.iuW!*''ih'it''?

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE
LIFE OF CARDINAL WOLSEY.
BY
GEORGE CAVENDISH,
HIS GENTLEMAN tlSHER.

THE
LIFE OP
CARDINAL WOLSEY.
BY
GEORGE CAVENDISH,
HIS GENTLEMAN USHER.
FROM THE ORIGINAL AUTOGRAPH MANUSCRIPT.

NOTES AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS,

SAMUEL WELLER. SINGER, F.S.A.

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISONi
FOR HARDING AND LEPARD, PALL MALL EAST.

MDCCCXXVII.

TO HIS GRACE
THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE,
THIS REVIVAL OF A MOST INTERESTING
SPECIMEN OF COTEMPORARY BIOGRAPHY,
BY HIS COLLATERAL ANCESTOR
GEORGE CAVENDISH,
IS WITH PERMISSION DEDICATED
BY HIS GRACE'S OBLIGED AND
OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT,

S. W. SINGER.

PREFACE.

Perhaps few periods of English history
are more remarkable than that which com
prised the fortunes of Wolsey ; a period
which had to boast the most illustrious
potentates who have ever filled the thrones
of Europe. The age of Henry was also
that of Leo, of Charles, and of Francis : —
a period big with political events of sin
gular interest : — the captivity of the French
monarch and of the Roman Pontiff, — the
sacking of Rome, — the divorce of Queen
Katherine, — and the train of circumstances
which led the way to the Reformation, —
Events in which Wolsey's hand may be
often traced, and in some of which he was
a principal actor. The record of his life
and its vicissitudes, — his humble origin —
his towering fortunes, and his sudden fall,
— could not well fail of interesting even in

Vlll PREFACE.

ordinary hands : — But he has been ex
tremely fortunate in his biographer. The
narrative contained in the following pages,
of course, only affords a glance at these
events ; it is not the work of a professed
historiographer, but the production of a
simple-hearted and honest eyewitness of
what he relates. George Cavendish was
the faithful attendant of this princely pre
late in his triumphant as well as in his de
clining fortunes :~One who failed him not
in his adversity, but shed over his fallen
master the tears of affection, performed
for him the last sad offices of humanity,
and then in his retirement sat down with
honest indignation to vindicate him from
slander, and to transmit to future ages a
faithful picture of his life, with a sacred ^
regard to truth.
It is this circumstance which renders his
work so much more interesting than any
thing of a similar kind with which I am
acquainted. We are here occasionally in
troduced to the secret recesses of the pri
vate life of one of the most distinguished
statesmen the world ever saw ; of one who

PREFACE. IX

not only divided the sway of empire with
his monarch, but who governed or in
fluenced the conduct alternately of France
and Spain ; whose power for a time was
almost unlimited, and whose magnificence
has never been exceeded.
There is a sincere and impartial ad^
herence to truth, a reality in Cavendish's
narrative, which bespeaks the confidence
of his reader, and very much increases his
pleasure. It is a work without pretension,
but full of natural eloquence, devoid of the
formality of a set rhetorical composition,
unspoiled by the affectation of that clas
sical manner in which all biography and
history of old time was prescribed to be
written, and which often divests such re
cords of the attraction to be found in the
conversational style of Cavendish. There
is an unspeakable charm in the naivete of
his language — his occasional appeals to his
reader — and the dramatic form of his nar
ration, in which he gives' the very words
of the interlocutors, and a lively picture of
their actions, making us as it were spec
tators of the scenes he describes. Indeed

X PREFACE.
^^g^^oet has literally followed him
in several passages of his King Henry VIII-
merely putting his language into verse.
Add to this the historical importance of
the work, as the only sure and authentic
source of information upon many of the
most interesting events of that reign ; from
which all historians have largely drawn,
(through the secondary medium of Holin-
shed and Stowe, who adopted Cavendish's
narrative,) and its intrinsic value need not
be more fully expressed.
Upon the death of the Cardinal his
master, Cavendish relates that the king
gave him the same appointment, of Gen
tleman Usher, in his service, which he had
filled in the household of Wolsey : yet at
the close of his work he tells us that he re
turned to his own home in the country.
Whether his retirement was only tem
porary, or whether he then took his final
leave of the court, we have no exact means
of ascertaining. In his poems he does not
mention having served the king, yet dwells
upon his faithful services to the Cardinal ;
but the information he displays upon the

PREFACE. Xi
principal subsequent events of the reign of
Henry, and that of Edward VI. seems to
lead to the conclusion that he was a spec
tator of them. In retirement he would
have hardly been able to obtain the ac
quaintance with public affairs which his
poems show that he possessed. The cir
cumstance of his sitting down to write in
the reign of Philip and Mary i, " to eschewe
all ociosite," would seem to point to that
as the period of his retirement, or other
wise his conscience had long slumbered
before it accused him that his " tyme he
spent in idelnes>"
The fate of this Life of Wolsey has been
indeed singularly unfortunate; after re
maining in manuscript nearly a century,
it was first printed in 1641, for party pur
poses, but in such a garbled form as to
be hardly recognized for the same work,
abridgment and interpolation having been
used with an unsparing hand. Its author
too had been robbed of his literary honours,
which were bestowed upon his younger
' See the Life of Wolsey, page 102, where he speaks of
King Philip now our sovereign lord.

XH PREFACE.

and more fortunate brother Sir William
Cavendish, until the year 1814, when his
cause was ably advocated in a Dissertation
by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, F. A. S. author
of the History of Hallamshire. I am in
debted to the kind intervention of my
friend J. H. Markland, Esq. for the pri
vilege of reprinting thatDissertation, which
the reader will find at the commencement
of the volume, and will, I doubt not, be
gratified in the perusal. It affords the best
example of clear argumentative solution of
a literary paradox from circumstantial evi
dence with which I am acquainted, at the
same time it is so skilfully interwoven with
curious matter bearing upon the question,
as not only to divest it of the sterile cha
racter with which disquisitions of the same
kind from less able hands have been
marked, but to render it very interesting.
I owe Mr. Hunter my best acknowledge
ments for the ready manner in which the
favour was conferred, and I look to have
the thanks of those, who are yet unac
quainted with it, for uniting this tract
with the work of George Cavendish, from

PREFACE. xm

which it should never again be disjoined.
For all that relates to the Life of Wolsey
and its author, therefore, I shall beg leave
to refer to this source of information ; and
it will only remain for me to give an
account of the present edition.
Having purchased two valuable ancient
manuscript copies of the work, one of
them from among the duplicates of the late
Duke of Norfolk's library^, I conceived

~ The Norfolk MS. is defective at the beginning, one leaf
being lost, which contained a portion of the prologue ; there
is consequently no title to the work. It has a blank leaf at
the place where the lacunce usually occur in the manuscript
copies. The hand-writing is of the reign of Elizabeth, and
the text corresponds very nearly with that of Dr. Words
worth : the orthography is not the same. This MS. is in its
original binding, ' and has the name of its ancient possessor,
Henrie Farleigh, stamped on each cover. The other manu
script copy in my possession is carefully written, but ap
parently of more recent date; it has the following title in
German text hand prefixed :
®]&c %iU of iWagtet
artpisjboppe of ¥oic6e
anD @art)tnan
torittttt 6g
George ^abentiigi)'
j&ts ffitntleman Sagjer.
The same chasm is marked in this MS, as in the former, two

XIV PREFACE.

that the text might be very much im
proved by collation of these and the
several manuscripts in private and public
libraries. Upon naming the design to my
friend Mr. Douce, he mentioned to me a
very curious copy in the possession of Mr.
Lloyd, which contained some verses ap
parently by the same author, and which
from this circumstance might have some
claim to be considered the author's original
autograph. Upon application to that gen
tleman, he, with a liberality which calls
for my warmest thanks, immediately placed
the manuscript in my hands. I at once
saw that its pretensions were undoubted,
and that it contained not only a more
valuable text of the Life, but a series of
poems, evidently in the hand writing of
the author, with occasional corrections
and interlineations, and thus attested : —
" per le Aiictor G. C." in numerous places.
pages and a half being left blank, but the imperfect passages
at the conclusion of the hunt, and at the commencement of
the relation concerning the libels on Wolsey, are completed
by a few words as they now stand in Dr. Wordsworth's text.
The variations between these copies are chiefly literal ; the
orthography is in many respects different.

PREFACE. XV

On the first blank leaf is written in the
same hand with the body of the manu
script, " Vincit quipatititr q" G. C. Maxima
vindicta paciencia ;" and then " Cavendysh
de Cavendysh in Com. Suff. gent." and
beneath, " I began this booke the 4. day of
Novemb'." On the reverse of the same leaf
is another Latin sentence and the motto
of Cavendish, Cavendo tutus. On a suc
ceeding blank leaf is the name of a former
possessor, C. Rossington ', under which is
written in another hand, " i. e. Clement
Rossington of Dronfield, Gent, whose son
Mr. James Rossington gave me this MS."
It is remarkable that it should have passed

' Mr, Hunter informs me that Clement Rossington the
elder, who must be here alluded to, died in 1737. He ac
quired the manor of Dronfield by his marriage with Sarah
Burton, sister and co-heir of Ralph Burton, of Dronfield, Esq.
who died in 1714. The father of Ralph and Sarah Burton
was Francis Burton, also of Dronfield, who was aged twenty-
five at the visitation of Derbyshire, 1662, and the mother,
Helen, daughter and heir of Cassibelan Burton, son of William
Burton the distinguished antiquary and historian of Leices'ter-
shire. There is good reason to believe that the Rossingtons were
not likely to purchase abook of this cnriosity,and it is therefore
more than probable that it once formed part of the library
of William Burton, other books which had been his having
descended to them, ,

XVl PREFACE.

into the possession of a person in Der
byshire. Those who have made Sir Wil
liam Cavendish the author would have
seized upon this circumstance with avidity
as lending colour to their assertion, and
would probably have argued that the ini
tials G. C. by which George Cavendish has
attested it as his production in so many
places, were intended to designate GulieU
www Cavendish. Mr. Hunter has, however,
settled the question beyond the possibility
of dispute ; it is sufficient to remark here
that Sir William Cavendish died in 1557,
and that this manuscript affords unequi
vocal evidence that the writer survived
Queen Mary, who died at the close of 1558.
Unfortunately the first leaf of the text of
the Life is wanting. At the end of the
Author's Address to his Book, with which
the poems conclude, is the date of the
completion of the manuscript, which will
be found on the plate of fac-similes :
Finie et compile le xxiiijjour de Junij.
A". Regnor. Philippi Rex 8f Regine Marie iiif". 8t v":
Per le Auctor G. C.
Novus Rex, nova lex. Nova sola Regina, probz. pene ruina.

PREFACE. XVH

This invaluable acquisition made me
at once change my plan, and proceed
earnestly to the work of transcription ;
feeling convinced that all other manu
scripts were, in comparison, of little au
thority, I determined to follow this, as
most entitled to confidence. Upon com
paring it with my own manuscript copies
and the text of Dr. Wordsworth, I found
that it supplied the chasm which, for some
unknown reason, is found in all the manu
scripts that have come under my notice.
The suppressed passages contain the de
scription of a boar hunt, and an account
of the. libels written against Wolsey by the
French"; the imperfection is generally in
dicated by a blank space being left, which
in Mr. Donee's MS. is accompanied by a
note saying, " in this vacante place there
wanteth copy." It was at first my inten
tion to give various readings, but upon
closer comparison I found this would liave

^ Vide pp. 181, 182, 183, and for another addition pp. 166,
167, 168 ; in the present edition the passages are included in
brackets.

XVlll PREFACE.

been impracticable, because the text, as it
appears in Dr. Wordsworth's edition and
in the common manuscript copies, has
been almost entirely rewritten; changes
iji the structure of the phrase and verbal
discrepancies occur in almost every line.
Under such circumstances I was obliged
to content myself with indicating the most
important variations, I mean such as in
any way affected the meaning of the text.
I'have however availed myself of my own
manuscript copies, or of Dr. Wordsworth's
edition, to supply an occasional word or
phrase which seemed necessary to the sense
of a passage, but have always carefully
distinguished these additions, by enclosing
them in brackets.
It is not easy to account for the ex
traordinary difference in the language of
the original autograph copy and the later
manuscripts, by any other means than a
supposition that the copyist thought he
could improve the style of Cavendish,
which is indeed sometimes involved and
obscure, but many of the discrepancies
Jiave clearly arisen from the difficulty of

PREFACE. XIX

reading his hand-writing, and the sub
stitutions most frequently occur where the
original manuscript is the most illegible.
It is scarcely probable that Cavendish
wrote another copy, for he was already^
as he himself says, old, and probably did
not survive the date of the completion of
this MS. above a year. There are no ad
ditions of the least importance in the more
recent copies ; the few which occur have
been carefully noted.
Of the Poems, to which I have given the
title of Metrical Visions, no other copy
is known to exist. They have little or no
merit as verses, being deficient in all the
essential points of invention, expression
and rhythm, and it is to be regretted that
Cavendish, who knew so well how to in
terest us by his artless narration of facts
in prose, should have invoked the muse in
vetiii. He seems to have been sensible of
his deficiency, and says very truly
" I must write plain, colours I have none to paint."
In the former limited impression these
Metrical Visions were printed, but as they
c 2

XX PREFACE.
have little in them to interest the general
reader, it has been deemed advisable to
give only a specimen in the Appendix to
the present edition ; the omission enabling
the publishers to compress the work into
one volume, and thereby to make it more
generally accessible.
I have ventured to take the spelling
and pointing into my own hands ; but in
no instance have I presumed to alter the
disposition of the text. I have reason to
think that the judicious reader will not be
displeased at what is done in this respect ;
it is no more than what has been effected
for Shakspeare and other of our ancient
classics. The orthography of Cavendish,
as the specimen given from his poems will
evince, was exceedingly uncouth and un
settled ; retaining it could have answered
no good end ; those who wish to have
recourse to the work for philological pur
poses would most assuredly prefer the au
thority of manuscripts ; and the disguise
of old spelling might have deterred many
from reading this interesting narrative, to
whom it will now afford pleasure.

PREFACE. XXI

The remaining portion of the volume
comprises a very curious Memoir of Queen
Anne Boleyn by George Wyatt, grandson
of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet, containing
some particulars relating to that unfor
tunate lady not elsewhere noted. It must
be considered a valuable supplement to
the notice of her contained in the Life of
Wolsey. In the Appendix is also given a
Parallel between Wolsey and Laud, written
at the tiipe when Cavendish's work first
issued from the press ; though its purpose
was to excite prejudice against Laud, it is
not deficient in interest, and is conducted
with tolerable temper. The original being
of extreme rarity, and of sufficient brevity,
I have thought that it would be an agree
able addition to this work. The few letters
and papers which are added were necessary
illustrations of passages in the text and
notes, and though some of them are to be
found in books readily accessible, they are
not placed in connexion with the work to
which they relate without suflScient reasons,
which the reader will find stated in the
preliminary notices ; it is therefore unne-

Xxii PREFACE.
cessary to repeat them in this place. A
few notes on the Life of Wolsey which
have been adopted from Dr. Wordsworth's
edition are distinguished by the letter W-
It is not generally known that a very
curious edition of this Life was printed
by the zealous biographer of Wolsey, Mr.
Grove of Richmond, as long since as the
year 1761. He had first adopted the old
spurious copy, which he printed in the
form of notes to his own work in 1742-4;
but afterwards meeting with a manuscript,
he was so indignant upon finding by com
parison the forgeries and scandalous in
terpolations of the old editions, that he
printed off a small impression with a pre
face and notes ; but it is one of the rarest
of English books. For the loan of this
curious volume^ I am indebted to the
kindness of Richard Heber, Esq. M.P. for
the University of Oxford, whose liberality,
in imparting the inexhaustible treasures of

' Bound up in the same volume with the Life of Wolsey,
in Mr. Heber's copy, are the following tracts bearing upon
the subject ; of which a very limited impression appears to
have been made, as they are all equally rare.

PREFACE. XXm
the richest and most comprehensive library
ever formed by one individual, it has been
my good fortune frequently to experience.
Two Dialogues in the Elysian Fields between Cardinal
Wolsey and Cardinal Ximenes, by Mr. Grove of Richmond.
London, Printed for the Author by D. Leach, 1761.
A Short Historical Account of Sir William Cavendish,
Gentleman Usher to Cardinal Wolsey, and of his Lady Eli
zabeth (afterwards Countess of Shrewsbury) and their de
scendants. This has no title page. The Observations and
Appendix to the Life of Wolsey appear to have been an
nexed, as the paging is continued.
Six Appendices to a Short History of King Henry VIII.
which he had previously published. These have no general
title, and are separately paged.
A Short Examination into some Reflections cast on the
Memory of Cardinal Wolsey, by the Author of the Life of Sir
Thomas More, in the Biographia Britannica. 1761.
The Life of Robert Wolsey, of Ipswich, Gentleman, Father
of the famous Cardinal. 1761.
Grove has divided his edition into sections for the purpose
of reference. His text has now nothing to recommend it,
though it was then a laudable undertaking : he occasionally
shows that he could not very well decipher his MS. ; he puts
hinnocrisse for hippocrass at p. 71, and at p. 76 peeres for
speres, with many other palpable mistakes. Grove's inge
nuity, though not his ingenuousness, may be admired; for
finding in his manuscript the work attributed to George
Cavendish, he converts it to Gu. Cavendish, Gent, not to
disturb his own historical account of Sir William Cavendish,
in which he gives a circumstantial relation of the intimacy
between Wolsey and Thomas Cavendish of the Exchequer,
the father of Sir William, who, he says, placed him in
the service of Wolsey, and of the growth of his fortunes in
consequence, with a confidence and detail which is truly
amusing.

XXIV PREFACE.

My excellent and highly valued friend
Francis Douce, Esq. with his accustomed
kindness, threw open to me his valuable
library, and placed in my hands a very
curious manuscript ** of thi's Life, em
bellished with spirited drawings in outline
of some of the principal occurrences, from
which three prints have been accurately
copied as appropriate embellishments of
the book. With these advantages, I-have
reason to hope that this edition will be
found in all respects worthy of the singular
merit of the work, and of the auspices
under which it goes forth to the world.
Box HiLii,
June 1, 1825.

'= This manuscript is carefuUy written in a volume with
other curious transcripts, and has marginal notes by the
transcriber, who appears to have been a puritan, from his
exclamations against pomp and ceremony. At the end he
writes, " Copied forth by S. B. anno 1578, the first day of
September.''

CONTENTS.

Page
The Editor's Preface  vii
Wuo wrote Cavendish's Life of Wolsey ? A
Dissertation. By The Rev. Joseph Hunter,
F.S.A  1
The Life of WoiiSEY by George Cavendish . . 16

, APPENDIX.
Extracts from the Life of Anne Boleignb, by
George Wyatt, Esq- Son of Sir Thomas
Wyatt the younger  417
Six Letters, supplementary to the above Memoir;
containing Particulars of the Arrest of Queen Anne
Boleyn, and her Behaviour while in the Tower.
LETTER I.
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromwell. — Upon
Queen Anne's Committal to the Tower .... 451
LETTER ir.
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromwell.— On
Queen Anne's Behaviour in Prison  453

Xxvi CONTENTS.
LETTER III.
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromwell.— Fnrthev
Particulars 

Page 456

LETTER ^^
Edward Baynton to the Lord Treasurer.— Tfedaxing
that only Mark will confess any Thing against
Queen Anne  LETTER V.
Sir William Kingston to Secretary CromvieU, May 16,
1536. — Upon the Preparations for the Execution
of Lord Rochford and Queen Anne  459
LETTER VL
Sir fVilliam- Kingston to the same. — Upon the same
Subject  460

ORIGINAL LETTERS,
ILLUSTRATIVE OF PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF WOLSEY.
LETTER VII.
IJenry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, to his BedfeUom
and Cosyn Thomas Arundei. — Complains of In
juries received at the Hands of Cardinal Wolsey.
Humble Solicitations for his Favour in certain
Matters  462
LETTER VIIL
The same to Secretary Cromwell. — Denying a Contract,
or Promise of Marriage, having ever existed be
tween Anne Boleyn and himself  464

CONTENTS. XXVU
LETTER IX. Page
Queen Catherine of Arragon and King Henry VIIL to
Cardinal Wolsey .r-'A joint Letter, about the coming
of the Legate, and Expressions of Kindness . . 465
LETTER X.
Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. — Thanking him for
his diligent Pains in the Affair of the Divorce . . 467
LETTER XI.
The same to the same. — The same Subject; and the
coming of the Legate  468
LETTER Xn.
Cardinal Wolsey, in his Distress, to Thomas Cromviell . 469
LETTER XIIL
Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary/ Gardener  471
LETTER XW.
The same to the same. — The miserable Condition he is
in, his Decay of Health, and Poverty, and desiring
some Relief at the King's Hands. A melancholy
Picture  474
LETTER XV.
The same to the same. — Desiring Gardener to write and
give him an Account of the King's Intentions in
regard to him  476
LETTER XVI.
The same to the same. — Requesting Crardener to expedite
the Making out his Pardon in large and ample
Form as granted by the King  477

XXVIH CONTENTS.
LETTER XYII.

Page

The same to the same. — In favour of the Provost of
Beverley, and desiring Gardener to intercede with
the King for hisCoUeges ,  , . . 479
LETTER XVIII.
The same to the same. — Desiring his Favour in a Suit
against hun for a Debt of £700. by one Strangwish 48)
LETTER XIX.
Lettre de M. de Bellay Evesque de Bayonne a M. le
Grant Maistre, 17 Oct. 1529. — Containing xm in
teresting Picture of the Cardinal in his Troubles,
and desiring the Intercession of the King of France,
&c. in his Favour  482
LETTER XX.
Thomas Alvard to Thomas Cromwell. — Containing a
genuine Picture of one of the last Interviews with
which Wolsey was favoured by Henry VIII. . . 487

A Parallel between Cardinal Wolsey and
Archbishop Laud, first printed in 1641

CONTENTS. XXIX

ILLUSTRATIVE DOCUMENTS. Page
The Will of Thomas Wolsey, Father to the Cardinal . 502
Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, Notice of his Book against
the Divorce of Henry and Catherine of Arragon . 504
The Schedule appended to the Kong's Gift to the Car
dinal after his Forfeiture by the Premunire . . . 507
A Memoryall of such Communication as my Lorde
Legatts Grace had with the Queenes Almoner. —
Containing a circumstantial Account of Queen
Katherine's Objections to have her Cause finally
judged by the Legates, &c  509
Itinerary of Cardinal Wolsey's last Journey to the
North  516
The Comming and Resey vyug of the Lord CardinaU into
Powles for the Escaping of Pope Clement VII.
A. D. 1527. A" Regni Henrici Vm. xix" . . 519
The Ceremonial of receiving the Cardinal's Hat, sent
by the Pope to Wolsey  522
Specimenof the Poems of Georoe Cavendish . . . 526

DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES.

Fac Simile of the Original Autograph MS. to face this page.
REFERENCE TO THE PLATE.
No. 1. Part of the Text of the commencement of the
Life, with the attestation^ni^s quod G. C.
No. 2. Last Stanza of the Author's Address to his Book,
with the subjoined inscription of the date of the
complietion of the MS. See Preface, p. xvi.
Portrait of Anne Boleyn ....... to face the Title
Portrait of Wolsey  p.Ql
Portrait of King Henry VIII.  79
Cardinal Wolsey in progress  149
Dukes «rf Suffolk and Norfolk receive the great seal from
Wolsey  . 246
Cromwell. Earl of Essex .  258
Tokens sent to Wolsey by the King and Anne Boleyn 288
Portrait of Sir Thomas Wyatt  424

WHO WROTE CAVENDISH'S
LIFE OF WOLSEY?
FIRST PRINTED IN MDCCCXIV.

When a writer undertakes to give cuique suuni
in a question of literary property, if he would
avoid the ridicule which they deservedly incur
who raise a controversy only that they may have
the honour of settUng it, he must show that there
are more claimants than one on the property he
means to assign.
This then will be our first object.
Let the reader turn to the ' Biogra- '^ To whom the
phia Britannica,' and look out the arti- Biographia
attributes it.
cle ' Sir William Cavendish.' He will
find in either of the editions what follows in the
words of Dr. Campbell, the original projector of
that work, or rather of his friend Mr. Morant,
the historian of Essex, for it does not appear
that the later editors have either reconsidered
the article, or added to it any thing material.
Sir William Cavendish, we are told, " had a li
beral education given him by his father, who
settled upon him also certain lands in the county

2 WHO WROTE
of Suffolk; but made a much better provision
for him by procuring him to be admitted into
the family of the great Cardinal Wolsey, upon
whom he waited in quality of gentleman usher
of his chamber."  " As Mr. Cavendish was
the Cardinal's countryman, and the Cardinal had
a great kindness for his father, he took him early
into his confidence, and showed him upon all
occasions very particular marks of kindaess and
respect ^" Several extracts from the Life of
Wolsey are then produced to show the honour
able nature of this employment. Mr. Caven
dish's faithful adherence to Wolsey in his fall
receives due encomium : and; we are then fa
voured with a detail of Mr. Cavendish's public
services after the Cardinal's death, his rich re
wards, his knighthood, marriages, and issue, in
which the writer of the article has followed Sir
William Dugdale, and the Peerages, Towards
the conclusion Cavendish is spoken of in his
charg-cter of an author, a character which alone
could entitle him to admission into that temple
of British worthies. We are told that " he ap
pears from his writings to have been a man of
great honour and integrity, a good subject to his
prinpe, a true lover of his, country, and one who
preserved to the last a very high reverence and

Kippis's Edit. vol. iii. p. 321.

c.wendish's wolsey ? 3
esteem for his old master and first pati'on Car
dinal Wolsey, whose life he wrote in the latter
part of his own, and there gives him a very high
character."  " This work of his remained long
in manuscript, and the original some years ago
was in the hands of the Duke of Kingston, sup
posed to be given by the author to his daughter,
who married into that family. It had been seen
and consulted by the Lord Herbert when he
wrote his history of the Reign of King j,^ ^y^^^
Henry VIIL, but he was either un-^"'^^'^^"*-
acquainted with our author's Christian name, or
mistook him for Ms elder brother George Caven
dish of Glemsford in the county of Suffolk, Esq.
for by that name his lordship calls him : but it
appears plainly from what he says that the history
he made use of was our author's." p. 324<.
Such is the reputation in which the Biographia
Britannica is held in the world, and indeed not
undeservedly, that most writers of English bio
graphy have recourse to it for information : and
with its authority those among them are usually
well satisfied, who neither value, nor are willing
to undertake, the toilsome researches of the ge
nealogist and the antiquary. Another such work,
for an illustrious class of English worthies, is
' The Peerage of England,' begun by the re
spectable and ill rewarded Arthur Collins, and
continued by successive editors with as much
B 2

4 WHO WROTE
exactness as coidd reasonably have been ex-
To whom the pected. The several editions of this
Peaages. ^^^.^^ g-^jji that of 1712, in one volume,
to that of 181*2, in nine, contain the same ac
count of Sir WiUiam Cavendish's attendance
upon Wolsey, of his tried attachment to liim,
and of his lasting gratitude to the memory of his
old master, displayed in writing apologetical me
moirs of his hfe. At the very opening of the
pages devoted to the Devonshire family, in the
regent edition of this work, we are told that
" the potent and illustrious family of Cavendish,
of which, in the last century, two branches ar
rived at dukedoms, laid the foundation of their
future greatness, first, on the share of abbey
lands obtained at the dissolution of monasteries
by Sir William Cavendish, who had been gentle
man usher to Cardinal Wolsey, who died in 1557,
and afterwards by the abilities, the rapacity, and
the good fortime of Elizabeth his Asddow, who
remarried George Earl of Shrewsbury, and died
in 1607 2," And afterwards, in the account of
the said Sir William Cavendish, we are told
nearly in the words used by Morant, that " to
give a more lasting testimony of his gratitude to
the Cardinal, he drew up a fair account of his
life and death, which he wrote in the reigm of

'' Vol. i. p. 302.

cavendish's wolsey ? 5
Queen Mary : whereof the oldest copy is in the
hands of the noble family of Pierrepoint, into
which the author's daughter was married. Lord
Herbert of Cherbury, in the Life and Reign of
King' Henry VIII., quotes the manuscript in
many places, hiit mentions George Cavendish to
he the author of it ; which, from divers circum^
stances, we may conclude to he a mistake. In the
year 1641 it was printed, and again in I667?."
A fuU account is then given of the public employ
ments and honourable rewards of Sir WiUiam Ca
vendish ; and the descent of the two ducal families
of Devonshire and Newcastle from this most for
tunate subject is set forth with aU due regard to
genealogical accuracy.
From these two great public reser- n^vendf h^™
Voirs of Ensj-lish biography this account generally un-
° ox./ derstood to be
of Sir William Cavendish, both as an ^^ author;
author and a man, has been drawn off into innu-
nierable other works. Writers of high authority
in affairs of this nature have adopted it ; and
even historians of the life of Wolsey, upon whom
it appeared to be incumbent to make accurate
inquiry into this subject, have retailed as un
questioned truth what the Biographia and the
Peerages have told us concerning an author to
whose most faithful and interesting narrative

3 Vol. i. p. 314.

6 WHO WROTE
they have been so largely indebted. Sir William
Cavendish may therefore be regarded as the
tenant in possession of this property : nor, as far
as I know, hath his right ever been formally con-
but errone- trovcrtcd. Before the reader has got
''"*'^' to the last page of this little treatise
he wUl probably have seen reason to conclude
that this account is all fable : for that Sir William
Cavendish could not possibly have been the
Cardinal's biographer, nor, of course, the faithful
attendant upon him ; that circumstance of his
history proceeding entirely upon the supposition
that he was the writer of the work in question ^.
While we have thus brought before the public
the person who may be considered as the pre-
sum^d proprietor of this work, we have also made
good our promise to show that there are more
claimants than one upon this piece of literary
property. Lord Herbert, we have seen, quotes
the manuscript as the production of a George
A third claim. Caveudish. Other writers of no mean
^^ authority, as will be seen in the course
of this disquisition, have attributed it to another
member of the house of Cavendish whose name
was Thomas.
The editors of the Biographia and the Peer-

¦• See the marginal references in the Biographia and the
Peerages.

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 7
ages have made very light of my Lord Herbert's
testimony. What those divers circumstances
were which led the latter to reject it, as they
have not informed us, so we must be content to
remain in ignorance. The noble historian of
the life and reign of Henry VIII. is not accus
tomed to quote his authorities at random. If
he sometimes endeavour too much to palliate
enoriTuties which can neither be excused nor
softened down, he is nevertheless generally cor
rect as to the open fact, as he is always inge
nious and interesting. Supported by so respect
able an authority, the pretensions of this George
Cavendish of Glemsford to have been the faithful
attendant upon Wolsey, and the lively historian
of his rise and fall, ought to have received a
more patient examination. Descended of the
same parents with Sir Wilham, and by birth the
elder, in fortune he was far behind him. At
a period of great uncertainty the two brothers
took opposite courses. William was for reform,
George for existing circumstances. Contrary
to the ordinary course of events, the first was
led to wealth and honours, the latter left in
mediocrity and obscurity. The former yet lives
in a posterity not less distinguished by personal
merit than by the splendour cast upon them by
the highest rank in the British peerage, the just
reward of meritorious services performed by a

8 WHO WROTE
race of patriots their ancestors. Of the progeny
from the other, history has no splendid deeds to
relate ; and, after the third generation, they are
unknown to the herald and the antiquary. But
this is to anticipate. I contend that the wreath
which he has justly deserved, who produces one
of the most beautiful specimens of unaffected
faithful biography that any language contains,
has been torn from this poor man's brow, to de
corate the temples of his more fortunate brother.
To replace it is the object of the present pub
lication. It wiU, I trust, be shown, to
George Ca- . ^ i i i ¦
vendish the the Satisfaction of the reader, that this
real author. i i />
George Cavendish was the author of
the work in question, and the disinterested at
tendant upon tlie fallen favourite. The illus
trious house of Devonshire needs no borrowed
merit to command the respect and admiration of
the world.
Let it not however be supposed that the writer
is meaning to arrogate to himself the .credit of
being the first to dispute the right of Sir William
Cavendish, and to advance the claim of the real
owner. The possession which Sir William haS
had has not been an undisturbed one : so that
were there any statute of limitations applicable
Writers to literary property, that statute would
TdvlncTd avail him nothing. The manuscript of
his claim, jhig work, which now forms a part of

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 9
the Harleian library, is described by the accurate
Wanley as being from the pen of a Waniey.
George Cavendish ^. In 1742 and the two fol
lowing years, ' A History of tljie Life and Times
of Cardinal Wolsey' was published in four vo
lumes octavo by Mr. Joseph Grove, who Grove.
subjoined, in the form of notes, the whole of
what was then known to the public of these
Memoirs ; describing them in a running title,
' The Secret History of the Cardinal, by George
Cavendish, Esq. :' but, as if to show that no one
who touched this subject should escape defile
ment from the errors of the Biographia and the
Peerages, he confounds together the two bro
thers in the account he gives of the author at
the 98th page of his third volume. During the
remainder of the last century it does not appear
that Sir William Cavendish suffered any material
molestation in his possession of this property :
but in the present century Mr. Francis Douce.
Douce, in his most curious ' Illustrations of
Shakspeare,' restores to George Cavendish the
honour of liaving produced this work, and marks
by significative Jif«/ic* that it was an honour which
another had usurped^. Dr. Words- ^f^or&&.
worth may also be ranked amongst ''°'"''
those writers who have ventured to put a spade
s Catalogue Harl. MSS. No. 428. '= Vol. ii. p. 51.

10 WHO WROTE
into Sir William's estate. To this gentieman
belongs the merit of having first presented to the
public an impression of this work, which con
veys any just idea of the original?. In an ad
vertisement he expresses himself thus cautiously
as to the name of the author : " The following
Life was written by the Cardinal's gentleman-
usher. Cavendish, whose Christian name in the
superscription to some of the manuscript copies
is George, but by Bishop Kennet, in his Memoirs
of the family of Cavendish, by CoUins in his
Peerage', and by Dr. Birch (No. 4233, Ays-
cough's Catalogue Brit. Museum) he is called
William^." Had the learned editor pursued the
question thus started, it is probable he would
have been led to the conclusion which will here
be brought out, and have thus rendered wholly
unnecessary the disquisition now tendered to the

' In his ' Ecclesiastical Biography ; or. Lives of eminent Men
connected with the History of Religion in England,' 6 vols. 8vo. a
useful and valuable collection, Dr. Wordsworth very properly re
jected the parenthesis, " at which time it was apparent that he had
poisoned himself," which had been introduced into the printed
copies without the authority of the manuscripts. The editor of the
Censura Literaria once intimated his intention to prepare an edi
tion of this work. (C. L. iii. 372.) How could the press of Lee
Priory, of whose powers we have had so many favourable speci
mens, have been more worthily engaged than in producing a cor
rect edition of this valuable piece of antiquarian lore, — except in
favouring the public with more of its able du:ector's own feeling
and beautiful essays ?
« Vol. i. p. 321.

CAVENDISH S WOLSEY? 11
notice of tlie public. But here he has suffered
the matter to rest.
And indeed, to say the truth, though Doubts of
there may possibly have been two or cavSh^
three other writers who have intimated "frt gained
a doubt as to the right of Sir WiUiam Z^fthe
Cavendish to the work in question, ^"^^
these doubts seem never to have gained hold on
the public attention. It would be an invidious
task to collect together the many, modern sup
porters of his claim : there are, amongst them,
names who have deservedly attained a high de
gree of celebrity in the walks of biography, hi
story, antiquities, and topography. AU the writer
wishes is, that he may stand excused with the
public in offering what he has coUected upon
this point : and if the concession is made that
the suspicions of Sir WiUiam Cavendish's right
to this piece of biography have never gained
much hold on the pubUc mind, and that it is a
prevailing opinion in the world that the great
ness in which we now behold the house of De
vonshire owes its origin to a train of fortunate
circumstances resulting out of an attendance on
Cardinal Wolsey, he must consider himself as
amply excused.
Let us now hear the evidence.
The learned editor of the ' Eccle- Authorities
in nis la-
siastical Biography' has mentioned se- ™"'

12 WHO WROTE
veral names as supporters of Sir Williani's claim.
And indeed, if names might carry the day. Ken-
net and CoUins, Birch and Morant, are in them
selves a host. But who is there accustomed to
close and minute investigation, that has not dis
covered for himself, of how little moment is
simple authority in any question? It is, espe-
ciaUy, of little weight in historical and antiqua
rian discussion. The most laborious may some
times overlook evidence which is afterwards
accidentaUy discovered to another of far inferior
pretensions : the most accurate may mistake :
the most faithful may be bribed into inattention
by supposititious facts, which give a roundness
and compactness to what, without them, forms
but an imperfect narration. The case before us
may possibly come under the latter head. Take
away the attendance upon Wolsey, and we have
several years unaccounted for in the life of Sir
William Cavendish ; and lose what the mind per
ceives to be a step by which a private gentleman,
as he was, might advance himself into the coun
cils of princes, and the possession of important
offices of state. There is in this what might
lay a general biographer, who was a very Argus,
asleep. But these authorities, it must also be
all modern, observcd, are aU moderns: they lived
a century and a half after both the Cavendishes
had been gathered to their fathers ; and earlier

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 13
biographersi who have made mention of this
fbunder of two ducal houses, have said nothing
of any attendance upon the Cardinal, never
ascribed the flourishing state of his fortunes to
iiny recommendation of him to the king from his
old master, nor taken any notice of what is so
much to his honour, that he adhered faithfully
to Wolsey in his faU, and produced this beauti
ful tribute to his memory. Negative evidence
of this kind, it may be said, is of no great weight.
It wiU be allowed, however, to be of some, when
it is recollected who they are that have omitted
these leading particulars in Sir William Caven
dish's history. They are no other than the au
thor of ' The Baronage of England,'
* & ' Dugdale
and Margaret Duchess of Newcastle, and the
who has given a laboured genealogy Newcastle
of the ancestors and kindred of her ascribe it
lord, a grandson of Sir WiUiam Caven
dish, annexed to the very entertaining memoirs
which she left of his life. The omissions of two
such writers, living at the time when this work
was first made pubUc, and whose duty as well as
inclination it would have been to have men
tioned the fact, had it been so, will at least serve
to weigh against the positive but unsupported
testimonies of the abovementioned respectable
writers, all of whom lived much too late to be

14 WHO WROTE
supposed to have received any information by
private tradition.
The original But the Original manuscript was in
beta &e '" the hands of the Pierrepoint family, and
^Tpl^e. into that famUy Sir WiUiam Caven-
rS ^^' dish's daughter was married. Possibly ;
but were it even so, it is obvious that this lays
but a very insufficient foundation for believing
that Sir WiUiam was the author. Why might it
not have been given to Frances Cavendish by
George Cavendish her uncle ? But Doctor-
Kennet, upon w^hose authority this statement
has been made, has not informed us by what cri
terion he was guided in assigning that priority
to the Pierrepoint manuscript which this state
ment assumes. There are so many manuscripts
of this work abroad, that it must, I presume, be
exceedingly difficult to decide which has the best
claim to be the author's autograph, if indeed that
autograph be in existence ^. Scarcely any work
of this magnitude, composed after the invention
of printing, has been so often transcribed. There

9 The reader will bear in mind that this passage was written in
1814i,,when the writer could not, for obvious reasons, have been
acquainted with the claims of Mr. Lloyd's mannscript, to be consi
dered as the original autograph of the author. I will here take
occasion to observe that, to the manuscripts enumerated above, two
more may be added, described in the preface to the Life, which are
in the possession of the writer of this note. S. W. S.

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 15
is a copy in the cathedral library at York m^y.
which- once belonged to Archbishop ^"'p'*'
Matthew ; another very valuable one in the
library of the CoUege of Arms, presented to that
learned society by Henry Duke of Norfolk ; an
other in Mr. Douce's coUection ; another in the
public library at Cambridge ; another in the Bod
leian. There are two in Mr. Heber's library ;
two at Lambeth; two in the British Museum i.
The reason of this multiplication of reason for
. their multi
copies by the laborious process oi pUcation.
transcription seems to have been this : the
work was composed in the days of Queen
Mary by a zealous catholic, but not committed
to the press during her short reign. It con
tained a very favourable representation of the
conduct of a man who was held in but little
esteem in the days of her successor, and whom
it was then almost treason to praise. The con
duct of several persons was reflected on who were
flourishing themselves, or in their immediate
posterity, in the court of Queen Elizabeth : and
it contained also the freest censures of the Re-

1 It appears by the Catalogus MSS. Anglie that there were two
copies in the library of Dr. Henry Jones, rector of Sunningwell in
Berks, both in folio: and a third also in folio among the MSS. of
the Rev. Abraham De la Pryme, F. R. S. of Thome in Yorkshire.
There was a copy in the very curious library formed about the mid
dle of the last century by Dr. Cox Macro at his house, Norton near
St. Edmund's Bury.

16 WHO WROTE
formation, and very strong remarks upon the
conduct and character of Anne Boleyn, the Car
dinal's great enemy. It is probable that no
printer could be found who had so little fear
of the Star-Chamber before his eyes as to ven
ture the publication of a work so obnoxious :
whUe such was the gratification which all per
sons of taste and reading would find in it, from
its fidelity, its curious minuteness, its lively de
tails, and above aU, from that unaffected air of
sweet natural eloquence in which it is composed,
that many among them must have been desirous
of possessing it. Can we wonder then that so
many copies should have been taken between
the time when it was written and the year 1641,
when it was first sent to the press : or that one
of these copies should have found its way into
the library of Henry Pierrepoint, Marquis of
Dorchester, who was an author, and a man of
some taste and learning 2? It cannot surely be
difficult to divine how it came into his posses
sion, without supposing that it was brought into
his family by Sir WUliam's daughter, his grand
mother, Frances Cavendish.
Trifling as it appears, we have now had nearly
all that has ever been alleged as rendering it

¦' See the ' Royal and Noble Authors,' p. 202. and Fasti Oxon.
vol. ii. col. 706, ed. 1692.

cavendish's wolsey ? 17
probable that Sir WiUiam Cavendish was the
author of this work. We have no evi- no evidence
dence in his favour from any early fto^'&e™""
catalogue of writers in English history : ^^^"
nor any testimony in inscription or title upon
any of the manuscripts, except a modern one
by Dr. Birch, upon one of the Museum copies.
But in appropriating any literary composition to
its author, that evidence is the most conclusive
which is derived from the work itself This
is the kiad of proof to which it is proposed to
bring the claims of the two competitors. It is
contended that there are passages in the work,
and self-notices, which are absolutely incon
sistent with the supposition that it was the pro
duction of the person to whom it has usually
been ascribed. Let us attend to these.
It wiU be of some importance to us Time when
to have clearly ascertained the period at was written.
which this work was composed. We have informa
tion sufficient for this purpose. At * p. 102 in
/>-!-.» -X1T 1 1 5 • ^^ present
page 350 * of Dr. Wordsworth s impres- edition.
sion, we read that the Cardinal " was sent twice
on an embassage unto the Emperor Charles the
Fifth that now reigneth, and father unto King
PhUip, now our soveraign lord." Mary queen
of England was married to Philip of Spain on
the 25th of July, 1554. Again, at page 401,
w^e hear of " Mr. Ratcliffe, who was sonne and

18 WHO WROTE
heire to the Lord Fitzwalter, and nowe*
tograph MS. Earlc of Sussex." The Earl of Sussex
"a.nd after of Quecu Mary's reign, who had been
sex,"°v. p.'" son and heir to a Lord Fitzwalter in
present *e(^- the days of King Henry VIIL, could
*'°°' be no other than Henry Radcliffe, the
second earl of that name, who died on the 17th
of February, 1557 ^. Without incurring any risk
by following older authorities, when so much
misconception is abroad^ we may set down as
fairly proved that the Life of Wolsey was com
posed about the middle of the reign of Queen
Mary 4.

