p'son or by lieut'ents. 
 Necessary shall it be that mutual frank and plain advertise- 
 ment be made thereof, from time to time, to th' intent that 
 every thing may procetle to the honor of both princes, an- 
 noyance of the com'on enemy, and eschuing of superfluous 
 and vaine cxpcnccs as shall app'taine ; for, by such dribb'ing 
 
APPENDIX. 361 
 
 warr* as yet hitherto hath been made by the sayd princes, 
 the com'on enemy is rather exalted, contemming, and little 
 or nothing regarding them, then driven to knowledge him- 
 self, or come to honest conditions of truce and peace, desir- 
 ing the continuance of warr in such manner rather than 
 otherwise, supposing therby that the sayd princes shall be 
 impoverished, and he little or nothing damaged or annoyed. 
 And, in case th' emperor and the kings grace cannot be fur- 
 nished neither to invade in their p'sons nor by their lieu- 
 t'ents as above, wherein plainnes ought to be used, and all 
 dissimulation or concealment layde aparte ; then, by mutual 
 counsaile, it must.be devised, how and by what good meanes 
 they may come to an honorable peace, for thus to stand and 
 continue soe long in warr, without doing any notable da- 
 mage to th' enemy, can neither be to their honor, nor en- 
 dured by their realmes and subjects. 
 
 u The other matter which the kings grace and his coun- 
 saile have special respect unto, is this : yee know the full re- 
 solution of his grace touching such things as be to be done 
 this yeare, for the answere whereof, and knowledg of th' 
 emperors mynde in the same, his highnes looketh to be ad- 
 vertised with such diligence, that, giving one months respite 
 after the tyme of the sayd answere, assemble and transport 
 his army, the same may be entred into th' enemies countries 
 by the middest of August at the furthest ; for, as th' em- 
 peror may well consider, if, for lack of such knowledg in 
 time, the whole month of August should, p'adventure, ex- 
 pire before the kings army might be in the field, rayny 
 wether then, in September, daily running on, and the army 
 intended to be sent unto Boleyn, as yee well know, it should 
 not be possible either for the shortnes of time to doe any 
 good there, or also, in that fowlc and wet country, to convey 
 back again the artillery and ordnance. Whereof, conse- 
 
 * Dribbling war ! 
 
362 APPENDIX. 
 
 quently, should ensue none other but wast and expenses of 
 money, losse of the artillery, and great dishonor ; for which 
 cause the Ring's pleasure is, that yee, shewing th' p'misses 
 to th' emp r , doe substantially note, whether as well the ar- 
 mies to be prepared on that side may be advanced and en- 
 tered into the Ffrench kings country before or by the mid- 
 dest of August at the farthest ; as, also, that your adver- 
 tisem 1 of the same may come in such time as the king's 
 army, with the sayd one month's warning, may doe the sem- 
 blable on this side : in which case the kings grace is and 
 will be right well contented to follow and p'forme the device 
 and coica'con had thereupon, for the execution whereof 
 nothing, in the meane time, is here p'termitted. Neverthe- 
 les, if either the emperors armyes cannot be soe soone ready 
 in those parts, or that his resolution be not soe soon taken, 
 sent, and here arrived, that, with the sayd one month's 
 warning, the king's army, and the other assistance to be sent 
 unto them out of th' emperors Low Country s, may be ready in 
 the field before middest of August, which is as much or more 
 necessary to be done at that time henes, then on that side, 
 the strength of the countrie, and the great ordnance requisite 
 to be carried, considered. Then it is thought unto the king's 
 grace and his counsaile, that better it were to leave and for- 
 beare the sending of any such armies this su'mer, and to 
 spare the money that should be spent in the same, for the 
 sayd p'sonall invasion, then out of time to advance them, 
 and with losse, reproaches, and damage, to return them. 
 And, in the mean time, th' emperor and the king's grace, 
 standing in meere termes of defence, and providing suffi- 
 ciently, as well for furniture of their towncs, fortresses, and 
 places, as for guarding of the seas with some good and 
 mecte shippes, that is to say, th' emperor from the trade 
 along the coast of Spaine, and the king from the trade hither, 
 and soe to the coast of Flanders, and they to look there to 
 the garding of the sayd quarters : sure they may that not 
 
APPENDIX. 363 
 
 only their countries and subjects shall be well defended, and 
 with small charges in comparison of the other, but also the 
 comon enemy, in the mean season, the more wearied, fa- 
 tigued, and impoverished ; whereby, at the time of the sayd 
 p'sonal invasion, they should be of the much better strengthe 
 and habilitie to maynetayne themselves for a great space, 
 which is requisite to be done if any fruite or good effect 
 shall ensue thereof; and to begin in the later end of the 
 yeare, when noe tarrying or abode may be to doe any effec- 
 tual annoyance to th' enemy. And if p'case it might be 
 thought, that this time were most opportune and convenient, 
 by reason of the Duke of Hu — e — he — , I doubt not but by 
 the time that th' emperor and his couusaile shall have 
 groundly pondered and noted the difficulties contayned be- 
 fore in these my present letters, which p'adventure before 
 were not thought upon, it shall appear that there is not like 
 to grow soe great benefit or com'odity thereof as was esteem- 
 ed. I require you, therefore, circumspectly and discreetly, 
 to handle this matter with the emperor, taking such direc- 
 tion, by your prudent demonstrations to be made unto him 
 therein, that neither the time in making these sober warrs 
 against the enemy be thus longer consumed, but that by th' 
 advancement of the sayd p'sonall invasion, this next yeare 
 he may be earnestly handled, .as is aforesayd; nor also, 
 that the enterprises to be done this som'er be soe lately by 
 you there concluded, that for lack of knowledg in the time 
 before limited, the king's grace be driven to advance his 
 army, and people spend his money and time in vayne, and 
 consequently noe good done, but rather reproache, losse, and 
 damage to be sustayned. And of the emperor's resoluc'on 
 in all and singular the p'missc, with such other knowledge 
 and successes as shall occur in the mean season, I praye you 
 diligently to advertise me from time to time, as the king's 
 grace specially trusteth you. 
 
 " And were in sundry former letters and instructions 
 
364 APPENDIX. 
 
 given unto Mr Boleyn and you Mr Sampson, yee were com- 
 manded to solicite and procure the speedy sending into these 
 narrow seas of an army of 3000 men ; which thing the king's 
 grace moved and desired, only because at that time the 
 French king prepared a great and puissant army to have 
 bene sett to the sea, intending, if he might, to have been 
 lord of the same ; inasmuch as the same French king, upon 
 knowledg had of the king^s army by see, put in readynes, 
 which he saw well he was not able to countervaile, hath 
 nowe left of the setting forth and advancement of his sayd 
 great army, not being mynded, as far as the king's grace 
 can learne, to send out the same this yeare. The king's 
 highnes, therefore, having as great respect to the saving of 
 th' emperor's charges as of his owne, and rather more, being 
 mynded to further every thing that may be to the determina- 
 c'on of the sayd charges, soe as thereby they may be the 
 more able to make the sayd p'sonall invasion, willeth, that 
 yee shall show unto his majestie, that for the sayd consider- 
 ations he shall not neede to put himselfe to charge at this 
 time for sending of the said 3000 men, but only to provide 
 for the garding of those seas from the trade along the coast 
 of Spaine, as is aforesayd, soe as the merchants and subjects 
 of both princes and other their friends may passe to and 
 from out of danger as shall appertaine. And hartily fare 
 yee well. At my place besides Westminster, the 3d day of 
 July. 
 
 " Your loving friende, 
 
 u T. Carlis. Edok. 
 " To my loving frende, Mr Rich. Sampson, 
 
 deane of the king's chappie, and Sir 
 
 Richd. Jernyngham, knight, and king's 
 
 counsellors and ambassadors with the 
 
 emperor." 
 
APPENDIX. 365 
 
 From Lord Surrey to Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 " Plesith it y r . grace to be adv'tised; that upon Fridaye, 
 at x a cl'k. at nyght, I reto'ned to this towne, and all the 
 garrisons to their placs assigned, the bishoprick men, my 
 lorde of Westm'land, and my lord Dacre, in likewise ev'y 
 man home w*. their companys wtout los of any men, thanked 
 be God, saving viij or x slayne, and dyvers hurt at skyr- 
 mishes, and saults of the towne of Gedwurth and the for- 
 tresses, whiche towne is soo severly bernt, that noo garrisons 
 ner none other shal be lodged there unto the tyme it be 
 newe buylded ; the burnyng therof I comytted to two sure 
 men, S r . Will™. Bulm' and Thomas Tempeste. 
 
 " The towne was moche better then I wot it had been, 
 for ther was twoo tymys moor howses therin then in Ber- 
 wik, and well buylded, w*. many honest and faire howses 
 therein sufficiente to have lodged . . horsemen in garryson, 
 and six good towres therein, whiche towne and towres bee 
 clerely distroyed, bernt, and throwen down. Undoubtedly 
 ther was noo ro'rnen made into Scotland, in noo manys day 
 living, w l . soo fewe a nombre, that is recownted to bee soo 
 high an enterprice as this, bothe w fc . thies contremen and 
 Scottishmen, nor of truthe soo moche hurt doon ; but in th' 
 ende a great mysfortune did fall onely by foly that suche 
 ordre as was com'aunded by me to be kepte was not ob- 
 served, the maner whereof hereafter shall ensue. 
 
 " Before myn entre into Scotland, I appointed sir W m . 
 Bulmer for the vangard, and sir W m . Evers for the reregard. 
 In the vangard, I appointed my lorde of Westmoreland as 
 chief w*. all the bishopricke, sir W m . Bulm', sir W m . Overs, 
 my lord Dacre, w 1 . all his company, and w 1 . me remayned 
 all the rest of the garrysons and the Northumberland men. 
 I was of counsaile w l the m'shallis at thordering of o r . lodg- 
 ing ; and o r . camp was soo well envirowned \v e . ordynancc 
 carts and diks, that hard it was to entre or issue but at cer- 
 
366 APPENDIX. 
 
 tain placs appointed for that purpos ; and assigned the mooste 
 commodious place of the said campe for ray lord Dacre com- 
 pany next the water, and next my lorde of Westm'land; 
 and at suche tyme as my lord Dacre came into the field, I 
 being at the sault of Thabby, whiche contynued unto twoo 
 houres w 4 in nyght, my said lord Dacre would in nowise bee 
 contente to ly w l in the campe, whiche was made right sure, 
 but lodged himself w*out, wherew*. at my retorne I was not 
 contente; but then it was to late to remove. The next day 
 I sent my lord Dacre to a strong hold called Fernherst, the 
 lord whereof was his mortall enemy, and w fc . hym sir Arthur 
 Daren, sir Marmaduke Constable, wt. vijc of their men, one 
 co'tonte, and dyvers other good pecs of ordynance for the feld. 
 The said Fernherst stode m'velous strongly w*in a great woode. 
 The said twoo kights, w*. the most pte of their men, and Strik- 
 land, yo r . graces xxxx, w*. iij c . Kendall men, went into the 
 woode on fote, wt. ordyn'nce, where the said Kendall men were 
 soo handled, that they found hardy men that were not foote 
 bak for theym. The other twoo knights were alsoo soo 
 sharply assayled, that they were enforced to call for moo of 
 their men, and yet could not bring thordyn'nce to the for- 
 tresse, unto the tyme my lord Dacre, w*. part of his horsemen, 
 lighted on fote, and m'velously herdly hymself handled ; 
 and, fynally, w fc . long skyrmyshing, and moche difficultie, 
 got forthe thordyn'ce, wan the howse, and threwe downe the 
 same ; at which skyrmyshe my said lorde Dacre, and his 
 brother sir Chris tofer, and sir Arthure and sir Marmaduke, 
 and many other gentilmen, did m'velously hardly, and found 
 the best resistence that hath be seen . since my comyng to 
 thies p'ties, and above xxx * Scottis slayne, and not passing 
 iiij Englishmen, but about lx hurt. After that, my said 
 lord, retorning to the campe, wold in nowise be lodged in 
 the same, but where he laye the first night ; and he being 
 wt. me at soup', about viij a clok, the horses of his company 
 brak lowse, and sodenty ran out of his feld, in suche nombrc 
 
APPENDIX. 367 
 
 that it caused a m'velous alarvme in or. feld ; and, o r . stand- 
 yng watche beine set, the horses com ronnyng along the 
 campe, at whom were shot above one hundred sheif of ar- 
 rowes, and dyvers gonnys, thinking they had been Scotts 
 that wold have saulted the campe ; fynally, the horses were 
 soo madde, that they ran like wilde dere into the felde 
 above xx at the leest in dyv's companys ; and, in one place, 
 above 1 fell downe a great rok, and slewe theraelfes, and 
 above ij*l ran into the towne being on fire, and by the 
 women taken and carried away right evill bernt, and many 
 were taken agayne ; but, finally, by that I can esteme, by 
 the nombre of theym that I sawe goo on fote the next daye, 
 I think there is lost above * * horses, and all w*. foly, for 
 lack of not lying w*in the campe. I dare not write the won- 
 dres that my lord Dacre and all his company doo saye they 
 sawe that nyght vi tymys of sprits and fereful sights ; and 
 unyv'sally all their company saye playnly the devil was that 
 nyght amongs theym vi tymys, whiche mysfortune hath 
 blemyshed the best w'men that was made in Scotland many 
 yeres. I assure yor. grace I found the Scottes at this tyme 
 the boldest and the hotest that ev r . I sawe any nacion. And 
 all the rem'dr, upon all pts of tharmy kepte us wt. so con- 
 tynuall skyrmyshe, that I nev r . sawe the like, if they myght 
 assemble . . as good men as I nowe sawe . . or . . it wold bee 
 an herd encoyntre to mete theym. Pitie it is of my lord 
 Dacres losse of the horses of his company : he brought w l . 
 him above . . . men, and came and lodged one night in Scot- 
 land in his most mortall enemys contre. Ther is noo herdyer 
 ner bettir knight ; but often tymes he doth not use the most 
 sure ordre, which he hathe nowe payed deerly for. Writ- 
 ten at Berwike, the xxvij th of Septembre. 
 u Yrs. most bownden, 
 
 " T. Surrey." 
 
368 APPENDIX. 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey to the Bishop of London and Sir Richard 
 Wingjield, Knt. Ambassadors in Spain. 
 
 [[Orthography modernized by J. G.] 
 