3 Milles's Catalogue of Honour, p. 667..
4 The reader will, it is hoped, excuse the minute-
A supposed ^gg pf jjjjg ii)qui].y -y^g {j^ye enough to teach us to
anachronism . ^ •' °
explained. ^^^'^ nothing upon trust that has been said concerning
this work : and some doubts have been expressed as
to the period at which it was written, grounded on a passage near
the conclusion. Cavendish tells us that when the Cardinal left
the hospitable mansion of the Earl of Shrewsbury at Sheffield, on
the borders of Yorkshire, " he took his journey with Master King
ston and the guard. And as soon as they espied their old master
in such a lamentable estate, they lamented him with weeping eyes.
Whom my lord took by the hands, and divers times, by the way,
as he rode, he would talk with them, sometime with one, and
sometime with another ; at night he was lodged at a house of the
Earl of Shrewsbury's, called Hardwick Hall, very evil at ease.
The next day he rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that night,
more sicker, and the next day we rode to Leicester Abbey ; and by
the way he waxed so sick, that he was divers times likely to have
fallen from his mule." p. S36. This is an affecting picture.
Shakspeare had undoubtedly seen these words, his portrait of the
sick and dying Cardinal so closely resembling this. But in these

CAVENDISH S WOLSEY ? 19
Now we may collect that the author, tiw autii*
whoever he was, thought himself a manf'""'
neglected man at the time of writing. He tells
us that he engaged in the work to. Vindicate
the memory of his master from " diverse son-
drie surmises and imagined tales, made of his
proceedings and dohigs," which he himself had
" perfectiy knowen to be most untru^." We
cannot however but discover, that he was also
stimulated by the desire of attracting attention
to himself, the old and faithful domestic of a
great man whose character was then beginning
to retrieve itself in the eyes of an abused nation,
and whose misfortunes had prevented him from

words is this chronological difficulty. How is it that Hardwick
Hall is spoken of as a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's in the
reign of Henry VIII. or at least in the days of Queen Mary, -when
it was well known that the house of this name between Sheffield
and Nottingham, in which the Countess of Shrewsbury spent her
widowhood, a house described in the Anecdotes of Painting, and
seen and admired, by every curious traveller in Derbyshire, did not
accrue to the possessions of any part of the Shrevrebury family till
the marriage of an earl, who was grandson to the Cardinal's host,
-with Elizabeth Hardwick, the widow of Sir WUliara Cavendish,
Jn the time of Queen Elizabeth ? If I recollect right, this dif
ficulty perplexed that leajned Derbyshire antiquary Dr. Samuel
Pe^e, who has. written somewhat at length on the question, whe-
;ther the Cardinal met his death in consequence of having taken
poison. See Gent. Mag. vol. xxv. p. 27, and vol. liii. p. 7S1. The
editor of the Topographer proposes to correct the text by reading
Wingfield in place of Hardwick ; vol. ii. p. 79. The truth, how
ever, is, that though the story is told to every visitor of Hardwick
Hall, that " the great child of honour. Cardinal Wolsey," slept
there a fe.w nights before his death ; as is also the story, equally
C 2

20 WHO WROTE
advancing his servants in a manner accordant
to his own wishes, and to the dignity of his ser
vice. He dweUs with manifest complacency
upon the words of commendation he received
on different occasions from his master ; and re
lates towards the conclusion how kindly he had
been received by the king after the death of
Wolsey, and what promises had been made to
him both by Henry and the Duke of Norfolk,
who yet suffered him to depart into his own
country. But what shows most strikingly that
he was an unsatisfied man, and thought that he
had by no means had the reward -due to his
faithful services, is a remark he makes after

unfounded, that Mary Queen of Scots was confined there • it was
another Hardwick which received the weary traveller for a night
in this his last melancholy pilgrimage. This was Hardwick upon
Line in Nottinghamshire, a place about as far to the south of
Mansfield, as the Hardwick in Derbysl ire, so much better known,
is to the north-west. It is now gone to much decay, ¦ and is conse
quently omitted in many maps of the county. It is found in
Speed. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury had a house in the time of
Wolsey. Leland expressly mentions it. " The Erie [of Shrews
bury] hath a park and maner place or lodge yn it caullid Harde-
wike upon Line, a four miles from Newstede Abbay." Itin. vol.
V. fol. 94. p. 108. Both the Hardwicks became afterwards the
property of the Cavendishes. Thoroton tells us that Sir Charles
Cavendish, youngest son of Sir William, and father of William
Duke of Newcastle, "had begun to build a great house in this lord
ship, on a hill by the forest side, near Annesley Woodhouse, when
he was assaulted and wounded by Sir John Stanhope and his men,
as he was viewing the work, which was therefore thought fit to be
left off, some bloud being spilt in the quarrel, then very hot be
tween the two families." Throsby's edit. vol. ii. p. 294.

cavendish's wolsey ? 21
having related the sudden elevation of Wolsey
to the deanery of Lincoln. " Here," says he,
" may aU men note the chaunces of fortune that
foUowethe some whome she intendeth to pro
mote, and to some her favor is cleane contrary,
though they travaille never so much, with aU
the painfuU dUigence that they can devise or
imagine : whereof for my part I have tasted of
the experience." p. 332 ^
There are persons whom nothing wiU Not so sir
• r. 1 ^ . t William
satisfy, and they are sometimes the most Cavendish..
importunate in obtruding their supposed neglects
upon the public : but it must surely have been
past all endurance to have had such a complaint

5 The reference is to Dr. Wordsworth's text ; the passage wiU
be found at p. 77 of the present edition. The same strain of
querulous complaint occurs in his prologue to the Metrical Visions ;
How some are by fortune exalted to riches.
And often such as most unworthy be, &c.
Afterwards he checks himself, and calls Dame Reason to his aid :
But after dewe serche and better advisement,
I knew by Reason that oonly God above
Bewlithe thos thyngs, as is most convenyent.
The same devysing to man for his behove :
WTierefore Dame Reason did me persuade and move
To be content vrith my small estate.
And in this matter no more to vestigate.
Here we have decisive proof that the writer's fortunes were not
in the flourishing condition which marked those of Sir AVilliam
Cavendish at this period, i. e. in the reign of Mary.
s. w. s.

22 WHO WROTE
as this preferred by Sir WiUiam Cavendish in
the days of Queen Mary. His life had been a
continual series of promotions and lucrative em-
His employ- ploymcuts. In 1530, the very year in
^^^;/"' the November of which the Cardinal
motions, . •
and rewards. ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ COUStitUtcd OUC of the
commissioners for visiting and taking the sur
renders of divers religious houses. In 1539 he
was made one of the Auditors of the Court of
Augmentations, then lately established. At this
period of his life he was Uving luxuriously at his
mansion of North Awbrey near Lincoln, as ap
pears by the inventory of his furniture there,
which is preserved in manuscript 6. In the next
year he had a royal grant of several lordships

' It formed part of the curious collection of manuscripts made
JohnWil- ''y ^^^ 1*'^ •'o^" Wilson, Esq. of Bromhead near
son of Sheffield, in Yorkshire ; a gentleman who spent a long
Bromhead. jjjg jjj collecting, and transcribing where he could not
procure possession of the original, whatever might throw any light
upon the descent of property, or on the history, language, or
manners of our ancestors. He was the intimate friend and corre
spondent of Burton, Watson, Brooke, Beckwith, and indeed of all
¦ that generation of Yorkshire antiquaries which passed away with
the late Mr. Beaumont of Whitley Beaumont. Mr. Wilson died
in 1783. Cavendish's library was not the best furnished apartment
of his magnificent mansion. For the satisfaction of the gentle
Bibliomaniac, I shall transcribe the brief catalogue of his books.
" Chawcer, Froyssarte Cronicles, a boke of French and English."
They were kept in the new parler, where were also the pictor of
our soVeigne lord the kyng, the pyctor of the Freiiche kyng and
another of the Frenche quene : also ' two other tables, one with
towe anticke boys, & the other of a storye of the Byble.' In ' the

cavendish's wolsey ? 23
in the county of Hertford. In 1546 he was
knighted ; constituted treasurer of the chamber
to the king, a place of great trust and honour ;
and was soon afterwards admitted of the privy
council. He continued to enj oy aU these honours
till his death, a space of eleven years, in which
time his estate was much increased by the grants
he received from King Edward VI. in seven
several counties 7. It was not surely for such a
man as this to complain of the ludibriafortunce,
or of the little reward aU his " painful diligence"
had received. Few men, as Sylvius says, would
have such a " poverty of grace" that they would
not
-think it a most plenteous crop

To glean the broken ears after the man
That such a harvest reaps."
Sir WiUiam Cavendish began the world the
younger son of a famUy of some respectability,
but of no great wealth or consequence ; and he
left it, at about the age of fifty, a knight, a privy
counseUor, and the owner of estates which,
managed and improved as they werfe by his

lyttle parler' was ' a payntyd clothe with the pictor of Kyng
Harry the VIII* our sovereygne lord, & kyng Harry the Vll*
& the VI*, Edward the Forthe & Rychard the Third.'
' The authorities for ,this detail of the employments, rewards,
and honours of Sir William Cavendish are to be found in the
Biographia and the Peerages.

24 WHO WROTE
prudent relict, furnished two houses with the
means of supporting in becoming splendour the
very first rank in the British peerage.
But an ambitious man is not to be contented ;
and men do forin erroneous estimates of their
own deserts : let us see, then, if the work wiU
not supply us with something more conclusive.
Zealous The Writer is fond of bringing for-
Srtn^^ ward his religious sentiments. The
*'™" reader wiU be amused with the foUow-
ing sally against the Reformation, its origin, and
favourers. He who is disposed may find in it
matter for serious reflection. When Cavendish
has related that the king submitted to be cited
by the two legates, and to appear in person
before them, to be questioned touching the
matter of the divorce, he breaks out into this
exclamation : — " Forsoothe it is a world to con
sider the desirous wUl of wUfuU princes, when
they be set and earnestly bent to have their wiUs
fulfiUed, wherein no reasonable persuasions wiU
suffice ; and how little they regard the dangerous
sequeU that may ensue, as weU to themselves as
to their subjects. And above all things, there
is nothing that .maketh them- more wilfuU than
carnaU love and sensuaU affection of voluptuous
desire, and pleasures of their bodies, as was in
this case ; wherein nothing could be of greater
experience than to see what inventions were

cavendish's wolsey ? 25
furnished, what lawes were enacted, what costly
edifications of noble and auncient monasteries
were overthrowne, what diversity of opinions
then rose, what executions were then committed,
how many noble clerkes and good men were then
for the same put to deathe, what alteration of
good, auncient, and holesome lawes, customes,
and charitable foundations were tourned from
reliefe of the poore, to utter destruction and de
solation, almost to the subversion of this noble
realme. It is sure too much pitty to heare or
understand the things that have since that time
chaunced and happened to this region. The
profe thereof hath taught us aU Englishmen the
experience, too lamentable of all good men to
be considered. If eyes be not blind men may
see, if eares be not stopped they may heare, and
if pitty be not exUed the inward man may lament
the sequeU of this pernicious and inordinate love.
Although it lasted but a whUe, the plague thereof
is not yet ceased, which our Lorde quenche and
take his indignation from us ! Qui peccavimus
cum patribus nostris, et injuste egimus." p. 420
and 421.
This passage, warm from the heart, ^
could have been written by none but wimam
'' ^ Cavendish.
a zealous anti-reformist. That certainly
was not Sir WUliam Cavendish. He had been
one of the principal instruments in effecting what

^d WHO WROTE
I must be aUowed to caU a necessary and glorious
work. Men are not accustomed to record their
own condemnation with such a bold, untrem-
bling hand. That hand, which is supposed to
have penned these words, had been once ex
tended to receive the conventual seal of the
Priory of Sheen, and the Abbey of St. Alban's.
The person by whom we are to believe they
were written had been an officer in that court
which was purposely erected to attend to the
augmentation of the king's revenue by the seques
tration of ecclesiastical property ; the proceedr
ings of which court were too often unnecessarUy
harsh and arbitrary, if not unjust and oppresr
sive. Nay, more, at the very time these words
were written. Sir WiUiam Cavendish was living
on the spoUs of those very monasteries whose
overthrow is so deeply deplored; and rearing
out of them a magnificent mansion at Chatsworth
in Derbyshire, to be the abode of himself and
his posterity. After so long and so decided a
passage, it has been thought unnecessary to
quote any other : but throughout the work ap
pears the same zeal in the writer to signalize
himself as a friend to the old profession. May
not this be considered as amounting to somcr
thing almost conclusive against the supposition
that the attendant upon Wolsey and Sir William
Cavendish were the same person ?

cavendish's wolsey? 27
WiU it be said that he turned witii
Sir WiUiam
the times ; that he who, in the Pro- Cavendishdid not
testant reigns, had been zealous for change with
^^ the times.
the Gospel, in the Catholic reign was
equally zealous for the Ma^s : and that this work
was his amende to the offended party ? I know
not of any authority we have for charging this
religious tergiversation upon Sir WiUiam Caven
dish, who, for any thing that appears in his
history, was animated by other views in pro
moting the cause of reform, than the desire of
personal advancement, and of obtaining the fa
vour of his prince : and I am prepared with two
facts in his history, not mentioned by former
writers, which are unfavourable to such a sup
position. The first shows that he was in some
disgrace at the court of Queen Mary as late as
the fourth year of her reign ; the second, that
he did not seek to ingratiate himself there. On
the 17th of August, 1556, a very peremptory
order of councU was issued, commanding his
" indelaid repaire" to the court to answer on
" suche matters as at his comyng" should be de
clared unto him. The original, subscribed by
seven of the Queen's councU,is among the WUson
collections mentioned in the note a,t page 22.
What the particular charges were it is not ma
terial to our argument to inquire. The next
year also, the year in which he died, he ungra-

28 WHO WROTE
ciously refused a loan of one hundred pounds
required of him and other Derbyshire gentlemen
by the Queen, when her majesty was in distress
for money to carry on the French war. These
facts show that though he was continued in the
offices of treasurer of the chamber and privy
counseUor, he was in no very high esteem with
Queen Mary, nor sought to concUiate her favour
able regards. To which we may add, that his
lady, whose spirit and masculine understanding
would probably give her very considerable in
fluence in the deliberations of his mind, was
through life a firm friend to the Reformation,
and in high favour with Queen EUzabeth.
Whatever effect the preceding facts and argu
ment may have had upon the reader's mind, there
is a piece of evidence stiU to be brought out^
which is more conclusive against the claim of Sir
William Cavendish. Soon after the Cardinal
was arrested at his house of Cawood in York
shire, Cavendish tells us that he resorted to his
lord, " where he was in his chamber sitting in a
chaire, the tables being spred for him to goe to
dinner. But as soone as he perceived me to
come in, he feU out into suche a wofuU lamenta
tion, with suche ruthefuU teares and watery eies,
that it would have caused a flinty harte to mourne
with him. And as I could, I with others com
forted him ; but it would not be. For, quoth

cavendish's wolsey ? 29
he, nowe I lament that I see this gentieman
(meaning me) how faithefuU, how dilligent, and
how painefuU he hath served me, abandonning
his owne country, v}ife and children, his house
and family, his rest and quietnesse, The author
Oidy to serve me, and I have nothinge "f^*^ ^e^
to rewarde him for his highe merittes." *^°" ^^^'
p. 517.
Hence it appears that the Cavendish who
wrote this work was married, and had a family
probably before he entered into the Cardinal's
service, certainly while he was engaged in it.
At what precise period he became a member of
the Cardinal's household cannot be collected
from his own writings. Grove says it was as
early as 1519 ^ ; the Biographia teUs us that the
place was procured for him by his father, who
died in 1524. This however is certain, that the
first mention of himself, as one in attendance
upon the Cardinal, is in the exceedingly curious
account he has given of the means used to break
the growing attachment between the Lord Percy
and Anne Boleyn, in order to make way for the
king. Cavendish was present when the Earl of
Northumberland took his son to task. This
must have been before the year 1527; for in
that year the Lord Percy became himself Earl
" Life and Times, &c. vol, iii. p. 98.

30 WHO Wrote
of Northumberland ; and probably it was at least
a twelvemonth before ; for ere the old Earl's de
parture, a marriage had been concluded between
Lord Percy and the Lady Mary Talbot, a
daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury ^. In 1526

jjajy s Though little ceremony and probably as little
Countess of time was used in patqhing up these nuptials. As
Northum- might be expected, they were most unhappy. So we
" ™ ¦ are told on the authority of the earl's own letters in the
very laboured account of the Percy family given in the edition of
Cdllins's Peerage, 1779; perhaps the best piece of family history
in our language. " Henry the unthrifty," Earl of Northumber
land, died at Hackney in the prime of life, about ten or twelve
years after he had consented to this marriage. Of this term but a
very small part was spent in company of his lady. He lived loijg
enough, however, not only to witness the destruction of all his
own happiness, but the sad termination of Anne Boleyn's life. In
the admirable account of the Percy family^ referred to above, no
mention is made of the lady who, on these terms, consented to be
come Countess of Northumberland, in her long widowhood. She
had a valuable grant of abbey lands and tythes, from which, pro
bably, she derived her principal support. One letter of hers has
fallen into my hands. It presents her in an amiable position. She
is pleading in behalf of a poor man whose cattle had been im
pounded by one of Lady Cavendish's agents. Its date and place is
to the eye'Wormhill*; but the running hand of that age, when
not carefully written, is not to be depended on for representing
proper names with perfect exactness, and the place may be Wres-
hill, which was a house of the Northumberland family. She died
in 1572 ; and on the 17th of May her mortal remains were de
posited in the vault made by her father in SJieffield church, where
sleep so many of her noble relatives, some of them in monumental
honours.

In ju.,t.ce to the amiable author of this essay, who is extremely anxious to be
accurate, I thmk it proper to apprise the reader that the note talcen from the former
edition of his work at p. 127 must be qualified by what is here stated. In a letter

cavendish's wolsey ? 31
then, the Cavendish who wrote this work was a
member of Wolsey's household. Now,
fortunately for this inquiry, it happens wiuiam
, Cavendish.
that an exact account has been pre
served of the several marriages and the numerous
issue of Sir William Cavendish. It is to be found
in the funeral certificate, which, according to a
laudable custom of those times, was entered by
his relict among the records of the College of
Arms. This document, subscribed by her own
hand, sets forth that her husband's first-born
chUd came into the world on the 7th of January,
in the 25th year of King Henry VIIL This
answers to 1534 : that is at -least seven years
after the Cavendish, for whom we are inquiring,
had become a member of Wolsey's famUy, and
more than three years after the Cardinal had re
marked that his gentleman usher had left " wife
and children, his home and famUy, his rest and
quietnesse," only to serve him. This is decisive.
The document which contains these rf^e funeral
famUy particulars of the Cavendishes is ^h^'^^^e
not known only to those gentlemen ^""^^
who have access to the arcana of the College of

with which I have been favoured, he says, " I have looked again and again at
the letter, and the word is certainly (if we may judge from the characters which the
lady's pen has formed) Wormhill : yet still I think it must have been intended
for Wreshill, as I have met with nothing else to show that the lady had a house at
Wormhill." S. W. S.

32 who wrote
Arms. It has been published: and it is re
markable that Arthur Collins, who has been a
principal cause of the error concerning the author
of this work, gaining such firm hold on the
public mind, should have been the first to lay
before the public a record which proves beyond
dispute that the Cavendish who wrote the Life
of Wolsey could not be the Cavendish who was
the progenitor of the house of Devonshire. It
is printed in his ' Noble Families,' where is a
more complete account of the Cavendishes than
is to be found in his Peerage, and which might
have been transferred with advantage into the
later editions of that work. This document has
also been printed by Guthrie and Jacob, whose
account of the nobUity of this nation may often
be consulted with advantage, after having read
any of the editions of CoUins. Of its authen
ticity, the only point material to this inquiry, no
suspicion can reasonably be entertained.
We have now brought to a conclusion our
inquiry into the right of the tenant in possession.
It has been questioned, examined, and, I think,
disproved. It is not contended that the com
mon opinion respecting Sir William Cavendish's
attendance upon Wolsey does not harmonize well
enough with what is known of his real history,
and to render our, proof absolutely complete, it
might seem to be almost incumbent upon us to

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 33
show how Sir William Cavendish was engaged
whUe Wolsey's biographer was discharging the
duties of his office as an attendant upon the
Cardinal. Could we do this, we should also
disclose the steps by which he attained to his
honourable state employments, and the favour
of successive monarchs. In the absence How the
. . . Ill early years
of positive testimony I would be per- ofsirwu-
. . liam Caven-
mitted to hazard the conjecture, that aishmay
in early life he foUowed the steps of spent.
his father, who had an office in the court of Ex
chequer. Such an education as he would re
ceive in that court would render him a most fit
instrument for the purpose in which we first
find his services used, the suppression of the
monasteries, and the appropriation of the lands
belonging to them to his royal master. Having
signalized his zeal, and given proof of his abUity
in this service, so grateful to the King, we may
easily account for his further employments, and
the promotions and rewards which foUowed them.
Let it however be observed, that this is no
essential part of our argument ; nor shaU I pursue
the inquiry any further, mindful of the well
known and sage counsel of the Lord ChanceUor
Bacon. I would however be permitted to say some
thing on that very extraordinary woman, the
lady of Sir William Cavendish, and the sharer

34 WHO WROTE
with him in raising the family to that state of
afiluence and honour in which we now behold
it. Indeed she was a more than equal sharer.
He laid the foundation, she raised the super
structure ; as she finished the famUy palace
at Chatsworth, of which he had laid the first
stone. His lady This lady was Elizabeth Hardwick,
^^^^a- ^ ^^"^^ famUiar to aU visitors of the
racter. couuty of Derby, where she lived more
than half a century with Uttle less than sovereign
authority, having first adorned it with two most
splendid mansions. The daughter, and the vir
gin widow of two Derbyshire gentlemen of mo
derate estates, she first stepped into consequence
by her marriage with Sir WiUiam Cavendish, a
gentleman much older than herself • The cere
mony was performed at the house of the Marquis
of Dorset i, father to the Lady Jane Grey, who,
with the Countess of Warwick and the Earl of
Shrewsbury, was a sponsor at the baptism of her
second chUd. Cavendish left her a widow with
six children in 1557. Shortly after his death
Marries Sir shc uuitcd hersclf to Sir WiUiam St.
WaHam St.
Lowe ; Lowe, onc of the old attendants of the

> Broadgate in Leicestershire. See the Funeral Certificate.
They were married on the 20th Aug. 1 Edw. VI., at two o'clock
after midnight.

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 35
Princess Elizabeth, on whose accession to the
throne he was made captain of her guard. In
1567, being a third time a widow, she was raised
to the bed of the most powerful peer
of the realm, George Talbot, Earl of Countess of
Shi-ewsbury. He had been a friend of '^'^^ "^'
Sir William Cavendish, and it is possible that the
magnificent state which he displayed in the im
mediate neighbourhood of this lady had more
than once excited her envy. She loved pomp
and magnificence and personal splendour, as
much as she enjoyed the hurry and engagement
of mind which multiplied worldly business brings
with it. She had a passion for jewels, which was
appealed to and gratified by the un- Has a pre.
happy Mary Queen of Scotland 2, ivho Jeweif from
Uved many years under the care of the q^„ ^^
Earl of Shrewsbury, her husband. She ^""^
united herself to this nobleman more, as it should
seem, from motives of ambition, than as the
consequence of any real affection she had for
him. He had unquestionably the sincerest re
gard for her : and, though she forgot many of
the duties of a wife, it continued many years in
the midst of all that reserve and perfidity, and
even tyranny, if, such a word may be aUowed,

" Among the Wilson collection is a list of jewels presented to
the Countess of Shrewsbury by the Queen of Scotland.
D 2

36 WHO WROTE
which she thought proper to exercise towards
him. The decline of this good and great man's
life affords a striking lesson how utterly insuf
ficient are wealth and splendour and rank to
secure happiness even in a case where there is
no experience of the more extraordinary vicissi
tudes of fortune, the peculiar danger of persons
in elevated situations. Probably the happiest
days of the last three and twenty years of his
life were those in which he was employing him
self in preparing his own sepulchre. This he
Death of occupied in 1590. But the effect of
the Earl. j^^g jjj adviscd uuptials extended beyond
his life. His second countess had drawn over
to her purposes some of his famUy, who had
assisted her in the designs she carried on against
her husband. She had drawn them closely to
her interest by alliances with her own famUy.
Hence arose family animosities, which appeared
in the most frightful forms, and threatened the
most deadly consequences ^- Much may be
seen respecting this extraordinary woman in
the Talbot papers published by Mr. Lodge. A
bundle of her private correspondence has been

3 See " Memoirs of the Peers of England during the Reign of
James the First," p. 19. Lodge's " Illustrations," &c. iii. 50 —
6*. and Harl. MS. in Brit. Mus, No. 4836. fol. 325 and 6846.
fol. 97.

cavendish's WOLSEY ? 37
preserved, and forms a curious and valuable part
of that collection of manuscripts which we have
had occasion more than once to mention. These
let in much light upon her conduct. It is im
possible to contemplate her character in this
faithful mirror without being convinced that Mr.
Lodge has drawn the great outlines of it cor
rectly, when he describes her as " a Mr. Lodge's
woman of masculine understanding and her.
conduct ; proud, furious, selfish, and unfeeling^."
Yet she was a favourite of Queen Elizabeth, who
paid her this compliment soon after her last
marriage, that " she had been glad Anecdote of
T 1 CI • T 1 Queen
to see my Lady bamt Lowe, but was Elizabeth.
more desirous to see my Lady Shrewsbury, and
that there was no lady in the land whom she
better loved and liked." These flattering ex
pressions were used to Mr. Wingfield, who was
a near relation of this lady, and who lost no time
in reporting them to her. Most of these letters
are upon private affairs : a few only are from
persons whom she had engaged to send her the
news of the day, as was usual with the great
people of that age when absent from court.
There are several of the letters which ^^4^,5 ^
she received from Saint Lowe and ^"'

" Illustrations," &c. Introd. p. 17.

38 WHO WROTE
Shrewsbury, which show how extraordinary was
the influence she had gained over their minds.
There is one from Sir WUliam Cavendish.
Having laboured to show what the knight did
not compose, I shaU transcribe in the note be
low this genuine fragment of his writing, though
in no respect worthy of pubUcation, except as
having passed between these two remarkable
characters ®. It is expressed in a strain of fami-
Uarity to which neither of his successors ever
dared aspire. To conclude the history of this
lady, she survived her last husband about seven
teen years, which were spent for the most part
at Hardwick, the place of her birth, and where
she had buUt the present noble mansion. There
she died in I6O7, and was interred in the great
church at Derby.
The courteous reader wUl, it is hoped, par
don this digression ; and now set we forth on

„ . . , 5 To Besse Cavendysh
Original •'
Letter of my wyff.
Sir William Good Besse, haveing forgotten to wryght in my
aven s. letters that you shuld pay OtewellAlayne eight pounds
for certayne otys that we have bought of hym ov^ and above x" that
I have paid to hym in hand, I hertely pray you for that he is de-
syrus to receyve the rest at London, to pay hyRi uppon the sight
hereof. You knowe my store and therefore I have appoyntyd hym
to have it at yo^ hands. And thus faer you well. From Chattes-
worth the xiii'h of Aprell. W. C.

cavendish's wolsey ? 39
the second stage of our inquiry. Who wrote
Cavendish's Life of Wolsey ?
When there are only two claimants ciahn of
.„ , . Thomas
upon any property, ii the pretensions cavendish.
of one can be shown to be groundless, those of
the other seem to be established as a necessary
consequence. But here we have a third party.
Beside Sir WiUiam and his elder brother George,
a claimant has been found in a Thomas Caven
dish. In the account of Wolsey given in the
Athenae ^, Wood calls the author by this name :
and Dodd, a Catholic divine, who published
a Church History of England in 3 vols, folio,
(Brussels, I737.) in a list of historiains and
manuscripts used in the preparation of his work,
enumerates " Cavendish Thomas, Life of Car
dinal Wolsey, Lond. 1590." It is very prdbable
that Dodd may have contented himself with
copying the name of this author from the
Atheriag, a book he used : and it is with the ut
most deference, and the highest possible respect,
for the wonderfiil industry and the extraordinary
exactness of the Oxford antiquary, I would in
timate my opinion that, in this instance, he has
been misled. To subject the pretensions of
Thomas Cavendish to such a scrutiny as that to

« Ath. Oxon. vol. i. eol. 569. ed. 1691.

40 WHO WROTE
which those of Sir WiUiam have been brought
is quite out of the question : for neither Wood
nor Dodd have throAvn any light whatever on
his history or character. He appears before us
like Homer, nomen, et prceterea nihil. There
was a person of both his names, of the Grim-
stone famUy, a noted navigator, and an author
in the days of Queen Elizabeth ; but he lived
much too late to have ever formed a part of the
household of Cardinal Wolsey.
We must now state the evidence in favour
of George Cavendish. The reader wiU judge
for himself whether the testimony of Anthony
Wood, and that of the Catholic church-historian,
supposing them to be distinct and independent
testimonies, is sufficient to outweigh what is to
be advanced in support of George Cavendish's
claim. We shall first state on what grounds the
work is attributed to a Cavendish whose name
was George ; and secondly, the reasons we have
for believing that he was the George Cavendish
of Glemsford in Suffolk, to whom my Lord
Herbert ascribes the work.
^^ , On the former point the evidence
That the _ ^
writer's name is whoUy external. It Ues in a smaU
was George. compass ; but it is of great weight.^ It
consists in the testimony of aU the ancient ma
nuscripts which bear any titie of an even date

cavendish's wolsey ? 41
with themselves 7 : and in that of the learned
herald and antiquary Francis Thinne, a contem
porary of the author's, who, in the Ust of writers
of English history which he subjoined to Hol-
linshead's Chronicle, mentions " George Caven
dish, Gentleman Vsher vnto Cardinal Woolseie,
whose life he did write."
Now to our second point. Four ronrcir-
. n ,^ ,^ , • . . • cumstances
Circumstances ot the authors situation oftheau-
are discovered to us in the work itself: dition aSsco-
viz. that his life was extended through work."
the reigns of Henry VIIL Edward VI. and
Queen Mary ; that whUe he was in the Cardi
nal's service he was a married man, and had a
family : that he was in but moderate circum
stances when he composed this memoir ; and
that he retained a zeal for the old profession of
reUgion. If we find these circumstances con
curring in a George Cavendish, it is probable
we have found the person for whom we are in
search.

7 None of the publishers of this work have given us . .
the original title. I shall here transcribe it as it ap- tidf^f the^
pears upon the manuscript in the Library of the Col- work.
lege of Arms. Thomas Wolsey, late Cardinal! intituled
of S' Cidle trans Tiberim presbyter and
Lord Chauncellar of England, his lyfe
and deathe, compiled by George
Cavendishe, his gentleman Usher.

42 WHO WROTE
Scanty as is the information afforded us con
cerning a simple esquire of the days of the Tu-
dors, it wiU probably be made apparent that
these circumstances do concur in the person
to whom my Lord Herbert ascribes the work.
Men of little celebrity in their lives, and whose
track through the world cannot be discovered
by the light of history, are sometimes found
attaining a faint and obscure " life after death"
in the herald's visitation books and the labours
of the scrivener. Those roUs of immortality are
open to every man. They transmit to a re
mote posterity the worthless and the sUly with
as much certainty as the name of one who was
instinct with the fire of genius, and whom a
noble ambition to be good and great distin
guished from the common herd of men. It is
in these roUs only that the name of George
Cavendish of Glemsford is come down to us : he
forms a link in the pedigree : he is a medium in
the transmission of manorial property.
Obscurity -^^^ *^^^ ^^^Y obscurity creates a pre-
Ca^mdih sumptiou in favour of his claim. What
a presump- employment that should raise him into
tion m his r J
favour. notice would be offered in the days of
Henry and Edward to the faithful and affection
ate attendant upon a character so unpopular
among the great as the haughty, low-born Wol
sey ? What should have placed his name upon

cavendish's wolsey? 43
pubUc record who did not, like CromweU and
some other of Wolsey's domestics, "find him
self a way out of his master's wreck to rise in"
by throwing himself upon the court, but retired,
as Cavendish at the conclusion of the Memoirs
teUs us he did, to his own estate in the country,
with his wages, a small gratuity, and a present
of six of the Cardinal's horses to convey his fur
niture ? That, Uving at a distance from the
court, he should have been overlooked on the
change of the times, cannot be surprising : he
was only one among many who would have equal
claims upon Mary and her ministry. Had she
lived indeed tiU his work had been published,
we might then reasonably have expected to have
seen a man of so much virtue, and talent, and
reUgious zeal, drawn from his obscurity, and his
name might have been as weU known to our hi
story as that of his brother the reformist. But
Mary died too soon for his hopes and those of
many others of his party, though not too soon
for the interests of religion and humanity. All
expectation of seeing the admirer and apologist
of Wolsey emerge from his obscurity must end
with the accession of the protestant princess
Elizabeth. It is therefore not surprising, and on Wh.-it is
known of
the whole rather favourable to our ar- George Ca.
1 11 1 • 1 vendish of
gument, that nearly all which can now Glemsford.

44 wiio wrote
be collected of George. Cavendish of Glems
ford is contained in the foUowing passage ex
tracted from certain " Notices of the manor
of Cavendish in Suffolk, and of the Cavendish
famUy whUe possessed of that manor," which was
communicated to the Society of Antiquaries by
Thbmas Ruggles, Esq., the owner of the said
manor ^. Cavendish, it wiU be recoUected, is a
manor adjoining to Glemsford, and which be
longed to the same parties.
George Cavendish is stated to be the eldest
son of Thomas Cavendish, Esq. who was clerk
of the pipe in the Exchequer. He " was in pos
session of the manor of Cavendish Overhall, and
had two sons ; WUliain was the eldest, to whom,
in the fourth year of PhUip and Mary, 1558, he
granted by deed enroUed in Chancery this manor
in fee, on the said WiUiam, releasing to his fa
ther one annual payment of twenty marks, and
covenanting to pay him yearly for life, at the site
of the mansion-house of Spains-haU, in the pa
rish of Finchingfield, in the county of Essex,
forty pounds, at the four usual quarterly days
of payment. When George Cavendishe died is
uncertain : but it is apprehended in 1561 or
1562. " William Cavendishe his son was in posses-
* Archseologia, vol. xi. p. 50 — 62.

cavendish's wolsey ? 45
sion of the manor in the fourth year of Eliza
beth."  " He was succeeded in this estate by
his son WiUiam Cavendysh of London, mercer,
who, by that description, and reciting himself to
be the son of WiUiam Cavendishe, gentleman,
deceased, by deed dated the 25th of July, in the
eleventh year of the reign of Elizabeth, 1569,
released aU his right and title to this estate, and
to other lands lying in different parishes, to Wil
liam Downes of Sudbury, in Suffolk, Esq."
This detaU plainly intimates that His fortune
decay of the consequence and circum- ^^y^-
stances of a famUy which we might expect from
the complaints in the Memoirs of Wolsey, of the
unequal dealings of fortune, and of the little
reward aU the writer's "painfuU diligence" had
received. We see George Cavendish, for a small
annual payment in money, giving up the ancient
inheritance of his famUy, a manor called after his
own name : and only eleven years 3.fter, that very
estate passed to strangers to the name and blood
of the Cavendishes by his grandson and next
heir, who was engaged in trade, in the city of
London. Wefind also what we have the Married be-
concurrent testimony of the heralds of '"'^ '*^^-
that time to prove, that this George Cavendish
was married, and the father of sons : but on a
closer inspection we find more than this : we dis-

46 who wrote
cover that he must have been married as early as
1526, when we first find the biographer of Wol
sey a member of the Cardinal's household 9.
WiUiam Cavendish, the younger, grandson to
George Cavendish, must have been of fuU age
before he could convey the estate of his forefa
thers. He was born therefore as early as 1548.
If from this we take a presumed age of his father
at the time of his birth, we shall arrive at this
conclusion, that George Cavendish the grand
father was a famUy-man at least as early as 1526.
a cathoUc. To another point, namely, the religious
profession of this Suffolk gentleman, our proof,
it must be aUowed, is not so decisive. I rely
however, with some confidence, upon this fact,
for which we are indebted to the heralds, that
he was nearly allied to Sir Thomas More, the
idol of the Catholic party in his own time, and
the object of just respect with good men in all
times, Margery his wife being a daughter of
WiUiam Kemp of Spains-haU in Essex, Esq. by
Mary Colt his wife, sister to Jane, first wife of
the Chancellor 1. Indeed it seems as if the
Kemps, in whose house the latter days of this

" See page 4.
' See Vincent's Suffolk. MS. in Col. Arm. fol. 149, and com
pare with Morant's Essex, vol. ii. p. 363, and with the account of
the Cavendishes in the Peerages.

cavendish's wolsey? 47
George Cavendish were spent, were of the old
profession. The extraordinary penance to which
one of this famUy subjected himself savours
strongly of habits and opinions generated by the
Roman Catholic system. It is per- Lived in
1 - -11 the three
haps unnecessary, m the last place, reigns.
to remind the reader, that what Mr. Ruggles
has discovered to us of the owner of Caven
dish shows that his life was extended through
the reigns of the second, third, and fourth
monarchs of the house of Tudor : now the fa
mUy pedigrees present us with no other George
Cavendish of whom this is the truth. And here
the case is closed.
It has been thought proper to annex Genealogy.
the foUowing genealogical table, , which exhibits
the relationship subsisting among the several
members of tbe house of Cavendish whose
names have been mentioned in the preceding
treatise.

48

WHO WROTE

Thomas Cavendish, =j=Alice, daughter and heir of

Clerk of the Pipe.
Wm dated 13th April, 1523.
Died next year.

John Smith of Padbrook-
hall, CO. SufF.

^ I
George, =
of Glemsford and
Cavendish, Esq.
eldest sonandheir.
Gentleman usher
to Cardinal Wol
sey, and writer of
his life. Born
about 1500. Died
about 1561 or
1562.

:MaB.GEIIY, daughter of
Wm. Kemp,
of Spains-
hall, Essex,
niece to Sir
Thos. More.

SirWlLLIAM,: of North
Awbrey, and
Chatsworth,
Knt. Auditor
of the Court
of Augmen
tations, &c.
Under age
1523. Died
1557.

I 
I
William, gent.
Owner of the
manor of Caven
dish 1562. II
William,
of London, mer
cer. Sold Ca
vendish 1569.

1. Hene\,
ofTutbury

2. William,
created Earl of
Devonshire 16
Jac. I. 1618. I
3. Sir Charles,
ofWelbeck,
father of William
Duke of Newcas
tle.

=ELIZABETH,third wife, daughter of
John Hardwick,
of Hardwick, co.
Derby, Esq. wi
dow of Robert
Barlow, of Bar
low, in the same
county. She sur
vived Cavendish,
and married Sir
Wm. St. Lowe,
and George 6th
Earl of Shrews
bury.

1. Frances,
Wife of Sir
Henry Pierre
point.

2. Elizabeth,
Wife of Charles
Stuart, Earl of
Lenox. II
3. Mary,
Wife of Gilbert
Talbot, Earl of
Shrewsbury.

Origin of
the mis
taken ap-

Supposing that the reader is con
vinced by the preceding evidence and
propriation arguments, that this work could not
of tiUS work. , , , . r. C^. -r-ry^ ¦•
be the production of Sir William Ca
vendish, and that he was not the faithful attend-

cavendish's wolsey? 49
ant upon Cardinal Wolsey, I shall give him cre
dit for a degree of curiosity to know how it hap
pened that a story so far from the truth gained
possession of the public mind, and established
itself in so many works of acknowledged autho
rity. That desire I shall be able to gratify, and
wUl detain him but a little while longer, when
the disclosure has been made of a process by
which error has grown up to the exclusion of
truth, in which it wUl be aUowed that there is
something of curiosity and interest. Error, like
rumour, often appears parva metu primo, but,
like her also, vires acquirit eundo. So it has
been in the present instance. What was at first
advanced with aU the due modesty of probabUity
and conjecture, was repeated by another person
as something nearer to certain truth : soon every
thing which intimated that it was only conjec
ture became laid aside, and it appeared with the
broad bold front in which we now behold it.
The father of this misconception was Kennet.
no other than Dr. White Kennet. In I7O8,
being then only Archdeacon of Huntingdon, this
:eloquent divine published a sermon which he
.had delivered in the great church at Derby, at
the funeral of WUliam the first Duke of Devon
shire. Along with it he gave to the world Me
moirs of the Family of Cavendish, in which
nothing was omitted that, in his opinion, might
E

50 WHO WROTE
tend to set off his subject to the best advantage.
He lauds even the Countess of Shrewsbury, and
this at a time when he was called to contemplate
the virtues and all womanly perfections of Chris
tian Countess of Devonshire. It was not to be
expected that he should forget the disinterested
attendant upon Wolsey, and the ingenious me
morialist of that great man's rise and fall ; whose
work had then recently been given to the pubUc
in a third edition. After reciting from it some
particulars of Cavendishes attendance upon the
Cardinal, and especially noticing his faithful ad
herence to him when others of his domestics had
fled to find a sun not so near its setting, he con-
eludes in these words : " To give a more lasting
testimony of his gratitude to the Cardinal, he
drew up a fair account of his life and death, of
which the oldest copy is in the hands of the
noble family of Pierrepoint, into which the au
thor's daughter was married : for without express
authority we may gather from circumstances, that
this very writer was the head of the present
femily; the same person with the immediate
founder of the present noble famUy, WiUiam
Cavendish of Chatsworth, com. Derb. Esq."p. 63.
Coffins. The editors of the Peerages, ever
attentive to any disclosure that may add dignity
to the noble famUies whose lives and actions are
the subjects of their labours, were not unmind-

cavendish's wolsey? 51
ful of this discovery made by the learned Arch
deacon. The book so popular in this country
under the name of CoUins's Peerage was pub
lished by tiie industi'ious and highly respectable
Arthur Collins, then a bookseller a,t the Black
Boy in Fleet-slareet, in a single volume, in the
year 1709. In the account of the Devonshire
lamUy no more is said of Sir WUUam -Cavendish
tksta had been told by Dugdale, and than is the
unidoubt^i truth 2. But when, in 1712, a new
edition appeared, we find added to the account
of Sir WUliaan C9.vendish aU that the Archdeacon
had said of Mr. Cavendj^h^ tiie atten,dant upon
Wolsey: but, with this remarkable difference,
arising profeably in nothing more blanjewprthy
than inattention, that whUe Kennet had written
" for without express authority we may gather
from eircumstg-nees, &e." CoUins says, "for
with express authority we may gather from cir
cumstances, &c.^" A third edition appeared in
1715, in two volumes, in which no change is
made in the Cavendish article^. In 1735 the
.P,eierag<e h>ad assumed a higher character, a©d
appeared with the arms engraven on copper
plates, in four handsome octavo volumes. In
ttiis editjipri w.e iind the wliole article has been
recooaposed ; and we no longer hear of the
» See page 84.. 3 See p. IGO. i Vol. i. p. 106.
E 2

52 WHO WROTE
gathering from circumstances, or the with or
without express authority ; but the account of
Sir WiUiam Cavendish's connexion with the Car
dinal is told with all regularity, dovetaUed with
authentic particulars of his life, forming a very
compact and, seemingly, consistent story^. The
only material change that has been introduced
in the successive editions of a work which has
been so often revised and reprinted, has arisen
from the discovery made by some later editor,
that my Lord Herbert had quoted the work as
the production of a George Cavendish. The
gentle editors were not however to be deprived
of what tended in their opinion so much to the
credit of the house of Cavendish, and rendered
the account they had to give of its founder so
much more satisfactory. Without ceremony,
therefore, they immediately put down the quota
tion to the inaccuracy and inattention of that
noble author.
TheBiogra- Having once gained an establish-
P "¦ ment in a work so highly esteemed and
so widely dispersed, and carrying a primd facie
appearance of truth, it is easy to see how the

5 Vol. i. p. 122. It is singular enough that in this edition the
name of the Cardinal's attendant and biographer, by a slip of the
pen, is written George. See line 38. It is plain from the connexion
that this must have been an unintended blunder into the truth. It
was duly corrected in the later editions.

cavendish's WOLSEY? 53
error would extend itself, especiaUy as in this
country the number of persons is so smaU who
attend to questions of this nature, and as the
means of correcting it were not so obvious as
since the publication of the " Ecclesiastical Bio
graphy." But it assumed its most dangerous
consequence by its introduction into the Bio
graphia. The greatest blemish of that extremely
valuable coUection of English lives seems to be
that its pages are too much loaded with stale
genealogy taken from the commonest of our
books. Wherever Collins afforded them informa
tion, the writers of that work have most gladly
accepted of it, and have

• whisper'd whence they stole

Their balmy sweets,"
by using in many instances his own words. His
facts they seem to have generaUy assumed as in
dubitable. In the present instance nothing more
was done than to new-mould the account given
of Sir WiUiam Cavendish in the later editions of
the Peerage, and, by an unprofitable generaliza
tion of the language, to make his mixture of
truth and fable more palatable to the taste of
their readers.
Poor Arthur CoUins was not the only ^^^ jj,^
bookseUer who took advantage of the '"'"'^^'"•
learned archdeacon's unfortunate conjecture.
There was one Bragg, a printer, at the Blue BaU

54 WHO WROTE
in Ave Maria Lane, a man df no very high cha
racter ill his profession, who published in 1706-
an edition of Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, taken
from the second edition by Dorman Newman,
and with all the errors and omissions of that most
unfaithful impression. Copies were remaining
upon his shelves wherl Kennet's sermon made
its appearance. Rightly judging that this must
cause inquiries to be made after a book, the pro
duction of one who was the progenitor of a per
son and famUy at that particular period, from
a concurrence of circumstanced, the subject of
universal conversation, he cancelled the anony
mous title-page of the remaining copies, and
issued what he called a " Second Edition," with
a long Grub-street title beginning thus :
Sir William Cavendish's
Memoirs of the Life of Cardinal Wolsey,
&c.
This has sometimes been tnistaken for a really
new editioii of the work.
Editions of And having thus adverted to the
the work. different editions, it may not be impro-
per to d^dd a few words on the impressions which
have been issued of this curious biographical
fragment. TUl Dr. Wordsworth favoured the
public with his " Ecclesiastical Biography,"
what we had Was rather an abridgement than
the genuine work. But even in its mutilated

cavendish's wolsey ? 55
form it was always popular, and the copies were
marked at considerable prices in the bookseUers'
catalogues. The first edition, it is believed, is that im 4to,
London, 1641, for WiUiam Sbeeres, with the
titie " Tbe Negotiations of Thomas Woolsey,
the great CardinaU of England, &c. composed
by one of his own Servants, being his Gentie-
man-Usher." The second was. in 12mo, Lon
don, 1667, for Dorman Newman, and is entitled
" The Life and Death of Thomas Woolsey,
Cardinal, &c written by one of his own Ser
vants, being his Gentleman-Usher." The third
is the one just mentioned in 8vo, London,, I7O6,
for B. Bragg, and having for its title " The
Memoirs of that great Favourite Cardinal Wool
sey,. &c." It is supposed that it was first made
public in order to provoke a comparison between
Wolsey and the unpopular Archbishop Laud.
These are the only editions known to the writer.
It is printed in the form of notes to Grove's
History of the Life and Times of Cardinal
Wols^^, again in the Harleian Miscellany, and

6 Mr. Grove subsequently, (in 1761) met with what he con
sidered " an antient and curious manuscript copy written about
one 'hundred and fifty years ago," and from this he printed an
edition, in 8v#, with a preface and notes, the advertisement to
which bears the above date. It appears to be one of the rarest of
English books, and was probably never published : the copy with

56 WHO wrote
in the selection from that work. And last of
aU, it forms a most valuable part of the " Eccle
siastical Biography," published by Dr. Words
worth. It must not however be concealed
The sup- J z* i-11
posed edition that mcntiou has becu made oi a still
earlier edition than any of those above
described. Bishop Nicholson, in his English
Historical Library 7, asserts that it was published
at London in 4to, 1590 ; and in this he is fol
lowed by Dodd the Catholic historian. Nichol
son's authority is not very high in respect of
bibliographical information ; and there is great
reason to believe that he has here described an
edition to be found only in the Sihliotheca ab-
scondita of Sir Thomas Brown. This however
is certain, that the commentators on Shakspeare
are agreed, that though the, labours of Caven
dish must have been known in part to our great
Dramatist, he has followed them so closely in
many of his scenes, it could have been only by
a perusal of them in manuscript, or by the ample
quotations made from them in the pages of Hol-

which I have been favoured by Richard Heber, Esq. M. P. having
no title-page. There are other curious tracts in the volume on the
subject of Wolsey, having separate titles bearing no bookseller's
name, but purporting to be printed for the Author by Dryden
Leach, and all in 1761, ' S. W. S.
Mto, 1776, p. 116.

cavendish's wolsey ? 57
linshead and Stowe. Mr. Malone indeed ex
pressly affirms that they were not sent to the
press before 1641. The earliest edition known
to the editor of the Censura Literaria, whose in
timate acquaintance with early English literature
every one acknowledges, and whose attention
has been peculiarly drawn to this work, was of
that date. The catalogues, published and un
published, of most of our principal libraries have
been consulted, and no earUer edition than that
of 1641 found in any one of them. No earlier
edition than that is to be found in the Royal
Library at Paris. It appears, therefore, on the
whole, most probable that though there are un
doubtedly black-letter stores, which the dUigence
of modern bibliomaniacs has not brought to
Hght, no such edition exists, as that which the
author of the English Historical Library teUs
us was published in the reign of Queen Eliza
beth, and during the height of the persecutions
which she authorized against the Catholics.
Under this persuasion the succeeding sheets have
been composed.
It is possible that Bishop Nicholson may have
been misled by another work on the same sub
ject ; The Aspiring, Triumph, and Fall of
Wolsey, by Thomas Storer, Student of Christ
Church. This appeared in quarto, 1599.
The writer now lays down his pen Conclusion.

58 WHO WROTE
with something like a persuasion that it will be
allowed he has proved his two points, — ^that Sir
WiUiam Cavendish of Chatsworth could not
have been the author of the Life of Wolsey, and
that we owe the work to his brothei* George
Cavendish of Glemsford. The necessary infer
ence also is,, that the foundation of the present
grandeur of the house of Cavendish was not laid,,
as is commonly understood, in an attendance
upon Cardinal Wolsey, and in certain favourable
circumstances connected with that service. The
inquiry, even in all its bearings, like many other
literary inquiries, cannot be considered as of
very high importance. The writer wiU not
however affect to insinuate that he considers it
as of no consequence. In works so universaUy
consulted as the Biographia. and the Peerages,
it is desirable that no errors of any magni
tude should remain' undetected and unexposed.
Error begets^ error, and truth begets truth : nor
can any one say how much larger in both cases
may be tbe oispring than the sire. I do not
indeed scruple to acknowledge, that, though not
without a relish for inquiries which embrace
objects of far greater magnitude, and a disposi
tion justly to appreciate their value, I should be
thankful to the man who should remove my un
certainty, as to whose countenance was concealed
by the Masque de Fer, or would teU me whe-

cavendis-h's wolsev i 5Q
ther Richard was the hunch-backed tyraaaty and
Harry " tbe nimble-footed mad^cap'' exhibited
by our great dramatist j whether Charles wrote
tbe lEiKsev tia,(riA(xiff and Lady Packington " The
whole Duty of Man." Not that I would place
this humble disquisition on a level with the in
quiries which have been instituted and so learn
edly conducted into these several questions.
In one material point, however, even this dis
quisition may chaUenge an equality with them.
There is a much nearer approach made to cer
tainty than in the discussions of any of the
abovementioned so much greater questions.
There are amongst readers of books some
persons whose minds being every moment oc
cupied in the contemplation of objects of the
highest importance, look down with contempt
upon the naturalist at his leucophree, the critic
at his fj^v and Je work, the astronomer at his
nebulce, and the toUing antiquary at every thing.
One word to these gentlemen before we part.
To them may be recommended the words of a
writer of our own day, a man of an enlarged
and highly cultivated mind : —
" He who determines with certainty a single
species of the minutest nioss, or meanest insect,
adds so far to the general stock of human know
ledge, which is more than can be said of many
a celebrated name. No one can tell of what

60 WHO WROTE cavendish's WOLSEY ?
importance that simple fact may be to future
ages : and when we conisider how many mUlions
of our fellow-creatures pass through life without
furnishing a single atom to augment that stock,
we shall learn to think with more respect of
those who do."

THE END.

C^UiDIlSrAI. WOLSEY.

KNf.il WT.D UY !¦'... SrulTT:.N.

^AFTER Ttre OKIGI_N.VI. l>lCri-|!F.

I,md.;i. TuJikjlud Jim'l a:i, hvIl,irMnil.Irii,lwck..i J.rpard

Z\^t Mt of CJjomas WBoWv,
sometime ^rcSfiisgop of |?orite
anft ©arUinal,
tntftulelj ^amtK ©wfliae trans ^ttiwim,
^resittw eCarlJtnalfe, anif H. ©Santtllor of ^Englanlr.
mtittenbp
€i^;otge (HabtnUif), {iometime U^ Gentleman Wiitet.

This Cardinal,

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one ;
Exeeedii^ wise, f«ir spoken, and ^rsuading :
L»fty, and seur, to them that lov'd him not.
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing —
He was most princely : Ever witness for him
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him.
Unwilling to awtKve the good ikaX Mi it 5
The other, though unfinish'd, yet so fainous.
So excellent in art, and yet so rising.
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ;
For then, and not till then, he felt hinjself.
And found the blessedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age
Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Shakspeare.

THE
LIFE

OF

CARDINAL WOLSEY.

THE PROLOGUE.
[Meseems it were no wisdom to credit every
light tale, blasted abroad by the blasphemous
mouth o£ the rude commonalty. For we daUy
hear how, with their blasphemous trump, they
spread abroad innumerable lies, without either
shame or honesty, which prima facie sboweth
forth a visage of truth, as though it were a per
fect verity and matter indeed, whereas there is
nothing more untrue. And amongst the wise
sort so it is esteemed, with whom tiiose bab
blings be of small force and effect.
Forsooth I have read the exclamations of
divers w»rtiiy and nofeaMe authors, made against
such false rumours and fond opinions of the fan
tastical -commonalty, who delightet-h in nothing
more thah to hear strange things, and to see

64 THE LIFE OF
new alterations of authorities ; rejoicing some
times in such new fantasies, which afterwards
give them more occasion of repentance than of
joyfulness. Thus may aU men of wisdom and
discretion understand the temerous madness of
the rude commonalty, and not give to them too
hasty credit of every sudden rumour, until the
truth be perfectly known by the report of some
approved and credible person, that ought to
have thereof true intelligence. I have heard
and also seen set forth in divers printed books
some untrue imaginations, after the death of
divers persons, which in their life were of great
estimation, that were invented rather to bring
their honest names into infamy and perpetual
slander of the common multitude, than other
wise. The occasion therefore that maketh me to
rehearse aU these things is this ; for as much as
I intend, God wiUing, to write here some part
of the proceedings of] i Legate and Cardinal
Wolsey, Archbishop of York, and of his ascending
and descending from honorous estate ; whereof
some part shall be of mme own knowledge, and
some of other person's information.
Forsooth this cardinal was my lord and mas
ter, whom in his life I served, and so remained

' The autograph MS. begins here.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 65
with him, after his fall, continually, during the
term of aU his trouble, untU he died ; as well in
the south as in the north parts, and noted all his
demeanor and usage in all that time ; as also in
his wealthy triumph and glorious estate. And
since his death I have heard diverse sundry sur
mises and imagined tales, made of his proceed
ings and doings, which I myself have perfectly
known to be most untrue j unto the which I
could have sufficiently answered according to
truth, but, as me seemeth, then it was much
better for me to suffer, and dissemble the matter,
and the same to remain stiU as lies, than to
reply against their untruth, of whom I might,
for my boldness, sooner have kindled a great
flame of displeasure, than to quench one spark
of their malicious untruth. Therefore I commit
the truth to Him who knoweth all things. For,
whatsoever any man hath conceived in him when
he Uved, or since his death, thus much I dare
be bold to say, without displeasure to any per
son, or of affection, that in my judgment I never *
saw this realm in better order, quietness^ and
obedience, than it was in the time of his autho
rity and rule, ne justice better ministered with
indifferency ; as I could evidently prove, if I
should not be accused of too much affection, or
else that I set forth more than truth. I wiU
therefore here desist to speak any more in his
F

66 THE LIFE OF
commendation, and proceed farther to his ori
ginal beginning [and] ascending by fortune's
favour to high honours, dignities, promotions,
and riches. Finis quod G. C.

Truth it is, Cardinal Wolsey, sometime Arch
bishop of York, was an honest poor man's son 2,
born in Ipswich, within the county of Suffolk ;
and being but a chUd, was very apt to learning ;
by means whereof his parents, or his good
friends and masters, conveyed him to the Uni
versity of Oxford, where he prospered so in
learning, that, as he told me [in] his own per
son, he Was caUed the boy-bacheUor, forasmuch
as he was made Bachellor of Arts at fifteen
years of age, which was a rare thing, and seldom
seen.

" He was born in the year 1471. See Fiddes's Life of Wolsey,
p. 2. 1726. By some it has been said that his father was a
butcher, but the foundation for this assertion is not known. The
zealous biographer of the cardinal, Mr. Grove, made two suc
cessive journeys to Ipswich for the purpose of obtaining informa
tion respecting him, but the whole fruit of both expeditions was
ascertaining the Christian name of Wolsey's father, and that he
was a man of some substance ! He printed, however, what he
calls " The Life of Robert Wolsey, of Ipswich, Gentleman," in
1761 ! The will of Wolsey's father was published by Dr. Fiddes,
arid for its curiosity I shall give it a place in the Appendix.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 67
Thus prospering and increasing in learning,
[he] was made Fellow of Magdalen CoUege,
and after appointed, for his learning, to be
schoolmaster there ; at which time the Lord
Marquess Dorset had three of his sons there at
school with him, committing as weU unto him
their virtuous education, as their instruction and
learning. It pleased the said marquess against
a Christmas season, to send as well for the
schoolmaster as for his chUdren, home to his
house, for their recreation in that pleasant and
honourable feast. They being then there, my
lord their father perceived them to be right well
employed in learning, for their time : which con
tented him so weU, that he having a benefice ^
in his gift, being at that time void, gave the
same to the schoolmaster, in reward for his dUi
gence, at his departing after Christmas upon his
return to the University. And having the pre
sentation thereof [he] repaired to the ordinary
for his institution and induction ; then being
fuUy furnished of aU necessary instruments at
the ordinary's hands for his preferment, he made
speed without any farther delay to the said
benefice to take thereof possession. And being
there for that intent, one Sir Amyas Pawlet,

' The place was Lymington, in the Diocese of Bath and Wells.
He was instituted October 10, a. d. 1500. Fiddes, p. 5. ,
f2

68 THE LIFE OF
knight, dweUing in the country thereabout, took
an occasion of displeasure against him, upon
what ground I know not^: but, sir, by your
leave, he was so bold to set the schoolmaster by
the feet during his pleasure j the which was
afterward neither forgotten nor forgiven. For
when the schoolmaster mounted the dignity to
be ChanceUor of England, he was not oblivious
of the old displeasure ministered unto him by
master Pawlet, but sent for him, and after many
sharp and heinous words, enjoined him to attend
upon the councU until he were by them dismissed,
and not to depart without license, upon an urgent
pain and forfeiture : so that he continued within
the Middle Temple, the space of five or six
years, or more ; whose lodging there was in the
gate-house next the street, which he reedified
very sumptuously, garnishing the same, on the
outside thereof, with cardinals' hats and arms,
badges and cognisaunces of the cardinal, with
divers other devices, in so glorious a sort, that
he thought thereby to have appeased his old
unkind displeasure.
4 The tradition is, that Wolsey was set in the stocks by Sir
Amyas Pawlet's direction, for disorderly conduct at a fair where
he had drunk to excess. The ground for this assertion is not
known, but it seems to rest upon no earlier authority than that of
Sir John Harrington. It may be remarked that Storer, in his
metrical Life of Wolsey, represents him as the injured party :
" Wrong'd by a knight for no desert of mine."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 69
Now may this be a good example and pre
cedent to men in authority, which will sometimes
work their wUl without wit, to remember in their
authority, how authority may decay ; and [those]
whom they punish of wUl more than of justice,
may after be advanced in the public weal to high
dignities and governance, and they based as
low, who wiU then seek the means to be re-
vengedof old wrongs sustained wrongfuUy before.
Who would have thought then, when Sir Amyas
Pawlet punished this poor scholar, that ever
he should have attained to be Chancellor of
England, considering his baseness in every con
dition. These be wonderful works of God, and
fortune. Therefore I would wish all men in
authority and dignity to know and fear God in
aU their triiinlphs and glory ; considering in all
their doings, that authorities be not permanent,
but may sUde and vanish, as princes' pleasures
do alter arid change.
Then as aU Uving things must of very neces- \
sity pay the due debt of nature, which no earthly
creature can resist, it chanced my said Lord
Marquess to depart out of this present life^.
After whose death this schoolmaster, considering
then with himself to be but a small beneficed

5 September, ISO I.

70 THE LIFE OF
man, and to have lost his feUowship in the Col
lege (for, as I understand, if a feUow of that
college be once promoted to a benefice he shaU
by the rules of the house be dismissed of his
feUowship), and perceiving hintiself also to be
destitute of his singular good lord, thought not
to be long unprovided of some other succour or
staff, to defend him from all such harms, as he
lately sustained.
1J- And in his travail thereabout, he feU in ac
quaintance with one Sir John Nanphant^ a very
grave and ancient knight, who had a great room 7
in Calais under King Henry the Seventh. This
knight he served, and behaved him so discreetly,
and justly, that he obtained the especial favour
of his said master ; insomuch that for his wit,
gravity, and just behaviour, he committed all the
charge of his office unto his chaplain. And, as
I understand, the office, was the treasurership of
Calais, who was, in consideration of his great
age, dischargied of his chargeable room, and
returned again into England, intending to live
" Fiddes asserts that Sir John Nanfan was a Somersetshire gen
tleman, Nash, in his History of Worcestershire states, that the
father and the son have been confounded, and that it was Sir
Richard Nanfan, a gentleman of that county, who was captain of
Calais about this time, i. e. circa 1S03. His son's name was Sir
John; but it is evident that the words a very grave and ancient
knight can only apply to Sir Richard.
' Place, or office.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 71
more at quiet. And through his instant labour
and especial favour his chaplain was promoted
to the king's service, and made his chaplain.
And when he had once cast anchor in the port of
promotion, how he wrought, I shall somewhat
declare. He, having then a just occasion to be in the
present sight of the king daily, by reason he
attended, and said mass before his grace in his
private closet, and that done he spent not the
day forth in vain idleness, but gave his attend-^
ance upon those whom he thought to beafl
most rule in the councU, and to be most in
favour with the king, the which at that time were
Doctor Fox, Bishop of Winchester, then secre
tary and lord privy seal, and also Sir Thomas
LoveU, knight, a very sage counseUor, and witty ^
being master of the king's wards, and constable
of the Tower ^.
These ancient and grave counseUors in pro
cess of time after often resort, perceived this
chaplain to have a very fine wit, and what wis
dom was in his head, thought [him] a meet and
an apt person to be preferred to witty affairs.
^ Wolsey had not only the address and good qualities neces
sary to the acquisition of such friends, but also retained them to
the last. The affection of Bishop Fox is apparent in the last letter
which he wrote to him ; and Sir Thomas Lovell's esteem was
manifested to the close of his life, for he leaves him in his will
" a standing cup of golde, and one hundred marks in gplde."

72 THE LIFE OF
It chanced at a certain season that the king
had an urgent occasion to send an ambassador
unto the emperor MaximUian^, who lay at that
present in the Low Country of Flanders, not far
from Calais. The Bishop of Winchester, and
Sir Thomas LoveU, whom the -king most highly
esteemed, as chief among his counseUors (the
king one day counseUing and debating with
them upon this embassy), saw they had a con
venient occasion to prefer the king's chaplain,
whose excellent wit, eloquence ^, and learning
they highly commended to the king. The king
giving ear unto them, and being a prince of an
excellent judgment and modesty, commanded
[them] to bring his chaplain, whom they so much
commended, before his grace's presence. At
whose repair [thither] to prove the wit of his
chaplain, the king fell in communication with
him in matters of weight and gravity : and, per
ceiving his wit to be very fine, thought him
sufficient to be put in authority and trust with
this embassy ; [and] commanded him thereupon
to prepare himself to this enterprise and journey.

9 This mission related to the intended treaty of marriage be
tween Henry the Seventh, and the Duchess Dowager of Savoy.
' Shakspeare represents the cardinal as " Exceeding wise, fair
spoken and persuading ;" and one of the charges exhibited against
hira was, that " at the privy council he would have all the words
to himself^ and consumed the time with a fair tale !"

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 7^
and for his depeche ^, to repair to his grace and
his trusty counsellors aforesaid, of whom he
should receive his commission and instructions.
By means whereof he had then a due occasion
to repair from time to time into the king's pre
sence, who perceived him more and more to be
a very wise man, and of a good entendment 3.
And haying his depeche, [he] took his leave of
the king at Richmond about noon, and so came
to London with speed [about four of the clock ^],
where then the barge of Gravesend was ready
to launch forth, both with a prosperous tide and
wind. Without any farther abode he entered
the barge, and so passed forth. His haippy
speed was such that he arrived at Gravesend
within littie more than three hours ; where he
tarried no longer than his post horses were
provided ; and traveUing so speedUy with post
horses, that he came to Dover the next morn
ing early, whereas the passengers ® were ready
under saU displayed, to sail to Calais. Into
which passengers without any farther abode he
entered, and saUed forth with them, [so] that he
arrived at Calais within three hours, and having

" Dispatch. 2 Understanding. * Wordsworth's Ed.
5 By passengers the reader will see by the context that the pas
sage boats are meant. It was the usual phrase to signify a ferry
man, and also his boat, from pdssager, Fr. Thus in Baret's
Alvearie, " A passenger, one that conveyeth over many, convector."

74 THE LIFE OF
there post horses in a readiness, departed incon
tinent, making such hasty speed, that he was
that night with the emperor ; who, having under
standing of the coming of the King of England's
ambassador, would in no wise defer the time,
but sent incontinent for him (his affection unto
King Henry the Seventh was such, that he
rejoiced when he had an occasion to show him
pleasure). The ambassador having opportunity,
disclosed the sum of his embassy unto the em
peror, of whom he required speedy expedition,
the which was granted ; so that the next day
he was clearly dispatched, with aU the king's
requests fuUy accompUshed. At which time he
made no farther tarriance, but with post horses
rode incontinent that night toward Calais again,
conducted thither with such number of horse
men as the emperor had appointed, and [was] at
the opening of the gates there, where the passen
gers were as ready to return into England as
they were before in his advancing; insomuch
that he arrived at Dover by ten of the clock
before noon ; and having post horses in a readi
ness, came to the court at Richmond that night.
Where he taking his rest for that time untU the
morning, repaired to the king at his first coming
out of his grace's bedchamber, toward his closet
to hear mass. Whom (when he saw) [he]
checked him for that he was not past on his

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 75
journey. " Sir," quoth he, " if it may stand with
your highness' pleasure, I have already been
with the emperor, and dispatched your affairs, I
trust, to your grace's contentation." And with
that delivered unto the king the emperor's letters
of credence. The king, being in a great confuse
and wonder of his hasty speed with ready fur
niture of all his proceedings, dissimuled aU his
imagination and wonder in that matter, and de
manded of him, whether he encountered not his
pursuivant, the which he sent unto him (sup
posing him not to be scantly out of London)
with letters concerning a very necessary cause,
neglected in his commission and instructions,
the which the king coveted much to be sped.
" Yes, forsooth. Sire," quoth he, " I encountered
him yesterday by the way : and, having no un
derstanding by your grace's letters of your plea
sure therein, have, notwithstanding, been so
bold, upon t^ne own discretion (perceiving that
matter to be very necessary in that behalf) to
dispatch the same. And for as much as I have
exceeded your grace's commission, I most hum
bly require your gracious remission and pardon."
The king rejoicing inwardly not a Uttle, said
again, " We do not only pardon you thereof,
but also give you our princely thanks, both for
the proceeding therein, and also for your good

76 THE LIFE OF
and speedy exploit ^," commanding him for that
time to take his rest, and to repair again to him
after dinner, for the farther relation of his em
bassy. The king then went to mass ; and after
at convenient time he went to dinner.
It is not to be doubted but that this am
bassador hath been since his return with his
great friends, the Bishop of Winchester, and
Sir Thomas LoveU, to whom he hath declared
the effect of aU his speedy progress ; nor yet
what joy they conceived thereof. And after his
departure from the king in the morning, his
highness sent for the bishop, and Sir Thomas
LoveU ; to whom he declared the wonderful
expedition of his ambassador, commending
therewith his exceUent wit, and in especial the
invention and advancing of the matter left out of

* Thomas Storer, in his metrical Life of Wolsey, 1S99, has the
following stanza, in which the expedition Wolsey used on this
occasion is not unpoetically alluded to :
" The Argonautic vessel never past
With swifter course along the Colchian main.
Than my small bark with fair and speedy blast
Convey'd me forth, and reconvey'd again ;
Thrice had Arcturus driv'n his restless wain.
And heav'n's bright lamp the day had thrice reviv'd
From first departure, till I last arriv'd."
This poem was reprinted by Mr. Park in the Supplement to the
Harleian Miscellany. There are extracts from it in the Retro
spective Review, Vol. v. p. 27S.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 77
his commission and instructions. The king's
words rejoiced these worthy counseUors not a
littie, for as much as he was of their preferment.
Then when this ambassador remembered the
king's commandment, and saw the time draw
fast on of his repair before the king and his
councU, [he] prepared him in a readiness, and
resorted unto the place assigned by the king,
to declare his embassy. Without all doubt he
reported the effect of all his affairs and pro
ceedings so exactiy, with such gravity, and elo
quence that all the councU that heard him could
do no less but c^^pimend him, esteeming his
expedition to be almost beyond the capacity of
man. The king of his mere motion, and gracious
consideration, gave him at that time for his
diUgent and faithful service, the deanery of
Lincoln?, whicb.%t that time was. pue^of^the
worthiest spiritual" promotions that he gave
under the degree of a bishoprick. And thus
from thenceforward he grew more and more into
estimation and authority, and after [was] pro
moted by the king to be his almoner. Here
may all men note the chances of fortune, that
foUoweth some whom she listeth to promote,
and even so to some her favour is contrary,
though they should travaU never so much, with
' He was collated Feb. 2. a. n. 1508. Le Neve's Fasti.
p. 146.

78 THE LIFE OF
[aU the] urgent dUigence arid painful study, that
they could devise or imagine : whereof, for my
part, I have tasted of the experience.
Now ye shaU understand that all this tale
that I have declared of his good expedition in
the king's embassy, I received it of his own
mouth and report, afrer his faU, lying at that
time in the great park of Richmond, I being
then there attending upon him ; taking an occa
sion upon divers communications, to teU me
this journey, with all the circumstances, as I have
here before rehearsed.
When death (that favoureth none estate, king
or keiser) had taken that prudent prince Henry
the Seventh out of this present life (on whose
soul Jesu have mercy !) who for his inestimable
wisdom was noted and caUed, in every Christian
region, the second Solomon, what practices, in
ventions, and compasses were then used about
that young prince. King Henry the Eighth, his
only son, and the great provision made for the
funerals of the one, and the costly devices for
the coronation of the other, with that virtuous
Queen Catherine \ then the king's' wife newly

' These words follow in most of the manuscripts, but are pro
bably an interpolation : " and mother afterwards of the queen's
highness, that now is, (whose virtuous life and godly disposition
Jesu long preserve, and continue against the malignity of her
corrupt enemies ! )"

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 79
married. I omit and leave the circumstances
thereof to historiographers of chronicles of
princes, the which is no part mine intendment.
After all these solemnities and costiy triumphs
finishedj and that our natural, young, lusty and
courageous prince and sovereign lord. King
Henry the Eighth, entering into the flower of
pleasant youth, had taken upon him the regal
sceptre and the imperial diadem of this fertUe
and plentiful realm of England (which at that
time flourished in aU^abundance of wealth and .
riches, whereof he was inestimably garnished
and furnished), caUed then the golden world, such
grace of plenty reigned then within this realm.
Now let us return again unto the almoner (of
whom I have taken upon me to write), whose head
was fiiU of subtU wit and poUcy, [and] perceiving
a plain path to walk in towards promotion, [he]
handled himself so politicly, that he found the
means to be made one of the king's councU, and^
to grow in good estimation and favour with the
king, to whom the king gave a house at Bride-
weU, in Fleet Street, sometime Sir Richard
Empson's 9, where he kept house for his famUy,
" This house merged to the crown by the attainder of Empson,
and appears to have been a princely dwelling, for in the patent,
an orchard and twelve gardens are enumerated as belonging to it.
The grant bears date in 1510. It stpod upon the ground which is
now occupied by Salisbury Square and Dorset Street, its gardens
reaching to the banks of the river.

80 THE LIFE OF
and he daily attended upon. the king in the
court, being in his especial grace and favour,
[having]! then great suit . made unto him, as
counsellors most commonly have that be in
favour. His sentences and witty persuasions in
the councU chamber [were] ^ always so pithy that
they, always as occasion moved them, assigned
him for his filed tongue and ornate eloquence, to
be their expositor unto the king's majesty in aU
their proceedings. In whom the king conceived
such a loving fafttasy, and in especial for that
he was most earnest and readiest among aU the
councU to advance the king's only wUl and
pleasure, without any respect to the case ; the
king, therefore, perceived him to be a meet in
strument for the accomplishment of his devised
wUl and pleasure, caUed him more near unto
him, and esteemed him so highly that his esti
mation and favour put all other ancient coun
seUors out of their accustomed favour, that
they were in before ; insomuch that the king
committed all his wiU and pleasure unto his dis
position and order. Who wrought so all his
matters, that all his endeavour was only to satisfy
the king's mind, knowing right weU, that it
was the very vein and right course to bring him
to high promotion. The king was young and
¦ Who had. MS. L. ' Was. MS. L.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 81
lusty, disposed all to mirth and pleasure, and
to follow his desire and appetite, nothing mind-.^
ing to travail in the busy affairs of this realm
The which the almoner perceiving very well
took upon him therefore to disburden the kinj;
of so weighty a charge and troublesome busi
ness, putting the king in comfort that he shal \
not need to spare any time of his pleasure, for
any business that should necessarily happen ini
the councU, as long as he, being there and having)
the king's authority and commandment, doubted
not to see all things sufficiently furnished and
perfected ; the which would first make the king
privy of all such matters as should pass through
their hands before he would proceed to the
finishing or determining of the same, whose
mind and pleasure he would fulfiU and follow
to the uttermost, wherewith the king was won-
derly pleased. And whereas the other ancient
counsellors would, according to the office of
good counseUors, diverse times persuade the
king to have sometime an intercourse in to
the councU, there to hear what was done in
weighty matters, the which pleased the king
nothing at all, for he loved nothing worse than
to be constrained to do any thing contrary to
his royal will and pleasure ; and that knew the
almoner very weU,, having a secret intelligence
of the king's natural inclination, and so fast as
the other counsellors advised the king to leave

THE LIFE OF

his pleasure, and to attend to the afiairs of his'
realm, so busily did the almoner persuade him
to the contrary ; which delighted him much, and
caused him to have the greater affection and love
to the almoner. Thus the almoner ruled aU
them that before ruled him ; such [things] did
his policy and wit bring to pass. Who was
now in high favour, but Master Almoner ? Who
had all the suit but Master Almoner ? And who
ruled all under the king, but Master Almoner ?
Thus he proceeded still in favour ; at last, in
came presents, gifts, and rewards so plentifully,
that I dare say he lacked nothing that might
either please his fantasy or enrich his coffers ;
fortune smiled so upon him ; but to what end
^she brought him, ye shall hear after. There
fore let aU men, to whom fortune extendeth her
grace, not trust too much to her fickle favour
and pleasant promises, under colour whereof
she carrieth venemous gall. For when she seeth
her servant in most highest authority, and that
he assureth himself ipost assuredly in her favour,
then tumeth she her visage and pleasant coun
tenance unto a frowning cheer, and utterly for-
saketh him : such assurance is in her inconstant
favour and sugared promise. Whose deceitful
behaviour hath not been hid among the wise sort
of famous clerks, that have exclaimed her and
written vehemently against her dissimulation and
feigned favour, warning all men thereby, the less

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 83
to regard her, and to have her in small estima
tion of any trust or faithfulness.
This almoner, climbing thus hastily on for
tune's wheel, that no man was of that estimation
with the king as he was, for his wisdom and
other witty qualities, he had a special gift of
natural eloquence^, with a filed tongue to pro-

° Dr. Wordsworth has cited a passage from Sir Thomas More,
in his Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, in which is a lively
and characteristic picture, " designed, no doubt, to represent the
cardinal at the head of his own table." I could not refuse myself
the pleasure of laying it before the reader.
"Anthony. I praye you, cosyn, tell on. Vincent. Whan I was
fyrste in Almaine, uncle, it happed me to be somewhat favoured
with a great manne of the churche, and a great state, one of the
greatest in aU that country there. And in dede whosoever might
spende as muche as hee mighte in one thinge and other, were a
ryght great estate in anye countrey of Christendom. But glorious
was hee verye farre above all measure, and that was great pitie,
for it dyd harme, and made him abuse many great gyftes that
God hadde given him. Never was he saciate of hearinge his owne
prayse. So happed it one daye, that he had in a great audience made
an oracion in a certayne matter, wherein he liked himselfe so
well, that at his diner he sat, him thought, on thornes, tyll he might
here how they that sat with hym at his horde, woulde commend
it. And whan hee had sitte musing a while, devysing, as I thought
after, uppon some pretty proper waye to bring it in withal,, at the
laste, for lacke of a better, lest he should have letted the matter
too long, he brought it even blontly forth, and asked us al that
satte at his hordes end (for at his owne messe in the middes there
sat but himself alone) howe well we lyked his oracyon that he
hadde made that daye. But in fayth Uncle, whan that probleme
was once proponed, till it was full answered, no manne (I wene)
eate one morsell of meate more. Every manne was fallen in so
depe a studye, for the fyndynge of some exquisite prayse. For
he that shoulde have brought oute but a vulgare and a common
G %

84 THE LIFE OF
nounce the same, that he was able with the
same to persuade and allure aU men to his pur-

coramendacion, woulde have thoughte himself shamed for ever.
Than sayde we our sentences by rowe as wee sat, from the lowest
unto the hyghest in good order, as it had bene a great matter of
the comon weale, in a right solemne counsayle. Whan it came
to my parte, I wyll not saye it. Uncle, for no boaste, mee
thoughte, by oure Ladye, for my parte, I quytte my selfe metelye
wel. And I lyked my selfe the better beecause mee thoughte my
wordes beeinge but a straungyer, wente yet with some grace in the
Almain tong wherein lettyng my latin alone me listed to shewe-
my cunnyng, and I hoped to be lyked the better, because I sawe
that he that sate next mee, and should saie his sentence after mee,
was an unlearned Prieste, for he could speake no latin at all.
But whan he came furth for hys part with ray Lordes commenda
tion, the wyly Fox, hadde be so well accustomed in courte with the
crafte of flattry that he wente beyonde me to farre.
And that might I see by hym, what excellence a right meane
witte may come to in one crafte, that in'al his whole life studyeth
and busyeth his witte about no mo but that one. But I made
after a solempne vowe unto my selfe, that if ever he and I were
matched together at that boarde agayne : when we should fall to
our flattrye, I would flatter in latin, that he should not contende
with me no more. For though I could be coutente to be out
runne by an horse, yet would I no more abyde it to be out runne
of an asse. But Uncle, here beganne nowe the game, he that
sate hygheste, and was to speake, was a great beneficed man, and
not a Doctour onely, but also somewhat learned in dede in the
lawes of the Churche. A worlde it was to see howe he marked
every mannes worde that spake before him. And it semed that
every worde the more proper it was, the worse he liked it, for the
cumbrance that he had to study out a better to passe it. The
manne even swette with the laboure, so that he was faine in the
while now and than to wipe his face. Howbeit in conclusion whan
it came to his course, we that had spoken before him, hadde so
taken up al among us before, that we hadde not lefte hym one
wye worde to speake after.
Anthony. Alas good manne ! amonge so manye of you, some
good felow shold have lente hym one. Vincent. It needed not

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 85
pose. Proceeding thus in fortune's blissful-
ness, it chanced the wars between the realms
of England and France to be open, but upon
what occasion I know not, in so much as the
king, being fuUy persuaded, and resolved in
his most royal person to invade his foreign
enemies with a puissant army, to delay their
hault^ brags, within their own territory : where
fore it was thought very necessary, that this
royal enterprise should be speedily provided
as happe was Uncle. For he found out such a shift, that in hys
flatteryng he passed us all the mayny. Anthony. Why, what
sayde he Cosyn.'' Vyncent. By our Ladye Uncle not one worde.
But lyke as ] trow Phnius telleth, that whan Appelles the Paynter
in the table that he paynted of the sacryfyce and the death of
Iphigenia, hadde in the makynge of the sorowefull countenances
of the other noble menne of Greece that beehelde it, spente oute so
much of his craft and hys cunnynge, that whan he came to make
the countenance of King Agamemnon her father, whiche hee reserved
for the laste,  he could devise no maner of newe heavy chere
and countenance — but to the intent that no man should see what
maner countenance it was, that her father hadde, the paynter was
fayne to paynte hym, holdyng his face in his handkercher. The
like pageant in' a maner plaide us there this good aunciente ho
nourable flatterer. For whan he sawe that he coulde fynde no
woordes of prayse, that woulde passe al that hadde bene spoken
before all readye, the wyly Fox woulde speake never a word, but
as he that were ravished unto heavenwarde with the wonder of the
wisdom and eloquence that my Lordes Grace hadde uttered in that
oracyon, he fette a long syghe with an Oh ! from the bottome of hys
breste, and helde uppe bothe hys handes, and lyfte uppe bothe his
handes and lift uppe his head, and caste up his eyen into the welkin
and wepte. Anthony. Forsooth Cosyn, he plaide his parte verye ,
properlye. But was that greate Prelates oracion Cosyn, any thyng
prayseworthye.?" Sir Thomas More's Works, tj>. 1221, 1223.
¦¦ i. e. haughty.

86 THE LIFE OP
and plentifully furnished in every degree of
things apt and convenient for the same ; the
expedition whereof, the king's highness thought
no man's wit so meet, for policy and painful tra
vail, as his wellbeloved almoner's was, to whom
therefore he committed his whole affiance and
trust therein. And he being nothing scrupulous
in any thing, that the king would command him
to do, although it seemed to other very dUficUe,
took upon him the whole charge and burden of
aU this business, and proceeded so therein, that
he brought aU things to a good pass and purpose
in a right decent order, as of aU manner of vic
tuals, provisions, and other necessaries, conve
nient for so noble a voyage and puissant army.
AU things being by him perfected, and fur
nished, the king, not minding to delay or neglect
the time appointed, but with noble and valiant
courage advanced to his royal enterprise, passed
the seas between Dover and Calais, where he
prosperously arrived^; and after some abode
there of his Grace, as well for the arrival of his
puissant army royal, provisions and munitions,
as to consult about his princely affairs, marched
forward, in good order of battle, through the
Low Country, until he came to the strong
town of Terouanne. To the which he laid his

5 June 1513.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 87
assault, and assaUed it so fiercely with continual
assaults, that within short space he caused them
within to yield the toAvn. Unto which place the
Emperor MaximUian repaired unto the king our
sovereign Lord, with a puissant army, like a
mighty and friendly prince, taking of the king
his Grace's wages ^ as weU for his own person
as for his retinue, the which is a rare thing sel
dom seen, heard, or read, that an emperor
should take wages, and fight under a king's
banner. Thus after the king had obtained the
possession of this puissant fort, and set aU
things in due order, for the defence and pre
servation of the same to his highness' use, he
departed from thence, and marched toward the
city of Tournay, and there again laid his siege ;
to the which he gave so fierce and sharp as
saults, that they within were constrained of fine
force ' to yield up the town unto his victorious
majesty. At which time he gave the Almoner
the bishoprick of the same See, for some part
of recompense of his pains sustained in that jour-

^ 100 crowns a day.
7 " Heaven and happiness eternal is ri fiyTw/iet?!-, that which is
joined in issue, to which we are intituled, for which we plead, to
which we have right ; from whence by injury and treachery we
have been ejected, and from whence by fine force we are kept out :
for this we do clamare, by the Clergy, our Counsel, in the view of
God and Angels." Montague's Diatribe upon Selden's History of
Tithes,^. 130. W.

88 THE LIFE OF
ney. And when the King had established aU
things there agreeable to his princely pleasure,
and furnished the same with noble valiant cap
tains and men of war, for the safeguard of the
town against his enemies, he returned again into
England, taking with him divers worthy persons
of the peers of France, as the Duke of Lon-
gueville, and Countie Clermont, and divers
other taken there in a skirmish most victo
riously. After whose return immediately, the
See of Lincoln feU void by the death of Doctor
Smith, late bishop of that dignity, the which
benefice and promotion his Grace gave unto his
Almoner^, Bishop elect of Tournay, who wa?
not negligent to take possession thereof, and
made all the speed he could for his consecration :
the solemnization whereof ended, he found the
means to get the possession of aU his prede
cessor's goods into his hands, whereof I have
seen divers times some part thereof furnish his
house. It was not long after that Doctor Bam-
bridge ^, Archbishop of York, died at Rome,
being there the king's ambassador unto the
Pope Julius ; unto which benefice the king pre-

* He was consecrated bishop of Lincoln, March 26, A. D. 15X4.
Le Neve's Fasti, p. 141. W.
9 Bambridge was poisoned (according to Stow) by Rinaldo da
Modena, his chaplain, who was incited to the act by revenge,
having suffered the indignity of a blow from the archbishop.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 89
sented his new Bishop of Lincoln ; so that he f
had three bishopricks ^ in one year given him. I
Then prepared he again of new a^ fast for his '
translation from the See of Lincoln, unto the See
of York. After which solemnization done, and
he being in possession of the Archbishoprick
of York, and Primas Angliee, thought himself
sufficient to compare with Canterbury; and

¦ Dr. Robert Barnes preached a Sermon on the 24th of Decem
ber, 1525, at St. Edward's Church in Cambridge, from which Ser
mon certain Articles were drawn out upon which he was soon
after called to make answer before the Cardinal. Barnes has
left behind him a description of this examination. The sixth of
these Articles was as follows. " I wyll never beleeve that one
man may be, by the lawe of God, a Byshop of two or three
cities, yea of an whole countrey, for it is contrarye to St. Paule,
which sayth, / have left thee behynde, to set in every citye a byshop."
" 1 was brought afore my Lorde CardinaU into his Galary,
(continues Dr. Barnes), and there hee reade all myne articles,
tyll hee came to this, and there he stopped, and sayd, that this
touched hym, and therefore hee asked me, if I thought it wronge,
that one byshop shoulde have so many cityes underneath hym ;
unto whom I answered, that I could no farther go, than St.
Paules texte, whych set in every cytye a byshop. Then asked
hee mee, if I thought it now unright (seeing the ordinaunce of the
Church) that one byshop should have so many cities. I aunswered
that I knew none ordinaunce of the Church, as concerning this
t"hinge, but St. Paules sayinge pnelye. Nevertheles I did see a
contrarye custom and practise in the world, but I know not the
original! thereof. Then sayde. hee, that in the Apostles tyme]
there were dyvers cities, some seven myle, some six myle long,
and over them was there set but one byshop, and of their suburbs
also: so likewise now, a byshop hath but one citye to his cathe-
drall churche, and the country about is as suburbs unto it. Me
thought this was farre fetched, but I durst not denye it." Barnes's
Works, p. 21o'. A. D. 1573. W.

90 THE LIFE OF
thereupon erected his cross in the court, and in
every other place, as well in the presence of the
Archbishop of Canterbury, and in the precinct
of his jurisdiction as elsewhere. And forasmuch
as Canterbury claimeth superiority and obedience
of York, as he doth of all other bishops within
this realm, forasmuch as he is primas totius An
gliee, and therefore claimeth, as a token of an
ancient obedience, of York to abate the ad
vancing of his cross, in the presence of the cross
of Canterbury ; notwithstanding York, nothing
minding to desist from bearing of his cross in
manner as is said before, caused his cross to be
advanced 2 and borne before him, as well in the
presence of Canterbury as elsewhere. Where
fore Canterbury being moved therewith, gave
York a certain check for his presumption ; by
reason whereof there engendered some grudge
between Canterbury and York. And York per
ceiving the obedience that Canterbury claimed
to have of York, intended to provide some such
means that he would rather be superior in dig-

'' This was not the first time in which this point of precedency
had been contested. Edward III, in the sixth year of his reign,
at a time when a similar debate was in agitation, having sum
moned a Parliament at York, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
all the other Prelates of his Province, declined giving their at
tendance, that the Metropolitan of all England might not be
obliged to submit his Cross to that of York, in the Province of
the latter. Fox, p. 387, 388. W,

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 91
nity to Canterbury than to be either obedient
or equal to him. Wherefore he obtained first
to be made Priest Cardinal, and Legatus de
latere; unto whom the Pope sent a Cardinal's
hat, with certain buUs for his authority in that
behalf 3. Yet by the way of communication ye
shaU understand that the Pope sent him this hat
as a worthy jewel of his honour, dignity, and au
thority, the which was conveyed hither in a var-
let's budget, who seemed to aU men to be but a
person of small estimation. Whereof York being
advertised, of the baseness of the messenger,
and of the people's opinion arid rumour, thought
it for his honour meet, that so high a jewel
should not be conveyed by so simple a messen
ger ; wherefore he caused him to be stayed
by the way, immediately after his arrival in
England, where hfe was newly furnished in all
manner of apparel, with aU kind of costiy sUks,
which seemed decent for such an high ambassa-

' Wolsey, in his endeavours to obtain the purple pall, had relied
mudi on the assistance of Adrian, Bishop of Bath, himself a car
dinal, then the Pope's collector in England, but residing at Rome,
and acting by Polydore Vergil, his deputy. Adrian being either
unable or unwilling to render the expected service, Wolsey, con
ceiving that he had been betrayed, seized upon the deputy collector, i
Polydore, and committed him to the Tower, where he remained, I
notwithstanding repeated remonstrances from the court of Romeyj
until the elevation of Wolsey to the cardinalate procured his liberty. '
This will account for the unfavourable light in which Wolsey is
placed in Polydore Vergil's History.

92 THE LIFE OF
dor. And that done, he was encountered- upon
Blackheath, and there received with a great
assembly of prelates, and lusty gaUant gentle
men, and from thence conducted and conveyed
through London, with great triumph. Then was
great and speedy provision ¦* and preparation
made in Westminster Abbey for the confirma
tion of his high dignity ; the which was executed
by all the bishops and abbots nigh or about
London, in rich mitres and copes, and other
costly ornaments ; which was done in so solemn
a wise as I have not seen the like unless it had
been at the coronation of a mighty prince or
king. Obtaining this dignity [he] thought himself
meet to encounter with Canterbury in his high
jurisdiction before expressed ; and that also he
was as meet to bear authority among the tem
poral powers, as among the spiritual jurisdic
tions. Wherefore remembering as weU the
taunts and checks before sustained of Canter-

* " Not farre unlike to this was the receaving of the Cardinals
hatte. Which when a ruffian had brought unto him to Westmin
ster under his cloke, he clothed the messenger in rich aray, and
sent him backe to Dover againe, and appoynted the Bishop of
Canterbury to meet him, and then another company of Lordes
and Gentles I wotte not how oft, ere it came to Westminster,
where it was set on a cupborde and tapers about, so that the
greatest Duke in the lande must make curtesie thereto : yea and to
his empty seat he being away." Tindal's Works, p. 374. Fox's
Acts, p. 902. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 93
bury, which he intended to redress, ' having a
respect to the advancement of worldly honour,
promotion, and great benefits, [he] found the
means with the king, that he was made Chan
ceUor of England ; and Canterbury thereof dis
missed, who- had continued in that honourable
room and office, since long before the death of
King Henry the Seventh s.
Now he being in possession of the chancel
lorship, endowed with the promotion of an Arch
bishop, and Cardinal Legate de latere, thought
himself fully furnished with such authorities and

5 Dr. Fiddes and Mr. Grove remark, that this is a prejudiced
statement of the case, and that Cavendish was misled by false in
formation. It does not indeed appear that Wolsey used any
indirect means to supersede Archbishop Warham, and the follow
ing passages in the correspondence of Sir Thomas More with
Ammonius seem to prove the contrary. Sir Thomas says : " The
Archbishop of Canterbury hath at length resigned the office of
Chancellor, which burthen, as you know, he had strenuously
endeavoured to lay down for some years ; and the long wished for
retreat being now obtained, he enjoys a most pleasant recess in his
studies, with the agreeable reflection of having acquitted himself
honourably in that high station. The Cardinal of York, by the
King's Orders, succeeds him ; who discharges the duty of the post
so conspicuously as to surpass the hopes of all, notwithstanding the
great opinion they had of his other eminent qualities : and what
was most rare, to give so much content and satisfaction after so
excellent a predecessor."
Ammonius, writing to Erasmus, says: "Your Archbishop,
with the King's good leave, has laid down his post, which that of
York, after much importunity, has accepted of, and behaves most
beautifully."