 April 7, 1525. 
 " My lord of London and Mr Wingfield, I commend me 
 unto you in my right hearty manner. Since your departure 
 from hence arrived here a servant of the emperor, sent out 
 of Spain with letters to ambassador de Praet, having order 
 given unto him, as he affirmed, incontinently to pass unto 
 the lady Margaret. At the despatch of him out of Spain 
 there was no knowledge of the battle stricken in Italy ; but, 
 as I may predict by relation of the president of Malams, 
 whom by good means I caused to disclose more of his secrets 
 unto me than the lord Be vers hath or would do. He said 
 letters sent unto de Praet mentioned the emperor's desire, 
 that for as much as the French king at that time was in 
 Italy, and to drive him out of the same the kings highness 
 would invade on this side, offering to advance into the parts 
 of Narbonne, on the other side, an army which should be of 
 eight hundred of arms, five hundred light horse, seven thou- 
 sand Spaniards, and four thousand Almains, besides the pea- 
 sants, with artillery and ordnance requisite for the same. 
 And that he would maintain, entertain, and continue his 
 army in Italy, under the leading of the Duke of Bourbon 
 and the viceroy, at his own proper costs and charges ; and 
 over the same would give aid to the king of three thousand 
 footmen, and one thousand horsemen, out of his low coun- 
 tries. Notwithstanding this, the emperor's determination 
 signified to Mons. de Praet, yet I perceive that his ambassa- 
 dors here resident would first have advertised the lady Mar- 
 garet hereof, before the king's highness or I should have had 
 any knowledge of the same ; to the intent, that whosoever 
 should be concluded herein, she might have all or a great 
 7 
 
APPENDIX. 369 
 
 part of the thanks. Which manner of proceeding I by good 
 means have discovered out of the Said president apart. To 
 whom I said, that if ray lady Margaret will look to have any 
 thank in this behalf, wherein as yet hitherto she hath little 
 or none deserved, but all that is offered is to be ascribed unto 
 the emperor, it shall be well done that she increase the 
 number of three thousand footmen to four thousand, and 
 the one thousand horsemen to three thousand ; and, so do- 
 ing, she shall deserve special thank, advising him and his 
 colleagues, therefore, to solicit the same. And albeit he 
 though my lady Margaret might at length be induced 
 thereunto, yet he thought it would be difficile for them 
 to pass with their said aid into any part of Normandy, 
 being so far distant from their frontiers. For avoiding 
 of which difficulty I tould him, that percase the king 
 would personally descend at Calais with a right good 
 part of his army, sending the residue by sea, to make 
 them enter into Normandy ; and for so doing, me thought 
 they could not of reason make any difficulty, but that 
 their said aid should join with the kings highness and 
 army in his marches of Calais ; and so to pass into such 
 places as should be thought unto his grace convenient. 
 Which overture, as I could perceive, not only contented 
 him, but he promised with all diligence to advertise the lady 
 of the same, not doubting but he should have shortly from 
 her upon the premises a good resolution. Of all which the 
 emperor's offers and occasion aforesaid I thought convenient 
 to advertise you, to the intent you might perceive how be- 
 fore the battle stricken the emperor was inclined and dis- 
 posed. 
 
 " Over this there was a clause omitted in your instruc- 
 tions, which is to declare the king's mind, in case the em- 
 peror being contented on this resolution to invade Italy in 
 
 his own person, will say it should be from «^ood 
 
 U A 
 
370 APPENDIX. 
 
 conscience to charge him also with entertainment of the 
 Duke of Bourbon. Nevertheless, you know that by mouth 
 it was agreed and thought good, that in such case, that if 
 the emperor could in no wise be induced to the said enter- 
 tainment, the Duke of Bourbon should repair unto the said 
 aid of the Low Countries, to have the leading thereof; the 
 same to be in that case somewhat reinforced and increased 
 to a greater number, as to good reason and congruence doth 
 appertain. Which matter, in case of the emperor's invasion, 
 ye shall set forth in degrees ; that is to say, first, the emper- 
 or to contribute half to the entertainment of the said duke, 
 and the king's grace the other half; so as always the moiety 
 to be borne by the king's grace may be defalked of such mo« 
 ney as is due by the emperor unto the king's highness. Se- 
 condly, this failing, the king's grace, rather than fail, to 
 bear the whole 300,000 crowns last lent unto the emperor, 
 his majesty supporting the rest ; and the same to be paid by 
 the emperor in deduction of the said debt. And, finally, 
 none of these then to come unto the repair of the said duke 
 to the army in the Low Countries, as is aforesaid. 
 
 <f Finally, I send unto you herewith all the commissions, 
 letters, and copies, that were devised for your dispatch ; with 
 those of the king's, the queen's, and mine own hand. And 
 also an emerald, which my lady princess sendeth to the em- 
 peror, whose most humble and cordial recommendations 
 made unto the same, you at the delivery thereof shall say, 
 that her grace hath devised this token for a better knowledge 
 to be had when God shall send them grace to be together, 
 whether his majesty do keep himself as continent and chaste 
 as with God's grace she will. Whereby, you may say, his 
 majesty may see, that her assured love towards the same 
 hath already such a passion in her, that it is also confirmed 
 by jealousy, being one of the greatest signs and tokens of 
 hearty love and cordial affection. And thus I beseech Al- 
 
APPENDIX. 371 
 
 mighty God to send you good speed and passage. At ray 
 palace beside Westminster, the third day of April, 1525. 
 u Your loving friend, 
 
 " T. Carles, Ebor. 
 " To my loving friends, my Lord 
 Privy Seal, and Sir Richard 
 Wingfield, Knight of the Or- 
 der, the King's Ambassadors to 
 the Emperor." 
 
372 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 ALCHEMY. 
 
 A friend having remarked to me, that the note on alchemy 
 would have been more complete had I quoted a few of the 
 best authenticated cases of transmutation, I am induced to 
 resume the subject here. But I request the reader to re- 
 member that I am only acting as a historian ; of chemistry 
 I am very ignorant, and of the scientific probability or im- 
 probability of transmutation I am no judge. 
 
 In the year 1680, a translation was published in London 
 of a very curious and amusing story, entitled, " The Truth of 
 the Philosopher s Stone asserted, having been lately exposed to 
 public Sight and Sale, being a true and exact Account of the 
 Manner how Wenceslaus Seilerus, the late famous Projection 
 Maker at the Emperors Court at Vienna, come by and made 
 away with a great Quantity of Powder of Projection, by pro- 
 jecting with it before the Emperor and a Thousand Witnesses, 
 selling it, fyc. for some Years past Published at the Request 
 and for the Satisfaction of several Curious and Ingenious, espe- 
 cially of Mr Boyle, $r. By one, who was ?wt only an Eye- 
 ivitness in the Affair, but also concerned as a Commissioner by 
 the Emperor for the Examen of it" The story of Winceslaus 
 is told in a lively and pleasant manner, from his discovery 
 of the powder accidentally in a monastery in Bruna, in Mo- 
 ravia, till his arrival at the Imperial court. The whole is 
 indeed romantic, and in several points not admissable to cre- 
 dit ; but what has made me refer to the work, is a notice in 
 
APPENDIX. 373 
 
 the preface, that Prince Rupert was a witness to a transmuta- 
 tion by projection at Frankfort ; and did not question the 
 fairness of the experiment, but only observed, that he doubted 
 if the powder could be prepared with profit. The translator 
 mentions, among other living persons who had been wit- 
 nesses of the effects of Winceslaus' powder, Count Walles- 
 tine, and Dr Becher, then in London. 
 