94 THE LIFE OF
dignities, that he was able to surmount Canter
bury in aU ecclesiastical jurisdictions, having
power to convocate Canterbury, and other
bishops, within his precincts, to assemble at his
convocation, in any place within this realm
where he would assign ; taking upon him the
correction of all matters in every diocese, having
there through aU the realm all manner of spi
ritual ministers, as commissaries, scribes, appa
ritors, and all other officers to furnish his courts ;
visited also all spiritual houses, and presented
by prevention whom he listed to their benefices.
And to the advancing of his Legatine honours
and jurisdictions, he had masters of his facul
ties, masters Ceremoniarum, and such other like
officers to the glorifying of his dignity. Then
had he two great crosses of sUver, whereof one of
them was for his Archbishoprick, and the other
for his Legacy, borne always before him whither
soever he went or rode, by two of the most tallest
and comeliest priests that he could get within
all this realm 6. And to the increase of his ga^s
^ This is noticed by the satirist Roy, in his invective against
Wolsey : Before him rydeth two prestes strong^.
And they beare two crosses right long^,
Gapinge in every man's face :
After them follow two lay-men secular.
And each of them holdinge a pillar
In their hondes, insteade of a mjice.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 95
he had also the bishoprick of Durham, and the
Abbey of St. Albans in commendam ; howbeit
after, when Bishop Fox, of Winchester, died,
he surrendered Durham into the King's hands,
and in lieu thereof took the Bishoprick of
Wijjfihester. Then he held also, as it were in
ferme, Bath, Worcester, and Hereford, because
the incumbents thereof were strangers ', born out
of this realm, continuing always beyond the
seas, in their own native countries, or else at
Rome, from whence they were sent by the Pope
in legation into England to the king. And for
their reward, at their departure, the prudent
King Henry the Seventh thought it better to
reward them with that thing, he himself could
not keep, than to defray or disburse any thing
of his treasure. And then they being but
strangers, thought it more meet for their as
surance, and to have their jurisdictions conserved
Then foUoweth my lord on his mule
Trapped with gold, &c.
' Dr. Wordsworth, misled by Anstis, has erroneously attributed
this satire to Skelton, confounding it probably with that writer's ,
" Why come ye not to court."
See note at the end of the Life.
7 Even so early as the reign of Henry III, the annual amount
of the benefices in the hands of Italians, in this, kingdom, was
70,000 marks; more than three times the, value of the whole
revenue of the crown. M. Paris, in Vit. Hen. IIL Ann. 1252.
Wordsworth-

96 THE LIFE OF
and jusdy used, to permit the Cardinal to have
their benefices for a convenient yearly sum of
money to be paid them by exchanges in their
countries, than to be troubled, or burdened with
the conveyance thereof unto them : so that aU
their spiritual promotions and jurisdictions of
their bishopricks were clearly in his domain and
disposition, to prefer or promote whom he listed
unto them. He had also a great number daUy
attending upon him, both of noblemen and wor
thy gentlemen, of great estimation and posses
sions, with no small number of the taUest yeomen,
that he could get in aU this realm, in so much
that well was that nobleman and gentleman, that
might prefer any tall and comely yeoman unto
his service.
Now to speak of the order of his house and
officers, I think it necessary here to be remem
bered. First ye shall understand, that he had
in his hall, daUy, three especial tables furnished
with three principal officers ; that is to say, a
Steward, which was always a dean or a priest ;
a Treasurer, a knight ; and a ComptroUer, an
esquire ; which bare always within his house
their white staves. Then had he a cofferer,
three marshals, two yeomen ushers, two grooms,
and an almoner. He had in the haU,kitcheri
two clerks of his kitchen, a clerk comptroUer, a
surveyor of the dresser, a clerk of his spicery.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 97
Also there in his hall-kitchen he had two master
cooks, and twelve other labourers, and children
as they called them ; a yeoman of his scuUery,
and two other in his silver scullery ; two yeomen
of his pastry, and two grooms s.
Now in his privy kitchen he had a Master
Cook who went daily in damask satin, or velvet,
with a chain of gold about his neck ; and two
grooms, with six labourers and chUdren to serve
in that place ; in the Larder there, a yeoman
and a groom ; in the Scalding-house, a yeoman
and two grooms ; in the Scullery there, two
persons ; in the Buttery, two yeomen and two
grooms, with two other pages ; in the Pantry,
two yeomen, two grooms, and two other pages ;
and in the Ewery likewise : in the Cellar, three
yeomen, two grooms, and two pages ; beside a
gentleman for the month : in the Chaundery,
three persons : in the Wafery, two ; in the
Wardrobe of beds, the master of the Wardrobe,
and ten other persons ; in the Laundry, a yeo
man, a groom, and three pages : of purveyors^
two, and one groom ; in the Bakehouse, a'
yeoman and two grooms ; in the Wood-yard, i,
yeoman and a groom ; in the Garner, one ; in
the Garden, a yeoman and two labourers. Now
at the gate, he had of porters, two tall yeomen
" These are termed under pastelers, in the more recent MSS.
H

98 THE LIFE OF
and two grooms ; a yeoman of his barge : in the
stable, he had a master of his horse, a clerk of
the stable, a yeoman of the same ; a Saddler, a
Farrier, a yeoman of his Chariot, a Sumpter-man,
a yeoman of his stirrup ; a Muleteer ; sixteen
grooms of his stable, every of them keeping four
great geldings : in the Almeserie, a yeoman and
a groom. Now I wUl declare unto you the officers of
his chapel, and singing men of the same. First,
he had there a Dean, who was always a great
clerk and a divine ; a Sub-dean ; a Repeater of
the quire ; a GospeUer 9, a PisteUer ; and twelve
singing Priests : of Scholars, he had first, a Mas
ter of the chUdren ; twelve singing children ; six
teen singing men ; with a servant to attend upon
the said children. In the Revestry i, a yeoman
and two grooms : then were there divers retainers
of cunning singing men, that came thither at
divers sundry principal feasts. But to speak
of the furniture of his chapel passeth my capa
city to declare the number of the costly orna
ments and rich jewels, thdt were occupied in
the same continuaUy. For I have seen there,

• The Gospeller was the priest who read the Gospel. The Pis-
teller, the clerk who read the Epistle.
' Revestry, from the French Revestir ; contractedly written
Vestry.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 99
in a procession, worn forty-four copes of one
suit, very rich, besides the sumptuous crosses,
candlesticks, and other necessary ornaments to
the comely furniture of the same. Now shall ye
understand that he had two cross bearers, and
two pUlar bearers : and in his chamber, aU these
persons ; that is to say : his high Chamber
lain, his Vice Chamberlain ; twelve Gentlemen
ushers, daUy waiters ; besides two in his privy
chamber ; and of Gentlemen waiters in his privy
chamber he had six ; and also he had of Lords
nine or ten \ who had each of them aUowed two
servants ; and the Earl of Derby had aUowed
five men. Then had he of Gentlemen, as cup
bearers, carvers, sewers, and Gentlemen daily
waiters, forty persons ; of yeomen ushers he had
six ; of grooms in his chamber he had eight ;
of yeomen of his chamber he had forty-six.
daUy to attend upon his person ; he had also a
priest there which was his Almoner, to attend
upon his table at dinner. Of doctors and chap
lains attending in his closet to say daUy mass
before him, he had sixteen persons : and a clerk
of his closet. Also he had two secretaries, and

" Those Lords that were placed in the great and privy chambers
were Wards, and as such paid for their board and education. It
will be seen below that he had a particular officer called "¦ In
structor of his Wards." Grove.
H 2

100 THE LIFE OF
two clerks of his signet •, and four counseUors
learned in the laws of the realm.
And for as much as he was Chancellor of
England, it was necessary for him to have divers
officers of the Chancery to attend daily upon
him, for the better furniture of the same. That
is to say : first, he had the Clerk of the Crown,
a Riding Clerk, a Clerk of the Hanaper, a Chafer
of "Wax. Then had he a Clerk of the Check, as
well to check his Chaplains, as his Yeomen of the
Chamber ; he had also four Footmen, which were
apparelled in rich running coats, whensoever he
rode any journey. Then had he an herald at
Arms, and a Sergeant at Arms ; a Physician ;
an Apothecary ; four Minstrels ; a Keeper of
his Tents, an Armourer ; an Instructor of his
Wards ; two Yeomen in his Wardrobe ; and a
Keeper of his Chamber in the court. He had
also daily in his house the Surveyor of York, a
Clerk of the Green Cloth ; and an Auditor. AU
this number of persons were daily attendant
upon him in his house, down-lying and up-rising.
And at meals, there was continually in his
chamber a board kept for his Chamberlains, and
Gentlemen Ushers, having with them a mess
of the young Lords ^, and another for gentlemen.

. 3 Among whom, as we shall see below, was the eldest son of
the Earl of Northumberland. This was according to a practice

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 101
Besides all these, there was never an officer and
gentleman, or any other worthy person in his
house, but he was aUowed some three, some
two servants ; and aU other one at the least j
which amounted to a great number of persons.
Now have I showed you the order of his house.

much more ancient than the time of Wolsey ; agreeably to which,
young men of the most exalted rank resided in the families of
distinguished ecclesiastics, under the denomination of pages, but
more probably for the purposes of education than of service. In
this way Sir Thomas More was brought up under Cardinal Morton,
Archbishop of Canterbury ; of whom he has given a very inte
resting character in his Utopia. From Fiddes's Appendix to the
Life of Wolsey, p. 19, it appears that the custom was at least as
old as the time of Grosthed, Bishop of Lincoln, in the reigu of
Henry HI, and that it continued for some time during the seven
teenth century. In a paper, written by the Earl of Arundel, in the
year 1620, and intitled Instructions for you my son William, how
to behave yourself at Norwich, the earl charges him, " You shall
in all things reverence, honour, and obey my Lord Bishop of
Norwich, as you would do any of your parents : esteeminge what
soever he shall tell or command you, as if your grandmother of
ArundeU, 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 superior to you, were accustomed unto; as
my grandfather of Norfolk, and his brother, my good uncle of
Northampton, were both bredd as pages with bishopps." See also
Paul's Life of Archbishop Whitgift, p. 97.
It is not out of place to mention, what we are told by Sir George
Wheler in his Protestant Monastery, p. 158. A. D. 1698. " I
have heard say, in the times no longer ago than King Charles I,
that many noblemen's and gentlemen's houses in the country
were like academies, where the gentlemen and women of lesser
fortunes came for education with those of the family ; among
which number was the famous Sir Beaville Granville and his
lady, father and mother of our present lord of Bath." W.

102 THE LIFE OF
and what officers and servants he had, according
to his checker roU, attending daUy upon him ;
besides his retainers, and other persons being
suitors, that most commonly were fed in his hall.
And whensoever we shall see any more such
subjects within this realm, that shaU maintain
any such estate and household, I am content he
be advanced above him in honour and estima- ,
tion. Therefore here I make an end of his
household ; whereof the number was about the
sum of five hundred ¦* persons according to his
checker roll.
You have heard of the order and officers of
his house ; now I do intend to proceed forth
unto other of his proceedings ; for, after he was
thus furnished, in manner as I have before re
hearsed unto you, he was twice sent in embassy
unto the Emperor Charles the Fifth, that now
reigneth ; and father unto King PhUip, now our
sovereign lord. Forasmuch as the old Emperor
MaximUian was dead, and for divers urgent
causes touching the king's majesty, it was
thought good that in so weighty a matter, and
to so noble a prince, that the Cardinal was most

•• Dr. Wordsworth's edition says one hundred and eighty. The
manuscripts differ in stating the numbers, the edition of 1641 has
eight hundred persons. And, inconsequence, Wolsey has been so
far misrepresented, by some writers, as to have it asserted that he
kept eight hundred servants I

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 103
meet to be sent on so worthy an embassy.
Wherefore he being ready to take upon him the
charge thereof, was furnished in aU degrees and
purposes most Uke^ a great prince, which was
much to the high honour of the king's majesty,
and of this realm. For first in his proceeding
he was furnished Uke a cardinal of high esti
mation, having aU things thereto correspondent
and agreeable. His gentiemen, being in num
ber very many, clothed in livery coats of crimson
velvet of the most purest colour that might be
invented, with chains of gold about their necks ;
and all his yeomen and other mean officers were
in coats of fine scarlet, guarded with black velvet
a hand broad. He being thus furnished in this
manner, was twice sent unto the emperor into
Flanders, the emperor lying then in Bruges ; If
who entertained our ambassador very highly ^.'^
discharging him and all his train of their charge ;
for there was no house within all Bruges, wherein
any gentiemen of the Lord Ambassador's lay, or
had recourse, but that the owners of the houses
were commanded by the emperor's officers, that
they, upon pain of their lives, should take no

5 At Bruges, " he was received with great solemnity, as be-
longeth unto so mighty a pillar of Christes church, and was sa
luted at the entring into the towne of a merry fellow which sayd.
Salve rex regis tut, atque regni sui, Hayle both king of thy king,
and also of his realme." Tindal's Works, p. 370, A. D. 1572;

104 THE LIFE OF
money for any thing that the cardinal's servants
should take or dispend in victuals ; no, although
they were disposed to make any costly banquets :
furthermore commanding their said hosts, to see
that they lacked no such thing as they desired
or required to have for their pleasures. Also
the emperor's officers every night went through
the town, from house to house, where as any
English men lay or resorted, and there served
their liveries^ for all night; which was done
after this manner : first, the emperor's officers
brought in to the house a cast of fine manchet
bread ', two great sUver pots, with wine, and a
pound of fine sugar ; white lights and yellow ; a
bowl or goblet of sUver, to drink in ; and every
night a staff torch. This was the order of their
liveries every night. And then in the morning,
when the officers came to fetch away their stuff,
then would they accompt with the host for the
gentlemen's costs spent in that night and day
before. Thus the emperor entertained the car
dinal and aU his train, for the time of his embassy
there. And that done, he returned home again
into England, with great triumph, being no less
in estimation with the king than he was before,
but rather much more.

^ Liveries, are things 'livered, i. c. delivered out.
' Bread of the finest flour. J cast is a share or allotment.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 105
Now will I declare unto you his order in going
to Westminster Hall, daUy in the term season.
First, before his coming out of his privy cham
ber, he heard most commonly every day two
masses in his privy closet ; and there then said
his daUy service with his chaplain : and as I
heard his chaplain say, being a man of credence
and of excellent learning, that the cardinal,
what business or weighty matters soever he had
in the day, he never went to his bed with any
part of his divine service unsaid, yea not so
much as one coUect ; wherein I doubt not but
he deceived the opinion of divers persons. And
after mass he would return in his privy chamber
again, and being advertised of the furniture of
his chambers without, with noblemen, gentle
men, and other persons, would issue out into
them, appareled aU in red, in the habit of a car
dinal ; which was either of fine scarlet, or else of
crimson satin, taffety, damask, or caffa, the best
that he could get for money : and upon his head
a round pilUon, with a noble of black velvet set
to the same in the inner side; he had also a
tippet of fine sables about his neck ; holding 'in
his hand a very fair orange, whereof the meat
or substance within was taken out, and filled
up again with the part of a sponge, wherein
was vinegar, and other confections against the
pestUent airs ; the which he most commonly

106 THE LIFE OF
smelt unto, passing among the press, or else
when he was pestered with many suitors. There
was also borne before him first, the great seal
of England, and then his cardinal's hat, by a
nobleman or some worthy gentleman, right so
lemnly, bareheaded. And as soon as he was en
tered into his chamber of presence, where there
was attending his coming to await upon him to
Westminster Hall, as weU noblemen and other
worthy gentiemen, as noblemen and gentiemen
of his own famUy ; thus passing forth with two
great crosses of sUver borne before him^; with
also two great piUars of sUver, and his pursuivant
at arms with a great mace of silver gUt. Then
his gentlemen ushers cried, and said : " On, my
lords and masters, on before; make way for
my Lord's Grace !" Thus passed he down from
his chamber through the hall ; and when he came
to the haU door, there was attendant for him
his mule, trapped aU together in crimson velvet,
and gUt stirrups. When he was mounted, with
' So our author, in his poetical legend, dwells upon this regal
pomp of his master :
' My crossis twayne of silver long and greate.
That dayly before me were carried hyghe.
Upon great horses opynly in the streett ;
And massie pillers gloryouse to the eye.
With pollaxes gylt that no man durst come nyghe
My presence, I was so pryncely to behold ;
Ridyng on my mule trapped in silver and in golde.'
See Appendix.

CARDINAL \V0LSEY. 107
his cross bearers, and pUlar bearers 9, also upon
great horses trapped with [fine] scarlet. Then
marched he forward, with his train and furniture
in manner as I have declared, having about him
four footmen, with gilt poUaxes in their hands ;
and thus he went untU he came to Westminster
HaU door. And there alighted, and went after this
manner, up through the hall into the chancery ;
howbeit he would most commonly stay awhUe at
a bar, made for him, a little beneath the chan
cery [on the right hand], and there commune
some time with the judges, and sometime with
other persons. And that done he would repair
into the chancery, sitting there tiU eleven of the
clock, hearing suitors, and determining of divers
matters. And from thence, he would divers
times go into the star chamber, as occasion did
serve ; where he spared neither high nor low,
but judged every estate according to their meri};s
and deserts.
He used every Sunday to repair to the court,
being then for the most part at Greenwich, in

9 The pillar, as well as the cross, was emblematical, and de
signed to imply, that the dignitary before whom it was carried
was a pillar of the church. Dr. Barnes, who had good reason
why these pillars should be uppermost in his thoughts, glances at
this emblem, in the case of the cardinal, in the following words ;
" and yet it must bee true, because a pillar of the church hath
spoken it." Barnes' Works, p. 210. A. D. 1572. See also Tindal's
Works, p. 370. W.

108 THE LIFE OF
the term ; with all his former order, taking his
barge at his privy stairs, furnished with tall
yeomen standing upon the bayles, and all gen
tlemen being within with him ; and landed again
at the Crane in the vintry. And from thence he
rode upon his mule, with his crosses, his pUlars,
his hat,\and the great seal, through Thames
Street, untU he came to BUlingsgate, or there
about; and there took his barge again, and
rowed to Greenwich, where he was nobly re
ceived of the lords and chief officers of the
king's house, as the treasurer and comptroller,
with others ; and so conveyed to the king's
chamber : his crosses commonly standing for the
time of his abode in the court, on the one side
of the king's cloth of estate. He being thus in
the court, it was wonderly furnished with noble
men and gentlemen, much otherwise than it was
before his coming. And after dinner, among
the lords, having some consultation with the
king, or with the councU, he would depart home
ward with like state ^ : and this order he used
continuaUy, as opportunity did serve.

' It was made One of the Ai;ticles of Impeachment against him :
" That by his outrageous Pride he had greatly shadowed a long
seas(m his Grace's Honour." Art. XLIV. Sir Thomas More,
when Speaker of the House of Commons, noticing a complaint
which had been made by the cardinal, that nothing could be said
or done in that house, but it was presently spread abroad, and be
came the talk of every tavern or alehouse, " Masters, (says he)

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 109
Thus in great honour, triumph, and glory, he
reigned a long season, ruling all things within

forasmuche as my lord cardinall latelie laied to our charges the
lightnes of our tongues for things uttered out of this house, it
shall not in my minde be amisse to receive him with all his pompe,
with his maces, his pUlers, pollaxes, his crosses, his hatt, and the
greate seal too ; to thintent, that if he finde the like fault with us
heereafter, wee male be the bolder from ourselves to laie the
blame on those that his grace bringeth hither with hira." Roper's
Life of Sir Thomas More, p. 21, edit. 1817. Sir Thomas also, in
his Apology, written in the year 1533, reflects severely upon the
change introduced among the clergy, through the cardinall's means,
in the luxury and sumptuousness of their dress. Works, p. 892.
The pulpit likewise occasionally raised its voice against him.
Doctor Barnes, who was burnt in Smithfield in the year 1541,
preached at St. Edward's Church in Cambridge, a sermon, for
which he was called to appear before the cardinal. This was a
part of their dialogue, as it is related in Fox : " What Master
Doctor (said the cardinall) had you not a sufficient scope in the
Scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my pol
laxes, my pillers, my golden cushions, my cross did so sore offend
you, that you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people ?
We were jolily that day langhed to scorne. Verely it was a ser
mon more fitter to be preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at
the last you said I weare a paire of redde gloves, I should say
•bUrudie gloves (quoth you) that I should not be cold in the midst
of my ceremonies. And Barnes answered, I spake nothing but
the truth out of the Scriptures, according to my conscience, and
according to the old doctors." Foa^s Acts, p. 1088. W.
The following curious passage from Doctor Barnes's ' Supplica
tion TO THE King,' printed by Myddelton, in 12mo, without date,
is probably more correct than the exaggeration" of the good old mar-
tyrologist. It opens to us, as Dr. Wordsworth justly remarks, some
part of the philosophy upon which the cardinal defended the fitness
of that pomp and state which he maintained.
" Theie have baculum pastolarem to take shepe with, but it is not
like a shepeherdes hooke, for it is intricate and manifolde crooked,
and turneth always in, so that it may be called a mase, for it hath
jieither beginning nor ending, and it is more like to knocke swine

110 THE LIFE OF
this realm, appertaining unto the king, by his
wisdom, and also aU other weighty matters of

and wolves in the head with, than to take shepe. Theie have also
pillers and pollaxes, and other ceremonies, which no doubte be but
trifels and thinges of nought. I praye you what is tbe cause that
you calle your staffe a shepeherdes staffe .'' You helpe no man
with it ? You comforte no man ? — ^You lift up no man with it .''
But you have stryken downe kynges, and kyngedomes with it ;
and knocked in the head Dukes and Earls with it. Call you this
a sheepeherdes staffe? There is a space in the shepeherdes staffe
for the foote to come oute againe, but youre staffe turneth and
windeth alwayes inwarde and never outewarde, signifieing that
whatsoever he be that cometh within your daunger, that he shall
neuer come oute againe. This exposition youre dedes do declare,
let them be examined that you have had to do with ; and let iis
see howe they have escaped youre shepeherdes hooke. But these
be the articles for the which I must nedes be an heretike, never the
less all the worlde may see how shamefully, that I have erred
agaynst your holinesse in saying the truth. My Lord Cardinall
reasoned with me in this article, all the other he passed over, saving
this and the sixth article. Here did he aske, " if I thought it good
and reasonable, that he shulde lay downe his pillers and pollaxes and
coyne them ? " Here is the heresye that is so abhomynable. /
made him answere, that I thoughte it well done. " Than, {saide he),
howe thynkeyou, were it better for me (being in the honour and dig-
nitie that I am) to coyne my pillers and pollaxes and to give the
money to Jive or sixe beggers ; than for to maintaine the commen
welthe by them, as I do? Do you not recken [quod he) the commen
welthe better thanfyve or sixe beggers f" To this I did answere that
I rekened it more to the honour of God and to the salvation of his
soule and also to the comforte of his poore bretheren that they
were coyned and given in almes, and as for the commenwelthe
dyd not hange of them, (where be they nowe ?) for as his grace
knewe, the commenwelthe was afore his grace, and must be when
his grace is gone, and the pillers and pollaxes came with him, and
should also go away with him. Notwithstanding yf the commen-
welth were in suche a condicion that it had nede of them, than
might his grace so longe use them, or aiiy other thinge in thcyr
stede, so long as the commenwelth neded them. Notwithstand-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. Ill
foreign regions, with which the king of this
realm had any occasion to intermeddle. All

ing I sayd, thus muche dyd I not say in my sermon agaynst them,
but all onely I dampned in my sermon the gorgeous pompe and
pride of all exterior ornamentes. Than he sayde, " Well — you
say very well." But as well as it was said I am sure that these
wordes made me an heretike, for if these wordes had not bene
therein, mine adversaries durst never have shewed their faces
against me. But now they knewe well that I could never be in
differently hearde. For if I had got the victorie than must all the
Bishops and my Lord Cardinal have laid downe all their gorgeous
ornamentes, for the which they had rather burne xx such heretikes
as I am, as all the worlde knoweth. But God is mighty, and of
me hath he shewed his power, for I dare say they never intended
tiling more in their lives, than they did to destroy me, and yet
God, of his infinite mercy, hath saved me, agaynst all their vio
lence : unto his Godly wisdome is the cause all onely knowne.
The Byshop of London that was then, called Tunstal, after my
departing out of prison, sayd unto a substancyal man, that I was
not ded (for I dare say his conscience did not recken me such an
heretike, that I wolde have killed myself, as the voyce wente, but
yet wolde he have done it gladly of his charyte) but I was, saide he,
in Amsterdam (where I had never been in my lyfe, as God knoweth,
nor yet in the Countrey this ten yeares) and certaine men dyd there
speake with me (said he) and he fained certaine wordes that they
shulde say to me, and I to them, and added thereunto that the
Lord Cardinal woulde have me againe or it shulde coste hym a
greate somme of money, howe moche I do not clerelye remember.
I have marvayle that my Lorde is not ashamed, thus shamefully
and thus lordly to lye, althoughe he might doo it by auctoritie.
And where my Lord Cardinal and he wold spend so moche money
to have me agayne, I have great marvayle of it. What can they
make of me ? (I am now here, what say you to me ?) I am a
symple poore wretche, and worthe no mans money in the worlde
(saving theirs) not the tenth peny that they will give for me, and to
burne me or to destroye me, cannot so greatly profyt them. For
when I am dead, the sunne, and the moone, the starres, and the ele
ment, water and fyre, ye and also stones shall defende this cause
againste them rather than the verity shall perish."

112 THE LIFE OF
ambassadors of foreign potentates were always
dispatched by his discretion, to whom they had
always access for their dispatch. His house
was also always resorted and furnished with
noblemen, gentlemen, and other persons, with
going and coming in and out, feasting and ban
queting all ambassadors diverse times, and other
strangers right nobly.
I And when it pleased the king's majesty, for
I his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house,
I as he did divers times in the year, at which time
there wanted no preparations, or goodly furni
ture, with viands of the finest sort that might be
provided for money or friendship. Such plea
sures were then devised for the king's comfort
and consolation, as might be invented, or by
man's wit imagined. The banquets were set
4, forth, with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous
/ a sort, and costly manner, that it was a heaven
I to behold. There wanted no dames, or damsels,
meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to gar
nish the place for the time, with other goodly
disports. Then was there all kind of music and
harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of
men and chUdren. I have seen the king sud
denly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen
of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds,
made of fine cloth of gold and fine crimson satin
paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 113
proportion of visnomy ; their hairs, and beards,
either of fine gold wire, or else of sUver, and
some being of black sUk ; having sixteen torch
bearers, besides their drums, and other persons
attending upon them, with visors, and clothed
aU in satin, of the same colours. And at his
coming, and before he came into the hall, ye
shaU understand, that he came by water to the
water gate, without any noise ; where, against
his coming, were laid charged many chambers ^,
and at his landing they were all shot off, which
made such a rumble in the air, that it was like
thunder. It made aU the noblemen, ladies, and
gentlewomen, to muse what it should mean
coming so suddenly, they sitting quietly at a
solemn banquet ; under this sort : First, ye shall
perceive that the tables were set in the chamber
of presence, banquet- wise covered, my Lord Car
dinal sitting' under the cloth of estate, and there
having his service aU alone ; and then was there
set a lady and a nobleman, or a gentleman and
gentiewoman, throughout all the tables in the
chamber on the one side, which were made and

s Chambers, short guns, or cannon, standing upon their breech
ing without carriages, chiefly used for festive occasions ; and having
their name most probably from being little more than chambers for.
powder. It was by the discharge of these chambers in the play of
Henry Vlllth. that the Globe Theatre was burnt in 1613. Shak
speare followed pretty closely the narrative of Cavendish. I

114 THE LIFE OF
.joined as it were but one table. AU which order
and device was done and devised by the Lord
Sands, Lord Chamberlain to the king ; and also
by Sir Henry Guilford, ComptroUer to the king.
Then immediately after this great shot of guns,
the cardinal desired the Lord Chamberlain, and
ComptroUer, to look what this sudden shot
should mean, as though he knew nothing of the
matter. They thereupon looking out of the
windows into Thames, returned again, and
showed him, that it seemed to them there should
be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his
bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince.
With that, quoth the cardinal, " I shaU desire
you, because ye can speak French, to take the
pains to go down into the haU to encounter and
to receive them, according to their estates, and
to conduct them into this chamber, where they
shaU see us, and aU these noble personages sitting
merrily at our banquet, desiring them to sit down
with us, and to take part of our fare and pastime.
Then [they] went incontinent down into the
hall, where they received them with twenty new
torches, and conveyed them up into the chamber,
with such a number of drums and fifes as I have
seldom seen together, at one time in any masque.
At their arrival into the chamber, two and two
together, they went directly before the cardinal
where he sat, saluting him very reverently ; to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 115
whom the Lord Chamberlain for them said : " Sir,
for as much as they be strangers, and can speak
no EngUsh, they have desired me to declare unto
your Grace thus : they, having understanding
of this your triumphant banquet, where was
assembled such a number of excellent fair dames,
could do no less, under the supportation of your
good grace, but to repair hither to view as well
their incomparable beauty, as for to accompany
them at mumchance^, and then after to dance
with them, and so to have of them acquaintance.
And, sir, they furthermore require of your Grace
licence to accomplish the cause of their repair."
To whom the cardinal answered, that he was
very weU contented they shovUd so do. Then
the maskers went first and saluted aU the dames
as they sat, and then returned to the most wor
thiest, and there opened a cup fuU of gold, with
crowns, and other pieces of coin, to whom they
set divers pieces to cast at. Thus in this man
ner perusing all the ladies and gentlewomen, and
to some they lost, and of some they won. And
thus done, they returned unto the cardinal, with
great reverence, pouring down all the crowns in
the cup, which was about two hundred crowns.
" At aU," quoth the cardinal, and so cast the

3 JfamcAoTice appears to have been a game played with dice, at
which silence was to be observed.
I 2

116 THE LIFE OF
dice, and won them all at a cast ; whereat was
great joy made. Then quoth the cardinal to my
Lord Chamberlain, " I pray you," quoth he,
" show them that it seemeth me that there should
be among them some noble man, whom I sup
pose to be much more worthy of honour to sit
and occupy this room and place than I ; to whom
I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender
my place according to my duty." Then spake
my Lord Chamberlain unto them in French,
declaring my Lord Cardinal's mind, and they
rounding ^ him again in the ear, my Lord Cham
berlain said to my Lord Cardinal, " Sir, they
confess," quoth he, •' that ahiong them there is
such a noble personage, whom, if your Grace
can appoint, him from the other, he is contented
to disclose himself, and to accept your place
most worthUy." With that the cardinal, taking
a good advisement among them, at the last,
quoth he, " Me seemeth the gentleman with the
black beard should be even he." And with that
he arose out of his chair, and offered the same
to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap
in his hand. The person to whom he offered
then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely
knight of a goodly personage, that much more
resembled the king's person in that mask, than

< Rounding, sometimes spelt rowning, i. e. whispering.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 117
any other. The king, hearing and perceiving
the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and
choice, could not forbear laughing ; but plucked
down his visor, and Master NeviUe's also, and
dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and
cheer, that aU noble estates there assembled,
seeing the king to be there amongst them, re
joiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons desired
his highness to take the place of estate, to whom
the king answered, that he would go first and
shift his apparel ; and so departed, and went
straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a
great fire made and prepared for him ; and there
new appareUed him with rich and princely gar
ments. And in the time of the king's absence,
the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up,
and the tables spread again with new and sweet
perfumed cloths ; every man sitting stUl until
the king and his maskers, came in among them
again, every man being newly apparelled. Then
the king took his seat under the cloth of estate,
commanding no man to remove, but sit stUl, as
they did before. Then in came a new banquet
before the king's majesty, and to aU the rest
through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were
served two hundred dishes or above, of w^ondrous
costly meats and devices, subtUly devised. Thus
passed they forth the whole night with banquet
ing, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the

118 THE LIFE OF
great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of
the nobUity there assembled.
AU this matter I have declared at large, be
cause ye shall understand what joy and delight
the cardinal had to see his prince and sovereign
lord in his house so nobly entertained and
pleased, which was always his only study, to
devise things to his comfort, not passing of the
charges or expenses. It delighted him so much,
to have the king's pleasant princely presence,
that no thing was to him more delectable than
to cheer his sovereign lord, to whom he owed so
much obedience and loyalty ; as reason required
no less, aU things weU considered.
'' Thus passed the cardinal his life and time,
from day to day, and year to year, in such great
wealth, joy, and triyjnpb,-jand_glory, having
always" on Tiis side the king's especial favour;^
uhtU Fortune, of whose favour no man is longer
assured than she is disposed, began to wax some
thing wroth with his prosperous estate, [and]
thought she would devise a mean to abate his
high port ; wherefore she procured Venus, the
insatiate goddess, to be her instrument. To work
her purpose, she brought the king in love with a
gentlewoman, that, after she perceived and felt
the king's good wiU towards her, and how diligent
he was both to please her, and to grant aU her
requests, she wrought the cardinal much dis-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 119
pleasure; as hereafter shaU be more at large
declared. This gentlewoman, the daughter of
Sir Thomas Boleyn, being at that time but only
a bachelor knight, the which after, for the love
of his daughter, was promoted to higher digni
ties. He bare at divers several times for the
most part aU the rooms of estimation in the
kuig's house; as ComptroUer, Treasurer, Vice
Chamberlain, and Lord Chamberlain. Then was
he made Viscount Rochford ; and at the last
created Earl of Wiltshire, and Knight of the
noble Order of the Garter ; and, for his more
increase of gain and honour, he was made Lord
Privy Seal, and most chiefest of the king's privy
councU. Continuing therein until his son and
daughter did incur the king's indignation and
displeasure. The king fantasied so much his
daughter Anne, that almost all things began to
grow out of frame and good order ^.
To teU you how the king's love began to take
place, and what followed thereof, I wUl even as
much as in me lieth, declare [unto] you. This

5 " The king gave good testymony of his love to this lady, cre
ating her in one day Marquesse of Pembroke (that I may use the
words of the patent) for the nobylity of her stocke, excellency of
her virtues and conditions, and other shewes of honesty and good
ness worthyly to bee commended in her). And giving her a
patent for a 1000 pounds yerely to maynteyne this honour with.
She was the first woman, I read, to have honor given to her and
her heyres male." Sir Roger Twysden's MS. note.

120 THE LIFE OF
gentlewoman, Mistress^AnneJBolpyn, being very
young ^ was sent into the realm of France, and
there made one of the French ' queen's women,
continuing there untU the French queen died.
And then was she sent for home again ; and
being again with her father, he made such means
that she was admitted to be one of Queen Ka
tharine's maids, among whom, for her exceUent
gesture and behaviour, [she] did excel all other ;
in so much, as the king began to kindle the
brand of amours ; which was not known to any
person, ne scantly to her own person.
In so much [as] my Lord Percy, the son and
heir of the Earl of Northumberland, then attended

6 " Not above seven yeares of age. Anno 1514." as appears from
a fragment of this life with notes by Sir Roger Twysden, of which
a few copies were printed in 1808, by Mr. Triphook, from whence
also the following note is copied.
' " It should seeme by some that she served three in France
successively ; Mary of England maryed to Lewis the twelfth, an.
1514, with whome she went out of England, but Lewis dying the
first of January following, and that Queene (being) to returne
home, sooner than either Sir Thomas BuUen or some other of her
frendes liked she should, she was preferred to Clauda, daughter
to Lewis XII. and wife to Francis I. then Queene (it is likely
upon the commendation of Mary the Dowager), who not long after
dying, an. 1524, not yet weary of France she went to live with
Marguerite, Dutchess of Alan^on and Berry, a Lady much com
mended for her favor towards good letters, but never enough for
the Protestant religion then in the infancy — from her, if I am not
deceived, she first learnt the grounds of the Protestant religion ; so
that England may seem to owe some part of her happyness derived
from that Lad v."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 121
upon the Lord Cardinal, and was also his servi
tor ; and when it chanced the Lord Cardinal at
any time to repair to the court, the Lord Percy
would then resort for his pastime unto the
queen's chamber, and there would fall in daUiance
among the queen's maidens, being at the last
more conversant with Mistress Anne Boleyn
than with any other ; so that there grew such a
secret love between them that, at length, they
were insured- together s, intending to marry.
The which thing came to the king's knowledge,
who was then much offended. Wherefore he
could hide no longer his secret affection, but
revealed his secret intendment unto my Lord
Cardinal* in that behalf; and consulted with him
to infringe the precontract between them : in
somuch, that after my Lord Cardinal was de
parted from the court, and returned home to his
place at Westminster, not forgetting the king's
request and counsel, being in his gpUery, called
there before him the said Lord Percy unto his
presence, and before us his servants of his
' This expression, unless the author himself were misinformed,
must not be extended to imply an absolute precontract. Lord
Herbert, in his Life of Henry VIII. p. 448, has published an original
letter from this nobleman, then Earl of Northumberland, written
in the year 1536, a short time before Q. Anne's suffering, in which
he denies any such contract, in the most solemn terms. This letter
will be found in the Appendix. W.
I have placed this letter in the Appendix (Letter VII.) for the
convenience of the reader.

122 THE LIFE OF
chamber, saying thus unto him. " I marvel not
a little," quoth he, " of thy peevish foUy, that
thou wouldest tangle and ensure thyself with a
foolish girl yonder in the court, I mean Anne
Boleyn. Dost thou not consider the estate that
God hath caUed thee unto in this world ? For
after the death of thy noble father, thou art
most like to inherit and possess one of the most
worthiest earldoms of this realm. Therefore it
had been most meet, and convenient for thee,
to have sued for the consent of thy father in
that behalf, and to have also made the king's
highness privy thereto ; requiring therein his
princely favour, submitting aU thy whole pro
ceeding in all such matters unto his highness,
who would not only accept thankfully your sub
mission, but would, I assure thee, provide so
for your purpose therein, that he would advance
you much more nobly, and have matched you
according to your estate and honour, whereby
ye might have grown so by your wisdom and
honourable behaviour into the king's high esti
mation, that it should have been much to your
increase of honour. But now behold what ye
have done through your wUfulness. Ye have
not only offended your natural father, but also
your most gracious sovereign lord, and matched
yourself with one, such as neither the king, ne
yet your father wiU be agreeable with the mat-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 123
ter. And hereof I put you out of doubt, that I
wiU send for your father, and at his coming, he
shall either break this unadvised contract, or
else disinherit thee for ever. The king's ma
jesty himself wiU complain to thy father on thee,
and require no less at his hand than I have
said; whose highness intended to have preferred
[Anne Boleyn] unto another person, with whom
the king hath traveUed already, and being
almost at a point with the same person, although
she knoweth it not, yet hath the king, most Uke
a politic and prudent prince, conveyed the mat
ter in such sort, that she, upon the king's motion,
wUl be (I doubt not) right glad and agreeable
to the same." " Sir," (quoth the Lord Percy, aU
weeping), " I knew nothing of the king's pleasure
therein, for whose displeasure I am very sorry.
I considered that I was of good years, and
thought myself sufficient to provide me of a
convenient wife, whereas my fancy served me
best, not doubting but that my lord my father
would have been right well persuaded. And
though she be a simple maid, and having but a
knight to her father, yet is she descended of
right noble parentage. As by her mother she
is nigh of the Norfolk blood : and of her father's
side lineaUy descended of the Earl of Ormond,
he being one of the earl's heirs general ^. Why
' Geffrey Bollen, a gentlemen of Norfolk, Mayor of London,

124 THE LIFE OF
should I then, sir, be any thing scrupulous to
match with her, whose estate of descent is
equivalent with mine when I shaU be in most
dignity ? Therefore I most humbly require your
grace of your especial favour herein ; arid also
to entreat the king's most royal majesty most
lowly on my behalf for his princely benevolence
in this matter, the which I cannot deny or for
sake." " Lo, sirs," quoth the cardinal, " ye may
see what conformity and wisdom is in this wUful
boy's head. I thought that when thou heardest
me declare the king's intended pleasure and
travaU herein, thou wouldest have relented and
whoUy submitted thyself, and all thy wUful and
unadvised fact, to the king's royal will and pru
dent pleasure, to be fuUy disposed and ordered
by his grace's disposition, as his highness should
seem good." " Sir, so I would," quoth the Lord
Percy, " but in this matter I have gone so far,
before many so worthy witnesses, that I know
not how to avoid my self nor to discharge my
conscience." " Why, thinkest thou," quoth the
cardinal, " that the king and I know not what we
1457, marryed one of the daughters and heyres of Thomas Lord
Hoo and Hastings, by whome he had William Bolleyn (knight of
the Bath at Richard 3ds coronation) who marryed the Earl of
Ormonds daughter (he though of Ireland, sate in the English par
liament above EngUsh Barons), by her he had Thomas Bollen,
wl\ome the Erie of Surrey after Duke of Norfolk chose for his
son-in-law ; of which marriage this Anne was born, 1507.
Note from Sir R. Twysden's MS. Frag.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 125
have to do in as weighty a matter as this ? Yes
(quoth he), I warrant thee. Howbeit I can see
in thee no submission to the purpose." " For
sooth, my Lord," quoth the Lord Percy, " if it
please your grace, I wUl submit myself wholly
unto the king's majesty and [your] grace in this
matter, my conscience being discharged of the
weighty burthen of my precontract." " Well
then," quoth the cardinal, " I wUl send for your
father out of the north parts, and he and we shall
take such order for the avoiding of this thy hasty
foUy as shaU be by the king thought most expe
dient. And in the mean season I charge thee,
and in the king's name command thee, that thou
presume not once to resort into her company,
as thou intendest to avoid the king's high in
dignation." And this said he rose up and went
into his chamber.
Then was the Earl of Northumberland sent
for in aU haste, in the king's name, who upon '
knowledge of the king's pleasure made quick
speed to the court. And at his first coming out
of the north he made his first repair unto my
Lord Cardinal, at whose mouth he was adver
tised of the cause of his hasty sending for ; being
in my Lord Cardinal's gaUery with him in secret
communication a long while. And after their
long talk my Lord Cardinal called for a cup of
wine, and drinking together they brake up, and

126 THE LIFE OF
SO departed the earl, upon whom we were com
manded to wait to convey him to his servants.
And in his going away, when he came to the
gaUery's end, he sat him down upon a form that
stood there for the waiters some time to take
their ease. And being there set caUed his son the
Lord Percy unto him, and said in our presence
thus in effect. " Son," quoth he, " thou hast
always been a proud, presumptuous, disdainful,
and a very unthrift waster, and even so hast thou
now declared thyself. Therefore what joy, what
comfort, what pleasure or solace should I con
ceive in thee, that thus without discretion and
advisement hast misused thyself, having no man
ner of regard to me thy natural father, ne in
especial unto thy sovereign lord, to whom all
honest and loyal subjects bear faithful and
humble obedience ; ne yet to the wealth of thine
own estate, but hast so unadvisedly ensured thy
self to her, for whom thou hast purchased thee
the king's displeasure, intolerable for any subject
to sustain ! But that his grace of his mere wis
dom doth consider the lightness of thy head, and
wUful qualities of thy person, his displeasure
and indignation were sufficient to cast me and
aU my posterity into utter subversion and disso
lution : but he being my especial and singular
good lord and favourable prince, and my Lord
Cardinal my good lord hath and doth clearly

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 127
excuse me in thy lewd fact, and doth rather
lament thy Ughtness than malign the same ; and
hath devised an order to be taken for thee ; to
whom both thou and I be more bound than we
be able weU to consider. I pray to God that
this may be to thee a sufficient monition and
warning to use thyself more wittier hereafter ;
for thus I assure thee, if thou dost not amend
thy prodigality, thou wUt be the last earl of our
house. For of thy natural inclination thou art
disposed to be wasteful prodigal, and to con
sume aU that thy progenitors have with great
travail gathered together and kept with honour.
But having the king's majesty my singular good
and gracious lord, I intend (God wiUing) so to
dispose my succession, that ye shall consume
thereof but a little. For I do not purpose,
I assure thee, to make thee mine heir ; for,
praises be to God, I have more choice of boys
who, I trust, wiU prove themselves much better,
and use them more like unto nobiUty, among'
whom I wUl choose and take the best and most
likeliest to succeed me. Now, masters and
good gentiemen," (quoth he unto us), " it may
be your chances hereafter, when I am dead, to
see the proof of these things that I have spoken
to my son prove as true as I have spoken them.
Yet in the mean season I desire you all to be
his friends, and to tell him his fault when he

128 THE LIFE OF
doth amiss, wherein ye shaU show yourselves to
be much his friends." And with that he took
his leave of us. And said to his son thus :
" Go your ways, and attend upon my lord's
grace your master, and see that you do your
duty." And so departed, and went his way
down through the haU into his barge.
Then after long debating and consultaition
upon the Lord Percy's assurance, it was de
vised that the same should be infringed and
dissolved, and that the Lord Percy should marry
with one of the Earl of Shrewsbury's daughters i ;
» This was the Lady Mary Talbot, daughter to George Earl of
Shrewsbury, by whom he had no issue. " Though little ceremony,
and probably as little time, was used in patching up these i^up-
tials. As might be expected, they were most unhappy. So we
are told, on the authority of the earl's own letters, in the very
laboured account of the Percy family given in Collins' Peerage,
ed. 1779, perhaps the best piece of family history in our language.
" Henry, the unthrifty Earl of Northumberland, died at Hackney
in the prime of life, about ten or twelve years after he had con
sented to this marriage. Of this term but a very small portion
was spent in company of his lady. He lived long enough, how
ever, not oflly to witness the destruction of his own happiness, but
the sad termination of Anne Boleyn's life. In the admirable
account of the Percy family, referred to above, no mention is made
of the lady who, on these terms, consented to become Countess of
Northumberland, in her long widowhood. She sequestered her
self from the world at Wormhill, on the banks of the Derbyshire
Wye, amidst some of the sublimest scenery of the Peak. Worm
hill is about eighteen miles from Sheffield, where Lady Northum
berland's father, brother, and nephew, successively Earls of
Shrewsbury, spent the greater part of their lives."
Who wrote Cavendish's Life of Wolsey ? p. 30.
The reader will be pleased to refer to the note as it now stands

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 129
(as he did after), ; by means whereof the former
contract was clearly undone. Wherewith Mis
tress Anne Boleyn was greatly offended, saying,
that if it lay ever in her power, she would work
the cardinal as much displeasure ; as she did in
deed after. And yet was he nothing to blame,
for he practised nothing in that matter, but it was
the king's only device. And even as my Lord
Percy was commanded to avoid her company,
even so was she commanded to avoid the court,
and sent home again to her father for a sea
son ; whereat she smoked^ : for all this while
she knew nothing of the king's intended pur
pose. But ye may see when fortune beginneth to
lower, how she can compass a matter to work
displeasure by a far fetch. For now, mark, good
reader, the grudge, how it began, that in process
[of time] burst out to the utter undoing of the
cardinal. O Lord, what a God art thou ! that
workest thy secrets so wonderfiiUy, which be
not perceived until they be brought to pass
and finished. Mark this history foUowing, good
reader, and note every circumstance, and thou

in Mr. Hunter's Essay, prefixed to the present edition. He thinks
that Wreshill, and not Wormhill, must be meant, as there is no other
evidence to show that Lady Percy had a, house at Wormhill.
8 i. e. fumed. This metaphorical use of the word has not occurred
to me elsewhere. K

130 THE LIFE OF
shalt espy at thine eye the wonderful • work of
God, against such persons as forgetteth God
and his great benefits ! Mark, I say, mark them
weU! After that aU these troublesome matters of
my Lord Percy's were brought to a good stay,
and aU things finished that were before devised.
Mistress Anne Boleyn was revoked unto the
courts, where she flourished after in great esti
mation and favour ; haviag always a privy in
dignation unto the cardinal, for breaking off the
precontract made between my Lord Percy and
her, supposing that it had been his own device
and wUl, and none other, not yet being privy to
the king's secret mind, although that he had a
great affection unto her. Howbeit, after she
knew the king's pleasure, and the great love
that he bare her in the bottom of his stomach,
then she began to look very hault and stout,
having aU manner of jewels, or rich apparel,
that might be gotten with money. It was there-

3 The charms of Anne had also attracted Sir Thomas Wyatt,
and some of his poems evidently allude to his passion ; he was
afterwards closely questioned as to the nature of his intimacy with
her. A very curious narrative of some particulars relating to this
attachment, from the pen of a descendant of the poet, has for
tunately been preserved among the MS. collections of Lewis the
antiquary. A few copies of this memoir were printed in 1817, btit ¦
as it has still almost the rarity of a manuscript, I shall enrich my
Appendix by reprinting it as a most curious and valuable docu
ment relating to this eventful period of our history.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 131
fore judged by-and-bye through aU the court of
every man, that she being in such favour, might
work masteries with the king, and obtain any
suit of him for her friend.
And all this whUe, she being in this estima
tion in aU places, it is no doubt but good Queen
Katharine, having this gentiewoman daily attend
ing upon her, both heard by report, and perceived
before her eyes, the matter how it framed against
her (good lady), although she showed rie to
Mistress Anne, ne unto the kiag, any spark or
kind of grudge or displeasure ; but took and
accepted aU things in good part, and with wis
dom and great patience dissimuled the same,
haAong Mistress Anne in more estimation for
the king's sake than she had before, declaring
herself thereby to be a perfect Griselda, as her
patient acts shaU hereafter more evideritly to all
men be declared*.

* In the very interesting memoir of Anne Boleyn, by George
Wyat, which the reader wiU find in the Appendix, the queen's
prudent conduct is mentioned, and the following anecdote related :
' These things being well perceived of the queen, which she knew
well to frame and work her advantage of, and therefore the dftener
had her (i. e. Anne Boleyn) at cards with her, the rather also that
the king might have the less her company, and the lady the more
excuse to be from him, also she esteem herself the kindlier used,
and yet withal the more to give the king occasion to see the nail
upon her finger. And in this entertainment, of time they had a
certain game, that I cannot naih^, then frequented, wherein deal
ing, the king and queen meetirig they stopt ; stnd the young lady's
K 2

132 THE LIFE OF
The king waxed so far in amours with this
gentlewoman that he knew not how much he
might advance her. This perceiving, the great
lords of the council, bearing a secret grudge
against the cardinal, because that they could hot
rule in the scene well for him as they would,
who kept them low, and ruled them as weU as.
other mean subjects, whereat they caught an
occasion to invent a mean to bring him out of
the king's high favour, and them into more
authority of rule and civil governance. After
long and secret consultation amongst them
selves, how to bring their malice to effect against
the cardinal, they knew right well that it was
very difficUe for them to do any thing directly
of themselves. Wherefore, they perceiving the
great affection that the king bare lovingly unto
Mistress Atme Boleyn, fantasying in their heads
that she should be for them a sufficient and an
apt instrument to bring their malicious purpose
to pass, with her they often consulted in this
matter. And she having both a very good wit,
and also an inward desire to be revenged of the
cardinal 5, was as agreeable to their requests as

hap was, much to stop at a king. Which the queen noting, said
to her, playfully. My Lady Anne, you have good hap to stop at a
king, but you are like others, you will have all or none.'
5 Yet nothing can be more strong than her expressions of gra
titude and affection to the cardinal at this period when his assist-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 133
. they were themselves. Wherefore there was no
more to do but only to imagine some presented
circumstances to induce their malicious accusa
tions. Insomuch that there was imagined and
invented among them diverse imaginations and
subtle devices, how this matter should be brought
about. The enterprise thereof was so dangerous,
that though they would fain have often at
tempted the matter with the king, yet they durst

ance was of importance to her views. Two letters of hers to the
cardinal have been published by Burnet, I. 55, [see our Appendix,
Letter XL] in which she says : " all the days of my life I am most
bound of all creatures next the king's grace to love and serve your
grace ; of the which I beseech you never to doubt that ever I shall
vary from this thought as long as any breath is in my body. And
as touching your grace's trouble with the sweat, I thank our Lord
that them that I desired and prayed for are scaped, and that is the
king and you. And as for the coming of the Legate, I desire that
much, and if it be God's pleasure, I pray him to send this matter
shortly to a good end, and then 1 trust, my lord, to recompense part
of your great pains." In another letter she says : '' I do know the
great pains and troubles that you have taken for me,' both day and
night, is never like to be recompensed on my part, but al only in
loving you next the king's grace above all creatures living." In a
third letter, published by Fiddes, " I am bound in the mean time
to owe you my service : and then look what thing in the 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 assured to have it, and that is
my hearty love unfeignedly during my life." It should seem,
therefore, unless we suppose her to have been insincere in her ex
pression of gratitude, that her animosity did not proceed from any
displeasure at the rupture of the affair with Lord Percy ; but from
subsequent causes. She was probably worked upon by the car
dinal's enemies in the court.

134 THE LIFE OF
not; for they knew the great loving affection
and especial favour that the king bare to the
cardinal, and also they feared the wonderous
wit of the cardinal. For this they understood
very weU, that if their matter that they should
propone against him were not grounded upon a
just and an urgent cause, the king's favour
being such towards him, and his wit such, that
he would with policy vanquish all their purpose
and travail, and then lye in a- wait to work them
an utter destruction and subversion. Wherefore
they were compeUed, aU things considered, to
forbear their enterprise until they might espy a
more convenient time and occasion.
And yet the cardinal, espying the great zeal
that the king had conceived in this gentlewoman,
ordered himself to please as weU the king as her,
dissimuling the matter that lay hid in his breast,
and prepared great banquets and solemn feasts
to entertain them both at his own house. And
thus the world began to grow into wonderful in
ventions, not heard of before in this realm. The
love between the king and this gorgeous lady
grew to such a perfection, that divers imagina
tions were imagined, whereof I leave to speak
until I come to the place where I may have more
occasion. Then began a certain grudge to arise between
the French king and the Duke of Bourbon, in so

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 135
much as the Duke, being vassal to the house of
France, was constrained for the safeguard of his
person to flee his dominions, and to forsake his
territory and country, doubting the king's great
malice and indignation. The cardinal, having
thereof inteUigence, compassed in his head, that
if the king our sovereign lord (having an occa
sion of wars with the realm of France), might
retain the duke to be his general in the wars
there : in as much as the duke was fled unto the
emperor, to invite him also, to stir wars against
the French king. The cardinal having all this
imagination in his head thought it good to move
the kiag in this matter. And after the king
was once advertised hereof, and conceived the
cardinal's imagination and invention, he dreamed
of this matter more and more, untU at the last it
came in question among the councU in consulta
tion, so that it was there finally concluded that
an embassy should be sent to the emperor about
this matter ; with whom it was concluded that
the king and the emperor should join in these
wars against the" French king, and that the Duke
of Bourbon should be our sovereign lord's cham
pion and general in the field ; who had appointed
him a great number of good soldiers over and
besides the emperor's army, which was not small,
and led by one of his own noblemen ; and also
that the king should pay the duke his wages, and

136 ' THE LIFE OF
his retinue monthly. In so much as Sir John
Russel, (who was after Earl of Bedford), lay
continually beyond the seas in a secret place,
assigned both for to receive the king's money
and to pay the same monthly to the duke. So
that the duke began fierce war with the French
king in his own territory and dukedom, which
the French king had confiscated and seized into
his hands ; yet not known to the duke's enemies
that he had any aid of the king our sovereign
lord. And thus he wrought the French king
much trouble and displeasure; in so much as
the French king was compeUed of fine force to
put harness on his back, and to prepare a puissant
army royal, and in his own person to advance to
defend and resist the duke's power and malice.
The duke having understanding of the king's
advancing was compeUed of force to take Pavia,
a strong town in Italy, with his host, for their
security ; where as the king besieged him, and
encamped him wondrous strongly, intending to
enclose the Duke within this town, that he
should not issue. Yet notwithstanding the duke
would and did many -times issue and skirmish
with the king's army.
Now let us leave the king in his camp before
Pavia, and return- again to the Lord Cardinal,
who seemed to be. more French than Imperial.
But how it came to pass I cannot declare [unto]

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 137
you : but the [French] king lying in his camp,
sent secretiy into England a privy person, a very
witty man, to entreat of a peace between him and
the king our sovereign lord, whose name was
John Joachin^ ; he was kept as secret as might

^ The name of this person was Giovanni Joacchino Passano, a
Genoese; he was afterwards called Seigneur de Vaux. The emperor,
it appears, was informed of his being in England, and for what
purpose. The cardinal stated that Joacchino came over as a mer
chant, and that as soon as he discovered himself to be sent by the
Lady Regent of France, he had made de Praet (the emperor's am
bassador) privy thereto, and likewise of the answer given to her
proposals. The air of mystery which attached to this mission na
turally created suspicion, and after a few months, De Praet, in his
letters to the emperor, and to Margaret, the governess of the
Netherlands, expressed his apprehension that all was not right,
and the reasons for his surmises. His letters were intercepted by
the cardinal, and read before the council. Charles and Margaret
complained of this insult, and the cardinal explained as well as he
could. At the same time protesting against the misrepresentation
of De Praet, and assuring them that nothing could be further from
his wish than that any disunion should arise between the king his
master and the emperor ; and notwithstanding the suspicious aspect
of this transaction, his dispatches both immediately before and
after this fracas strongly corroborate his assertions. [See additional
note at the end of the Life.] Wolsey suspected that the Pope was
inclined toward the cause of Francis, and reminded him, through
the Bishop of Bath, of his obligations to Henry and Charles. The
Pope had already taken the alarm, and had made terms vrith the
French kmg, but had industriously concealed it from Wolsey, and
at length urged in his excuse that heliad no alternative. Joacchino
was again in England upon a different mission, and was an eye
witness of the melancholy condition of the cardinal when his for
tunes were reversed. He sympathised with him, and interested
himself for him with Francis and the Queen Dowager, as ap
pears by his letters published in Legrand, Histoire du Divorce de
Henri VIIL

138 THE LIFE OF
be, that no man had inteUigence of his repair ;
for he was no Frenchman, but an Italian born, a
man before of no estimation in France, or known
to be in favour with his master, but to be a
merchant, and for his subtle wit elected to
entreat of such affairs as the king had com
manded him by embassy. This Joachin after
his arrival here in England was secretly con
veyed unto the king's manor of Richmond, and
there remained until Whitsuntide, at which time
the cardinal resorted thither, and kept there the
said feast very solemnly. In which season my lord
caused this Joachin divers times to dine with him,
whose talk and behaviour seemed to be. witty, so
ber, and wondrous discreet. [He] continued in
England long after, untU he had (as it seemed)
brought his purposed embassy to pass which he
had in commission. For after this there was
sent out immediately a restraint unto Sir John
Russell, into those parts where he made his abid
ing beyond the seas, that he should retain and
keep back that month's wages stiU in his hands,
which should have been paid unto the Duke of
Bourbon, untU the kipg's pleasure were to him
further known ; for want of which money at the
day appointed of payment, the duke and his
retinue were greatly dismayed and sore disapr
pointed ; and when they saw that their money
was not brought unto them as it was wont to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 139
be. And being in so dangerous a case for want
of victuals, which were wondrous scant and
dear, there were many imaginations what should
be the cause of the let thereof. Some said this,
and some said they wist never what ; so that they
mistrusted no thing less than the very cause
thereof. In so much at the last, what for want
of victual and other necessaries which could
not be gotten within the town, the captains and
soldiers began to grudge and mutter ;, and at the
last, for lack of victuals, were like aU to perish.
They being in this extremity came before the
Duke of Bourbon their captain, and said, " Sir, we
must be of very force and necessity compelled
to yield us in to the danger of our enemies ;
and better it were for us so to do than here to
starve like dogs." When the duke heard the
lamentations, and understood the extremities
that they were brought unto for lack of money,
he said again unto them, " Sirs," quoth he, " ye
are both vaHant men and of noble courage, who
have served here under me right worthily ; and
for your necessity, whereof I am participant, I
do not a little lament. (Howbeit) I shall desire
you, as ye are noble in hearts and courage, so to
take patience for a day or twain : and if suc
cour come not then from the King of England,
as I doubt nothing that he wiU deceive us, I wiU
well agree that we shaU all put ourselves and all

140 THE LIFE OF
our lives unto the mercy of our enemies ;" where
with they were all agreeable. And expecting
the coming of the king's money the space
of three days^ (the which days passed), the
duke seeing no remedy called his noble men,
and captains, and soldiers before him, and all
weeping said, " O ye noble captains and valiant
men, my gentle companions, I see no remedy in
this necessity but either we must yield us unto
bur enemies, or else famish. And to yield the
town and ourselves, I know not the mercy of
our enemies. As for my part I pass not of their
cruelties, for I know very weU I shall suffer
most cruel death if I come once into their hands.
It is not for myself therefore that I do lament,
but it is for your sakes ; it is for your lives ; it
is also for the safeguard of your persons. For
so that ye might escape the danger of your ene
mies' hands, I would most gladly suffer death.
Therefore, good companions and noble soldiers,
I shall require you aU, considering the dan
gerous misery and calamity that we stand in at
this present, to sell our lives most dearly rather
than to be murdered like beasts. If ye wUl fol
low my counsel we wiU take upon us this night
to give our enemies an assault in their camp, and
by that means we may either escape, or else give
them an overthrow. And thus it were better to
die in the field like men, than to live in captivity

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 141
and misery as prisoners." To the which they all
agreed. " Then," quoth the duke, " Ye perceive
that our enemy hath encamped us with a strong
camp, and that there is no way to enter but
one, which is so planted with great ordnance,
and force of men, that it is not possible to enter
that way to fight with our enemies without great
danger. And also, ye see that now of late they
have had smaU doubt of us, insomuch as they
have kept but slender watch. Therefore my
policy and advice shall be this : That about the
dead time of the night, when our enemies be
most quiet at rest, there shaU issue from us a
number of the most deliverest soldiers to assault
their camp ; who shaU give the assault right
secretly, even directly agairist the entry of the
camp, which is almost invincible. Your fierce
and sharp assault shaU be to them in the camp
so doubtful, that they shaU be compelled to
turn the strength of their entry that lyeth over
against your assault, to beat you from the
assault. Then wiU I issue out at the postern,
and come to the place of their strength newly
turned, and there, or they be ware, wiU I enter
and fight with them at the same place where
their guns arid strength lay before, and so come
to the rescue of you of the assault, and winning
their ordnance which they have turned, beat
them with their own pieces. And then we join-

142 THE LIFE OF
ing together in the field, I trust we shall have
a fair hand of therti. This device pleased them
wondrous well. Then prepared they all that
day for the purposed device^ and kept them
secret and close, without any noise or shot of
piece within the town, which gave their enemies
the less fear of any trouble that night, but evefry
man went to their rest within their tents and
lodgings quietly, nothing mistrusting that after
ensued. Then when aU the king's host was at rest,
the assailants issued out of the town without any
noise, according to the former appointment, and
gave a fierce and cruel assault at the place
appointed ; that they within the camp had as
much to do to defend it as was possible : and even
as the duke had before declared to his soldiers,
they within were compeUed to turn their shot
that lay at the entry against the assailants.
With that issued the duke, and with him about
fifteen or sixteen thousand men or more, and
secretly in the night, his enemies being not privy
of his coming until he was entered the field.
And at his first entry he was master of aU the
ordnance that lay there, and slew the gunners ;
and charged the said pieces and bent them
against his enemies, [of] whom he slew won-
drously a great number. He cut down tents and
paViUons, and murdered them within them, or

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 143
they wist of [his] coming, suspecting nothing
less than the duke's entry ; so that he won the
field or ever the king could arise to the rescue :
who was taken in his lodging or ever he was
armed. And when the duke had obtained the
field, and the French kmg taken prisoner, his
men slain, and his tents robbed aiid spoUed,
which were wondrous rich. And in the spoU,
searching of the king's treasure in his coffers
there was found among them the league newly
concluded between the King of England and the
French king, under the great seal of England ;
which once by [the duke] perceived, he began
to smell the impediment of his money which
should have come to him from the king. Having
upon due search of this matter further inteUi
gence that aU this matter and his utter undoing
was concluded and devised by the Cardinal of
England, the duke conceived such an indigna
tion hereupon against the cardinal, that after he
had established aU things there in good order and
security, he went incontinent unto Rome, intend
ing there to sack the town, and to have taken the
pope prisoner : where, at his first assault of the
walls, he was the first man that was there slain.
Yet, notwithstanding, his captains continued
there the assault, and in conclusion won the
town, and the pope fled unto Castle AngeU, where
he continued long afrer in great calamitv.

144 THE LIFE OF
I have written thus this history at large be
cause it was thought that the cardinal gave the
chief occasion of all this mischief ''. Ye may per
ceive what thing soever a man purposeth, be he
prince or prelate, yet notwithstanding God dis-
poseth aU things at his wUl and pleasure.
Wherefore it is great foUy for any wise man to
take any weighty enterprise of himself, trusting
altogether to his own wit, not caUing for grace
to assist him in aU his proceedings.
I, have known and seen in my days that

' Dr. Fiddes has justly observed, that Cavendish, in his account
of these transactions, asserted some things not only without suf
ficient authority, but contrary to the evidence of documents which
he has adduced. By these it appears, that if there was any delay
in the supplies promised on the part of England it was purely
accidental; and that the remissness of the emperor to furnish his
quota was the principal cause of the extremity to which the Duke
of Bourbon's army was reduced. Cavendish is also wrong in his
relation of the siege of Pavia and its consequences. The fact is,
that the Duke of Bourbon did not command in the town, but
marched at the head of the imperial army to relieve it ; and the
garrison did not sally out until the two armies were engaged.
The demonstrations of joy with which the victory at Pavia was
received in London is also an argument for the sincerity of Henry
and the cardinal at this time. The story of the treaty between
Henry and Francis, said to have been found in the tent of the
latter after the victory, is also a mere fiction. In the spirit of a
true son of the ApostoUc Church, Cavendish deprecates every
thing which might tend to bring the Pope into jeopardy ; and he
cannot help bearing hard-even upon the cardinal, because he was
thought indirectly the cause ' of all this mischief What is here
said receives confirmation from some interesting letters of the car
dinal in the Appendix to Gait's Life of Wolsey, No. IV. V. VI.
p. cxxxiv, &c. 4to edition, Lond. 1812.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 145
princes and great men [who] would either as
semble at any parliament, or in any other great
business, first would most reverently call to
God for his gracious assistance therein. And
now I see the contrary. Wherefore me seems
that they trust more in their own wisdoms and
imaginations than they do to God's help and
disposition ; and therefore often they speed
thereafter, and their matters take no success.
Therefore not only in this history, but in divers
others, ye may perceive right evident examples.
And yet I see no man almost in authority or
high estate regard or have any respect to the
same ; the greater is the pity, and the more to
be lamented. Now wUl I desist from this matter
and proceed to other.
Upon the taking of the French king, many
consultations and divers opinions were then in
argument among the council here in England.
Whereof some held opinion that if the king
would invade the realm of France in proper
person, with a puissant army royal, he might
easUy conquer the same ; considering that the
French king, and the most part of the noble
peers of France, were then prisoners with the
emperor. Some again said how that were no
honour for the king our sovereign lord, (the
king being in captivity). But some said that
the French king ought by the law of arms to
L

146 THE LIFE OF
be the king's prisoner, forasmuch as he was
taken by the king's champion and general cap^
tain, the Duke of Bourbon, and not by the
emperor. So that some moved the king to
take war thereupon with the emperor, unless he
would deliver the French king out of his hands
and possession ; with divers many other ima
ginations and inventions, even as men's fanta--
sies served them, too long here to be rehearsed :
the which I leave to the writers of chronicles.
Thus continuing long in debating upon the
matter, and every man in the court had their
talk, as wUl without wit led their fantasies ; at
the last it was devised by means of divers em
bassies sent into England out of the realm of
France, desiring the king our sovereign lord to
take order with the emperor for the French
king's deliverance, as his royal wisdom should
seem good, wherein the cardinal bare the stroke ;
so that after long deliberation and advice taken
in this matter, it was thought good by the car
dinal that the emperor should redeliver out
of his ward the French king, upon sufficient
pledges. And that the king's two sons, that is
to say, the Dolphin and the Duke of Orleans
should be delivered in hostage for the king
their father; which was in conclusion brought
to pass.
After the king's deliverance out of the em-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 147
peror's bondage, and his two sons received in
hostage to the emperor's use, and the king our
sovereign lord's security for the recompense of
all such demands and restitutions as should be
demanded of the French king, the cardinal^
lamenting the French king's calamity, and the
pope's great adversity, who yet remained in
castie AngeU, either as a prisoner, or else for
his defence and safeguard (I cannot teU whe
ther), travaUed all that he coidd^ with the king
and his councU to take order as weU for the
delivery of the one as for the quietness of the
other. At last, as ye have heard here before,
how divers of the great estates and lords of
the councU lay in a-wait with my Lady Anne
Boleyn, to espy a convenient time and occa
sion to take the cardinal in a brake ^ ; [they]

8 These intrigues, in which the cardinal bore so large a part,
did not redound to the glory of his country. Our merry neigh
bours even then had begun to make our diplomatic inferiority the
subject of their sport and ridicule. William Tindall, in his Prac
tice of popish Prelates, referring to these events, tells us, " The
Frenchmen of late dayes made a play or a disguising at Paris, in
which the emperour daunsed with the pope and the French king,
.and weried them, the king of England sitting on a hye ben,ch, and
looking on. And when it was asked, why he daunsed not, it was
answered, that he sate there, bi^t to pay the minstrels their wages
pnely: as who should- say, wee paid for all mens dauncing." Tiw-
dalfs Works, p. 375. A. D. 1572. W.
9 A brake here seems to signify a snare or trap. The word has
much puzzled the commentators on Shakspeare (See Measure for
Measure, Act II. Sc. 1). One of its antient significations was a
l2

148 THE LIFE OF
thoiight then, now is the time cohie that we
have expected, supposing it best to cause him
f to take upon him the king's commission, and to
I travel beyond the seas in this matter, saying, to
encourage him thereto, that it were more meet
for his high discretion, wit, and authority, to
compass and bring to pass a perfect peace
among these great and most mighty princes of
the world than any other within this realm or
elsewhere. Their intent and purpose was only
but to get him out of the king's daily presence,
and to convey him out of the realm, that they
might have convenient leisure and opportunity to
adventure their long desired enterprise, and by
the aid of their chief mistress, my Lady Anne,
to deprave him so unto the king in his absence,
that he should be rather in his high displeasure
than in his accustomed favour, or at the least
to be in less estimation with his majesty.
WeU! what wUl you have more? This matter
was so handled that the cardinal was com
manded to prepare himself to this journey ; the

sharp bit to break horses with. A farrier's brake was a machine to
confine or trammel the legs of unruly horses. An antient instru
ment of torture was also called a brake; and a thorny brake meant
an intricate thicket of thorns. Shakerly Marmion, in his comedy
of ' Holland's Leaguer', evidently uses the word in the same sense
with Cavendish :
"  Her I'll make
A stale to catch this courtier in a brake."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 149
which he was fain to take upon him ; but whe
ther it was with his good wUl or no, I am not
weU able to teU you. But this I know, that
he made a short abode after the determined
resolution thereof, but caused all things to
- be prepared onward toward his journey. And
every one of his servants were appointed that
should attend upon him in the same.
When all things were fully concluded, and
for this noble embassy provided and furnished,
then was no lett, but advance forwards in the
name of God. My Lord Cardinal had with him
such of the lords and bishops and other worthy
persons as were not privy of the conspiracy.
Then marched he forward out of his own house
a,t Westminster, passing through all London ^
over London Bridge, having before him of gen
tiemen a great number, three in a rank, in black
velvet livery coats, and the most part of them
with great chains of gold about their necks.
And aU his yeomen, with noblemen's and gen
tlemen's servants following him in French tawny
livery coats ; having embroidered upon the backs
and breasts of the said coats these letters : T.

' The 3d Day of July (1526), the Cardinal of Yorke passed
„¦; through the City of London, with many lords and gentlemen, to
the number of twelve hundred horse  The 1 1th day of May he
took shipping at Dover, and landed at Calais the same day.
Grafton, p. 1150.

150 THE LIFE OF
and C, under the cardinal's hat. His sumpter
mules, which were twenty in number and more,
with his carts and other carriages of his train,
were passed on before, conducted and guarded
with a great number of bows and spears. He
rode like a cardinal, very sumptuously, on a
mule trapped with crimson velvet upon velvet,
and his stirrups of copper, and gilt; and his
spare mule foUowing him with like apparel.
And before him he had his two great crosses
of sUver, two great pillars of silver, the great
seal of England, his cardinal's ha,t, and a gen
tleman that carried his valaunce, otherwise
caUed a cloakbag ; which was made altogether
of fine scarlet cloth, embroidered over and over
with cloth of gold very richly, having in it a
cloak of fine scarlet. Thus passed he through
London, and all the way of his journey, having
his harbingers passing before to provide lodging
for his train.
The first journey he made to Dartford in
Kent, unto Sir Richard WUtshire's house,
which is two mUes beyond Dartford ; where all
his train were lodged that night, and in the
country thereabouts. The next day he rode to
Rochester, and lodged in the bishop's palace
there ; and the rest of his train in the city, and
in Stroud on this side the bridge. The third
day he rode from thence to Feversham, and there

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 151
was lodged in the abbey, and his train in the
town, and some in the country thereabouts.
The fourth day he rode to Canterbury, where
he was encountered With the worshipfuUest of
the town and country, and lodged in the abbey
of Christchurch, in the prior's lodging. And
all his train in the city, where he continued
three or four days ; in which time there was the
great jubUee, and a fair in honour of the feast of
St. Thomas their patron. In which day of the
said feast, within the abbey there was made a
solemn procession ; and my Lord Cardinal went
presently in the same, appareUed in his legan-
tine ornaments, with his Cardinal's hat on his
head ; who commanded the monks and aU their
quire to sing the litany after this sort, Sancta
Maria ora pro papa nostro Clemente ; and so
perused the litany through, my Lord Cardinal
kneeling at the quire door, at a form covered
with carpets and cushions. The monks and all
the quire standing all that while in the midst of
the body of the church. At which time I saw
the Lord Cardinal weep very tenderly ; which
was, as we supposed, for heaviness that the
pope was at that present in such calamity and
great danger of the Lance Knights ^.

* Lanzen-Knechts, the name {)y which these bands of German
mercenaries were then designated.

1.52 THE LIFE OF
The next day I was sent with letters from
my Lord Cardinal unto Calais, by empost, inso
much as I was that same nightmt Calais. And
at my landing I found standing upon the pier,
without [the] Lantern Gate, all the council of
the town, to whom I delivered and dispatched
my message and letters or ever I entered the
town ; where I lay two days or my lord came
thither ; who arrived in .the haven the second
day after my coming, about eight of the clock
in the morning : where he was received in pro-"
cession with aU the worshipfuUest persons of
the town in most solemn wise. And in the
Lantern Gate was set for him a form, with
carpets and cushions, whereat he kneeled and
made his prayers before his entry any ftirther
in the town ; and there he was censed with two
great censers of silver, and sprinkled with holy
water. That done he arose up and passed on,
with all that assembly before him, singing, unto
St. Mary's church, where he standing at the
high altar, turning himself to the people, gave
them his benediction and clean remission. And
then they conducted him from thence unto a
house caUed the Checker, where he lay and
kept his house as long as he abode in the town ;
going immediately to his naked bed, because he
was somewhat troubled with sickness in his
passage upon the seas.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 153
That night, unto this place of the Checker,
resorted to him Mons. du Biez, captain of
Boulogne, with a number of gallant gentiemen,
who dined with him ; and after some consulta
tion with the cardinal, he with the rest of the
gentiemen departed again to Boulogne. Thus
the cardinal was daUy visited with one or other
of the French nobiUty.
Then when aU his train and his carriages were
landed at Calais, and every thing prepared in a
readiness for his journey, he caUed before him
all his noblemen and gentlemen into his privy
chamber ; where they being assembled, [he]
said unto them in this wise in effect : " I have
caUed you hither to this intent, to declare unto
you, that I considering the dUigence that ye
minister unto me, and the good woU that I bear
you again for the same, intending to remember
your dUigent service hereafter, in place where
ye shaU receive condign thanks and rewards.
And also I would show you further what au
thority I have received directly from the king's
highness ; and to instruct you somewhat of the
nature of the French men ; and then to inform
you what reverence ye shall use unto me for
the high honour of the king's majesty, and also
how ye shaU entertain the French men, when
soever ye shall meet at any time. First, ye
shaU understand that the king's majesty, upon

154 THE LIFE OF
certain weighty considerations, hath for the
more advancement of his royal dignity, as
signed me in this journey to be his lieutenant-
general ; and what reverence belongeth to the
same I wiU teU you. That for my part I must,
by virtue, of my commission of lieutenantship,
assume and take upon me, in aU honours and
degrees, to have aU such service and reve
rence as to his highness' presence is meet and
due : and nothing thereof to be neglected or
omitted by me that to his royal estate is ap
purtenant. And for my part ye shall see me
that I wiU not omit one jot thereof. Therefore,
because ye shaU not be ignorant in that behalf,
is one of the special causes of this your assem
bly, wiUing and commanding you as ye entend
my favour not to forget the same in time and
place, but every of you do observe this informa
tion and instruction as ye wUl at my ijeturn
avoid the king's indignation, but to obtain his
highness' thanks, the which I wiU further for you
as ye shaU deserve.
" Now to the point of the Frenchmen's nature,
ye shaU understand that their disposition is
such, that they wUl be at the first meeting as
famUiar with you as they had been acquainted
with you long before, and commune with you
in the French tongue as though ye understood
every word they spake : therefore in like man-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 155
ner, be ye as familiar with them again as they
be with you. If they speak to you in the
French tongue, speak you to them in the English
tongue ; for if you understand not them, they
shall no more understand you." And my lord
speaking merrUy to one of the gentlemen there,
being a Welshman, " Rice," quoth he, " speak
thou Welsh to him, and I am weU assured that
thy Welsh shaU be more diffuse ^ to him than his
French shaU be to thee." And then quoth he
again to us aU, " let all your entertainment and
behaviour be according to all gentleness and
humanity, that it may be reported, after your
departure from thence, that ye be gentiemen of
right good behaviour, and of riiuch gentleness,
and that ye be men that know your duty to your
sovereign lord, and to your master, aUowing

' Cavendish uses this word again in his poems :
" Wherin was found a certyn defuse clause
Wrested by craft to a male intente." p. 139.
See Fox's Acts, &c. p. 1769:
" Cook. Then answere me. What sayest thou to the blessed
sacrament of the altar ? Tell me :
" Jackson. 1 answered ; it is a diffuse question, to aske me at the
first dash, you promising to deliver me.'' See also p. 1574. "Dif-
fuie and difficult."
It appe.-vrs to have been used in the sense of obscure, but difficult
is the reading of Grove's edition. I find diffused explamei by Cot-
grave " diffus, espars, obscure." And in a Latin Greek and
English Lexicon by R. Hutton, printed at London by H. Bynne-
man, 1583, the Latin adverb, obscure, is interpreted " darkcly, ob
scurely, DIFFUSELY."

156 THE LIFE OF
much your great reverence. Thus- shall ye not
only obtain to yourselves great commendation
and praise for the same, but also advance the
honour of your prince and country. Now go
your ways admonished of aU these points, and
prepare yourselves against to-morrow, for then
we intend, God wUling, to set forward." And
thus, we being by him instructed and informed,
departed to our lodgings, making aU things in a
readiness against the next day to advance forth
with my lord.
The next morrow, being Mary Magdalen's
day, all things being furnished, my Lord Car
dinal rode out of Calais with such a number of
black velvet coats as hath not been seen with an
ambassador. AU the spears of Calais, Guines,
and Hammes, were there attending upon him in
that journey, in black velvet coats, and many
great and massy chains of gold were worn there.
Thus passed he forth with three gentlemen
in a rank, which occupied the length of three
quarters of a mUe or more, having aU his accus
tomed and glorious furniture carried before him,
as I before have rehearsed, except the broad
seal, the which was left with Doctor Taylor, in
Calais, then Master of the Rolls, until his return *.
* The great seal could not be carried out of the king's dominions.
without violating the law ; letters patent were passed to enable Dr.
Taylor to hold it in his absence.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 157
Passing thus on his way, and being scant a mile
of his journey, it began to rain so vehemently
that I have not seen the like for the time ; that
endured until we came to Boulogne ; and or we
came to Sandyngfeld, the Cardinal of Loraine, a
goodly young gentleman, encountered my lord,
and received him with great reverence and joy ;
and so passed forth together, untU they came to
Sandyngfeld, which is a place of religion, standing
between the French, English, and the Emperor's
dominions, being neuter, holding of neither of
them. And being come thither, met with him
there Le Countie Brion, Captain of Picardy,
with a great number of men of arms, as Stradiots
and Arbenois s with others standing in array, in
a great piece of oats, aU in harness, upon light
horses, passing with my lord, as it were in a wing,
aU his journey through Picardy ; for my lord
somewhat doubted the emperor, lest he would
lay an ambush to betray hun ; for which cause

5 Stradiots and Arbenois. These were light armed cavalry, said
by Guicciardini to have been Greek mercenaries in the service of
Venice, retaining their Greek name aTparidirai. Arbenois is Alba-
'nians, Albanois, Fr. The following passage from Nicot Thresor
de la Langue Franqoise, ed. 1 606. Jb^ will fully explain this:
" A present on apelle en particulier Albanois ces hommes de
cheval armez a la legere, autrement dit Stratiote, ou Stradiots (par
la consonne inoyenne), qui portent les chapeaux k haute testifere,
desquels on se sert pour chevaux legers, qui viennent dudit pays
d'Albanie, dont les Papes se servent encore de ce temps is garnisons
de plusieurs villes du Saint siege, Albani, olim Epirotce."

158 THE LIFE OF
the French king commanded them to await upon
my lord for the assurance of his person out of
the danger of his enemies. Thus rode he ac
companied untU he came to the town of Bou
logne, where he was encountered within a mUe
thereof, with the worshipfuUest citizens of the
town, having among them a learned man, that
made to him an oration in Latin ; unto the
which my lord made answer semblably in Latin.
And that done. Monsieur du Biez, Captain of
Boulogne, with the retinue there of gentlemen,
met him on horseback ; which conveyed him
into the town with all this assembly, until he
came to the abbey gate, where he lighted and
went directly into the church, and made his
prayers before the image of our Lady, to whom
he made his offering. And that done, he gave
there his blessing to the people, with certain
days of pardon 6. Then went he into the abbey

^ In like manner, we saw, a little above, that at Calais he gave
" benediction and pardon." From a letter to the cardinal, from
Humfrey Monmouth, confined in the Tower on suspicion of heresy^
¦we may gather what notion was entertained, even by comparatively
enlightened men, of the efficacy of these pardons. " If I had
broken most part of the Ten Commandments of God, being penitent
and confessed (I should be forgiven) by reason of certain pardons
that I have, the which my company and I had graunted, whan we
were at Rome, going to Jerusalem, of the holy father the pope, a
poena eta culpa, for certain times in the year: and that, I trust in
God, I received at Easter last past. Furthermore I received, when
your grace was last atPawles, I trust in God, your pardon of a ;).(Ere«

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 159
where he was lodged, and his train were lodged
in the high and basse towns.
The next morning, after he heard mass, he
rode unto Montreuil sur la mer, where he was
encountered in like case as he was the day before,
with the worshipfuUest of the town, all in one
Uvery, having one learned that made an oration
before him in Latin, whom he answered in like
manner in Latin ; and as he entered in to the
town, there was a canopy of sUk embroidered
with the letters and hat that was on the servants
coats, borne over him [by] the persons of most
estimation within the town. And when he was
alighted his footmen seized the same as a fee
due to their office. Now was there made divers
pageants for joy of his coming, who was caUed
there, and in all other places within the realm of
France as he traveUed, Le Cardinal Pacifique ;
and in Latin Cardinalis Pacificus. [He] was
accompanied all that night with divers worthy
gentlemen of the country there about '.
— "^  , 1 . Ill
et a culpa ; the which I believe verily, if I had done never so great
ofi'ences, being penitent and confessed, and axing forgiveness, that
I should have forgiveness." Strype's Ecclesiast. Memor. vol. i. p;
248. Appendix. The cardinal had also a bull granted by Pope
Leo Xth. A. n. 1518. to give in certain cases and conditions plenary
remission from all sins. Fiddes, p. 48. Appendix. W.
' Among other distinguished honours conferred by Francis upon
the Cardinal was the singular privilege of pardoning and releasing
prisoners and delinquents confined in the towns through which h?
p^sed, in the same manner as the king himself was used to do :
the only culprits excluded from the power of pardon given him by
this patent were those guilty of the most capital crimes.

160 THE LIFE OF
The next day he rode toward Abbeville,
where he was encountered with divers gentle
men of the town and country, and so conveyed
unto the town, where he was most honourably
received with pageants of divers kinds, wittUy
and costly invented, standing in every corner of
the streets as he rode through the town ; having
a like canopy borne over him, being of more
richer sort than the other at Montreuil, or at
Boulogne was ; they brought him to his lodging,
which was, as it seemed, a very fair house newly
buUt with brick. At which house King Louis
married my Lady Mary, King Henry the Vlllth
sister ; which was after married to the Duke of
Suffolk, Charles Brandon. And being within,
it was in manner of a gallery, yet notwithstand
ing it was very necessary. In this house my
lord remained eight or ten days ; to whom
resorted, daUy, divers of the council of France,
feasting them, and other noble men, and gen
tlemen that accompanied the councU, both at
dinners and suppers.
Then when the time came that he should
depart from thence, he rode to a castle beyond
the waters of Somme, caUed Pincquigny Cas
tle, adjoining unto the said water, standing upon
a great rock or hill, within the which was a
goodly coUege of priests ; the situation whereof
was most like unto the castle of Windsor in
England; and there he was received with a

CARDINAL WOLSEY. l6l
solemn procession, conveying him first into the
church, and after unto his lodging within the
castle. At this castle King Edward the Fourth
met with the French king, upon the bridge that
goeth over the water of Somme, as ye may
read in the chronicles of England.
When my lord was settled within his lodging,
it was reported unto me that the French king
should come that day into Amiens, which was
within six English mUes of Pincquigny Castie ;
and being desirous to see his first coming into
the town, [I] axed license and" took with me
one or two gentlemen of my lord's, and rode
incontinent thither, as well to provide me of a
necessary lodging as to see the king. And
when we came thither, being but strangers, [we]
took up our inn (for the time) at the sign of the
Angel, directly against the west door of the
cathedral church de notre Dame Sainte Marie.
And after we had dined there, tarrying until
three or four of the clock, expecting the king's
coming, in came Madame Regent, the king's
mother, riding in a very rich chariot; and in
the same with her was her daughter, the Queen
of Navarre, furnished with a hundred ladies and
gentlewomen or more following, riding upon
white palfreys ; over and besides divers other
ladies and gentlewomen that rode some in rich
chariots, and some in horse litters ; who lighted

162 THE LIFE OF
at the west door with all this train, accompanied
with many other noblemen and gentlemen be
sides her guard, which was not smaU in num
ber. Then, within two hours after, the king
came into the town with a great shot of guns
and divers pageants, made for the nonce at the
king's bien venue ; having about his person both
before him and behind him, besides the won
derful number of noblemen and gentlemen, three
great guards diversely apparelled. The first was
of Soutchess and Burgonyons, with guns and
havresacks. The second was of Frenchmen,
some with bows and arrows, and some .with
bUls. The third guard was pour le corps, which
was of taU Scots, much more comelier persons
than aU the rest. The French guard and the
Scots had all one livery, which was rich coats of
fine white cloth, with a guard of sUver buUion
embroidered an handful broad. The king came
riding upon a goodly genet, and lighted at the
west door of the said church, and so [was] con
veyed into the church up to the high altar, where
he made his prayers upon his knees, and [was]
then conveyed into the bishop's palace, where
he was lodged, and also his mother.
The next morning I rode again to Pincquigny

° i. e. Switzers. Cavendish revels in his subsequent description
of the taU Scots who formed the French king's body guard.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. l63
to attend upon my lord, at which time my lord was
ready to take his mule towards Amiens ; and pass
ing on his journey thitherward, he was encoun
tered from place to place with divers noble and
worthy personages, making to him divers orations
in Latin, to which he made answer again extem
pore ; at whose exceUent learning and pregnant
wit they wondered very much. Then was word
brought my lord that the king was coming to
encounter him ; with that, he having none other
shift, was compelled to aUght in an old chapel that
stood by the high way, and there newly appareUed
him into more richer apparel ; and then mounted
. upon a new mule very richly trapped, with a
footcloth and traps of crimson velvet upon vel
vet, purled with gold, and fringed about with
a deep fringe of gold very costly, his stirrups
of sUver and gUt, the bosses and cheeks of his
bridle of the same^. And by that time that
he was mounted again a,fter this most gor-

9 Whose mule if it should be sold
So gayly trapped with velvet and gold
And given to us for our schare,
I durst ensure the one thing
As for a competent lyvynge
This seven yeare we should not care. Roy's Satire,
In the picture of the Champs de drap d'or, which has been
engraved by the Society of Antiquaries, the cardinal appears
mounted on a richly caparisoned mule.
M 2

164 THE LIFE OF
geous sort, the king was come very near,
within less than a quarter of a mile English,
mustering upon an hiU side, his guard stand
ing in array along the same, expecting my
lord's coining ; to whom my lord made as much
haste as conveniently it became him ; untU he
came within a pair of butt lengths, and there
he staid awhUe. The king perceiving that, stood
StiU ; and having two worthy gentlemen young
and lusty [with him], both brethren to the
Duke of Lorraine, and to the Cardinal of Lor
raine ; whereof one of them was called Monsieur
de Guise, and the other Monsieur Vaudemont :
they were both apparelled like the king, in pur
ple velvet lined with cloth of silver, and their
coats cut, the king caused Monsieur Vaudemont
to issue from him, and to ride unto my lord to
know the cause of his tracting. [This mon
sieur] rode upon a fair courser, taking his '
race in a fuU gallop, even until he came unto
my lord; and there caused his horse to come
aloft once or twice so nigh my lord's mule, that
he was in doubt of his horse ; and with that he
lighted from his courser, and doing his message
to my lord with humble reverence ; which done,
he mounted again, and caused his horse to do
the same at his departing as he did before, and
so repaired again to the king; and, after his
answer made, the king advanced forward. That

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 165
seeing my lord did the like, and in the mid way
they met, embracing each other on horseback,
with most amiable countenance entertaining each
other right nobly. Then drew into the place
all noblemen and gentlemen on both sides, with
wonderful cheer made one to another, as they
had been of an old acquaintance. The prease
was such and [so] thick, that divers had their
legs hurt with horses. Then the king's officers
cried " Marche, marche, devant, alle% devant."
And the king, and my Lord Cardinal on his
right hand, rode together to Agiiens, every;.,
English gentleman accompanied with another
of France. The train of French and English
endured two long mUes, that is to say from
the place of their encounter unto Amiens ;
where they were very nobly received with shot
of guns a;nd costly pageants, until the king had
brought my lord to his lodging, and there de
parted asunder for that night, the king being
lodged in the bishop's palace. The next day
after dinner, my lord with a great train of no
blemen and gentlemen of England, rode unto
the king's court ; at which time the king kept
his bed, being somewhat diseased, yet notwith
standing my lord came into his bedchamber,
where sat on the one side of his bed his mo
ther. Madam Regent, and on the other side the
Cardinal of Lorraine, with divers other noble-

166 THE LIFE OF
men of France. And after a short communica
tion, and drinking of a cup of wine with the
king's mother, my lord departed again to his
lodging, accompanied with divers gentlemen
and noblemen of France, who supped with him.
Thus continued the king and my lord in Amiens
the space of two weeks and more, consulting^
and feasting each other divers times. [And in
the feast of the Assumption of our Lady, my
lord rose betimes and went to the cathedral