 John Wolfgan Dienheim, M.D. and professor at Friburgh, 
 mentions, that Alexander Seton, a Scotchman, born in the 
 isle of Mull, and who was alive in 1603, transmuted metals 
 in different parts of Germany. Sendivogius, who ranks very 
 high as an alchemical author, Dr Soldner says, married the 
 widow of this Seton, and obtained, along with some of the 
 red medicine, many of the alchemist's MSS., which he pub- 
 lished as his own works. Dr Agricola of Leipsic, in his 
 " Commentary on Poppius," page 257, says, that he had 
 seen transmutation performed by a monk in a convent in 
 Italy, who transmuted 2 lbs. of lead into pure gold with a 
 single grain of powder. He also asserts that, in 1600, he 
 saw at Saltzburgh an Englishman (possibly Seton) trans- 
 mute a quantity of tin into pure gold, which he himself sent 
 to the mint and had coined into ducats. Markof, in his 
 " Epistle to Langelottus," p. 152, says, i( It is universally 
 known that Edward Kelli transmuted metals into gold in 
 the presence of the Emperor Rodolphus, and also at Prague 
 in the house of Thaddeus Haggecius, as you may read in 
 Gassendus' Book of Metals, chap, vii." The history of Sir 
 Edward Kelly is similar, in some respects, to that of Win- 
 ceslaus. It is reported, that he, with Dr Dee, were so 
 strangely fortunate, " as to find a very large quantity of the 
 elixir in some part of the ruins of Glastonbury-abbey, which 
 was so incredibly rich in virtue (being 1 upon 272,330), that 
 they lost much in making projection, by way of trial, before 
 they found out the true height of the medicine." — Theatrum 
 Chemicum liritanriicmii, page 181, edit. 1652. 
 
374 APPENDIX. 
 
 Sansimon, who was a tutor to the Duke d'Enghien, son 
 of the Prince of Conde, when he was sent to Brussels, in 
 1648, had a powder lent to him, which, by infusion in 
 water, gave the water the power of converting crude mercury 
 into an aborification of pure silver ; so says Olaus Borrichius. 
 In the reign of Louis XIII., a man of the name of Dubois 
 inherited from the heirs of the wife of the celebrated Flamel 
 a small portion of his gold-making powder, with which he 
 made an experiment on lead before the king and Cardinal 
 Richelieu, pretending that he had himself discovered the art. 
 Not, however, being able to verify his boast, and his powder 
 being exhausted, the Cardinal ordered him to be hanged as 
 an impostor. 
 
 But the case of Dr Price of Guilford, in the year 1782, is 
 the most remarkable of all ; and I feel no small degree of sa- 
 tisfaction in being able to throw some light on that very cu- 
 rious transaction. I quote from his own pamphlet the names 
 of the witnesses who were present at his seven different pro- 
 jections. — 1st experiment : present, the Rev. Mr Anderson, 
 a clergyman residing near Guilford, himself an experimen- 
 tal philosopher ; the celebrated antiquary, Captain Grose, a 
 man of eminent shrewdness; Ensign Grose; Mr Russel, a 
 magistrate of Guilford. — 2d experiment : Sir Philip Norton 
 Clarke, Dr Spence, the Rev. Mr Anderson, Captain Grose, 
 Mr Russel, and Ensign Grose.— 3d experiment : Mr Ander- 
 son, Captain and Ensign Grose, and Mr Russell.— 4th expe- 
 riment : the same persons.— 5th experiment : the same per- 
 sons, with the addition of Mr J. D. Garthwit— 6th experi- 
 ment : Sir P. N. Clarke, Rev. B. Anderson, Captain Grose, 
 Dr Spence, Ensign Grose, Mr Hallamby, Rev. Mr Man- 
 ning, Mr Fulham, Mr Anderson, Mr Robeson, and Dr 
 Spence. — 7th experiment : Lord Onslow, Lord King, Lord 
 Palmerston, Sir Robert Barker, Sir P. N. Clarke, Mr Man- 
 ning, Mr Anderson, G. Pollen, J. Robeson, Dr Spence, Wil- 
 liam Mann Godschall, William Smith, Mr Godschall, jun., 
 
APPENDIX. 375 
 
 Mr Gregory, and Mr Russell. Several of these gentlemen 
 may still be alive ; they were all at the time when Dr Price 
 published his pamphlet. He had the white and red powder, 
 by the projection of either of which upon mercury, a greater 
 miracle than mere transmutation was produced ; mercury 
 being kept in a red heat, even a white heat, without either 
 boiling or evaporating ! Part of the mercury was found 
 changed into gold or silver, according to the powder em- 
 ployed, in the proportion of twenty to one of the powder 
 employed, and sometimes even as high as fifty to one. There 
 is no doubt whatever that Price practised some duplicity. In 
 his preface, he insinuates that he made the powders himself. 
 I have heard from one quarter, that he had stated to one 
 of his friends that the powder cost him £17 sterling per 
 ounce, but whether in its manufacture or purchase, the 
 gentleman who heard this, and told me, could not say.— 
 But what I have now to mention is certainly singular. A 
 friend of my own, who had his information from a person 
 acquainted with Dr Price, and who assisted him in some 
 private experiments, told me, that Price confessed to that 
 person that he had obtained the powders from a foreign 
 gentleman's valet, whom he met with in the Orange coffee- 
 house in the Haymarket ; that he gave the valet a present of 
 sixty pounds in consequence ; that next day the valet left town 
 for Dover, and in three days after his master also quitted Lon- 
 don ; that the valet was singularly well educated, and exacted 
 from Dr Price a most solemn promise never to make a public 
 experiment with either of the powders. The words that 
 Price used after stating this incident were, " I am sorry that 
 I transgressed in this essential point of my promise ; but it 
 is now too late to repent" The cause and circumstance of 
 the doctor's death is well known. 
 
 In the " Memoirs of Huet," translated by Dr Aikin, page 
 26, there is an account of a transmutation of metal not dis- 
 similar to some of those which are mentioned in other 
 
376 APPENDIX. 
 
 works. I have to add, in addition to these, that I am ac- 
 quainted with a gentleman, who has assured me, in the 
 most solemn manner, that some years ago, while he resided 
 in Dublin, he obtained a small quantity of the white powder 
 from a friend who had remarked his incredulity of transmu- 
 tation, by which he converted a quantity of mercury into a 
 piece of silver, which he submitted to be assayed, and it was 
 found pure and good. 
 
 But the art of the alchemists was not confined to the 
 transmutation of metals ; some of their experiments were 
 of the opposite kind, as I find by a short pamphlet before me, 
 entitled, f.f An Historical Account of a Degradation of Gold 
 made by an Anti-elixir ; a strange Chemical Narrative, by the 
 Hon'ble Robert Boyle, 2d Edition, 1739." I should mention 
 here, that Boyle's alchemical designation was Pyrophilus. — 
 N.B. I had somehow been led to believe, that Professor 
 Davy's discoveries had extended to the power of degrading 
 some of the metals, but I find that I have been misinformed. 
 