' A previous negotiation of a singular nature had been begun,
for the Bishop of Bath writes to the cardinal in March, 1527j that
" Francis is very desirous to have the Princess Mary, and to have
her delivered into his hands as soon as the peace is concluded.
Our king pretends her non age, and will have all, pension, &c.,
concluded first. The Queen Regent is earnest also for the present
marriage : Saying there is no danger, for she herself was married
at xi. And for this match there might be a device to satisfy both
sides, saying the princess will be well toward xii by August. 'At
that time both princes should meet at Calais with a small com
pany and charge, there her son, after the marriage solemnized,
might abide himself for an hour or less with my Lady Princess ;
she said the king her son was a man of honour and discretion, and
would use no violence, especially the father and mother being so
nigh ; meaning, that conatus ad copulam cum ilia, qum est proxima
pubertati, prudentia supplente cetatem, should make every thing
sure that neither party should now vary. So the king her son
might be assured of his wife, and King Henry carry back his
daughter till she should be accounted more able, &c. This over
ture our ambassadors think very strange." Fiddes Collections,
p. 176. The Bishop of Bath returned into England soon after the
cardinal went on his mission, to relate to Henry the course adopted
by the cardinal in treating with Francis, and also to explain to him
certain devices concerning his own secret matters. Mr. Master's
Collections.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 167
church de notre Dame, and there before ipy
Lady Regent and the Queen of Navarre, in
our Lady Chapel, he said his service and
mass ; and after mass, he himself ministered the
sacrament unto my Lady Regent and to the
Queen of Navarre. And that done, the king
resorted unto the church, and was conveyed
into a rich travers at the high altar; and di-
rectiy against him, on the other side of the
altar, sat my Lord Cardinal in another rich
travers 2, three gressis^ higher than the king's.
And at the altar, before them both, a bishop
sang high mass, and at the fraction of the host
the same bishop divided the sacrament between
the king and, the cardinal, for the performance
of the peace concluded between them ; which
mass was sung solemnly by the king's chapel,
having among them cornets and sackbuts.
And after mass was done the trumpeters blew
in the roodeloff* untU the king was past in
ward to his lodging out of the churchi And
at his coming in to the bishop's palace, where

" Skinner explains this word, a curtain. It evidently signifies
here an enclosed or divided space or seat, decorated with rich
draperies or curtains. In another place we have a traverse of
sarsenet, which confirms Skinner's explanation.
3 Grises,,greeses, or steps, for it was spelt various ways according
to the caprice of the writer, from the Latin gressus.
* The roodeloft was the place where the cross stood ; it was ge
nerally placed over the passage out of the church into the chancel.

l68 THE LIFE OF
he intended to dine with my Lord Cardinal,
there sat, within a cloister, about two hundred
persons diseased with the king's evU, upon
their knees. And the king, or ever he went to
dinner, provised every of them with rubbing
and blessing them with his bare hands, being
bare headed all the whUe ; after whom foUowed
his almoner distributing of money unto the per
sons diseased. And that done he said certain
prayers over them, and then washed his hands,
and so came up into his chamber to dinner,
where as my lord dined with him s.]
Then it was determined that the king and my
lord should remove out of Amiens, and so they
did, to a town or city called Compeigne, which
was more than twenty English mUes from
thence ; unto which town I was sent to pre
pare my lord's lodging. And as I rode on
my journey, being upon a Friday, my horse
chanced to cast a shoe in a little vUlage, where
stood a fair castle. And as it chanced there
dwelt a smith, to whom I commanded my ser^
vant to carry my horse to shoe, and standing
by him whUe my horse was a shoeing, there
came to me one of the servants of the castle,
perceiving me to be the cardinal's servant and

¦' The passage within brackets is not to be found, in any of the-
more recent MSS., nor in Dr. Wordsworth's edition.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. l69
an Englisliman, who required me to go with
him into the castle to my lord his master, whom
he thought would be very glad of my coming
and company. Whose request I granted, be
cause that I was always desirous to see and be
acquainted with strangers, in especial with men
in honour and authority, so I went with him ;
who conducted me unto the castie, and being
entered in the first ward, the watchmen of
that ward, being very honest taU men, came
and saluted me most reverentiy, and knowing
the cause of my coming, desired me to stay a
little whUe until they had advertised my lord
their master of my being there ; and so I did.
And incontinent the lord of the castle came
out to me, who was caUed Monsieur Crequi, a
nobleman bom, and very nigh of blood to King
Louis, the last king that reigned before this King
Francis. And at his first coming he embraced
me, saying that I was right heartUy welcome^
and thanked me that I so gently would visit
him and his castle, saying furthermore that he
was preparing to encounter the king and my
lord, to desire them most humbly the next day
to take his castle in their way, if he could so
intreat them. And true it is that he was ready
to ride in a coat of velvet with a pair of velvet
arming shoes on his feet, and a pair of gilt
spurs on his heels. Then he took me by the

l70 THE LIFE OF
hand, and most gently led me into his castle,
through another ward. And being once entered
into the base court of the castie, I saw all his
famUy and household servants standing in goodly
order, in black coats and gowns, like mourners,
who led me into the haU, which was hanged
with hand-guns, as thick as one could hang by
another upon the waUs ; and in the hall stood
an hawk's perch, whereon stood three or four
fair goshawks. Then went we into the parlour,
which was hanged with fine old arras, and being
there but a whUe, communing together of my
lord of Suffolk, how he was there to have be
sieged the same, his servants brought to him
bread and wine of divers sorts, whereof he
caused me to drink. And after, " I will," quoth
he, " show you the strength of my house, how
hard it would have been for my Lord of Suffolk
to have won it." Then led he me upon the
waUs, which were very strong, more than fifteen
foot thick, and weU garnished with great bat
tery pieces of ordnance ready charged to [be]
shot off against the king and my lord's coming.
When he had showed me all the walls and
bulwarks about the castle, he descended from
the walls, and came down into a fair inner
court, where his genet stood for to mount upon,
with twelve other genets, the most fairest and
best that ever I saw, and in especial his own.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. I7I
which was a mare genet, he showed me that he
might have had for her four hundred crowns.
But upon the other twelve genets were mounted
twelve goodly young gentiemen, caUed pages
of honour; all bare headed in coats of cloth
of gold, and black velvet cloaks, and on their
legs boots of red Spanish leather, and spurs
parcel gUt.
Then he took his leave of me, commanding
his steward and other his gentlemen to attend
upon me, and conduct me unto my lady his
wife, to dinner. And that done he mounted
upon his genet, and took his journey forth out
of his castle. Then the steward, with the rest
of the gentlemen, led me up into a tower in the
gatehouse, where then my lady their mistress
lay, for the time that the king and my lord
should tarry there.
I being in a fair great dining chamber, where
the table was covered for dinner, and there I
attended my lady's coming ; and after she came
thither out of her own chamber, she received me
most gently, Uke [one of] noble estate, having a
train of twelve gentlewomen. And when she
with her train came aU out, she said to me, " For
as much," quoth she, " as ye be an Englishman,
whose custom is in your country to kiss^ all ladies
* Erasmus, in a letter to Aleander, dwells with delight upon
this custom :
" Quanquam si Britannix dotes satis pernosses Fauste, na; tu

172 THE LIFE OF
and gentlewomen without offence, and although
it be not so here in this realm, yet wiU I be so
bold to kiss you, and so shaU all my maidens."
By means whereof I kissed my lady and all her
women. Then went she to her dinner, being
as nobly served as I have seen any of her
estate here in England, having all the dinner
time with me pleasant communication, which
was of the usage and behaviour of our gentle
women and gentlemen of England, and com
mended much the behaviour of them, right excel
lently ; for she was with the king at Ardres,
when the great encounter and meeting was be
tween the French king and the king our sovereign
lord : at which time she was, both for her person
and goodly haviour, appointed to company with
the ladies of England. To be short, after dinner,
alatis pedibus, hue accurreres; et si podagra tua non sineret,
Dsedalum te fieri optares. Nam ut e pluribus unum quiddam
attingam. Sunt hie nymphse divinis vultibus, blandse, faciles, et
quas tu tuis Cameenis facile anteponas. Est prceterea mos nunquam
satis laudatus : Sive quo venias omnium osculis exciperis ; sive
discedas aliquo, oscuUs demitteris : redis ? redduntur suavia ; ve-
nitur ad te ? propinantur suavia : disceditur abs te ? dividuntur
basia : occuritur alicubi ? basiatur afiatim : denique, quocunque te
moveas, suaviorum plena sunt omnia. Quse si tu,, Fauste, gus-
tasses semel quam sint moUicula, quam fragrantia, profecto cupe-
res non decennium solum, ut Solon fecit, sed ad mortem usque in
Anglia peregrinari." Erasmi Epistol. p. 315, edit. 1642. "It
becometh nat therefore the persones religious to folowe the maner
of secular persones, that in theyr congresses and commune metyngs
or departyng done use to kysse, take hands, or such other touch-
ings, that good religious persones shulde utterly avoyde." Whyt-
ford's Pype of Perfection, fol. 213. b. a. ». 1532. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 173
pausing a littie, I took my leave of her, and so
departed and rode on my journey.
By reason of my tracting of time in Chastel
de Crequi', I was constrained that night to lye
in a town by the way, caUed Montdidier, the
suburbs whereof my Lord of Suffolk had lately
burned. And in the next morning I took my
jom-ney and came to Compeigne upon the Satur
day, then being there the market day ; and at
my first coming I took my inn in the midst of the
market-place, and being there set at dinner in a
fair chamber, that had a window looking into
the street, I heard a great rumour and clattering
of bUls. With that I looked out into the street,
and there I espied where the officers of the
town brought a prisoner to execution, whose
head they strake off with a sword. And when
I demanded the cause of his offence, it was an
swered me, that it was for kUling of a red deer
in the forest thereby, the punishment whereof
is but death. Incontinent they had set up the
poor man's head upon a pole in the market
place, between the stag's horns ; and his quar
ters in four parts of the forest.

1 This name is spelt Creeky and Cryhky in the autograph MS.
In Wordsworth's edition it is Crokey. Grove has it Crockly, and
two of the MSS. copies Crokir. I know not whether I have di
vined the true orthography, but there was a noble family of this
name at the time.

174 THE LIFE OF
Thus went I about to prepare my lord's
lodging, and to see it furnished, which was
there in the great castie of the town, whereof
to my lord was assigned the one hal^ and the
other half was reserved for the king ; and in
like wise there was a long gaUery divided be
tween them, wherein was made in the midst
thereof a strong waU with a door and window,
and there the king and my lord would many
times meet at the same window, and secretly
talk together, and divers times they would go
the one to the other, at the said door.
Now was there lodged also Madame Regent,
the king's mother, and aU her train of ladies
and gentlewomen. Unto which place the Chan
ceUor of France came (a very witty man), with
all the king's grave counseUors, who took great
pains daUy in consultation. In so much as I
heard my Lord Cardinal fall out with the Chan
ceUor, laying unto his charge, that he went
about to hinder the league which my said Lord
Cardinal had before his coming concluded be
tween the king our sovereign lord and the
French king his master ; insomuch that my lord
stomached the matter very stoutly, and told
him, " That it should not lie in his power to
dissolve the amicable fidelity between them.
And if his master the king being there present
forsook his promise and followed his counsel.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 175
he should not faU after his return into England
to feel the smart, and what a thing it is to break
promise with the King of England, whereof
he should be weU assured." And therewithal
he arose and went into his own lodging, won-
drously offended. So that his stout counte
nance, and bold words, made them all in doubt
how to pacify his displeasure, and revoke him
again to the councU, who was then departed in
a fury. There was sending, there was coming,
there was also intreating, and there was great
submission made to him, to reduce him to his
former friendly communication ; who would in
no wise relent until Madame Regent came her
self, who handled the matter so discreetly and
wittUy, that she reconcUed • him to his former
communication. And by that means he brought
other matters to pass, that before he could- not
attain, nor cause the councU to grant; which
was more for fear, than for any affection to the
matter, he had the heads of all the councU
so under his girdle that he might rule them
aU there as well as he might the council of
England. The next morning after this conflict, he rose
early, about four of the clock, sitting down to
write letters into England unto the king, com
manding one of his chaplains to prepare him to
mass, insomuch that his said chaplain stood

176 THE LIFE OF
revested untU four of the clock at afternoon ;
aU which season my lord never rose once to
 , ne yet to eat any meat, but continuaUy
wrote his letters, with his own hands, having
aU that time his nightcap and keverchief on his
head. And about the hour of four of the clock,
at afternoon, he made an eud of writing, con-
manding one Christopher Gunner, the king's
servant, to prepare him without delay to ride
empost into England with his letters, whom he
dispatched away or ever he drank. And that
done, he went to mass, and said his other
divine service with his chaplain, as he was
accustomed to do ; and then went straight into
a garden; and after he had walked the space
of an hour or more, and said his evensongs, he
went to dinner and supper aU at once ; and
making a small repast, he went to his bed, to
take his rest for that night.
The next night following he caused a great
supper to be provided for Madame Regent,
and the Queen of Navarre, and other great
estates of ladies and noble women.
There was also Madame Rene6, one of the

*' Evensong. " Which persons for their waiting befoir noon hath
licence at afternoon to go about their own business from the saide
noon to iij of the clocke that evensong begin."
Northumberland Household Book, p. 310.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 177
daughters, of King Louis, whose sister, (lately
dead). King Francis had married. These sis
ters were, by their mother, inheritrices of
the Duchy of Britanny, and for as much as
the king had married one of the sisters, by
whom he had the moiety of the said duchy,
and to attain the other moiety, and so to be
lord of the whole, he kept the said Lady Rene6
without marriage, intending that, she having
none issue, the whole duchy might descend to
him, or to his succession, after her death, for
want of issue of her body.
But now let us return again to the supper or
rather a solemn banquet, where all these noble
persons were highly feasted ; and in the midst
of their triumph, the French king, with the king
of Navarre, came suddenly in upon them un
known, who took their places at the nether end
of the table. There was not only plenty of fine
meats, but also much mirth and solace, as weU
in communication, as in instruments of music
set forth with my lord's minstrels, who played
there so cunningly and dulce all that night, that
the king took therein great pleasure, insomuch
that he desired my lord to lend them unto him
the next night. And after supper and banquet
finished, the ladies and gentlewomen went to
dancing ; among whom one Madame Fountaine, N

178 THE LIFE OF
a maid, had the prize. And thus passed they
the night in pleasant mirth and joy.
The next day the king took my lord's min
strels and rode unto a nobleman's house, where
was some goodly image that he had avowed a
pUgrimage unto, to perform his devotion. When
he came there, he danced, and others with him,
the most part of that night ; my lord's minstrels
played there so exceUently aU that night, that
the shalme — % (whether it were with extreme
labour of blowing, or with poisoning, as some
judged, because they were more commended
and accepted with the king than his own, I can
not tell), but he that played upon the shalme, an
excellent man in that art, died within a day or
twain after.
Then the king returned again unto Com
peigne, arid caused a wUd boar to be lodged for
him in the forest there ; whither my lord rode

9 The shalme, or shawm, was a wind instrument like a haut
boy, with a swelling protuberance in the middle. In " Comme-
nius's Visible World," translated by Hoole, 1659, the Latin word
gingras is translated by shawn, and the form of the instrument is
represented as below. Its proper name appears to have been
shawms ; it is derived from the Teutonic. Drayton mentions it as
shrill-toned : ' E'en from the shrUlest shaum unto the cornamute.'
Polyolbion v. iv. p. 376.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 179
with the king to the hunting of the wild swine
within a toU ; where the Lady Regent stood in
chariots or wagons, looking on the toU, on the
outside thereof, accompanied with many ladies
and damosels ; among whom my lord stood by
the Lady Regent, to regard and behold the
pastime and manner of hunting. There was
within the toU divers goodly gentlemen with the
king, ready garnished to this high enterprise
and dangerous hunting of the perUous wUd
swine. The king being in his doublet and
hosen only, without any other garments, all of
sheep's colour cloth ; his hosen, from th6 knee
upward, was altogether thrummed with silk very
thick of the same colour : having in a slip a fair
brace of great white greyhounds, armed, as the
manner is to arm their greyhounds from the
violence of the boar's tusks. And all the rest of
the king's gentiemen, being appointed to hunt
this boar, were likewise in their doublets and
hosen, holding each of them in their hands a
very sharp boar's spear.
The king being thus fiirnished, domiflanded
the hunts to uncouch the boar, and that every
other person should go to a standing} among
whom were divers gentlemen and yeomen of
England; and incontinent the boar issued out
of his den, chased with an hound into the plain,
and being there, stalked a whUe gaziflg upon
N 2 ^

180 THE LIFE OT
the people, arid incontinent being forced by the
hound, he espied a Uttle bush standing upon a
bank over a ditch, under the which lay two lusty
gentlemen of France, and thither fled the boar,
to defend him, thrusting his head snuffing into
the same bush where these two gentlemen lay,
who fled with such speed as men do from the
danger of death. Then was the boar by vio-
lerice and pursuit of the hounds and the hunts
driven from thence, and ran straight to one of
my lord's footmen, a very comely person, and
an hardy, who held in his hand an English
javelin, with the which he was fain to defend
himself froni the fierce assault of the boar,
who foined at him continuaUy with his great
tusks, whereby he was compeUed at the last
to pitch his javelin in the ground between
him and the boar, the which the boar brake
yvith his force of foining. And with that
the yeoman drew his sword, and stood at de
fence ; and with that the hunts came to the
rescue, and put him once again to flight. With
that he fled and ran to another young gentleman
of England, caUed Master Ratcliffe, son and
heir to the Lord Fitzwalter, and after ^ Earl of

• Now, Wordsworth's edit. The passages within brackets which
follow are not found in any other manuscript: a space almost
¦always marking the deficiency of this relation, and the succeeding
account of the libels of the French against the cardinal.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 181
Sussex, who by chance had borrowed of a
French gentieman a fine boar spear, [very
sharp, upon whom, the boar being sore chafed,
began to assault very eagerly, and the young
gentieman deliverly avoided his strokes, and in
turning about he struck the boar with such vio
lence (with the same spear that he had bor
rowed) upon the houghs, that he cut the sinews
of both his legs at one stroke, that the boar was
constrained to sit down upon his haunches and
defend himself, for he could go no more ; this
gentleman perceiving then his most advantage,
thrust his spear into the boar under the shoulder
up to the heart, and thus he slew the great boar.
Wherefore among the noblemen of France it
was reputed to be one of the noblest enter
prises that a man might do (as though he had
slain a man of arms) ; and thus our Master
Ratcliffe bare then away the prize of that feat of
hunting, this dangerous and royal pastime, in
killing of the wild boar, whose tusks the French
man doth most commonly doubt above all other
darigers, as it seemed to us Englishmen then
being present.]
[In this time of my lord's being in France,
over and besides his noble entertainment with
the king and nobles, he sustained diverse dis
pleasures of the French slaves, that devised a
certain book, which was set forth in diverse

182 THE LIFE OF
articles upon the causes of my lord's being there :
which should be, as they surmised, that niy lord
was come thither to conclude two marriages ;
the one between the king our sovereign lord
and Madame Rene6^, of whom I spake hereto
fore ; and the other between the then princess
of England, (now being queen of this realm) my
Lady Mary the king's daughter and the French
king's second son, the Duke of Orleans, who is
at this present king of France: with diverse
other conclusions and agreements touching the
same. Of this book many were imprinted and
conveyed into England, unknown to my lord,
[he] being then in France, to the great slander
of the realm of England, and of my Lord Car
dinal. But whether they were devised of policy
to pacify the mutterings of the people, which

° Catherine Re^iee, one of the daughters of Louis the Twelfth.
It does not seem that this exposition of the cardinal's views in re
gard to the union of Henry with this princess, in case of a divorce,
were without foundation, for he persuaded himself that Henry's
passion for Anne Boleyn would soon subside, and thought this
alliance a sure mode of perpetuating the peace and union between
the sovereigns. The other part of the asserljion was proved true
by the subsequent treaty, in which it was agreed that the Princess
Mary should marry either Francis, or the Duke of Orleans ; the
first if he should remain a widower untjU she was of sufficient age,
the second if it seemed expedient that Francis should keep his
faith to the emperor, and marry his sister Leonwa, to whom he
was contracted by the Treaty of Madrid. Hence the necessity of
keeping these . designs secret, and the cardinal's anger at their
developement.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 183
had diverse communications and imaginations
of my lord's being there; or whether [they]
were devised of some maUcious person, as the
dispositions of the common people are accus
tomed to do, upon such secret consultations, I
know not ; but whatsoever the occasion or
cause was, the author hath set forth such
books. This I am weU assured, that after
my lord was thereof weU advertised, and had
perused one of the said books, he was not a little
offended, and assembled all the privy councU of
France together, to whom he spake his mind
thus ; saying, that it was not only a suspicion
in them, but also a great rebuke and a defama
tion to the king's honour to see and know any
such seditious untruths openly divulged and set
forth by any malicious and subtle traitor of
this realm ; saying furthermore, that if the like
had been attempted within the realm of England,
he doubted not but to see it punished according
to the traitorous demeanour and deserts. Not
withstanding 1 saw but small redress^].
' This passage stands in the ordinary MSS., and in Dr. Words
worth's option. In the foUowing abridged and confused manner.
The transcribers of the MSS. appear to have been sensible that
their copy was defective, for in several of them one or two blank
leaves are here left.
« Now shortly after there were divers malicious practices pre
tended against us by the French, who by their theft somewhat
impaired us : whereupon one of them, being a man I was well
acquainted with, maintained a seditious untruth, openly divulged,

184 THE LIFE OF
So this was one of the displeasures that the
Frenchmen showed him, for all his pains and
travaU that he took for qualifying of their king's
ransom. Also another displeasure was this. There
was no place where he was lodged after he
entered the territory of France, but that he was
robbed in his privy chaipber, either of one thing
or other ; and at Compeigne he lost his standish
of sUver, and gUt : and there it was espied, and
the party taken, which was but a little boy of
twelve or thirteen years of age, a ruffian's page
of Paris, which haunted my lord's lodging with
out any suspicion, untU he was taken lying under
my lord's privy stairs; upon which occasion he
was apprehended and examined, and inconti
nent confessed all things that were missed, which
he stole, and brought to his master the ruffian,
who received the same, and procured him so to
do. After the spial of this boy, my lord re
vealed the same unto the council, by means
whereof the ruffian was apprehended, and set
on the pillory, in the midst of the market-place ;
a goodly recompense for such an heinous offence.

and set forth by a subtle and traitorous subject of their realm,
saying also that he doubted not, but the like had been attempted
within the king of England his majesty's dominions ; but to see so
open and manifest blasphemy to be openly punished, according to
their traitorous deserts, notwithstanding I saw but small redress."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 185
Also another displeasure was ; some lewd per
son, whosoever it was, had engraved in the great
chamber window where my lord lay, upon the
leaning stone there, a cardinal's hat with a pair
of gaUows over it, in derision of my lord ; with
divers other unkind demeanours, the which I
leave here to write, they be matters so slan
derous. Thus passing divers days in consultation,
expecting the return of Christopher Gunner,
which was sent into England with letters unto
the king, as it is rehearsed heretofore, by em
post, who at last returned again with other
letters ; upon receipt whereof my lord made
haste to return into England.
In the morning that my lord should depart
and remove, being then at mass in his closet,
he consecrated the Chancellor of France a car
dinal, and put upon him the habit due to that
order ; and then took his journey into England-
ward, making such necessary expedition that
he came to Guisnes, where he was nobly re
ceived of my Lord Sands, then captain there,
with aU the retinue thereof And from thence
he rode to Calais, where he tarried the ship
ping of his stuff, horses, and train ; and in the
meantime he established there a mart, to be
kept for aU nations ; but how long it endured,
and in what sort it was used, I know not, for I

186 THE LIFE OF
never heard of any great good that it did, or
of any worthy assembly there of merchants or
merchandise, that was brought thither for the
furniture of so weighty a matter.
These things finished, and others for the
weal of the town, he took shipping and arrived
at Dover, from whence he rode to the king,
being then in his progress at Sir Harry Wyatt's
house, in Kent, [it was] supposed among us
that he should be joyfuUy received at his home
coming, as weU of the king as of all other
noblemen : but we were deceived in our expecta
tion. Notwithstanding he went, immediately
after his coming, to the king, with whom he
had long talk, and continued there in the court
two or three days ; and then returned to his
house at Westminster, where he remained untU
Michaelmas term, which was within a fortnight
after, and using his room of Chancellorship, as
he was wont to do*
At which time he caused an assembly to be
made in the Star Chamber, of all the noblemen,
judges, and justices of the peace of every shire
that were at that present in Westminster HaU,
and there made to them a long oration, de
claring unto them the cause of his embassy into
France,^ and of his proceeding there ; among
the which he said, " he had concluded such an
amity and friendship as never was heard of in

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 18?
this realm in our time before, as well between
the emperor and< us, as between the French
king and our sovereign lord, concluding a
perpetual peace, which shall be confirmed in
writing, alternately, sealed with the broad seals
of both the realms graved in fine gold ; affirming
furthermore, that the king should receive yearly
his tribute, by tiiat name, for the Duchy of
Normandy, with all other costs which he hath
sustamed in the wars. And where there was a
restraint made in France of the French queen's
dower, whom the Duke of Suffolk had married,
for divers years during the wars, it is fully con
cluded, that she shall not only receive the same
yearly again, but also the arrearages being un
paid during the restraint. AU which things
shall be perfected at the coming of the great
embassy out of France : in the which shall be
a great number of noblemen and gentiemen for
the conclusion of the same, as hath not been
seen repair hither out of one realm in an em
bassy. This peace thus concluded, there shaU
be such an amity between gentiemen of each
realm, and intercourse of merchants with mer
chandise, that it shaU seem to aU men the ter
ritories to be but one, monarchy. Gentiemen
may travel quietiy from one country to another
for their recreation and pastime ; and merchants,
being anived in each countiy, shaU be assured

188 THE LIFE OF
to travel about their affairs in peace and tran-
quUlity : so that this realm shaU joy and prosper
for ever. Wherefore it shaU be weU done for
all true EngUshmen to advance and set forth
this perpetual peace, both in countenance and
gesture, with such entertainment as it may be
a just occasion unto the Frenchmen to accept
the same in good part, and also to use you with
the semblable, and make of the same a noble
report in their countries.
" Now, good my lords and gentlemen, I most
entirely require you in the king's behalf, that
ye wiU show yourselves herein very loving and
obedient subjects, wherein the king wiU much
rejoice [at] your towardness, and give to every
man his princely thanks for such liberality and
gentleness, as ye or any of you shall minister
unto them." And here he ended his persua
sion, and so departed into the dining chamber,
and dined among the lords of the councU.
This great embassy*, long looked for, was
now come over [with a great retinue], which were
jin number above fourscore persons, of the most
'noblest and worthiest gentlemen in all the court
of France, who were right honourably received

) " The twentieth of October, a. d. 1527. The embassadors were
the Mar^chal de Montmorency, the Bishop of Bayonne, the Pre
sident of Rouen, and Monsieur d'Humieres.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 189
from place to place after their arrival, and so
conveyed through London unto the bishop's
palace in Paul's Churchyard, where they were
lodged. To whom divers noblemen resorted
and gave them divers goodly presents ; and in
especial the Mayor and city of London, as
wine, sugar, wax, capons, wild fowl, beefs,
muttons, and other necessaries in great abun
dance, for the expenses of their house. Then
the next Sunday after their resort to London,
they repaired to the court at Greenwich, and
there, by the king's majesty, most highly re
ceived and entertained. They had a special
commission to create and stall the king's high
ness in the Royal order of France ; for which
purpose they brought with them a collar of fine
gold of the order, with a Michael hanging thereat,
and robes to the- same appurtenant, the which
was wondrous costly and comely, of purple
velvet, richly embroidered ; I saw the king in
aU this apparel and habit, passing through the
chamber of presence unto his closet ; and after
ward in the same habit at mass beneath in the
chapel. And to gratify the French king with
like honour, [he] sent incontinent unto [him] the
like order of England by a nobleman (the Earl of
WUtshire), purposely for that intent, to create
him one of the same order of England, accom
panied with Garter the Herald, with aU robes, gar-

190 THE LIFE OF
ter, and other habUiriients to the same belonging ;
as costiy in every degree as the other was of the
French king's, the which was done before the
return of the great embassy.
And for the performance of this noble and
perpetual peace, it was concluded and deter
mined that a solemn mass should be sung in
the cathedral church of Paul's by the cardinal 5
against which time there was prepared a gaUery
made from the west door of the church of Paul's
[through the body of the same], unto the quire
door, raUed on every side, upon the which stood
[vessels] foil of perfunies burning. Then the king
and my Lord Cardinal, and all the Frenchmen,
with all other noblemen and gentlemen, were
conveyed upon this gallery unto the high altar
into the traverses ; then my Lord Cardinal pre
pared himself to mass, associated with twenty-
four mitres of bishops and abbotSj attending
upon him^ and to serve him, in such ceremonies
as to him, by virtue of his legatitie prerogative^
were due.
And after the last agnus ^ the king rose out
of his travers and kneeled upon a cushion and

5 The book of ceremonies (compiled under the influence of the
Bishops Gardiner and ToUstall, and in opposition to that of Cran-
mer, about the year 1540, and designed to retain in the church
many operose and superstitious rites, by setting them off" with the
aids of a philosophical and subtle interpretation),, describing in

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 191
carpet at the high altar ; and the Grand Master
of France, the chief ambassador, that repre
sented the king his master, kneeled by the king's
majesty, between whom my lord divided the
sacrament, as a firm oath and assurance of this
perpetual peace. That done, the king resorted
again to his travers, and the Grand Master in
like ^se to his. This mass finished, which was
sung with the king's chapel and the quire of
Paul's, my Lord Cardinal took the instrument
of this perpetual peace and amity, and read the
same openly before the king and the assembly,
both of English and French, to the which the king
subscribed with his own hand, andthe Grand Mas
ter, for the French king, in like wise, the which
was sealed with seals of fine gold, engraven,
and delivered to each other as their firm deeds ;
and all this done and finished they departed.
The king rode home to the cardinal's house at
Westminster, to dinner, with whom dined all

succession the diff'erent parts of the Canon of the Mass, pi-octeds
thus, " Then saith the priest thrice, Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata
mundi, S^c. advertising us of three eflTects of Christ's passion;
whereof liie first is, deliverance from the misery of sin ; the second
is from pain of everlasting damnation ; wherefore he saith twice
Miserere nobis, that is to say. Have mercy on us ; and the third
eff"ect is, giving of everlasting peace, consisting in the glorious
fruition of God." Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials. Vol. i. p. 289.
Records. See also Mirror of our Lady. fol. 189, and Becon's
Works. Vol. iii. fol. 49. a.d. 1564. W.

192 THE LIFE OF
the Frenchmen, passing all day after in consulta
tion in weighty matters, touching the conclusion
of this peace and amity. That done, the king
went again by water to Greenwich ; at whose
departing it was determined by the king's device,
that the French gentlemen should resort unto
Richmond to hunt there, in every of the parks,
and from thence to Hampton Court, and therein
likewise to hunt, and there my Lord Cardinal
to make for them a supper, and lodge them
there that night ; and from thence they should
ride to Windsor, and there to hunt, and after
their return to London they should resort to the
court, whereas the king would banquet them.
And this perfectly determined, the king and
the Frenchmen all departed.
Then was there no more to do but to make
provision at Hampton Court for this assembly
against the day appointed. My Lord Cardinal
caUed for his principal officers of his house, as
his Steward, ComptroUer, and the Clerks of his
Kitchen, whom he commanded to prepare fer
this banquet at Hampton Court ; and neither to
spare for expenses or travaU, to make them such
triumphant cheer, as they may not only won
der at it here, but also make a glorious report
in their country, to the king's honour and [that]
of tbis realm. His pleasure once known, to
accomplish his commandment they sent forth all

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 193
the caterers, purveyors, and other persons, to
prepare of the finest viands that they could get,
other for money or friendship among my lord's
friends. Also they sent for all the expertest
cooks, besides my lord's, that they could get in
aU England, where they might be gotten, to serve
to garnish this feast.
The purveyors brought and sent in such plenty
of costiy provision, as ye would wonder at the
same. The cooks wrought both night and day
in divers subtieties and many crafty devices ;
where, lacked neither gold, silver, ne any other
costiy thing meet for the purpose.
The yeomen and grooms of the wardrobes
were busied in hanging of the chambers with
costly hangings, and fiimishing the same with
beds of sUk, and other furniture apt for the same
in every degree. Then my Lord Cardinal sent
me, being gentieman usher, with two other of
my feUows, to Hampton Court, to foresee all
things touching our rooms, to be noblUy gar
nished accordingly. Our pains were not small
or light, but traveling daily from chamber to
chamber. Then the carpenters, the joiners, the
masons, the painters, and aU other artificers ne
cessary to glorify the house and feast were set
at work. There was carriage and re-carriage of
plate, stuff, [and] other rich implements ; so that
there was nothing lacking or to be imagined or

194 THE LIFE OF
devised for the purpose. There were also four
teen score beds provided and fornished with all
manner of forniture to them belonging, too long
particularly here to rehearse. But to aU wise
men it sufficeth to imagine, that knoweth what
belongeth to the furniture of such triumphant
feast or banquet.
The day was come that to the Frenchmen was
assigned, and they ready assembled at Hampton
Court, something before the hour of their ap
pointment. Wherefore the officers caused them
to ride to Hanworth, a place and park of the
king's, within two or three mUes, there to hunt
and spend the time untU night. At which time
they returned again to Hampton Court, and
every of them conveyed to his chamber severally,
having in them great fires and wine ready to
refresh them, remaining there until their supper
was ready, and the chambers where they should
sup were ordered in due form. The first wait
ing-chamber was hanged with fine arras, and so
was aU the rest, one better than an other, fur
nished with tall yeomen. There was set tables
round about the chamber, banquet-wise, aU co
vered with fine cloths of diaper. A cupboard
I of plate, parcel gilt, having also in the same
i chamber, to give the more light, four plates of
silver, set with lights upon them, a great fire in
the chimney.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 195
The next chamber, being the chamber of pre
sence, hanged with very rich arras, wherein
was a gorgeous and a precious cloth of estate
hanged up, replenished with many goodly gentle- i
men ready to serve. The boards were set as the !
other boards were in the other chamber before,
save that the high table was set and removed
beneath the cloth of estate, towards the midst
of the chamber, covered with fine linen cloths of
damask work, sweetiy perfomed. There was a
cupboard made, for the time, in length, of the:
breadth of the nether end of the same chamber,,
six desks highe, fuU of gilt plate, very sumptuous,
and of the newest fashions ; and upon the ne
thermost desk garnished aU with plate of clean
gold, having two great candlesticks of sUver
and gUt, most curiously wrought, the workman
ship whereof, with the silver, cost three hundred
marks, and lights of wax as big as torches burn-

* These cupboards or rather sideboards of plate were necessary
appendages to every splendid entertainment. The form of them
somewhat resembled some Of the old cumbrous cabinets to be found
Still in ancient houses on the continent. There was a succession of
step-like stages, or desks, as Cavendish calls them, upon which the
plate was placed. The reader vfill have a better conception than
description can convey of this piece of antient ostentation, from a
print in a very curious work by Julio Bello, entitled Lad be a Aus-
TBiACA : Francof. 1627, folio, p. 640. Where our King James I.
is represented entertaining the Spanish ambassadors in 1623.
O 2

196 THE LIFE OF
ing upon the same. This cupboard was barred
in round about that no man might come nigh it ;
for there was none of the same plate occupied
or stirred during this feast, for there was suf
ficient besides. The plates that hung on the walls
to give light in the chamber were of sUver and
gUt, with lights burning in them, a great fire in
the chimney, and aU other things necessary for
the furniture of so noble a feast.
Now was all things in a readiness and supper
time at hand. My lord's officers caused the
trumpets to blow to warn to supper, arid the
said officers went right discreetly in due order
and conducted these noble personages from their
chambers unto the chamber of presence where
they should sup. And they, being there, caused
them to sit down ; their service was brought up
in such order and abundance, both costly and
' full of subtleties, with such a pleasant noise of
; divers instruments of music, that the French
men, as it seemed, were rapt into a heavenly
paradise. Ye must understand that my lord was not
there, ne yet come, but they being merry and
pleasant with their fare, devising and wondering
upon the subtieties. Before the second coursci
my Lord Cardinal came in aniong them, booted
and spurred, all suddenly, and bade them pro-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 197
faceT ; at whose coming they would have risen
and given place with much joy. Whom my
lord commanded to sit stUl, and keep their
rooms ; and straightways, being not shifted of!
his riding apparel, called for a chair, and sat I
himself down in the midst of the table, laughing,
and being as merry as ever I saw him in all my\
life. Anon came up the second course, with so
many dishes, subtieties, and curious devices,
which were above a hundred in number, of so i
goodly proportion and costly, that I suppose the
Frenchmen never saw the like. The wonder was
no less than it was worthy indeed. There were
castles with images in the same ', Paul's church
and steeple, in proportion for the quantity as well
counterfeited as the painter should have painted
it upon a cloth or wall. There were beasts, birds,
fowls of divers kinds, and personages, most lively
made and counterfeit in dishes ; some fighting,
as it were with swords, some with guns and
crossbows, some vaulting and leaping ; some
dancing with ladies, some in complete harness.

' Proface. An expression of welcome equivalent to Much good
may it do you ! Mr. Steevens conjectured it to be from the old
French expression, ' Bon prou leur face,' which is to be found in
Cof^ave in voce Paou. This was a happy conjecture of Mr. Stee
vens, for Mr. Nares has pointed out its true origin in the old
Norman-French or Romance language: ' Prouface souhait qui
veut dire, bien vous fasse, projiciat' Roquefort. Glossaire de la
Langue Romane.

198 THE LIFE or
justing with spears, and with many more de
vices than I am able with my wit [to] describe.
Among aU, one I noted : there was a chess board
/ subtilely made of spiced plate, with men to the
same ; and for the good proportion, because
I that Frenchmen be very expert in that play, my
lord gave the same to a gentleman of France,
commanding that a case should be made for the
same in all haste, to preserve it from perishing
in the conveyance thereof into his country.
Then my lord took a bowl of gold, which was
esteemed of the value of five hundred marks,
fiUed with hypocras, whereof there was plenty,
putting off his cap, said, " I drink to the
king my sovereign lord and master, and to the
king your master," and therewith drank a good
draught. And when he had done, he desired
the Grand Master to pledge him cup and aU, the
which cup he gave him ; and so caused aU the
other lords and gentiemen in other cups to pledge
these two royal princes.
/Then went cups merrUy about, that piany
of the Frenchmen were fain to be led to their
beds. Then went my lord, leaving thein sitting
still, into his privy chamber to shift him ; and
(making there a very short supper, or rather a
smaU repast, returned again among them into
the chamber of presenpe?, using them so nobly,
with so loving and familiar countenance and

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 199
entertainment, that they could not commend him
too much.
And whUst they were in communication and
other pastimes, all their liveries were served to
their chambers. Every chamber had a bason
and a ewer of sUver, some gUt, and some parcel
gUt ; and some two great pots of silver, in like
manner, and one pot at the least with wine and
beer, a bowl or goblet, and a sUver pot to drink
beer in ; a silver candlestick or two, with both
white Ughts and yeUow Ughts [of] three sizes of
wax ; and a staff torch ; a fine manchet, and a
cheat loaf of bread. Thus was every chamber
fornished throughout the house, and yet the
two cupboards in the two banqueting chambers
not once touched. Then being past midnight, as
time served they were conveyed to their lodg
ings, to take their rest for that night. In the
morning of the next day, (not early), they rose
and heard mass^ and dined with my lord, and so
departed towards Windsor, and there hunted,
delighting much of the castle and coUege, and
in the Order of the Garter. They being de
parted from Hampton Court, my lord returned
again to Westminster, because it was in the rriidst
of the term.
It is not to be doubted, but that the king was
privy of aU this worthy feast, [and] intended far
to exceed the same ; (whom I leave until the

200 THE LIFE OF
return of the Frenchmen), who gave a special
commandment to aU his officers to devise a far
[riiore] sumptuous banquet for the strangers,
otherwise than thiey had at Hampton Court;
which was not neglected, but most speedily put
in execution with great diligence.
After the return of these strangers from
Windsor, which place with the goodly order
thereof they much commended, the day ap
proached that they were invited to the court
at Greenwich ; where first they dined, and after
long consultation of the sagest with our counsel
lors, and dancing of the rest and other pastimes,
the time of supper came on. Then was the ban
queting chamber in the tiltyard furnished for the
entertainment of these strangers, to the which
place they were conveyed by the noblest persons
being then in the court, where they both supped
and banqueted. But to describe the dishes, the
subtleties, the many strange devices and order
in the same, I do both lack wit in my gross old
head, and cunning in my bowels to declare the
wonderful and curious imaginations in the same
invented and devised. Yet this ye shall under
stand : that although it was at Hampton Court
marveUous sumptuous, yet did this banquet far
exceed the same, as fine gold doth sUver in
I weight and value ; and for my part I must needs
confess, (which saw them both), that I never

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 201
saw the like, or read in any story or chronicle of \
any such feast. In the midst of this banquet, '
there was tourneying at the barriers (even in the
chamber), with lusty gentiemen in gorgeous
complete harness, on foot ; then was there the
like on horseback ; and after all this there was
the most goodUest disguising or interlude, made
in Latin and French, whose apparel was of such
exceeding riches, that it passeth my capacity to
expound. This done, then came in such a number of the
fair ladies and gentliswomen that bare any bruit
or fame of beauty in aU this realm, in the most •
richest apparel, and devised in divers goodly;
fashions that aU the cunningest taUors couldl
devise to shape or cut, to set forth their beauty,
gesture, and the goodly proportion of their bo
dies : who seemed to aU men more angelic than '
earthly [creatures] made of flesh and bone ; —
surely to me, simple soul, it seemed inestimable
to be described, and so I think it was to other
of a more higher judgmerit, — ^with whom these
gentlemen of France danced untU another mask
came in of rioble gentlemen, who danced arid
masked with these fair ladies and gentlewomen,
every man as his fantasy served [him]. This
done, and the maskers departed, there came in
-another mask of ladies so gorgeously apparelled
in costiy garments, that I dare not presume to

202 THE LIFE OF
take upon me to make thereof any declaration,
lest I should rather deface than beautify them,
therefore I leave it untouched. These lady
maskers took each of them a French gentleman
to dance and mask with them. Ye shall un
derstand that these lady maskers spake good
French, which delighted much these gentlemen,
to hear these ladies speak to them in their own
tongue. Thus was this night occupied and consumed
from five of the clock untU two or three after
midnight ; at which time it was convenient for
all estates to draw to their rest. And thus every
man departed whither they had most relief.
Then as nothing either health, wealth, or plea
sure, can always endure, so ended this triumph
ant banquet, the which in the morning seemed
to all the beholders but as a fantastical dream.
After all this solemn cheer, at a day appointed
they prepared them to return with bag and bag
gage. Then, as to the office of all honourable
persons doth appertain, [they] resorted in good
order to the court, to take their leave of the
king, and other noblemen, then being there : to
whom the king committed his princely com
mendations to the king their master, and thanked
them of their pains and travel, and after long
communication with the most honourable of the
embassy, he bad them adieu.

CARDINAL WOLSEY.

203

[They were] assigned by the councU to repair
to my Lord Cardinal for to receive the king's
most rioble reward, wherefore they repaired to
my lord, and taking of their leave, they received
every man the king's reward after this sort ; every
honourable person in estimation had most com
monly plate, to the value of three or four hun
dred pounds, and some more, and some less,
besides other great gifts received at the king's
hands before ; as rich gowns, horses, or goodly
geldings of great value and goodness ; and some
had weighty chains of fine gold, with divers other
gifts, which I cannot now call to my remem
brance ; but this I know, that the least of them
aU had a sum of crowns of gold : the worst page
among them had twenty crowns for his part :
and thus they (nobly rewarded), departed. And
my lord, after humble commendations had to the
French king, bad them adieu. And the next day
they conveyed aU their stuff and furniture unto
the seaside, accompanied with lusty young gen
tlemen of England : but what praise or com
mendation they made in their country at their
return, in good faith, I cannot teU you, for I never
heard any thing thereof.
Then began other matters to brew and take
place that occupied aU men's heads with divers
imaginations, whose stomachs were thercAvith full
fiUed without any perfect digestion. The long

204 THE LIFE OF
hid and secret love between the king and Mis
tress Anne Boleyn began to break out into every
man's ears. The matter was then by the king
disclosed to my Lord Cardinal ; whose persua
sion to the contrary, made to the king upon his
knees, could not effect : the king was so amo
rously affectionate, that will bare place, and high
discretion banished for the time^. My lord,
.provoked by the king to declare his wise opi
nion in this matter for the furtherance of his
desired affects, who thought it not meet for
him alone to wade too far, to give his hasty
judgment or advice in so weighty a matter,
desired of the king license to ask counsel of
men of ancient study, and of famous learning^,
both in the laws divine and civU. That ob
tained, he by his legatine authority sent out
his commission unto aU the bishops of this realm,
and for other that were either exactly learned
in any of the said laws, or else had in any esti
mation for their prudent counsel and judgment
in princely affairs of long experience.
Then assembled these prelates before my
Lord Cardinal at his place in Westminster, with

* ' Mademoiselle de Boulan a la fin y est venue, et I'a le Roy
logfe en fort beau logis, qu'il a fait bien accoustrer tout aupres;
du sien, et luy est la cour faicte ordinairement tons les jours plus
grosse que de long temps ne fut faicte a la Royne.'
Lettre de I'Evesque de' Bayonne. ¦

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 205
many other famous and notable clerTiS of both
the Universities (Oxford and Cambridge), and
also divers out of colleges and cathedral churches
of this realm, renowned and aUowed learned
and of witty discretion in the determination of
doubtful questions. Then was the matter of the
king's case debated, reasoned and argued ; con
sulting from day to day, and time to time ; that
it was to men learned a goodly hearing ; but in
conclusion, it seemed me, by the departing of
the ancient fathers of the laws, that they de
parted with one judgment contrary to the ex
pectation of the principal parties. I heard
the opinion of some of the most famous persons,
^.mong that sort, report, that the king's case was
so obscure and doubtful for any learned man to
discuss ; the points therein were so dark to be
credited that it was very hard to have any true
understanding or inteUigence. And therefore
they departedwithout any resolution or judgment.
Then in this assembly of bishops it was thought
most expedient that the king should first send
out his commissioners into aU the Universities
of Christendom, as \«eU here m England as in
foreign countries and regions, to have ariiong
"them his grace's case argued substantiaUy, and
to bring with them from thence the very de
finition of their opinions in the same, under the
seals of every several University. Thus was their

206 THE LIFE OF
determination for this time ; and thereupon
agreed, that commissioners were incontinent
appointed and sent forth about this matter into
several Universities, as some to Oxford, some
to Cambridge, some to Louvain, some to Paris,
some to Orleans, some to Bologna, and some
to Padua, and some to other. Although these
commissioners had the travaU, yet was the
charges the king's ; the which was no small
sums of money, and all went out of the king's
coffers into foreign regions. For as I heard it
reported of credible persons (as it seemed in
deed), that besides the great charges of the
commissioners, there was inestimable sums of
money given to the famous clerks to choke them,
and in especial to such as had the governance
and custody of their Universities' seals 9. Inso
much as they agreed, not only in opinions, but
also obtained of them the Universities' seals, (the
which obtained), they returned home again fur
nished for their purpose. At whose return
there was no small joy made of the principal

' It is a question of fact which has been warmly debated, whe
ther the suflBrages of the Universities in Henry's favour were pur
chased by money. It does not seem very necessary that we should
enter into this dispute. But any one who wishes so to do, may
consult Burnet's Hist, of the Reformation, Vol. iii. p. 401, Appen
dix. Harmer's Specimen of Errors, p. 7. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey,
p. 420. Poli Epistoloe, Vol. i. p. 238. a. d. 1744. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 207
parties. Insomuch as the commissioners were
not only ever after in great estimation, but also
most liberally advanced and rewarded, far be
yond their worthy deserts. Notwithstanding,
they prospered, and the matter went stiU for
ward, having then (as they thought), a sure
foundation to ground them upon.
These proceedings being once declared to my
Lord Cardinal, [he] sent again for all the bishops^
whom he made privy of the expedition of the
commissioners ; and for the very proof thereof
he showed them the opinions of the several
Universities in writing under the Universities
seals 1. These matters being thus brought to
pass, they went again to consultation how these
matters should be ordered to the purpose. It
was then thought good and concluded, by the
advice of them all, that the king should (to avoid
aU ambiguities), send unto the pope a legation
with the instruments, declaring the opinions of

' Eight of these determinations soon after were printed in one
volume, with a long Discourse in support of the judgments con
tained in them, under the following title : " The Determinations
of the moste famous and moste excellent Universities of Italy
and Fraunce, that it is so unlefuU for a man to marry his Brother's
Wyfe, that the Pope hath no power to dispence thejrewith : im
printed by Thomas Berthelet the viith day of Novembre, 1531."
They were also published in Latin : in which language they are
exhibited by Bishop Burnet in his Hist, of the Reformation, Vol.
i. book ii. No. 34. Records. W.

g08 THE LIFE OF
-the Universities under their seals ; to the which
it was thought good that aU these prelates in
this assembly should join with the king in this
legation, making intercession and suit to the
pope for advice and judgment in this great and
weighty matter ; and if the pope would not
directly consent to the same request, that then
the ambassadors should farther require of him
a commission to be directed (under lead 2), to
establish a court judicial in England, (** ****
*****) directed to my Lord Cardinal, and unto
the Cardinal Campeggio, (who was then Bishop
of Bath), although he was a stranger, which
[bishopric] the king gave him at such time as he
was the pope's ambassador here in England), to
hear and determine according to the just judg
ment of their conscience. The which after long
and great suit, they obtained of the pope his
comriiission. This done and achieved, they
made return into England, making report unto
the king of their expedition, trusting that his
grace's pleasure and purpose should now be
presently brought to pass, considering the estate
of the judges, who were the Cardinal of England
and Campeggio, being both his highness's sub
jects in effect.