377 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 Burnet and Fiddes have published so many of the princi- 
 pal documents relative to the divorce of Henry and Katha- 
 rine, that I think it would be superfluous to trouble the pub- 
 lic with any more. The following original letter from the 
 Queen to the Princess Mary serves to illustrate the simplicity 
 and domestic character of her mind. I have added a letter 
 from Anne Bullen to the Cardinal. 
 
 Queen Katharine to the Princess Mary. 
 
 Daughter, — I pray you think not any forgetfulness hath 
 compelled me to keep J. Garles so long from you, and an 
 answer to your good letter ; for the which I pray ye would 
 know how I do. I am in that case, that the long absence of 
 the king and you troubleth me. My health is meetly good, 
 and I trust in God he that sent me the last doth it to the 
 best, and will shortly cause the first to come to good effect. 
 And, in the meantime, I am very glad to hear from you, 
 specially when they show me that you are well amended. I 
 pray God to continue it to his pleasure. As for your writ- 
 ing in Latin, I am glad that ye shall maister 
 
 Federston ; for that shall do you much good to learn by him 
 to write right. And yet sometimes I would be glad when 
 ye do write to maister Federston of your own inditing, when 
 
378 APPENDIX. 
 
 he hath read it that I may see it ; for it shall be a great 
 comfort to me to see you keep your Latin and fair writing. 
 And so I pray you to recommend me to my lady of Salis- 
 bury. At Obone (Holborn) this Friday night. 
 Your loving mother, 
 
 Katharine the Queen. 
 
 Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 My Lord, — After my most humble commendations, this 
 shall be to give unto your grace, as I am most bound, my 
 humble thanks, for the great pain and travail that your 
 grace doth take, in studying, by your wisdom and great de- 
 signs, how to bring to pass honourably the greatest wealth 
 that is possible to come to any creature living ; and in espe- 
 cial remembering how wretched and unworthy I am in com- 
 paring to his highness. And for you, I do know myself ne- 
 ver to have deserved by my deserts that you should take this 
 great pain for me ; yet daily of your goodness I do perceive 
 by all my friends ; and though that I had not knowledge by 
 them, the daily proof of your deeds doth declare your words 
 and writings toward me to be true. Now, good my lord, your 
 discretion may consider as yet how little it is in my power 
 to recompense you, but alonely with my good will; the 
 which I assure you, that after this matter is brought to pass, 
 you shall find me as I am (bound in the meantime to owe 
 you my service) ; and then, look what thing in this world I 
 can imagine to do you pleasure in, you shall find me the 
 gladdest woman in the world to do it ; and, next unto the 
 king's grace, of one thing I make you full promise to be as- 
 sured to have, and that is, my hearty love, unfeigncdly, dur- 
 ing my life ; and being fully determined, with God's grace, 
 never to change this purpose, I make an end of this my rude 
 
APPENDIX. 379 
 
 and true meaned letter, praying our Lord to send you much 
 increase of honour with long life. Written with the hand 
 of her that beseeches your grace to accept this letter as pro- 
 ceeding from one that is most bound to be 
 
 Your humble and obedient servant, 
 
 Anne Boleyn. 
 
360 
 
 BOOK VII, 
 
 In order to justify the opinion that I have expressed of 
 the articles of impeachment against the Cardinal, it is neces- 
 sary to republish them. 
 
 Articles of Impeachment exhibited against Cardinal Wolscy. 
 Modernized by Lord Herbert of Cherbury. 
 
 I. Where your grace and noble progenitors within this 
 realm of England, being kings of England, have been so 
 free, that they have had in all the world no other sovereign, 
 but immediately subject to Almighty God in all things 
 touching the regality of your crown of England, and the 
 same pre-eminence, prerogative, jurisdiction, lawfull and 
 peaceable possession, your grace and noble progenitors have 
 had, used, and enjoyed, without interruption of business, 
 therefore by the space of two hundred years and more ; 
 whereby your grace may prescribe against the pope's holy- 
 ness, that he shou'd not, nor ought not to send or make any 
 legate, to execute any authority legantine, contrary to your 
 grace's prerogative within this your realm : now the lord 
 cardinal of York, being your subject, and natural liege born, 
 hath of his high orgullows and insatiable mind, for his own 
 singular advancement and profit, in derogation and to the 
 great emblemishment and hurt of your said royal jurisdic- 
 tion and prerogative, and the long continuance of the pos- 
 
APPENDIX. 381 
 
 session of the same, obtained authority legatine : by reason 
 whereof he has not only hurt your said prescription, 
 but also, by the said authority legantine, hath spoil'd and 
 taken away from many houses of religion, within this your 
 realm, much substance of their goods, and also hath usurp'd 
 upon all your ordinaries, within this your realm, much part 
 of their jurisdiction, in derogation of your prerogative, and 
 to the great hurt of your said ordinaries, prelates, and re- 
 ligious. 
 
 2. Also the said lord cardinal, being your ambassador in 
 France, made a treaty with the French king for the pope, 
 your majesty not knowing any part thereof, nor named in 
 the same ; and binding the said French king to abide his 
 order and awarde, if any controversy or doubt shou'd arise 
 upon the same betwixt the said pope and the French king. 
 
 3. Also the said lord cardinal, being your ambassador in 
 France, sent a commission to Sir Gregory de Cassalis, under 
 your great seal, in your grace's name, to conclude a treaty of 
 amity with the Duke of Ferrara; without any command- 
 ment or warrant of your highness, nor your said highness 
 advertis'd or made privy to the same. 
 
 4. Also the said lord cardinal, of his presumptuous mind, 
 in divers and many of his letters and instructions, sent out 
 of this realm to outward parts, had joyn'd himself with your 
 grace, as in saying and writing, " The king and I wou'd ye 
 should do thus ; the king and I do give unto you our hearty 
 thanks :" whereby it is apparent that he us'd himself more 
 like a fellow to your highness than like a subject. 
 
 5. Also where it hath ever been accustom 'd within this 
 realm, that when noblemen do swear their household ser- 
 vants, the first part of their oatli hath been, that they shou'd 
 be true liege men to the king, and his heirs kings of Eng- 
 land; the same lord cardinal caus'd his servants to be only 
 sworn to him, as if there had been no sovereign above him. 
 
 0. And also, whereas your grace is our sovereign lord and 
 
382 APPENDIX. 
 
 head, in whom standeth all the surety and wealth of this 
 realm ; the same lord cardinal, knowing himself to have 
 the fowl and contagious disease of the great pox broken out 
 upon him in divers places of his body, came dayly to your 
 grace, rownding in your ears, and blowing upon your most 
 noble grace with his perilous and infective breath, to the 
 marvellous danger of your highness, if God of his infinite 
 goodness had not better provided for your highness; and 
 when he was once healed of them, he made your grace to 
 believe, that his disease was an impostume in his head, and 
 no other thing. 
 
 7. Also the said lord cardinal, by his authority legatine, 
 hath given by prevention the benefices of divers persons, as 
 well spiritual and temporal, contrary to your crown and dig- 
 nity, and your laws and statutes therefore provided ; by rea- 
 son whereof, he is in danger to your grace of forfeiture of 
 his lands and goods, and his body at your pleasure. 
 
 8. Also the lord cardinal, taking upon him otherwise 
 than a true counsellor ought to do, hath us'd to have all 
 embassadors come first to him alone, and so hearing their 
 charges and intents, 'tis to be thought he hath instructed 
 them after his pleasure and purpose, before that they came 
 to your presence, contrary to your high commandment by 
 vour grace's mouth to him given, and also to other persons 
 sent to him by your grace. 
 
 9. And also the lord cardinal hath practis'd so, that all 
 manner of letters sent from beyond the sea to your highness 
 hath come first to his hands, contrary to your high com- 
 mandment by your own mouth, and also by others sent to 
 him by your grace ; by reason whereof your highness, nor 
 any of your council, had knowledge of no matters but of 
 such as it pleased him to shew them ; whereby your high- 
 ness and council have been compelled, of very force, to follow 
 his devices, which oftentimes were set forth by him under 
 such crafty and covert meanings, that your highness and 
 
APPENDIX. 383 
 
 your council have oftentimes been abus'd, insomuch that 
 when your council have found and put divers doubts and 
 things, which afterwards have ensued ; he, to abuse them, 
 used these words, u I will lay my head that no such thing 
 shall happen." 
 
 10. And the said lord cardinal hath practis'd, that no 
 manner of persons, having charge to make espial of things 
 done beyond the sea, should, at their return, come first to 
 your grace, nor to any other of your council, but only to 
 himself; and in case they did the contrary, he punish'd 
 them there for so doing. 
 
 11. Also the said lord cardinal hath granted licenses un- 
 der your great seal for carrying out of grain and other 
 victuals, after the restraint hath been made thereof, for Ins 
 own lucre and singular advantage of him and his servants, 
 for to send thither, as he bare secret favour^ without your 
 grace's warrant or knowledge thereof. 
 
 12. Also the said lord cardinal us'd many years together, 
 not only to write unto all your embassadors resident with 
 other princes in his own name, all advertisements concerning 
 your grace's affairs being in their charge ; and, in the same 
 his letters, wrote many things of his own mind, without 
 your grace's pleasure known, concealing divers things which 
 had been necessary for them to know ; but also caus'd them 
 to write their advertisements unto him ; and of the same 
 letters he us'd to conceal, for the compassing of his purpose, 
 many things both from all your other counsellors and from 
 yourself also. 
 
 13. And where good hospitals hath been us'd to be kept 
 in houses and places of religion of this realme, and many 
 poor people thereby relieved, the said hospitality and relief 
 is now decay 'd and not us'd ; and it is commonly reported 
 that the occasion thereof is, because the said lord cardinal 
 hath taken such impositions of the rulers of the said houses, 
 
384 APPENDIX. 
 
 as well for his favour in making of abbots and priors, as for 
 his visitation by his authority legantine ; and yet nevertheless 
 taketh yearly of such religious houses such yearly and con- 
 tinual charges, as they be not able to keep hospitality as they 
 were used to do ; which is a great cause that there be so 
 many vagabonds, beggars, and thieves. 
 
 14. And where the same said lord cardinal said, before 
 the suppression of such houses as he hath suppress'd, that 
 the possessions of them should be sett to farm among your 
 lay subjects, after such reasonable yearly rent as they shou'd 
 well thereupon live and keep good hospitality ; now the de- 
 mesne possession of the same houses since the suppression of 
 them hath been survey 'd, mete, and measur'd by the acre, 
 and be now set above the value of the old rent ; and also 
 such as were farmers by covent seal and copyholders be put 
 out and amoved of their farms, or else compell'd to pay new 
 fine, contrary to all equity and conscience. 
 
 15. Also the said lord cardinal, sitting among the lords 
 and others of your most honourable privy council, used him- 
 self, that if any man wou'd shew his mind, according to his 
 duty, contrary to the opinion of the said cardinal, he would 
 so take him up with his accustomable words, that they were 
 better to hold their peace than to speak, so that he would 
 hear no man speak but one or two great personages, so that 
 he would have all the words himself, and consum'd much 
 time with a fair tale. 
 
 16. Also the said lord cardinal, by his ambition and 
 pride, hath hinder'd and undone many of your poor subjects 
 for want of dispatchment of matters, for he wou'd no man 
 should meddle but himself; insomuch that it hath been af- 
 firmed by many wise men, that ten of the most wise and 
 most expert men in England were not sufficient in conve- 
 nient time to order the matters that he wou'd retain to him- 
 self ; and many times he defeir'd the ending of matters, be- 
 
APPENDIX. 385 
 
 cause that suiters shou'd attend and wait upon him, whereof 
 he had no small pleasure, that his house might be replenish'd 
 with suiters. 
 
 17. Also the said lord cardinal, by his authority lega- 
 tine, hath us'd, if any spiritual man having any riches or 
 substance, deceas'd, he hath taken their goods as his own, by 
 reason whereof their wills be not perform'd ; and one mean 
 he had to put them in fear that were made executors to re- 
 fuse to meddle. 
 
 18. Also the said lord cardinal constrain'd all ordinaries 
 in England yearly to compound with him, or else he will 
 usurp half or the whole of their jurisdiction by prevention, 
 not for good order of the diocess, but to extort treasure ; for 
 there is never a poor archdeacon in England, but that he 
 paid yearly to him a portion of his living. 
 
 19. Also the said lord cardinal hath not only by his un- 
 true suggestion to the pope shamefully slander'd many good 
 religious houses, and good virtuous men dwelling in them, 
 but also suppress'd, by reason thereof, above thirty houses 
 of religion. And where by authority of this bull, he shou'd 
 not suppress any house that had more men of religion in 
 number, above the number of six or seven, he hath sup- 
 press'd divers houses that had above the number ; and there- 
 upon hath caus'd divers offices to be found by verdict un- 
 truly, that the religious persons so suppress'd had voluntarily 
 forsaken their said houses, which was untrue, and so hath 
 caus'd open perjury to be committed, to the high displeasure 
 of Almighty God. 
 
 20. Also the said lord cardinal hath examin'd diverse and 
 many matters in the Chancery, after judgment thereof given 
 at the common law, in subversion of your laws, and made 
 some persons restore again to the other party condcnm'd 
 that they had in execution by virtue of the judgment of the 
 common law. 
 
 91. Also the said lord cardinal hath granted many injunc- 
 
 2 i: 
 
386 APPENDIX. 
 
 tions by writt, and the parties never call'd thereunto, nor 
 bill put in against them ; and by reason thereof divers of 
 your subjects have been put from their lawfull possession of 
 their lands and tenements. And by such means he hath 
 brought the more party of the suiters of this your realm be- 
 fore himself; whereby he and divers of his servants hath 
 gotten much riches, and your subjects suffer'd great wrongs. 
 
 22. Also the said lord cardinal, to augment his great 
 riches, hath caus'd divers pardons granted by the pope to be 
 suspended, which cou'd not be reviv'd till the said lord car- 
 dinal was rewarded, and also had a yearly pension of the 
 said pardon. 
 
 23. Also the said lord cardinal, not regarding your laws 
 nor justice, of his extort power hath put out divers and 
 many farmers of his lands, and also patentees of the arch- 
 bishoprick of York and of the bishoprick of Winchester, 
 and of the abbey of St Albans, which had good and suffi- 
 cient grant thereof by your laws. 
 