" i. e. the Bulla or Papal seal. The passage marked with
contains three words which I could not decipher.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 209
Long was the desire, and greater was the
hope on aU sides, expecting the coming of the
legation and commission from Rome, yet at length
it came. And after the arrival of the Legate
Campeggio with his solemn commission in
England, he being sore vexed with the gout,
was constrained by force thereof to make a long
journey or ever he came to London ; who should
have been most solemnly received at Black-
heath, g,nd so with great triumph conveyed to
London ; but his glory was such, that he would
in nowise be entertained with any such pomp or
vainglory, who suddenly came by water in a
wherry to his own house without Temple Bar,
caUed then Bath Place, which was fornished for
him with all manner of stuff and implements of
my lord's provision ; where he continued and
lodged during his abode here in England.
Then after some deliberation, his commission
understood, read, and perceived it was by the
councU determined, that the king, and the queen
his wife, should be lodged at BrideweU. And
that in the Black Friars a certain place should
be appointed where as the king and the queen
might most conveniently repair to the court,
there to be erected and kept for the disputation
and determination of the king's case, where as
these two legates sat in judgment as notable

210 THE LIFE OF
judges; before whom the king and the queen were
duly cited and summoned to appear. Which
was the strangest and newest sight and device
that ever was read or heard in any history or
chronicle in any region ; that a king and a queen
[should] be convented and constrained by pro
cess compeUatory to appear in any court as
common persons, within their own realm or
dominiori, to abide the judgment and decrees of
their own subjects, having the royal diadem
and prerogative thereof. [Ts it not a world to
consider the desire of wUful princes, when they
fully be bent and inclined to fulfil their volup
tuous appetites, against the which no reasonable
persuasions wiU suffice ; little or nothing weigh
ing or regarding the dangerous sequel that doth
ensue as weU to themselves as to their realm
and subjects. J And above aU things, there is no
one thing that causeth them to be more wUful
than carnal desire and voluptuous affection of
foolish love. The experience is plain, in this
case both manifest and evident, for what sur
mised inventions have been invented, what laws
have been enacted, what noble and ancient mo-
riasteries overthrown and defaced, what diver
sities of religious opinions have risen, what exe
cutions have been committed, how many famous
and notable clerks have suffered death, what

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 21 1
charitable foundations were perverted from the
relief of the poor, unto profane uses, and what
alterations of good and wholesome ancient laws
and customs hath been caused by will and wilful
desu-e of the prince, almost to the subversion and
dissolution of this noble realm. All men may
understand what hath chanced to this region ;
the proof thereof hath taught all us English
men a common experience, the more is the pity,
and is to all good men very lamentable to be
considered. If eyes be not blind men may see,
if ears be not stopped they may hear, and if pity
be not exiled they may lament the sequel of
this pernicious and inordinate carnal love. The
plague whereof is not ceased (although this love
lasted but a while), which our Lord quench ;
and take from us his indignation ! Quia pecavi-
mus cum patfibus nostris, et injuste egimus, ^c.
Ye shaU^understand, as I said before, that
there was a court erected in the Black Friars
in London, where these two cardinals sat for
judges. Now wilLI set you out the manner and
order of the court there. First, there was a
coiirt placed with tables, benches, and bars, like
a consistory, a place judicial (for the judges to
sit on). There was also a cloth of estate under
the which sat the king ; and the queen sat some
distance beneath the king : under the judges'
feet sat the officers of the court. The chief
p 2

212 THE LIFE OF
scribe there was Dr. Stephens 3, (who was after
Bishop of Winchester); the apparitor was one
Cooke, most commonly called Cooke of Win
chester. Then sat there within the said court,
directly before the king and the judges, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Doctor Warham,
and all. the other bishops. Then at both the
ends, with a bar made for them, the counseUors
on both sides. The doctors for the king were
Doctor Sampson, that was after Bishop of Chi
chester, and Doctor BeU, who after was Bishop
of Worcester, with divers other. The proctors
on the king's part were Doctor Peter, who was
after made the king's chief secretary, and Doc
tor Tregonell, and divers other.
. Now on the other side stood the counsel for
the queen, Doctor Fisher, Bishop of Rochester,

3 Doctor ^Stephen Gardiner, afterwards Bishop of Winchester,
at this time in great estimation with Wolsey. In letters and other
documents of this period he is often called Doctor Stevens. Mr.
Grainger in the third vol. of Bishop Burnet's Hist, of the Reforma
tion, p. 385, Appendix, intimates that this was a colloquial vulga
rism ; " vulgarly^ as Stephen Gardiner was Mr. Stevyns, in Wol
sey's Letter." But it is questionable, I think, whether this is the
true account of that name. The bishop himself, in his Declaration
of his Articles against George Joye, a. d. 1546, fol. 3. b. of the
4to edition, thus speaks of it, " a booke, wherein he wrote, how
Doctor Stevens (by whiche name I was then called) had deceyved
him." In Doctor Barnes' account, of his examination before the bishops
at Westminster, he calls Gardiner " Doctor Stephen then secre
tary."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 213
and Doctor Standish, some time a Grey Friar,
and then Bishop of St. Asaph in Wales, two
notable clerks in divinity, and in especial the
Bishop of Rochester, a very godly man and a
devout person, who after suffered death at Tower
Hill ; the which was greatly lamented through
all the foreign Universities of Christendom.
There was also another ancient doctor, called,
as I remember. Doctor Ridley, a very small
person in stature, but surely a great and an ex
cellent clerk in divinity.
The court being thus furnished and ordered,
the judges commanded the crier to proclaim
silence ; then was the judges' commission, which
they had of the pope, published and read openly
before all the audience there assembled. That
done, the crier called the king, by the name of
" King Henry of England, come into the court, '
&c." With that the king answered and said,
" Here, my lords !" Then he called also the
' queen, by the name of " Katherine Queen of
England, come into the court, &c. ;" who made
no answer to the same, but rose up incontinent
out of her chair, where as she sat, and because
she could not come directly to the king for the
distance which severed them, she took pain to
go about unto the king, kneeUng down at his feet
in the sight of all th6 court and assembly, to

214 THE LIFE OF
whom she said4 in effect, in broken English, as
foUoweth :
" Sir," quoth she, " I beseech you for all the
loves that hath been between us, and for the
love of God, let' me have justice and right, take
of me some pity and compassion, for I am a
poor woman and a stranger born out of your
dominion, I have here no assured friend, and

* The reader may consult Burnet's Hist, of the Reformation,
Vol. iii. p. 46—48. The bishop affirms positively that the king
did not appear personally, but by proxy ; and that the queen with
drew 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." It is
easy to contradict the coniident affirmation of the historian upon
the authority of a document published by himself in his Records,
i. 78. It is a letter from the king to his agents, where he says :
" At which time both we and the queen appeared in person, and
they minding to proceed further in the cause, the queen would no
longer make her abode to hear what the judges would fully des-,
cern, but incontinently departed out of the court; wherefore she
was thrice preconnisate, and called eftsoons to return and appear ;
which she refusing to do, was denounced by the judges contumax,
and a citation decerned for her appearance on Friday." Which is
corroborated also by Fox's Acts, p. 958. Indeed the testimony
for the personal appearance of the king before the cardinals is sur
prisingly powerful ; even though we do not go beyond Cavendish,
and the other ordinary historians. But in addition to these. Dr.
Wordsworth has produced the authority of William Thomas,
Clerk of the Council in the reign of King Edward VI, a well in
formed writer; who, in a professed Apology for Henry VIII,
extant in MS. in the Lambeth and some other libraries, speaking
of this affair affirms, " that the Cardinal (Campeggio) caused the
king as a private party in person to appear before him, and the
Lady Katharine both." P. 31.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 215
much less indiffererit courisel ; I flee to you as
to the head of justice within this realm. Alas!
Sir, wherein have I offended you, or what occa
sion of displeasure? Have I designed against
your wUl and pleasure; intending (as I per
ceive) to put me from you ? I take God and
aU the world to witness, that I have been to you
a true humble and obedient wife, ever conform
able to your wUl and pleasure, that never said
or did any thing to the contrary thereof, being
always weU pleased and contented with all things
wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whe
ther it were in Uttie or much, I never grudged
in word or countenance, or showed a visage
or spark of discontentation. I loved all those
whom ye loved only for your sake, whether I had
cause or no ; and whether they were my friends
or my enemies. This twenty years I have been
your true wife or rnore, arid by me ye have had
divers chUdren, although it hath pleased God to
caU them out of this world, which hath been no
default in me.
" And when ye had me at the first, I take
God to be my judge, I was a true maid without
touch of man ; and whether it be true or no, I
put it to your conscience. If there be any just
cause by the law that ye can aUege against me,
either of dishonesty or any other impediment to
banish and put me from you, I am weU content

216 THE LIFE OF
to depart to my great shame and dishonour;
and if there be none, then here I most lowly
beseech you let me reriiain in my former estate,
and receive justice at your' hands. The Idng
your father was in the time of his reign of such
estimation thorough the world for his excellent
wisdom, that he was accounted and caUed of all
men the second Solomon ; and my father Fer
dinand, King of Spain, who was esteemed to
be one of the wittiest princes that reigned in
Spain, many years biefore, were both wise and
exceUerit kings in wisdom and princely beha
viour. It is not therefore to be doubted, but
that they elected and gathered as wise counsel
lors about them as to their high discretions was
thought meet. Also, as me seemeth, there was
in those days as wise, as well learned men, and
men of as good judgment as be at this present
in both realms, who thought then the marriage
between you and me good and lawful. There
fore it is a wonder to hear what new inventions
are now invented against me, that never intended
but honesty. And cause me to stand to the
order and judgment of this new court, wherein
ye may do me much wrong, if ye intend any
cruelty ; for ye may condemn me for lack of suf
ficient answer, having no indifferent counsel, but
such as be assigned me, with whose wisdom and
learning I am not acquainted. Ye must consider

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 217
that they cannot be indifferent counseUors for
my part which be your subjects, and taken out
of your own councU before, wherein they be
made privy, and dare not, for your displeasure,
disobey your wiU and intent, being once made
privy thereto. Therefore I most humbly require
you, in the way of charity, and for the love of
God, who is the just judge, to spare me the
extremity of this new court, untU I may be ad
vertised what way and order my friends in Spain
wUl advise me to take. And if ye wUl not ex
tend to me so much indifferent favour, your
pleasure then be fulfiUed, and to God I commit
my cause 5 !"
And with that she rose up, making a low
courtesy to the king, and so departed from
thence. [Many] supposed that she would have
resorted again to her former place ; but she
took her way straight out of the house, leaning
(as she was wont always to do) upon the arm
of her General Receiver, called Master Griffith.
And the king being advertised of her departure,

s HaU has given a different report of this speech of the queen's,
which he says was made in French, and translated by him, as well
as he covdd, from notes taken by Cardinal Campeggio's secretary.
In his version she accuses Wolsey with being the first mover of
her troubles, and reproaches him, in bitter terms, of pride and
voluptuousness : such harsh language could hardly deserve ,the
praise ' modeste tamen cam locutumfuisse,' given by Campeggio.

218 THE LIFE OF
commanded the crier to caU her again, who
called her by the name of " Katherine Queen of
England, come into the court, &c." With that
quoth Master Griffith, " Madam, ye be called
again." " On, on," quoth she, " it maketh no
matter, for it is no indifferent court for me,
therefore I wUl not tarry. Go on your ways."
And thus she departed out of that court, without
any farther answer at that time, or at any other,
nor would never appear at any other court
after. The king perceiving that she was departed
in such sort, caUing to his grace's memory all
her lament words that she had pronounced be
fore him and aU the audience, said thus in effect :
" For as much," quoth he, " as the queen is gone,
I wiU, in her absence, declare unto you all my
lords here presently assembled, she hath been
to me as true, as obedient, and as conformable
a wife as I could in my fantasy wish or desire.
She hath aU the virtuous qualities that ought to
be in a woman of her dignity, or in any other of
baser estate. Surely she is also a noble woman
bom, if nothing were in her, but only her con
ditions wiU weU declare the same." With that
quoth my Lord Carduial, " Sir, I most humbly
beseech your highness to declare me before all
this audience, whether I have been the chief

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 219
inventor e or first mover of this matter unto your
majesty ; for I am greatly suspected of aU men
herein." « My Lord Cardinal," quoth the king,
" I can well excuse you herein. Marfy (quoth
he), ye have been rather against me in attempt
ing or setting forth thereof And to put you all
out of doubt, I wiU declare unto you the special
cause that moved me hereunto ; it was a certain
scrupulosity that pricked my conscience upon
divers words that were spoken at a certain time
by the Bishop of Bayonne, the French King's
Ambassador ', who had been here long upon the
debating for the conclusion of a marriage to be
concluded between the princess our daughter
Mary, and the Duke of Orleans, the French
king's second son.
" And upon the resolution and determination
thereof, he desired respite to advertise the king
his master thereof, whether our daughter Mary
should be legitimate, in respect of the marriage
which was sometime between the queen here,
and my brother the late Prince Arthur. These
words were so conceived within my scrupulous

" See Neve's Animadversions on Phillips's Life of Cardinal Pole,
p. 62.
7 Nothing of this kind is to be found in the journal of this em
bassy, or in the letters of the bishop and his companions, which
have been preserved, and many of which have been published by
Le Grand, Histoire du Divorce de Henri VIII.

220 THE LIFE OF
conscience, that it bred a doubt within my
breast, which doubt pricked, vexed, and trou
bled so my mind, and so disquieted me, that 'I
was in great doubt of God's indignation ; which
(as seemed me), appeared- right weU ; much the
rather for that he hath not sent me any issue
male ; for all such issue male as I have re
ceived of the queen died incontinent after
they were born ; so that I doubt the punish
ment of God in that behalf Thus being trou
bled in waves of a scrupulous conscience, and
partly in despair of any issue male by her, it
drave me at last to consider the estate of this
realm, and the danger it stood in for lack of
issue male to succeed me in this imperial dig
nity. I thought it good therefore in relief of
the weighty burden of scrupulous conscience,
and the quiet estate of this noble realm, to
attempt the law thereiuj and whether I might
take another wife in case that my first copula
tion with this gentlewoman were not lawful ;
which I intend not for any carnal concupiscence,
ne for any displeasure or mislike of the queen's
person or age, with whom I could be as well
content to continue during my life, if our mar
riage may stand with God's laws, as with any
woman alive ; in which point consisteth aU this
doubt that we go now about to try by the learned
wisdom and judgment of you our prelates and

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 221
pastors of this realm here asseiribled for that
purpose ; to whose conscience and judgment I
have committed the charge according to the
which (God wUling), we wUl be right weU con
tented to submit ourself, to obey the same for
our part. Wherein after I once perceived my
conscience wounded with the doubtfol case
herein, I moved first this matter in confession
to you, my Lord of Lincoln », my ghostly father.
And for as much as then yourself were in some
doubt to give me counsel, moved me to ask

s " In a Manuscript Life of Sir Thomas More, written not many
years after Longland's death, this account is given. ' I have heard
Dr. Draycot, that was his (Longland's) chaplain and chancellor,
say, that he once told the bishop what rumour ran upon him in
that matter ; and desired to know of him the very truth. Who
answered, that in very deed he did not break the matter after that
sort, as is said : but the king brake the matter to him first ; and
never left urging him until he had won him to give his consent.
Of which his doings he did forethink himself, and repented after
ward.' MSS. Coll. Eman. Cantab." Baker's Notes on Burnet's
Hist, of the Reformation : in Burnet, Vol. iii. p. 400, Appendix.
The same Life is among the MSS. in the Lambeth Library, No.
827, (see fol. 12), and, I have reason to think, was composed about
the year 1556, and by Nicolas Harpsfield. From these concurrent
testimonies it should appear, that the charge which has been often
urged against Wolsey, that it was through his intrigues that Long-
land first suggested his scruples to the king, is unfounded. W.
Wolsey was at the time loudly proclaimed as the instigator of
the divorce, and though he denied it upon some occasions, he ad
mitted it on others ; but Cardinal Pole asserts that it was first
su^ested by certain divines whom Anne Boleyn sent to him for
that purpose. It is remarkable that he says this when writing to
the king, and would surely not have ventured to say so if he had
not had good grounds for the assertion.

222 THE LIFE OF
farther counsel of all you my lords ; wherein I
moved you first my Lord of Canterbury, axing
your license, (for as much [as] you were pur
metropolitan) to put this matter in question ;
and so I did of all you my lords, to the which ye
have all granted by writing under aU your seals,
the which I have here to be showed." " That
is truth if it please your highness," quoth the
Bishop of Canterbury, " I doubt not but all my
brethren here present wUl affirm the same."
" No, Sir, not I," quoth the Bishop of Roches
ter, " ye have not my consent thereto." " No !
ha' the !" quoth the king, " look here upon this,
is not this your hand and seal ?" and showed
him the instrument with seals. " No forsooth.
Sire," quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " it is
not my hand nor se^l !" To that quoth the king
to my Lord of Canterbury, " Sir, how say ye,
is it not his hand and seal ?" " Yes, Sir," quoth
my Lord of Canterbury. " That is not so,"
quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " for indeed you
were in hand with me to have both my hand and
seal, as other of my lords had already done;
but then I said to you, that I would never con
sent to no such act, for it were much a^inst my
conscience ; nor my hand and seal should never
be seen at any such instrument, God wUling,
with much more matter touphing the same com
munication between us." " You say truth,"

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 223
quoth the Bishop of Canterbury, " such words
ye said unto me ; but at the last ye were fully
persuaded that I should for you subscribe your
name, and put to a seal myself, and ye would
aUow the same." " AU which words and mat
ter," quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " under
your correction my lord, . and supportation of
this noble audience, there is no thing more
untrue." " WeU, weU," quoth the king, " it
shaU make no matter ; we wUl not stand with
you in argument herein, for you are but one
man." And with that the court was adjourned
untU the next day of this session.
The next court day the cardinals sat there
again, at which time the counsel on both sides
were there present. The king's counsel al
leged the marriage not good from the begin
ning, because of the carnal knowledge committed
between' Prince Arthur her first husband, the
king's brother, and her. This matter being
very sore touched and maintained by the king's
counsel ; and the contrary defended by such as
took upon them to be on that other part with
the good queen : and to prove the same carnal
copulation they alleged many coloured reasons
and simiUtudes of truth. It was answered again
negatively on the other side, by which it seemed
that aU their former aUegations [were] very
doubtfol to beaked, so that it xyas said that no

/^ '

224 THE LIFE OF
man could know the truth. "Yes," quoth the
Bishop of Rochester, "Ego nosco veritatem,
I know the truth." " How know you the truth ?"
quoth my Lord Cardinal. " Forsooth, my lord,"
quoth he, " Ego sum professor veritatis, I know
that God is truth itself, nor he never spake
but truth ; who saith, quos Deus conjunxit, homo
non separet. And forasmuch as this marriage
was made and joined by God to a good intent,
I say that I know the truth ; the which cannot
be broken or loosed by the power of man upon
no feigned occasion." " So much doth all faithful
men know," quoth my Lord Qardinal, " as well
as you. Yet this reason is not sufficient in this
case ; for the king's counsel doth allege divers
presumptions, to prove the marriage not good
at the beginning, ergo, say they, it was not joined
by God at the beginning, and therefore it is not
lawful ; for God ordaineth nor joineth nothing
without a just order. Therefore it is not to be
doubted but that these presumptions must be
true, as it plainly appeareth ; and nothing can
be more true in case these allegations cannot be
avoided ; therefore to say that the matrimony
was joined of God, ye must prove it farther than
by that text which ye have alleged for your
matter : for ye must first avoid the presump
tions." " Then," quoth one Doctor Ridley, " it
is a shame and a great dishonogjMo this honour-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 225
able presence, that any such presumptions should
beaUeged in this open court, which be to all
good and honest men most detestable to be
rehearsed." " WTiat," quoth my Lord Cardinal,
" Domine Doctor, magis reverenter." " No, no,
my lord," quoth he, "there belongeth no re
verence to be given to these abominable presump
tions ; for an unreverent tale would be unre-
verently answered." And there they left, and
proceeded no farther at that time.
Thus this court passed from session to session,
and day to day, in so much that a certain day
the king sent for my lord at the breaking up one
day of the court to come to him into BrideweU.
And to accomplish his commandment he went
unto him, and being there with him in commu
nication in his grace's privy chamber from eleven
untU twelve of the clock and past at noon, my
lord came out and departed from the king and
took his barge at the Black Friars, and so went
to his house at Westminster. The Bishop of
Carlisle being with him in his barge said unto
him, (wiping the sweat from his face), " Sir,"
quoth he, " it is a very hot day." " Yea," quoth
my Lord Cardinal, " if ye had been as weU
chafed as I have been within this hour, ye would
say it were very hot." And as soon as he came
home to his house at Westminster, he went
incontinent to his naked bed, where he had not
Q.

226 THE LIFE OF
lain fully the space of two hours, but that my
Lord of WUtshire came to speak with him of a
message from the king. My lord, having under
standing of his coming, caused him to be brought
unto his bed's side ; and he being there, showed
him the king's pleasure was, that he should in
continent (accompanied with the other cardinal)
repair unto the queen at BrideweU, into her
chamber, to persuade her by their wisdoms,
advising her to surrender the whole matter unto
the king's hands by her own wiU and consent ;
which should be much better to her honour than
to stand to the trial of law and to be condemned,
which would seem much to her slander and
defamation. To folfil the king's pleasure, my
lord [said] he was ready, and would prepare
him to go thither out of hand, saying farther to
my Lord of Wiltshire, " Ye and other my lords
of the councU, which be near unto the king, are
not a little to blame and misadvised to put any
such fantasies into his head, whereby ye are the
causes of great trouble to all the realm ; and at
length get you but small thanks either of God
or of the world," with many other vehement
words and sentences that were like to ensue of
this matter, which words caused my Lord of
WUtshire to water his eyes, kneeling all this
whUe by my lord's bedside, and in conclusion
departed. And then my lord rose up, and

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 227
made him ready, taking his baige, and went
straight to Bath Place to the other cardinal ;
and so went together unto BrideweU, directiy
to the queen's lodging : and they, being in her
chamber of presence, showed to the gentleman
usher that they came to speak with the queen's
grace. The gentleman usher advertised the
queen thereof incontinent. With that she came
out of her privy chamber with a skein of white
thread about her neck, into the chamber of pre
sence, where the cardinals were giving of aittendr
ance upon her coming. At whose coming quoth
she, " Alack, my lords, I am very sorry to cause
you to attend upon me ; what is your pleasure
with me ?" " If it please you," quoth my Lord
Cardinal, , " to go into your privy chamber, we
wUl show you the cause of our coming." " My
lord," quoth she, " if you have any thing to say,
speak it openly before all these folks ; for I fear
nothing that ye can say or aUege against me,
but that I would aU the world should both hear
and see it ; therefore I pray you speak your
minds openly." Then began my lord to speak
to her in Latin. " Nay, good my lord," quoth
she, " speak to me in English I beseech you ;
although I understand Latin." "Forsooth then,"
quoth my lord, " Madam, if it please your grace,
we come both to know your muid* how ye be
disposed to do in this matter between the king
q2

228 THE LIFE OF
and you, and alfio to declare secretly our opi
nions and our counsel unto you, which we have
intended of very zeal and obedience that we
bear to your grace." " My lords, I thank you
then," quoth she, " of your good wUls ; but to
make answer to your request I cannot so sud
denly, for I was set among my maidens at work,
thinking full little of any such matter, wherein
there needeth a longer deUberation, and a better
head than mine, to make answer to so noble wise
men as ye be ; I had need of good counsel in
this case, which toucheth me so near ; and for
any counsel or friendship that I, can find in
England, [they] are nothing to my purpose or
profit. Think you, I pray you, my lords, wUl
any EngUshmen counsel or be friendly unto me
against the king's pleasure, they being his sub^
jects ? Nay forsooth, my lords ! and for my
counsel in whom I do intend to put my trust
be not here ; they be in Spain, in my native
country. Alas, my lords ! I am a poor woman
lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently
to answer such approved wise men as ye be
both, in so weighty a matter. I pray you to
extend your good and indifferent minds in your
authority unto me, for I am a simple woman,
destitute and barren of friendship and counsel
here in a foreign region : and as for your coun-
, sel I wiU not refuse but be glad to hear."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 229
And with that she took my lord by the hand
and led him into her privy chamber, with the
other cardinal ; where they were in long commu
nication : we, in the other chamber, might some
time hear the queen speak very loud, but what
it was we could not understand. The commu
nication ended, the cardinals departed and went
directly to the king, making to him relation of
their talk with the queen ; and after resorted
home to their houses to supper.
Thus went this strange case forward from
court-day to court-day, until it came to the
judgment, so that every man expected the judg
ment to be given upon the next court-day^. At
which day the king came thither, and sat within
a gallery against the door of the same that
looked unto the judges where they sat, whom he
might both see and hear speak, to hear what
judgment they would give in his suit ; at which
time all their proceedings were first openly read
in Latin. And that done, the king's learned
counsel at the bar called fast for judgment.
With that, quoth Cardinal Campe^gi9,^«^-LA,wil.l.
give no judgment herein until I have made rela-'

9 July, 1529.
' This determination of Campeggio was in consequence of secret
instructions from the pope (unknown to Wolsey), at the instance
of the emperor, who had prevailed uponthe pontiff to adjourn the
court and remove the cause to Rome.

230 THE LIFE OF
tion unto the pope of all our proceedings, whose
counsel and commandment in tbis high case I
wiU observe. The case is too high and notable,
known throughout the world, for us to give any
hasty judgment, considering the highness of the
persons and the doubtful aUegations ; and also
whose commissioners we be, under whose au-
thoritv we sit here. It were therefore reason,
that we should make our chief head [of] counsel
in the same, before we proceed to judgment
definitive. I come not so far to please any
man, for fear, meed, or favour, be he king or
any other potentate. I have no such respect to
the persons that I wUl offend my conscience.
I will not for favour or displeasure of any high
estate or mighty prince do that thing that should
be against the law of God. I am an old man,
both sick and impotent, looking daily for death.
What should it then avail me to put my soul in
the danger of God's displeasure, to my utter
damnation, for the favour of any prince or high
estate in tbis world? My comirig and being
here is only to see justice ministered according
to ray conscience, as I thought thereby the mat
ter either good or bad. And forasmuch as I do
understand, and having perceivance by the aUe
gations and negations in this matter laid for both
the parties, that the truth in this case is very
doubtful to be known, and also that the party

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 231
defendant wiU make no answer thereunto, [but]
doth rather appeal from us, supposing that we
be not indifferent, considering the king's high
dignity and authority within this his own realm
which he hath over his own subjects ; and we
being his subjects, and having our livings and
dignities in the same, she thinketh that we can
not minister true and indifferent justice for fear
of his displeasure. Therefore, to avoid all these
ambiguities and obscure doubts, I intend not
to damn my soul for no prince or potentate
ialive. I wUl therefore, God wiUing, wade no
farther in this matter, unless I have the just
opinion and judgment, with the assent of the
pope, and such other of his counsel as hath
more experience and learning in such doubtful
laws than I have. Wherefore I will adjourn
this court for this time, according to the order
of the court in Rome, from whence this court
and jurisdiction is derived. And if we should
go forther than our commission doth warrant
us, it were folly and vain, and much to our
slander and blame ; and [we] might be ac
counted for the same breakers of the order
of the higher court from whence we have (as
I said) our original authorities." With that
the court was dissolved, and no more pleas
holden.

232 THE LIFE OF
With that stepped forth the Duke of Suffolk 2
from the king, and by his commandment spake

' These proceedings led the way to the next great step in the
progress of the Reformation, the renunciation of the pope's au
thority, and the establishment of the regal supremacy. The
following account, from an unpublished treatise, of the manner
in which these questions were first brought to the king's mind
(whether authentic or not) may not be unacceptable to my readers.
"Now unto that you say, that because Pope Clement would
not dispense with his second matrimonie, his ihajestie extirped out
of England the papal authoritie, a thinge of most auncient and
godly reverence as you take it, I aunsweare that after the kinges
highness had so appeared in person before the Cardinal Campegio,
one of the princes of his realm, named the Duke of Suffolk, a great
wise man, and of more familiaritie with the kinge than any other
person, asked his majestic, ' how this matter might come to passe,
that a prince in his own realme should so humble himself before
the feet of a vile, strange, vitious priest,' (for Campegio there in
England demeaned himself in very deed most carnally  -).
Whereunto the king aunswered, "he could not tell; but only that
it seemed unto him, the spiritual men ought to judge spiritual
matters ; and yet as you saye (said the king) me seemeth there
should be somewhat in it, and I would right gladly understand,
why and how, were it not that I would be loth to appeare more
curious than other princes." " Why, sir (sayd the duke), yoiur
majestic may cause the matter to be discussed secretly by your
learned men, without any rumour at all." " Very well (sayd the
kinge), and so it shaU be." And thus inspured of God, called he
diverse of his trusty and great doctours unto him ; charging them
distinctly to examine, what lawe of God should direct so carnal a
man as Campegio, under the name of spiritual, to judge a king in
his owne realme. According unto whose commandment, these
doctors resorting together unto an appointed place, disputed this
matter large et stride, as the case required. And as the blacke
by the white is knowen, so by conferring the oppositions together,
it appeared that the evangelical lawe varied much from the canon
lawes in this pointe. So that in effect, because two contraries

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 233
these words, with a stout and an hault counte
nance, " It was never merry in England," (quoth
he), " whUst we had cardinals among us :" which
words were set forth both with such a vehement
countenance, that all men marvelled what he
intended ; to whom no man made answer. Then
the duke spake again in great despight. To the
which words my Lord Cardinal, perceiving his
vehemency, soberly made answer and said, " Sir,
of all men within this realm, ye have least cause
to dispraise or be offended with cardinals : for
if I, simple cardinal, had not been, you should
have had at this present no head upon your
shoulders, wherein you should have a tongue to
make any such report in despight of us, who
intend you no manner of displeasure ; nor have
we given you any occasion with such despight
to be revenged with your hault words. I would
ye knew it, my lord, that I and my brother here

cannot stand in uno subjecto, eodem casu et tempore, they were con
strained to recurre unto the kinges majesties pleasure, to knowe
whether of tliese two lawes should be preferred : who smiling at
the ignorance of so fonde a question aunsweared, that the Gospell
of Christ ought to be the absolute rule unto all others ; command
ing them therefore to foUowe the same, without regard either to
the civile, canon, or whatsoever other lawe. And here began the
quicke : for these doctours had no sooner taken the Gospel for
their absolute rule, but they found this popish authoritie over the
kinges and princes of this earth to be usurped." William Thomas's
Apology for King Henry the Eighth, written A, n. 1547. p. 34.
Lambeth Library. MSS. No. 464. W.

234 THE LIFE OF
intendeth the king and his realm as much honour,
wealth, and quietness, as you or any other, of
what estate or degree soever he be, within this
realm ; and would as gladly accomplish his
lawful desire as the poorest subject he hath.
But, my lord, I pray you, show me what ye would
do if ye were the king's commissioner in a fo
reign region, having a weighty matter to treat
upon : and the conclusion being doubtful thereof,
would ye not advertise the king's majesty or
ever ye went through with the same ? Yes,
yes, my lord, I doubt not. Therefore I would
ye should banish your hasty malice and despight
out of your heart, and consider that we be but
commissioners for a time, and can, ne may not,
by virtue of our commission proceed to judg
ment, without the knowledge and consent of the
chief head of our authority, and having his con
sent to the same ; which is the pope. Therefore
we do no less ne otherwise than our warrant
wiU bear us ; and if any man wiU be offended
with us therefore, he is an unwise man. Where
fore my lord, hold your peace, and pacify your
self, and frame your tongue like a man of honour
and of wisdom, and not to speak so quickly or
reproachfully by your friends ; for ye know best
what friendship^ ye have received at my hands,
3 The history and occasion of this great obligation of the Duke
of Suffolk to the cardinal, who plainly intimates that but for his

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 235
the which I yet never revealed to no person
alive before now, neither to my glory, ne to your
dishonour." And therewith the duke gave over
the matter without any words to reply, and so
departed and foUowed after the king, who Was
gone into Bridewell at the beginning of the
duke's first words.
This matter continued long thus, and my Lord
Cardinal was in displeasure with the king, for
that the matter in his suit took no better suc
cess, the fault whereof was ascribed much to
my lord, notwithstanding my lord excused him
always by his commission, which gave him no
farther authority to proceed in judgment, with
out knowledge of the pope, who reserved the
same to himself.
At the last they were advertised by their post
that the pope would take deliberation in respect
of judgment untU his courts were opened, which
should not be before Bartholomew tide next.

interposition the duke must have lost his life, does not appear to
be known to the historians. See Fiddes's Life of Wolsey. p. 454. W.
A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1755 (Dr. Pegge),
who appears to have paid much attention to the Cardinal Wolsey's
history, suggests that Wolsey was the means of abating the anger
of Henry at the marriage of Suffolk with his sister Mary Queen
of France, which might have been made a treasonable offence. A
letter from Mary to Wolsey, dated March 22, 1515, after her
marriage with Suffolk, which is still extant in the Cotton Collec
tion, gives some probability to this conjecture.

236 THE LIFE OF
The king considering the time to be very long
or the matter should be determined, thought it
good to send a new embassy to the pope, to
persuade him to show such honourable favour
unto his grace, that the matter might be sooner
ended than it was likely to be, or else at the
next court in Rome, to rule the matter over, ac
cording to the king's request.
To this embassy was appointed Doctor Ste
phens*, then secretary, that after was made
Bishop of Winchester. Who went thither, and
there tarried until the latter end of summer, as
ye shaU hear after.
The king commanded the queen to be re
moved, out of the court, and sent to another
place ; and his highness rode in his progress,
with Mistress Anne Boleyn in his company, all
the grece season s.
It was so that the Cardinal Campeggio made
suit to be discharged, that he might return again
to Rome. And it chanced that the secretary,
who was the king's ambassador to the pope, was
returned home from Rome ; whereupon it was
determined that the Cardinal Campeggio should
resort to the king at Grafton in Northampton-

¦• i. e. Dr. Stephen Gardiner.
5 i. e. The season of hunting, when the hart is in grease or full
season. Dr. Wordsworth's edition and the more recent manu
scripts read — ' all that season.'

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 237
shire, and that my lord Cardinal should accom
pany him thither, where Campeggio should take
his leave of the king. And so they took their
journey thitherward from the Moor, and came to
Grafton 6 upon the Sunday in the morning, before
whose coming there rose in the court divers
opinions, that the king would not speak with
my Lord Cardinal ; and thereupon were laid
many great wagers.
These two prelates being come to the gates
of the court, where they alighted from their
horses, supposing that they should have been
received by the head officers of the house as
they were wont to be ; yet for as much as Car
dinal Campeggio was but a stranger in effect,
the said officers received them, and conveyed
him to his lodging within the court, which was
prepared for him only. And after my lord had
brought him thus to his lodging, he left him
there and departed, supposing to have gone
directly likewise to his chamber, as he was
accustomed to do. And by the way as he was
going, it was told him that he had no lodging
appointed for him in the court. And being

^ The following additional particulars of the route are found in
more recent MSS. " And were lodged the first night at a towne in
Bedfordshire, called Leighton Bussarde, in the parsonage there,
being Mr. Doctor Chambers's benefice, the kings phisitian. And
from thence they rode the next day.'"

238 THE LIFE OF
therewitii astonied. Sir Heriry Norris, Groom
of the Stole [to] the king, came unto him, (but
whether it was by the king's commandment or
no I know not), and most humbly offered him
his chamber for the time, ufttil another might
somewhere be provided for him : " For, Sir, I
assure you," quoth he, " here is very littie room
in this house, scantly sufficient for the king;
therefore I beseech your grace to accept mine
for the season." Whom my lord thanked for his
gentle offer, and went straight to his chamber,
where as my lord shifted his riding apparel, and
being thus in his chamber, divers noble persons
and gentlemen, being his loving fi-iends, came to
visit him and to welcome him to the court, by
whom my lord was advertised of all things touch
ing the king's displeasure towards him ; which
did him no small pleasure ; and caused him to be
the more readUy provided of sufficient excuses
for his defence.
Then was my lord advertised by Master
Norris, that he should prepare himself to give
attendance in the chamber of presence against
the king's coming thither, who was disposed
there to talk with him, and with the other car
dinal, who came into my lord's chamber, and
they together went into the said chamber of
presence, where the lords of the council stood
in a row in order along the chamber. My lord

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 239
putting off his cap to every of them most gently,
and so did they no less to him : at which time
the chamber was so furnished with noblemen,
gentlemen, and other worthy persons, that only
expected the meeting, and the countenance of
the king and him, and what entertainment the
king made him.
Then immediately after came the king into
the chamber, and standing there under the cloth
of estate, my lord kneeled down before him,
who took my lord by the hand, and so he did
the other cardinal. Then he took my lord up
by both arms and caused him to stand up, whom
the king, with as amiable a cheer as ever he did,
called him aside, and led him by the hand to a
great window, where he talked with him, and
caused him to be covered.
Then, to behold the countenance of those
that had made their wagers to the contrary, it
would have made you to smile ; and thus were
they aU deceived, as well worthy for their pre
sumption. The king was in long and earnest
communication with him, in so much as I heard
the king say : " How can that be : is not this
your own hand?" and plucked out from his
bosom a letter or writing, arid showed him the
same ; and as I perceived that it was answered
so by my lord that the king had no more to say
in that matter ; but said to hirh : " My lord, go

240 THE LIFE OF
to your dinner, and aU my lords here will keep
you company ; and after dinner I wiU resort to
you again, and then we wiU commune further
with you in this matter; and so departed the
king, and dined that same day with Mrs. Anne
Boleyn, in her chamber, who kept there an
estate more like a queen than a simple maid.
Then was a table set up in the chamber of
presence for my lord, and other lords of the
councU, where they all dined together ; and sit
ting thus at dinner communing of divers matters.
Quoth my lord, " It were well done if the king
would send his chaplains and bishops to their
cures and benefices." " Yea marry," quoth my
Lord of Norfolk, " and so it were for you too."
" I could be contented therewith, very well,"
quoth my lord, " if it^ere the king's pleasure
to grant me license, with his favour, to go to my
benefice of Winchester." " Nay," quoth my Lord
of Norfolk, " to your benefice jof York, where
consisteth your greatest honour and charge."
" Even as it shall please the king," quoth my
lord, and so feU into other communications. For
the lords were very loth to have him planted so
near the king as to be at Winchester?. Im-

' The king had listened to their suggestions against the cardinal,
and they felt assured of success ; they are represented by an eye
witness, as boasting openly that they would humble him and all
churchmen, and spoil them of their wealth : " La faintaisie de ces

CARblNAL M'OLSEY. 241
mediately after dinner they fell in secret talk
until the waiters had dined.
And as I heard it reported by them that
waited upon the king at dinner, that Mistress
Anne Boleyn was much offended with the king,
as far as she durst, that he so gently enter
tained my lord, saying, as she sat with the king
at dinner, in communication of him, " Sir,"
quoth she, " is it not a marveUous thing to con
sider what debt and danger the cardinal ihath
brought you in with aU your subjects ?" " How
so, sweetheart?" quoth the king. "Forsooth,"
quoth she, " there is not a man within all your
realm, worth five pounds, but he hath indebted
you unto him;" (meaning by a loan that the
king had but late of his subjects). " Well,
weU," quoth the king, " as for that there is in
him no blame ; for I know that matter better
than you, or any other." " Nay, Sir," quoth
she, " besides aU that, what things hath he
wrought within this realm to your great slander
and dishonour? There is never a nobleman
within this realm that if he had done but half so
much as he hath done, but he were weU worthy
to lose his head. If my Lord of Norfolk, my

seigneurs est, que lui mort ou mine ils d^ferrent incontiiient icy
I'estat de I'eglise, et prendront tons leurs biens; qu'il seroit ja
besoing que je le misse en chiffre, car ils le crient en plaine table."
L'Evesque de Bayonne, Le, Grand, Tom. iii. p. 374.
R

242 THE LIFE OF
Lord of Suffolk, my lord my father, or any other
noble person within your realm had done much
less than he, but they should have lost their
heads or this." " Why, then I perceive," quoth
the king, "ye are not the cardinal's friend?"
" Forsooth, Sir," then quoth she, " I have no
cause, nor any other that loveth your grace,
no more have your grace, if ye consider well
his doings." At this time the waiters had taken
up the table, and so they ended their communi
cation. Now ye may perceive the old malice
beginning to break, out, and newly to kindle the
brand that after proved to a great fire, which
was as much procured by his secret enemies,
[of whom] I touched something before, as of
herself After aU this communication, the dinner thus
ended, the king rose up and went incontinent
into the chamber of presence, where as my lord,
and other of the lords were attending his coming,
he called my lord into the great window, and
talked with him there a while very secretly.
And at the last, the king took my lord by the
hand and led him into his privy chamberj sitting
there in consultation with him all alone without
any other of the lords of the councU, untU it was
night ; the which blanked his enemies very sore,
and made them to stir the coals ; being in doubt
what this matter would grow unto, having now

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 243
none other refoge to trust to but Mistiess Anne,
in whom ^-as all tiieir whole and firm trust and
affiance, without whom they doubted aU their
enterprise but frustrate and void.
Now was I fain, being warned that my lord
had no lodging in the court, to ride into the
country to pro\-ide for my lord a lodging ; so
that I provided a lodging for him at a house
of Master Empson's caUed Euston, three mUes
from Grafton, whither my lord came by torch
light, it was so late or the king and he departed.
At whose departing the king commanded him
to resort again early in the morning to the intent
they might finish their talk which they had then
begun and not concluded.
After their departing my lord came to the
said house at Euston to his lodging, where he
had to supper with him divers of liis friends of
the court j and sitting at supper, in came to
him Doctor Stephens, the secretary, late am
bassador imto Rome; but to what intent he
came I know not ; howbeit my lord took it, that
he came to dissemble a certain obedience and
love towards him, or else to espy his behaviour
and to hear his communication at supper. Not
withstanding my lord bade him welcome, and
commanded him to sit down at the table to
supper ; mth whom my lord had this communi-
R 2

244 THE LIFE OF
cation, under this manrier. " Master Secretary,"
quoth my lord, " ye be welcome home out of
Italy ; when came ye from Rome ?" " Forsooth,"
quoth he, " I came home almost a month ago*"
" And where," quoth my lord, " have you been
ever since ?" " Forsooth," quoth he, " foUowing
the court this progress." "Then have ye hunted,
and had good game and pastime," quoth my lord.
" Forsooth, sir," quoth he, " and so I have, I
thank the king's majesty." " What good grey
hounds have ye ?" quoth my lord. " I have
some, sir," quoth he. And thus in hunting, and
like disports, passed they aU their communica
tion at supper ; and after supper my lord and he
talked secretly together, till it was midnight or
they departed.
The next morning my lord rose early and rode
straight to the court ; at whose coming the king
was ready to ride, wUling my lord to resort to
the councU with the lords in his absence, and
said he could not tarry with him, commanding
him to return with Cardinal Campeggio, who had
taken his leave of the king. Whereupon my
lord was constrained to take his leave also of the
king, with whom the king departed amiably in
the sight of all men. The kirig's sudden depart
ing in the morning was by the special labour
of Mistress Anne, who rode with him, only to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 245
lead him about, because he should not return
untU the cardinals were gone, the which departed
after dinner, returning again towards the Moor a.
The king rode that morning to view a ground
for a new park, which is caUed at this day Hart-
well Park, where Mistress Anne had made pro
vision for the king's dinner, fearing his return
or the cardinals were gone.
Then rode my lord and the other cardinal after
dinner on their way homeward, and so came to
the monastery of St. Alban's (whereof he himself
was commendatory), and there lay one whole
day ; and the next day they rode to the Moor ;
and from thence the Cardinal Campegio took
his journey towards Rome, with the king's re
ward ; what it was I am uncertain. NeVerthe-

' " Le pis de son mal est, que Mademoiselle de Boulen a faict
promettre k son Amy qu'il ne I'escoutera jamais parler ; car elle
pense bien qu'il ne le pourroit garder d'eu avoir pitiS."
Lettre de I'Eveque de Bayonne ap. Le Grand, Tom. iii. p. 375.
The manor of The Moor was situate in the parish of Rickmans-
worth, in Hertfordshire ; the site is stUl called Moor Park. It was
purchased and the house built by George Neville, Archbishop of
York. Edward the fourth had promised to make that prelate a
visit there, and while he was making suitable preparations to re
ceive, his royal master he was sent for to Windsor, and arrested fbr
high treason. The king seized at the Moor all his rich stuff and
plate to the value of 20,000?. keeping the archbishop prisoner at
Calais and Hammes. Stowe, A°. 1472. There was a survey of
the house in 1568, by which it appears the mansion was of brick,
the chief buildings forming a square court, which was entered by a
gate-house with towers ; the whole was moated. It was then in a
dilapidated state.