 24. Also the same lord cardinal, at many times when any 
 houses of religion hath been void, hath sent his officers 
 thither, and with crafty perswasions hath induced them to 
 compromit their election in him ; and before he nam'd or 
 confirm'd any of them, he and his servants receiv'd so much 
 great goods of them, that in a manner it hath been to the 
 undoing of the house. 
 
 25. Also, by his authority legantine, the same lord car- 
 dinal hath visited the most part of the religious houses and 
 colleges of this your realm, and hath taken from them the 
 twenty-fifth part of their livelyhood, to the great extortion 
 of your subjects, and derogation of your laws and preroga- 
 tive, and no law hath been to bear him so to do. 
 
 26. Also, when matters have been near a judgment by 
 process of your common law, the same lord cardinal hath 
 not only given and sent injunctions to the parties, but also 
 sent for your judges, and expressly by threats commanded 
 
 2 
 
APPENDIX. 387 
 
 them todeferr the judgment, to the evident subversion of 
 your laws, if the judges woud so have ceas'd. 
 
 27. And whereas neither the Bishop of York, nor Win- 
 chester, nor the abbey of St Albans, nor the profit of his 
 legation, nor the benefit of the Chancery, nor his great pen- 
 sion out of France, nor his wards and other inordinate tak- 
 ing, cou'd suffice him, he hath made his son Winter to spend 
 seven and twenty hundred pounds by the year, which he 
 taketh to his own use, and giveth him not past two hundred 
 pounds yearly to live upon. 
 
 28. Also, whereas the said lord cardinal did first sue 
 unto your grace to have your assent to the legate de latere, 
 promising and solemnly protesting before your majesty, and 
 before the lords both spiritual and temporal, that he wou'd 
 nothing do nor attempt by the virtue of his legacie contrary 
 to your gracious prerogative or regality, or to the dammage 
 or prejudice of the jurisdiction of any ordinary, and that by 
 his legacie no man shou'd be hurt nor offended ; and upon 
 that condition, and no other, he was admitted by your grace 
 to be legate within this your realm : this condition he hath 
 broken, and is well known to all your subjects. And when 
 that he made this promise, he was busic in his suit at Rome 
 to visit all the clergy of England both exempt and not ex- 
 empt. 
 
 29. Also, upon the suit of the said lord cardinal at Home 
 to have his authority legantinc, he made untrue surmise to 
 the pope's holiness against the clergy of your realm ; which 
 was, that the regular persons of the said clergy had given 
 themselves in reprobum tension ; which words St Paul, 
 writing to the Romans, applied to abominable sin; which 
 slander to your church of England shall for ever remain in 
 the register at Rome against the clergy of this your realm. 
 
 30. Also, the said lord cardinal had the more part of the 
 goods of Dr Smith, late bishop of Lincoln, Bishop Savage of 
 York, Master Dalbye, archdeacon of Richmond, Master 
 
388 APPENDIX. 
 
 Tonyers, Dr Rothall, late bishop of Durham,, and of Dr Fox, 
 late bishop of Winchester, contrary to their wills, and your 
 laws and justice. 
 
 31. Also, at the Oyer and Terminer of York, proclama- 
 tion was made that every man shou'd put in their bills for 
 extortion of ordinaries : and when divers bills were put in 
 against the officers of the said lord cardinal of extortion, for 
 taking twelvepence of the pound for probation of testaments, 
 whereof divers bills were found before Justice Fitz Herbert 
 and other commissioners, the said lord cardinal removed the 
 said indictments into the Chancery by certiorari, and rebuk'd 
 the said Fitz Herbert for the same cause. 
 
 32. Also the said lord cardinal hath busied himself, and 
 endeavour'd, by crafty and untrue tales, to make dissention 
 and debate amongst your nobles of the realm, which is ready 
 to be prov'd. 
 
 33. Also the said lord cardinal's officers hath divers times 
 compell'd your subjects to serve him with carts for carriage, 
 and also his servants hath taken both corn and cattle, fish, 
 and all other victual, at your grace's price, or under, as tho' 
 it had been for your grace, which is contrary to your laws. 
 
 34. Also the said lord cardinal hath misus'd himself in 
 your most honourable court, in keeping of as great estate 
 there in your absence, as your grace would have done if you 
 had been there present in your own person. 
 
 35. Also, his servants, by virtue of your commission under 
 your broad seal by him to them given, have taken cattle and 
 all other victual, at as low a price as your purveyors have 
 done for your grace by your prerogative, against the laws of 
 your realm. 
 
 36. Also, where it hath been accustom'd, that your pur- 
 veyors for your honourable household have had yearly out 
 of your town and liberty of St Albans three or four hundred 
 quarters of wheat ; truth it is, that since the lord cardinal 
 had the room of abbot, your said purveyors cou'd not be 
 
APPENDIX. 380 
 
 suffer'd by him and his officers to take any wheat within the 
 said town or liberties 
 
 37. Also, he hath divers times given injunction to your 
 servants, that have been for causes before him in the Star 
 Chamber, that they, nor other for them, shou'd make labour 
 by any manner of way, directly or indirectly, to your grace, 
 to obtain your grace's favour or pardon, which was a pre- 
 sumptuous intent for any subject. 
 
 38. Also the said lord cardinal did call before him Sir 
 John Stanley, Knight, which had taken a farm by covent- 
 seal of the abbot and convent of Chester, and afterwards by 
 his power and might, contrary to right, committed the said 
 Sir John Stanley to the prison of Fleet by the space of one 
 year, unto such time as he compell'd the said Sir John to 
 release his covent-seal to one Leghe of Adlington, which 
 married one Lark's daughter, which woman the said lord 
 cardinal kept, and had with her two children : * whereupon 
 the said Sir John Stanley, upon displeasure taken in his 
 heart, made himself monk in Westminster, and there died. 
 
 39. Also, on a time your grace being at St Albans, ac- 
 cording to the ancient custom us'd within your verge, your 
 clerk of the mercat doing his office, did present unto your 
 officers of your most honourable household the prices of all 
 manner of victuals within the precinct of the verge. And 
 'twas commanded by your said officers to set up the said 
 prices both on the gates of your honourable household, and 
 also within the market-place in the town of St Albans, as of 
 ancient custom it hath been us'd. And the lord cardinal, 
 hearing the same, presumptuously, and not like a subject, 
 caus'd the aforesaid prices, which were seal'd with your 
 grace's seal, accustomably us'd for the same, to be taken off, 
 
 • I have not been able to learn what became of bis son ; but, 
 by a letter in the British MuMUlD, his daughter appears tohavc 
 been a nun in a convent in Shaftesbury. 
 
390 APPENDIX. 
 
 and pull'tl down in the said market-place where they were 
 set up, and in the same places set up his own prices seal'd 
 with his seal, and wou'd, if it had not been letted, in sem- 
 blable manner have us'd your seal standing upon your gates : 
 and also would of his presumptuous mind have openly set 
 in the stocks within your said town your clerk of your mar- 
 ket : by which presumption and usurpation your grace may 
 perceive that in his heart he hath reputed himself to be equal 
 with your royal majesty. 
 
 40. Also the said lord cardinal, of his further pompous 
 and presumptuous mind, hath enterpriz'd to joyn and im- 
 print the cardinal's hat under your arms in your coin of 
 groats made at your city of York, which like deed hath not 
 been seen to have been done by any subject within your 
 realm before this time. 
 
 41. Also, where one Sir Ed. Jones, clerk, parson of Crow- 
 ley, in the county of Bucks, in the eighteenth year of your 
 most noble reign, let his said parsonage, with all tythes and 
 other profits of the same, to one William Johnson, by in- 
 denture for certain years, within which years the dean of the 
 said cardinal's college in Oxford pretended title to a certain 
 portion of tythes within the said parsonage, supposing the 
 said portion to belong to the parsonage of Chichelly, which 
 was appropriated to the priory of Tykeford lately suppress'd, 
 where (of truth) the parsons of Crowley have been peaceably 
 possess'd of the said portion time out of mind ; whereupon 
 a subpoena was directed to the said Johnson to appear before 
 the said lord cardinal at Hampton-court, out of any term, 
 with an injunction to suffer the said dean to occupy the said 
 portion. Whereupon the said Johnson appear'd before the 
 said lord cardinal at Hampton- court, where, without any 
 bill, the said lord cardinal committed him to the Fleet, 
 where he remain'd by the space of twelve weeks, because he 
 wou'd not depart with the said portion. And, at the last, 
 upon a recognizance made that he shou'd appear before the 
 
APPENDIX. 391 
 
 said lord cardinal whensoever he was commanded, he was 
 delivered out of the Fleet; howbeit as yet the said portion 
 is so kept from him that he dare not deal with it. 
 
 42. Also, where one Martin Docowra had a lease of the 
 mannor of Balsall, in the county of Warwick, for term of 
 certain years, an injunction came to him out of the Chan- 
 cery by writ, upon pain of a thousand pounds, that he shou'd 
 avoid the possession of the same mannor, and suffer Sir 
 George Throckmorton, Knight, to take the profits of the 
 same mannor to the time the matter depending in the Chan- 
 cery between the lord of St John's arid the said Docowra 
 was discuss'd. And yet the said Docowra never made answer 
 in the Chancery, ne ever was call'd into the Chancery for 
 that matter ; and now of late he hath receiv'd a like injunc- 
 tion upon pain of two thousand pounds, contrary to the 
 course of common law. 
 
 43. Also, whereas in the parliament chamber, and in open 
 parliament, communication and devices were had and mov'el, 
 wherein mention was by an incident made of matters touching 
 heresies and erroneous sects : it was spoken and reported by 
 one bishop there being present, and confirm'd by a good 
 number of the same bishops, in presence of all the lords spi- 
 ritual and temporal then assembled, that two of the said bi- 
 shops were minded and desir'd to repair unto the university 
 of Cambridge for examination, reformation, and correction, 
 of such errors as then seem'd, and were reported to reign 
 among the students and scholars of the same, as well touch- 
 ing the Lutheran sect and opinions as otherwise: the lord 
 cardinal, inform'd of the good minds and intents of the said 
 two bishops in that behalf, expressly inhibited and com- 
 manded them in no wise so to do. By means whereof, the 
 same errors, as they affirm'd, crept more abroad, and took 
 greater place ; saying, furthermore, that 'twas not in their 
 defaults that the said heresies were not punished, but in the 
 
392 APPENDIX. 
 
 said lord cardinal, and that 'twas no reason any blame or lack 
 shou'd be arrected to them for his offence. Whereby it evi- 
 dently appeareth, that the said lord cardinal, besides all 
 other his heinous offences, hath been the impeacher and dis- 
 turber of due and direct correction of heresies, being highly 
 to the danger and peril of the whole body, and good Chris- 
 tian people of this your realm. 
 
 44. Finally, forasmuch as by the aforesaid articles is evi- 
 dently declar'd to your most royal majesty, that the lord car- 
 dinal, by his outrageous pride, hath greatly shadowed a long 
 season your grace's honour, which is most highly to be re- 
 garded, and, by his insatiable avarice and ravenous appetite 
 to have riches and treasure without measure, hath so griev- 
 ously oppress'd your poor subjects with so manifold crafts of 
 bribery and extortion, that the commonwealth of this your 
 grace's realm is thereby greatly decayed and impoverished : 
 and also by his cruelty, iniquity, affection, and partiality, 
 hath subverted the due course and order of your grace's laws 
 to the undoing of a great number of your loving people. 
 
 Please it your most royal majesty therefore, of your excel- 
 lent goodness towards the weal of this your realm and sub- 
 jects of the same, to set such order and direction upon the 
 said lord cardinal, as may be to the terrible example of 
 others to beware so to offend your grace and your laws here- 
 after : and that he be so provided for, that he never have 
 any power, jurisdiction, or authority, hereafter, to trouble, 
 vex, and impoverish, the commonwealth of this your realm, 
 as he hath done heretofore, to the great hurt and damage of 
 every man almost high and low, which for your grace so 
 doing will daily pray, as their duty is, to Almighty God for 
 the prosperous estate of your most royal majesty, long to 
 endure in honour and good health, to the pleasure of God, 
 and your heart's most desire. 
 
 Subscribed the first day of December, the 'ilst year of 
 
APPENDIX. 393 
 
 the reign of our sovereign lord King Henry the 
 Eighth. 
 
 T. More. T. Rochford. 
 
 T. Norfolk. T. Darcy. 
 
 C. SUFF. W. MOUNTJOY. 
 
 T. Dorset. W. Sandys. 
 
 H. Oxen. W. Fitzwilliam. 
 
 John Oxonford. Henry Guldeford. 
 
 H.Northumberland. Anthony Fitzherbert. 
 
 G. Shrewsbury. John FiTzjames. 
 
 R. Fitzwater. 
 
 Copy of a Letter to Mr Cromwell, in relation to a Bastard 
 Daughter of Cardinal Wolsey's, in the Nunnery of Shafts- 
 bury. 
 
 Ryghte hon'able, — Aftr most humbyll comendacyons, I 
 lykewyse beseeche you, that the contents of this ray symple 
 lett. may be secret, and that for asmyche as I have grete 
 cause to go home, I beseech your good mast'shipe to coraand 
 Mr Herytag to give atendans opon your mast'shipe for 
 the knowlege of your plesure in the sayd secrete mat', whiche 
 ys this ; ray lord cardinall caused me to put a yong gentyll 
 woman to the monystery and nu 'ry off Shafftysbyry, and 
 there to be p'fessyd, and wold hur to benamydray doythter, 
 and the troy the ys, she was his dowythter, and now by 
 yo r . visitacyon she hathe comawyment to dep'te, and 
 knowy the not whether ; wherefore I humbly beseeche youre 
 mast'shipe to dyrect yo r . letter to the abbas there, that she 
 may there co'tynu, at hur full age to be p'fessid. 
 
 WWte dowytc she ys ether xxiiij yerc full, or shal be at 
 shuche tyme of the ycreas she was boren, which was abowyte 
 Myclelmas. In this yo r . doyng, yo'. mastershipe shall do a 
 
 2 C 
 

 394 APPENDIX. 
 
 very charitable ded, and also bynd hur and me to do you 
 such s'vyce as lythe in owre lytell powers, as knowythe 
 owre Lord God, whome I humely beseeche p'speryusly and 
 longe to p's've you. 
 
 Your orator, 
 
 John Clusey. 
 To the rygthe hon'abull and his most 
 especiall good Mr Master Cromell, 
 secretary to owre sovW the Kyng. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY OLIVER & BOYD. 
 
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