246 THE LIFE OF
less, after his departure, the king was informed
that he carried with him great treasm'es of my
lord's, (conveyed in great tuns) notable sums of
gold and sUver to Rome, whither they surmised
my lord would secretly convey himself out of
this realm. In so much that a post was sent
speedUy after the cardinal to search him ; whom
they overtook at Calais ^, where he was stayed
until search was made ; there was not so much
money found as he received of the king's reward,
and so he was dismissed and went his way.
After Cardinal Campeggio was thus departed
and gone, Michaelmas Term * drew near, against
the which my lord returned unto his house at
Westminster ; and when the Term began, he
went to the hall in such like sort and gesture as
he was wont most commonly to do, and sat in
the Chancery, being ChanceUor. After which
day he never sat there more. The next day he
tarried at home, expectuag the coming of the
Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, [who] came not
that day ; but the next day they came thither
unto him ; to whom they declared how the king's

s " Le Cardinal Campege est encores a Douvres, et a ceste heure
(je) viens d'entendre que, soubz couleur de faute de Navires, on ne
le veult laisser passer, sans y prendre avis, de paeur qu'il n'emporte
le tlir^sor du Card, d' Yore."
Lettre de I'Evesque de Bayonne, apud Le Grand Hist, du Divorce.
' The Term then began the ninth of October.

itched 6y IHASMs,Ju.n'.
THE CAJaBITAJL SHEEKENBERS MDE CaEHEAT SJEAJ. TO THE JmKEM OIF S CJTKFOXB: &: MJSTUHLKHiHB AT.T. JUS (&0OUS TO THE :EirG- ,
J^rom u M.S. tn rJi^ (}i/iectum of .Francts Douci Est/f ES^.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 247
pleasure was that he should surrender and de
liver up the great seal into their hands, and to
depart simplily unto Asher^, a house situate
nigh Hampton Court, belonging to the Bishop
rick of Winchester. My lord understanding
their message, demanded of them what commis
sion they had to give him any such command
ment ? who answered him a.gain, that they were
sufficient commissioners in that behalf, having
the, king's commandment by his mouth so to do.
" Yet," quoth he, " that is not sufficient for me,
without farther commandment of the kirig's plea
sure ; for the great seal of England was delivered
me by the king's own person, to enjoy duifii^
my life, with the ministration of the offlfc^'and
high room of chancellorship of England : for'iti:^
surety whereof, I have the king's letters patent
to show." Which matter was greatly debated
between the dukes and him with many stout
words betweeri them ; whose words arid checks
he took in patience for the time : in so much
that the dukes were fain to depart again without
their purpose at that present; and returned
again unto Windsor to the king : and what re
port they made I carinot teU ; howbeit, the next
day they came again from the king, bringing
with them the king's letters. After the receipt
and reading of the same by my lord, which was
' Esher.

248 THE LIFE OF
done with much reverence, he delivered unto
them the great seals, contented to obey the king's
high commandment ; and seeing that the king's
pleasure was to take his house, with the con
tents, was well pleased simply to depart to Asher,
taking nothing but only some provision for his
house. And after long talk between the dukes and
him, they departed, with the great seal of Eng
land, to Windsor, unto the king. Then went
my Lord Cardinal and called aU officers in every
office in his house before him, to take account
jp|',|i-ll such stuff as they had in charge \ And
.jn his gallery there was set divers tables, where-
llpon .ft great number of rich stuffs of silk, in
whole pieces, of all colours, as velvet, satin, da
mask, caffa, taffeta, grograine, sarcenet, and of
other not in my remembrance ; also there lay
a thousand pieces of fine hoUand cloth, whereof
as I heard him say afterward, there was five
hundred pieces thereof, conveyed both from the
king and him s.

3 The Eighteenth November, 1529.
4 This inventory is preserved among the Harleian MSS. No. 599.
5 These words follow in the more recent MSS. " Yet there was
laide upon every table, bokes, made in manner of inventories, re
porting the number and contents of the same. And even so there
were bokes made in manner of inventories of all things here after
rehearsed, wherein he toke great paines to set all things in order
against the king's comming."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 249
Furthermore there was also all the walls of the
gaUery hanged with cloth of gold, and tissue of
divers makings, and cloth of silver likewise on
both the sides ; and rich cloths of baudkin e, of
divers colours. There also hung the richest
suits of copes of his own provision, (which he
caused to be made for his colleges of Oxford and
Ipswich), that ever I saw in England. Then
had he two chambers adjoining to the gallery,
the one caUed the gilt chamber, and the other'
called, most commonly, the council chamber,
wherein were set in each two broad and long
tables, upon tressels, whereupon was set such a
number of plate of all sorts, as were almost in
credible. In the gilt chamber was set out upon
the tables nothing but all gilt plate ; and a cup
board standing under a window, was garnished'
aU whoUy with plate of clean gold, whereof some
was set with pearl and rich stones. And in the
council chamber was set all white plate and :
parcel gilt ; and under the tables, in both the
chambers, were set baskets with old plate, which
was not esteemed but for broken plate and old.

" Baudkyn, cloth made partly of silk and partly of gold. Derived
from Baldacca, an Oriental name for Babylon, being brought from
thence. — " Baldekinum — pannus omnium ditissimus, cujus, utpote
stamen ex filio auri, subtegmen ex serico texitur, plumario opere
intertextus." Ducange Glossar. in voce. It sometimes is used for
a canopy or ctoth of state.

250 THE LIFE OF
not worthy to be occupied, and books containing
the value and weight of every parcel laid by
them ready to be seen ; and so was also books
set by aU manner of stuff, containing the con
tents of every thing. Thus every thing being
brought into good order and furnished, he gave
the charge of the delivery thereof unto the king,
to every officer within his office, of such stuff as
they had before in charge, by indenture of every
parcel ; for the order of his house was such, as
that every officer was charged by indenture with
all such parcels as belonged to their office.
Then all things being ordered as it is before
rehearsed, my lord prepared him to depart by
water. And before his departing, he com
manded Sir WiUiam GaScoigne, his treasurer,
to see these things before remembered delivered
safely to the king at his repair [thither]. That
done, the said Sir WUliam said unto my lord,
" Sir, I am sorry for your grace, for I under
stand ye shall go straightway to the Tower."
" Is this the good comfort and counsel," quoth
my lord, " that ye can give your master in ad
versity ? It hath been always your natural in
clination to be very Ught of credit ; and much
more lighter in reporting of fa.ls^ new(s. I would
ye should know. Sir William, and all other such
blasphemers, that it is nothing more false than
that, for I never (thanks be to God), deserved

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 251
by rio ways to come there under any arrest, al
though it hath pleased the king to take my house
ready furnished for his pleasure at this time. I
would aU the world knew, and so I confess, to
have nothing, either riches, honour, or dignity,
that hath not grown of him and by him ; there
fore it is my very duty to surrender the samelo
him again as his very own, with all my heart, or
else I were an unkirid servant. Therefore go
your ways, and give good attendance unto your
charge, that nothing be embezzled." And there
withal he made him ready to depart, with all his
gentlemen and yeomen, which was no small
number, and took his barge at his privy stairs,
and so went by water unto Putney, -w^here ®U his
horses waited his coaning. And at the taking
of his barge there was no less than a thousand
boats foil of men and women of the city of
London, waffeting up and down in Thames^ ex
pecting my lord's departing, supposing that he
should have gone directly from thence to the
Tower, whereat they rejoiced, and I dare be
bold to say. that ;the most part never received
damage at his hands.
O wavering and new fangled multitude ! Is
it not a wonder to consider the inconstant mu
tability of this uncertain world! The common
people always desiring alterations and novelties
of things for the strangeness of the case ; which

252 THE LIFE OF
after turneth them to small profit and com
modity. For if the sequel of this matter be well
considered and digested, ye shall understand
that they had small cause to triumph at his faU.
What hath succeeded all wise men doth know,
and the common sort of them hath felt. There
fore to grudge or wonder at it, surely were but
folly ; to study a redress, I see not how it can
I be holpen, for the inclination and natural dis-
j position of Englishmen is, and hath always been,
i to desire alteration of officers, which hath been
thoroughly fed with long continuance in their
rooms with sufficient riches and possessions ;
and they being put out, then cometh another
hungry and a lean officer in his place, that biteth
nearer the bone than the old. So the people be
ever pilled and polled with hungry dogs, through
their own desire of change of new officers, nature
hath so wrought in the people, that it will not
be redressed. Wherefore I cannot see but al
ways men in authority be disdained with the
common sort of men ; and such most of all, that
justly ministereth equity to all men indifferently.
For where they please some one which receiveth
the benefit of the law at [their] hands according
to justice, there doth they in likewise displease
the contrary party, who supposeth to sustain
great wrong, where they have equity and right.
Thus all good justices be always in contempt

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 253
with some for executing of indifferency. And
yet such ministers must be, for if there should
be no ministers of justice the world should run
fuU of error and abomination, and no good
order kept, ne quietness among the people.
There is no good man but he wiU commend such
justices as dealeth uprightly in their rooms, and
rejoice at their continuance and not at their faU ;
and whether this be true or no, I put it to the
judgment of all discreet persons. Now let us
leave, and begin again where we left.
When he was with all his train arrived and
landed at Putney, he took his mule, and every
man his horse. And setting forth, not past the
length of a pair of garden butts, he espied a
man come riding empost down the hill, in Putney
town, demanding of his footmen who they
thought it should be? And they answered
again and said, that they supposed it should be
Sir Harry Norris. And by arid bye he came to
my lord and saluted him, and said " that the
king's majesty had him commended to his grace,
and willed him in any wise to be of good cheer,
for he was as much in his highness' favour as
ever he was, and so shall be." And in token
thereof,, he delivered him a ring of gold, with a
rich stone, which ring he knew very weU, for it
was always the privy token between the king
and him whensoever the king would have any

254 THE LIFE OF
special matter dispatched at his hands. And
said furthermore, " that theking commanded him
to be of good cheei", and take no thought, for he
should not lack. And although the king hath
dealt with you unkindly as ye suppose, he saith
that it is for no displeasure that he beareth you,
but only to satisfy more the minds of some
(which he knoweth be not your friends), than for
any indignation : and also ye know right well,
that he is able to recompense you \*^ith twice as
much as your goods amounteth unto ; and all
this he bade me, that I should show you, there
fore, sir, take patience. And for my part, I
trust to see you in better estate than ever ye
were." But when he heard Master Norris re
hearse aU the good and comfortable words of
the king, he quickly lighted from off his mule,
aU a,lone, as though he had been the youngest
person amongst us, and incontinent kneeled
down in the dirt upon both his knees, holding
up his hands for joy. Master Norris perceiving
him so quickly from his mule upon the ground,
mused, and was astonied. And therewith he
alighted also, and kneeled by him, embracing
him in his arms, and asked him how he did, call
ing upon him to credit his message. " Master
Norris," quoth he, " when I consider your com
fortable and joyful news, I can do no less than
to rejoice, for the sudden joy surmounted my

CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^55
memory, having no respect neither to the place
or time, but thought it my very bounden duty
to render thanks to God my maker, and to the
king my sovereign lord and master, who hath
sent me such comfort in the very place where I
received the same."
And talking with Master Norris upon his knees
in the mire, he would have pulled off his under
cap of velvet, but he could not undo the knot
under his chin ; wherefore with violence he rent
the laces and puUed it from his head, and so
kneeled bare headed. And that done, he co
vered again his head, and arose, and would have
mounted his mule, but he could not mount again
with such agUity as he lighted before, where his
footmen had as much ado to set him in his sad
dle as they could have. Then rode he forth
up the hiU into the town, talking with Master
Norris. And when he came upon Putney Heath,
Master Norris took his leave and would have
departed. Then quoth my lord unto him,
"Gentle Norris, if I were lord of a realm, the
one half thereof were insufficient a reward to
give you for your pains, and good comfortable
news. But, good Master Norris, consider with
me, that I have nothing left me but my clothes
on my back. Therefore I desire you to take
this smaU reward of my hands ;" the which was
a little chain of gold, made like a bottie chain.

256 THE LIFE OF
with a cross of gold hanging thereat, wherein
was a piece of the Holy Cross, which he wore
continually about his neck next his skin ; and
said furthermore, " I assure you. Master Norris,
that when I was in prosperity, although it seem
but smaU in value, yet I would not gladly have
departed with it for the value of a thousand
pounds. Therefore I beseech you to take it in
gree, and wear it about your neck for my sake,
and as often as ye shall happen to look upon it,
have me in remembrance to the king's majesty,
as opportunity shaU serve you, unto whose
Highness and clemency, I desire you to have
[me] most lowly commended ; for whose cha
ritable disposition towards me, I can do nothing
but only minister my prayer unto God for the
preservation of his royal estate, long to reign in
honour, health, and quiet life. I am .his obe
dient subject, vassal, and poor chaplain, and do
so intend, God wUling, to be during my life, ac
counting that of myself I am of no estimation
nor of no substance, but only by him and of him,
whom, I love better than myself, and have justly
and truly served, to the best of my gross wit."
And with that he took Master Norris by the
hand and bade him farewell. And being gone
but a smaU distance, he returned, and caUed
Master Norris again, and when. he was returned,
he said unto him: "I am , sorry," quoth he.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 257

((

that I have no condign token to send to the
king. But if ye would at this my request pre
sent the king with this poor Fool, I trust his
highness would accept him weU, for surely for a
nobleman's pleasure he is worth a thousand
pounds 7." So Master Norris took the Fool with
him ; with whom my lord was fain to send six
of [his] tail yeomen, to conduct arid convey the
Fool to the court; for the poor Fool took on
and fired so in such a rage wheri he saw that he
must needs depart from my lord. Yet notwith
standing they conveyed him with Master Norris
to the court, where the king received him most
gladly. c;.-::
After the departure of Master Norris with his
token to the king, my lord rode straight to Asher,
a house appertaining to the Bishoprick of Win
chester, situate within the county of Surrey, not
far from Hampton Court, where my lord and
his famUy continued the space of three or four
weeks, without beds, sheets, table cloths, cups

7 The name of Cardinal Wolsey's fool is said to have been
" Master Williams, otherwise called Patch." An inquiry into
this very curious feature in the domestic manners of the great in
ancient times could notfail to be very interesting. Mr. Douce has
glanced at the subject in bis Illustrations of Shakspeare; and gave
his friends reason to hope for a more enlarged inquiry, at a future
period : it would afford me real pleasure to hear that his intentions
were not finally abandoned.

258 THE LIFE OF
and dishes to eat our meat, or to lie in. How
beit, there was good provision of aU kind of
Victuals, and of drink, both beer and wine,
whereof there was sufficient and plenty. My
lord was of necessity compelled, to borrow of the
Bishop of CarUsle, and of Sir Thomas ArundeU,
both dishes to eat his meat in, and plate to drink
in, and also linen cloths to occupy. And thus
continued he in this strange estate untU the feast
of AU-hallown tide was past s.
It chanced me upon AU-hallown day to come
there into the Great Chamber at Asher, in the
morning, to give mine attendance, where I found
Master CromweU leaning in the great window,
with a Prirher in his hand, saying of our Lady
mattins ; which had been since a very strange

« The Bishop of Bayonne, who paid him a visit of commisera
tion at this period, gives the following affecting picture of his dis-
teess, in a most interesting letter which will be found in the Ap
pendix ; he says : " J'ay estg voir le Cardinal en ses ennuis, oil
que j'y ay trouv^ le plus grand example de fortune qu on ne s^au-
roit voir, il m'a remonstr^ son cas en la plus mauvaise rhetorique
que je vip jamais, car cueur et parolle luyfaUoient enfierement; il
a bien pleure et prie que le Roy et Madame voulsissent avoir pitie
du luy :— mais il m'a a la fin laiss^ sans me povoir dire austre chose
qui vallist mieux que son visage; qui est bien dechue de la moiti^
de juste pris. Et vous promets, Monseigneur, que sa fortune est
telle que ses ennemis, encores qu'ils soyent Anglois> ne se scauroy-
ent garder d'en avoir piti^, ce nonobstant ne le laisseront de le
poursuivre jusques au bout." He represents him as wilUng to give
up every thing, even the shirt from his back, and to live in a
hermitage if the king would desist from his displeasure.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 259
sight 9. He prayed not more earnestiy than the
tears distiUed from his eyes. Whom I bade

* Dr. Wordsworth's edition and the later manuscripts read:
" which had bine a strange sight in him afore ;" but this can hardly
be right ? The splendour of Cromwell's subsequent fortunes, their
tragical close, and the prominent figure he makes in the events of
this reign, which are among the most important of modern history,
gives this circumstantial account a great degree of interest. His
father was a blacksmith at Putney, the son was first an agent to
an English factory at Antwerp, then a trooper in the Duke of
Bourbon's arniy, and was present at the sacking of Rome. It
appears that he assisted Mr. Russell (afterwards Earl of Bedford),
in making his escape from the French at Bologna, and it is pro
bably to this circumstance that he owed the friendly oflBces of that
gentleman at a subsequent period. After passing some time in the
counting-house of a Venetian merchant, he returned to England
and studied the law. Wolsey, it appears, first met with him in
France, and soon made him his principal agent in the dissolution
of monasteries and the foundation of his colleges. It' was a trust
which he discharged with ability, and is said to have enriched
himself; yet he here complains that he " never had any promption
at the cardinal's hands to the increase of his living." And he tells
the cardinal in his troubles, that " the soliciting his cause hath
been very chargeable to him, and he cannot sustain it any lonj-er
without other respect than he hath had heretofore." He says, " I
am a thousahd pounds worse than I was when your troubles began."
And after announcing the king's determination to dissolve the car
dinal's colleges, he says : " I intreat your grace to be content, and
let your prince execute his pleasure."
Cardinal Pole relates that he openly professed to him his Ma-
chiavelian principles ; he had learned, be said, " that vice and Vir
tue were but names, fit indeed to amuse the leisure of the learned
in their colleges, but pernicious to the man who seeks to rise in
the courts of princes. The great art of the politician was, in his
judgment, to penetrate through the disguise which sovereigns are
accustomed to throw over their real inclinations, and to devise the
most specious expedients by. which they may gratify their appe
tites without appearing to outrage morality or religion." He
s 2

260 THE LIFE OF
good morrow. And with that I perceived the
tears upon his cheeks. To whom I said, " Why,
Master CromweU, what meaneth aU this your
sorrow ? Is my lord in any danger, for whom ye
lament thus ? or is it for any loss that ye have
sustained by any misadventure ?"
" Nay, nay," quoth he, " it is my unhappy
adventure, which am like to lose aU that I have
travaUed for all the days of my life, for doing
of my master true and diligent service." " Why,
sir," quoth I, " I trust ye be too wise, to commit
any thing by my lord's commandment, otherwise
than ye might do of right, whereof ye have any
cause to doubt of loss of your goods." " Well,
well," quoth he, " I cannot tell ; but aU things
I see before mine eyes, is as it is taken ; and
this I understand right well, that I am in dis
dain with most men for my master's sake ; and
surely without just cause. Howbeit, an Ul name
once gotten wUl not lightly be put away. I
never had any promotion by my lord to the in
crease of my living. And thus much wUl I say
to you, that I intend, God wUling, this after
noon, when my lord hath dined, to ride to Lon
don, ajud so to the court, where I wUl either make

shared largely in the public odium in which the cardinal was held,
and Pole, who was then in London, says that the people loudly
clamoured for his punishment.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 26l
or mar i, or I come again. I will put myself in
prease 2, to see what any man is able to lay

' The day after it appears Cromwell was at court, and sought
an audience from the king, which was granted him; Cardinal
Pole, who had the account from Cromwell himself and others who
were present, relates that upon this occasion Cromwell suggested
to the king a mode of overcoming the difficulty of the pope's oppo
sition to the divorce, by taking the authority into his own hands,
and declaring himself head of the church within his own realm.
The king gave ear to the proposition, and was so well pleased with
Cromwell, that he thanked him, and admitted him to the dignity
of a privy counsellor. This was the first step ; to carry into effect
this project his assistance was deemed necessary, and he arrived
at length to the highest honours of the state ; but at last became
the victim of his own Machiavelian intrigues, and the vindictive
spirit of the monarch. It has been doubted whether Cromwell
deserves the credit of attachment to his fallen master to the whole
extent which some writers have supposed. It is evident, from the
very interesting conversation above, that he despaired of ever
seeing Wolsey reinstated in his fortunes, and he was too subtle
in his policy to have endeavoured to swim against the stream of
court favour. That the cardinal suspected his fidelity to his
cause is evident from fragments of two letters pubhshed by
Fiddes among Mr. Master's collections, in one of which Cromwell
says : " I am informed your grace hath me in some diffidence, as
if I did dissemble with you, or procure any thing contrary to your
profit and honour. I much muse that your grace should so think
or suspect it secretly, considering the pains I have taken, &c.
Wherefore 1 beseech you to speak without faining, if you have
such conceit, that I may clear myself; I reckoned that your grace
would have written plainly unto me of such thing, rather than se
cretly to have misrepresented me. But I shall bear your grace
no less good will. Let God judge between us ! Truly your grace
in some things overshooteth yourself; there is regard to be given to
what things you utter, and to whom."
The cardinal, in answer to this, protests : " that he suspects him

" In prease, i. e. the press or crowd.

262 THE LIFE OF
to my charge of untruth or misdemeanour.
" Marry, sir," quoth I, " in so doing, in my
conceit, ye shall do very weU and wisely, be
seeching God to be your guide, and send you
good luck, even as I would myself." And with
that I was called into the closet, to see and
prepare all things ready for my lord, who in
tended that day to say mass there himself; and
so I did.
And then my lord came thither with his
chaplain, one Doctor Marshall, saying first his
mattins, and heard two masses on his knees.
And then after he was confessed; he himself said
mass. And when he had finished mass, and all
his divine service, returned into his chamber,
where he dined among divers of his doctors,
where as Master Cromwell dined also ; and

not, and that may appear by his deeds, so that he useth no man's
help nor counsel but his. Complaint indeed hath been made to him,
that Cromwell hath not done him so good offices as he might con
cerning his colleges and archbishoprick ; but he hath not believed
them ; yet he hath asked of their coVnmon friends how Cromwell
hath behaved himself towards him; and to his great comfort hath
found him faithful. Wherefore he beseecheth him, with weeping
tears, to continue stedfast, and give no credit to the false sugges
tions of such as would sow variance between them, and so leave
him destitute of all help."
But the testimony of Cavendish in his favour is conclusive • he
says that, by reason of " his honest behaviour in his master's cause
he grew into such estimation in every man's opinion, that he was
esteemed to be the most faithfuUest servant to his master of all
other, wherein he was of all men greatly commended."

CARDINAL AVOLSEY. 263
sitting at dinner, it chanced that my lord com
mended the true and faithful service of his gen
tiemen and yeomen. Whereupon Master Crom
weU took an occasion to say to my lord, that in
conscience he ought to consider their truth and
loyal service that they did him, in this his pre
sent necessity, which never forsaketh him in all
his trouble.
" It shall be well done, therefore," said he,
" for your grace to caU before you all these
your most worthy gentlemen and right honest
yeomen, and let them understand, that ye right
weU consider their patience; truth, and faithfol-
ness ; and then give them your commendation,
with good words and thanks, the which shall be
to them great courage to sustain your mishap
in patient misery, and to spend their life and
substance in your service."
" Alas, Thomas," quoth my lord unto him,
" ye know I have nothing to give them, and
words without deeds be not often weU taken.
For if I had but as I have had of late, I would
depart with them so frankly as they should be
well content : but nothing hath no savour ; and
I am ashamed, and also sorry that I am not able
to requite their faithful service. And although
I have cause to rejoice, considering the fidelity
I perceive in the number of my servants, who
will not depart from me in my miserable estate.

264 THE LIFE OF
but be as dUigent, obedient, and serviceable
about me as they were in my great triumphant
glory, yet do I lament again the want of sub
stance to distribute among them." " Why, sir,"
quoth Master Cromwell, " have ye not here a
number of chaplains, to whom ye have departed
very liberally with spiritual promotions, in so
much as some may dispend, by your grace's
preferment, a thousand marks by the year, and
some five hundred marks, and some more, and
some less ; ye have no one chaplain within aU
your house, or belonging unto you, but he may
dispend at the least well (by your procurement
and preferment) three hundred marks yearly,
who had aU the profit and advantage at your
hands, and other your servants none at all ; and
yet hath your poor servants taken much more
pains for you in one day than all your idle chap
lains hath done in a year. Therefore if they wUl
not freely and frankly consider your liberality,
and depart with you of the same goods gotten in
your service, now in your great indigence and
necessity, it is pity that they live ; and all the
world will have them in indignation and hatred,
for their abominable ingratitude to their master
and lord."
" I think no less, Thomas," quoth my lord,
" wherefore, [I pray you,] cause all my servants
to be caUed and to assemble without, in my

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 265
great chamber, after dinner, and see them stand
in order, and I wUl declare unto them my mind,
according to your advice." After that the board's
end was taken up, Master Cromwell came to me
and said, " Heard you not, what my Lord said
even now ?" " Yes, sir," quoth I, " that I did."
" Well, then," quoth he, " assemble all my lord's
servants up into the great chamber ;" and so I
did, and when they were aU there assembled, I
assigned aU the gentlemen to stand on the right
side of the chamber, and the yeomen on the left
side. And at the last my lord came thither,
appareled in a white rochet upon a violet gown
, of cloth like a bishop's, who went straight into
the great window. Standing there a whUe, and
his chaplains about him, beholding the number
of his servants divided in two parts,, he could
not speak unto them for tenderness of his heart ;
the flood of tears that distUled from his eyes
declared no less : the which perceived by his
servants, caused the fountains of water to gush
out of their faithful hearts down their cheeks,
in such abundance as it would cause a cruel
heart to lament. At the last, after he had
turned his face to the waU, and wiped his eyes
with his handkerchief, he spake to them after
this sort in effect : " Most faithfol gentlemen
and true hearted yeomen, I do not only lament
£to see] your persons present about me, but I do

266 THE LIFE OF
lament my negligent ingratitude towards you all
on my behalf, in whom hath been a great default,
that in my prosperity [I] have not done for you
so much as I might have done, either in word
or deed, which was then in my power to do :
but then I knew not my jewels and special trea
sures that I had of you my faithful servants in
my house ; but now approved experience hath
taught me, and with the eyes of my discretion,
which before were hid, I do perceive well the
same. There was never thing that repented me
more that ever I did than doth the remembrande
of my oblivious negligence and ungentleness,
that I have not promoted or preferred you to con
dign rooms and preferments, according to your
demerits. Howbeit, it is not unknown to you
all, that I was not so weU furnished of temporal
advancements, as I was of spiritual preferments.
And if I should have promoted you to any of
the king's offices and rooms, then should I have
incurred the indignation of the kiag's servants,
who would not much let to report in every place
behind my back, that there could no office or
room in the king's gift escape the cardinal and
his servants, and thus should I incur the obloquy
and slander before the whole world. But now
it is come to this pass, that it hath pleased
the king to take all that ever I have into his
possession, so that I have nothing left me but

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 267
my bare clothes upon my back, the which be
but simple in comparison to those that ye have
seen me have or this : howbeit, if they may do
you any good or pleasure, I would not stick to
divide them among you, yea, and the skin of
my back, if it might countervaU any thing in
value among you. But, good gentlemen and
yeomen, my trusty and faithful servarits, of
whom no prince hath the like, in my opinion,
I most heartUy require you to take with me
some patience a little whUe, for I doubt not
but that the king, considering the offence sug
gested against me by my mortal enemies, to be
of small effect, wiU shortly, I doubt not, restore
me again to my living, so that I shaU be more
able to divide some part thereof yearly among
you, whereof ye shall be well assured. For the
surplusage of my revenues, whatsoever shall re
main at the determination of my accompts, shall
be, God wiUing, distributed among you. For 1 1
wUl never hereafter esteem the goods and riches/
of this uncertain world but as a vain thing, moref
than shaU be sufficient for the maintenance of
mine estate and dignity, that God hath or shaU
call me unto in this world during my life. And
if the king do not thus shortly restore me, then
wiU I see you bestowed according to your own
requests, and write for you, either to the king,
or to any other noble person within this realm.

268 THE LIFE OF
to retain you into service ; for I doubt not but
the king, or any noble man, or worthy gentle
man of this realm, wUl credit my letter in your
commendation. Therefore, in the mean time,
mine advice is, that ye repair home to your
wives, such as have any : and such among you
as hath none, to take this time to visit your
parents and friends in the country. There is
none of you aU, but once in a year would re
quire licence to visit your wives and other of
your friends : take this time, I pray you, in re
spect thereof, and at your return I wUl not
refuse you, if I should beg with you. I consider
that the service of my house hath been such,
and of such sort, that ye be not meet or apt to
serve [any] man under the degree of a king ;
therefore I would wish you to serve no man but
the king, who I am sure wUl not reject you.
Therefore I desire you to take your pleasures
for a month, and then ye may come again unto
me, and I trust by that time, the king's majesty
wUl extend his clemency upon me." " Sir,"
quoth Master Cromwell, " there is divers of
these your yeomen, that would be glad to see
their friends, but they lack money: therefore
here is divers of your chaplains who have re
ceived at your hands great benefices and high
dignities ; let them therefore now show them
selves unto you as they are bound by all hu-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 269
manity to do. I think their honesty and charity
is not so slender and void of grace that they
would not see you lack where they may help to
refresh you. And for my part, although I have
not received of your grace's gift one penny
towards the increase of my yearly living, yet
wiU I depart with you this towards the dispatch
of your servants," and [therewith] delivered
him five pounds in gold. " And now let us see
what your chaplains. wUl do. I think they will
depart with you much more than I have done,
who be more able to give you a pound than I
one penny." " Go to, masters," quoth he to the
chaplains : in so much as some gave to him ten
pounds, some ten marks, some a hundred shil
lings, and so some more and some less, as at that
time their powers did extend ; whereby my lord
received among them as much money of their
liberality as he gave to each of his yeomen a
quarter's wages, and board wages for a month ;
and they departed down into the hall, where
some determined to go to their friends, and some
said that they would not depart from my lord
until they might see him in better estate. My
lord returned into his chamber lamenting the
departure from his servants, making his moan
unto Master CromweU, who comforted him the
best he could, and desired my lord to give him
leave to go to London, where he would either

270 THE LIFE OF
make or mar or he came again, which was al
ways his common saying. Then after long com
munication with my lord in secret, he departed
and took his horse, and rode to London, at
whose departing I was by, whom he bade fare
well ; and said, " ye shaU hear shortly of me,
and if I speed well, I wiU not fail to be here
again within these two days." Arid so I took
my leave of him, and he rode forth on his
journey. Sir Rafe Sadler, (now knight), was
then his clerk, and rode with him.
After that my lord had supped that night, and
aU men gone to bed, (being AU-hallown day),
it chanced so, about midnight, that one of the
porters came unto my chamber door, and there
knocked, and waking me, I perceived who it
was ; [and] asked him, " what he would have
that time of the night?" *' Sir," quoth the
porter, " there is a great number of horsemen
at the gate, that would come in, saying to me,
that it is Sir John RusseU, and so it appears to
me by his voice ; what is your pleasure that I
should do?" " Marry," quoth I, " go down
again, and make a great fire in your lodgCj
against I come to dry them ;" for it rained all
that night the sorest that it did aU that year
before. Then I rose and put on my nightgown,
and came to the gates, and asked who was there.
With that Master Russell spake, whom I knew

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 271
by his voice, and then I caused the porter to
open the gates and let them all in, who were
wet to the skin ; desiring Master RusseU to go
into the lodge to the fire ; and he showed me
that he was come from the king unto my lord
in message, with whom he required me to speak.
" Sir," quoth I, " I trust your news be good?"
" Yea, I promise you on my fideUty," quoth
he, " and so, I pray you, show him, I have
brought him such news that wUl please him
right weU." " Then I wUl go," quoth I, " and
wake him, and cause him to rise." I went in
continent to my lord's chamber door, and waked
my lord, who asked me, " what I would have ?"
" Sir," said I, "to show you that Sir John
RusseU is come from the king, who is desirous
to speak with you ;" and then he caUed up one
of his grooms to let me in ; and being within I
told him " what a journey Sir John RusseU had
that night." " I pray God," quoth he, " aU
be for the best." " Yes, sir," quoth I, "he
showed me, and so bade me tellyou, that he
had brought you such news as ye would greatly
rejoice thereat." " WeU, then," quoth he, " God
be praised, and welcome be his grace'! Go ye
and fetch him unto me, and by that time I will
be ready to talk with him."
Then Lretumed from him to the lodge, and
brought Master Russell from thence to my lord.

272 THE LIFE OF
who had cast on his nightgown. And when
Master Russell was come into his presence, he
most humbly reverenced him, upon his knee,
[to] whom my lord bowed down, and took him
up, and bade him welcome. " Sir," quoth he,
" the king commendeth him unto you ;" and
delivered him a great ring of gold with a Turkis,
for a token ; " and wiUeth you to be of good
cheer ; who loveth you as well as ever he did,
and is not a little disquieted for your troubles,
whose mind is fuU of your remembrance. In
so much as his grace, before he sat to supper,
called me unto him, and commanded me to take
this journey secretiy to visit you, to your com
fort the best of my power. And Sir, if it please
your grace, I have had this night the sorest
journey, for so little a way, that ever I had to
my remembrance."
My lord thanked him for his pains and good
news, and demanded of him if he had supped ;
and he said " Nay." " Well, then," quoth my
lord to me, " cause the cooks to provide some
meat for him ; and cause a chamber with a good
fire to be made ready for him, that he may take
his rest awhUe upon a bed." AU which com
mandment I fulfilled ; and in the meantime my
lord and Master Russell were in very secret
communication; and in fine, Mastfer Russell
went to his chamber, taking his leave of my

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 273
lord for all night, and said, " he would not tarry
but a whUe, for he would, God wilUng, be at
the court at Greenwich again before day, for he
would not for any thing tiiat it were known, his
being with my lord that night." And so being
in his chamber, having a small repast, rested
him a while upon a bed, whilst his servants
supped and dried themselves by the fire ; and
then incontinent he rode away with speed to
the court. And shortly after his being there,
my lord was restored again unto plenty of house
hold stuff, vessels, and plate, and of aU things
necessary some part, so that he was indifferently
furnished much better than he was of late, and
yet not so abundantly as the king's pleasure was,
the default whereof was in the officers, and in
such as had the oversight of the delivery thereof;
and yet my lord rejoiced in that little in com
parison to that he had before.
Now let us return again to Master Cromwell,
to see how he hath sped, since his departure last
from my lord. The case stood so, that there
should begin, shortly after AU-hallown tide, the
Parliament, and [he], being within London, de
vised with himself to be one of the Burgesses of
the Parliament, and chanced to meet with ofle
Sir Thomas Rush, knight, a special friend of his,
whose son was appointed to be one of the Bur
gesses of that Parliament, of whom he obtained

274 THE LIFE OF
his room, and by that means put his foot into
the Parliament House : then within two or three
days after his entry into the Parliament, he came
unto my lord, to Asher, with a much pleasanter
countenance than he had at his departure, and
meeting with me before he came to my lord,
said unto me, " that he had once adventured to
put in his foot, where he trusted shortiy to be
better regarded, or all were done." And when
he was come to my lord, they talked together
in secret mariner ; and that done, he rode out
of hand again that night to London, because he
would not be absent from the Parliament the
next morning. There could nothing be spoken
against my lord in the Parliament House but he
would answer it incontinent, or else take until
the next day, against which time he would re
sort to my lord to kriow what answer he should
make in his behalf; in so much that there was -
no matter alleged against my lord but that he
was ever ready furnished with a sufficient an
swer ; so that at length, for his honest behaviour
in his master's cause, he grew into such e"stima-
tion in every man's opinion, that he was esteemed
to be the most faithfuUest servant to his master
of all other, wherein he was of aU men greatly
commended. Then was there brought in a BUI of Articles
into the Parliament House to have my lord con-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 275
demned of treason ; against which bill Master
CromweU inveighed so discreetly, with such
witty persuasions and deep reasons, that the
same biU could take there no effect ^. Then were
his enemies compeUed to indite him in a pre
munire, and aU was done only to the intent to
entitle the king to aU his goods and possessions,
the. which he had gathered together, and pur
chased for his coUeges in Oxford and Ipswich,
and for the maintenanpe of the same, which was
then abuilding in most sumptuous wise. Wherein
when he was demanded by the judges, which
were sent [to] him purposely to examine him
what answer he would make to the same, he
said: " The king's highness knoweth right weU
whether I have offended his majesty and his
laws or no, in using of my prerogative legatine.

' A writer before cited (Dr. Pegge), is of opinion that the House
of Commons could not do otherwise than acquit him, notwith
standing the validity of several of the articles alleged against him,
because he had either sufiered the law for them already, or they
were not sufficiently proved : indeed some of them were not proper
grounds of censure.
' Wolsey says of these articles himself, " whereof a great part
be untrue : and those which be true are of such sort, that by the
doing thereof no malice or untruth can be arrected unto me, neither
to the prince's person nor to the state." The rejection of the bill
may be justly asci^ibed to the relentment of the king, for Cromwell
would not have dared to oppose it, nor the Commons to reject it,
had they not received an intimation that such was the royal
pleasure.'
T 2

276 THE LIFE OF
for the which ye have me indited. Notwith
standing I have the king's license in my coffers,
under his hand and broad seal, for exercising
and using the authority thereof, in the largest
wise, within his highness' dominions, the which
remaineth now in the hands of my enemies.
Therefore, because I wiU not stand in question
or trial with the king in his own cause, I am
content here of mine own frank wUl and mind,
in your presence, to confess the offence in the
inditement, and put me wholly in the mercy and
grace of the king, having no doubt in his godly
disposition and charitable conscience, whom I
know hath an high discretion to consider the
truth, and my humble submission and obedience.
And although I might justly stand on the trial
with him therein ; yet I am content to submit
myself to his clemency, and thus much ye may
say to him in my behalf, that I am entirely in
his obedience, and do intend, God wiUing, to
obey and fulfil all his princely pleasure in every
thing that he wiU command me to do ; whose
wUl and pleasure I never yet disobeyed or re
pugned, but was always contented and glad to
accomplish his desire and commandment before
God, whom I ought most rathest to [have]
obeyed ; the which negligence now greatly re-
penteth me. Notwithstanding, I most heartUy

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 277
require you, to have me most humbly to his
royal majesty commended, for whom I do and
AvUl pray for the preservation of his royal .person,
long to reign in honour, prosperity, and quiet
ness, and to have the victory over his mortal and
cankered enemies." And they fook their leave
of him and departed.
Shortly after the king sent the Duke of Nor
folk unto him in message; but what it was I
am not certain. But my Lord being advertised
that the duke was coming even at hand, he
caused aU his gentlemen to wait upon him
down through the HaU into the Base Court, to
receive the duke at the entry of the gates ; and
commanded aU his yeomen to stand still in the
HaU in order. And he and his gentlemen went
to the gates, where he encountered with my Lord
of Norfolkj whom he received bareheaded ; who
embraced each other : and so led him by the
arm through the HaU into his chamber. And
as the duke passed through the HaU, at the
upper end thereof he turned again his visage
down the Hall, regarding the number of the taU
yeomen that stood in order there, and said :
" Sirs," quoth he, " your diUgent and faithful
service unto my lord here your master, in this
time of his calamity, hath purchased for your
selves of all noble men much honesty ; in so

278 THE LIFE OF
much as the king commanded me to say to
you in his grace's name, that, for your true and
loving service that ye have done to your master,
his highness wiU see you all furnished at all
times with services according to your demerits."
With that my Lord Cardinal put off his cap,
and said to my Lord of Norfolk ; " Sir," quoth
he, " these men be all approved men : where
fore it were pity they should want other service
or living; and being sorry that I am not able
to do for them as my heart doth wish, do there
fore require you, my good lord, to be good lord
"unto them, and extend your good word for them,
when ye shaU see opportunity at any time here
after; and that ye wUl prefer their diUgent
and faithfol service to the king." " Doubt ye
not thereof," quoth my Lord of Norfolk, " but I
wUl do for them the best of my power : and when
I shaU see cause, I wUl be an earnest suitor for
them to the king ; and some of you I wUl retain
myself in service for your honesty's sake. And
as ye have begun, so continue and remain here
still with my lord untU ye hear more of the
king's pleasure: — God's blessing and mine be
with you!" And so went up into the great
chamber to dinner, whom my Lord Cardinal
thanked, and said unto him, " Yet, my lord, of
all other noble men, I' have most cause to thank

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 279
you for your noble heart and gentle nature,
which ye have showed me behind my back, as
my servant, Thomas Cromwell, hath made re
port unto me. But even as ye are a noble man
in deed, so have ye showed yourself no less to
aU men in calamity, and in especial to me, and
, even as ye have abated my glory and high estate,
and brought it foil low, so have ye extended
your honourable favour most charitably unto me,
being prostrate before you. Forsooth, Sir, ye do
right weU deserve to bear in your arms the noble
and gentie Uon, whose natural inclination is, that
when he hath vanquished any beast, and seeth
him yielded, Ijdng prostrate before him at his
feet, then wUl he show most clemency unto his
vanquished, and do him no more harm, ne suffer
any other devouring beast to damage him : whose
nature and quality ye do ensue ; therefore these
verses may be appUed to your lordship :
Parcere prostratis scit nobilis ira leonis :
Tu quoquefac simile, quisquis regnabis in orbem."
With that the water was brought them to
wash before dinner, to the which my lord caUed
my Lord of Norfolk to wash with him : but he
refosed of courtesy, and desired to have him
excused, and said " that it became him not to
presume to wash with him any more now, than

280 THE LIFE OF
it did before* in his glory." " Yes, forsooth,"
quoth my Lord Cardinal, " for my authority and
dignity legatine is gone, wherein consisted aU
my high honour." " A straw," quoth .my Lord
of Norfolk, " for your legacy. I never esteemed
your honour the more or higher for that. But
I regarded your honour, for that ye were Arch
bishop of York, and a cardinal, whose estate
of honour surmounteth any duke now being
within this realm ; and so will I honour you, and
acknowledge the same, and bear you reverence
accordingly. Therefore, I beseech you, content
yourself, for I wUl not presume to wash with you ;
and therefore I pray you, hold me excused."
Then was my Lord Cardinal constrained to
wash alone ; and my Lord of Norfolk all alone
also. When he had done, my Lord Cardinal
would fain have had him to sit down on the

' During the visit of the Emperor Charles V. to Henry VIII.
" on Monday at nine of the clocke at night, was begun a banquet,
which endured till the next morning at three of the clocke, at the
which banquet the emperor, the king, and the Queene did wash
together, the Duke of Buckingham giving the water, the Duke of
Suffolke holding the towel. Next them did washe the Lord Car
dinall, the Queene of Fraunce, and the Queene of Arragon. At
which banquet the emperor kept the estate, the king sitting on the
left hand, next him the French Queene ; and on the other side
sate the Queene, the Cardinall, and the Queene of Aragon ; which
banquet was served by the emperor's owne servants." Stowe's
Annals, p. 510. edit. 161S. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 281
chair, in the inner side of the table, but surely
he refused the same also with much humble
ness. Then was there set, another chair for
my Lord of Norfolk, over against my Lord
Cardinal, on the outside of the table, the which
was by my Lord of Norfolk based something
beneath my lord, and during the dinner aU
their communication was of the dUigent service
of the gentiemen which remained with my lord
there attending upon him at dinner, and how
much the king and aU other noble men doth
esteem them with worthy commendations for
so doing; and at this time how little they be
esteemed in the court that are come to the
king's service, and [have] forsaken their master
in his necessity ; whereof some he blamed by
name. And with this communication, the din
ner being ended, they rose from the table, and
went together into my lord's bedchamber, where
they continued in consultation a certain season.
And being there, it chanced Master SheUey,
the judge, to come thither, sent from the king;
whereof relation was made to my lord, which
caused the duke and him to break up their
communication ; and the duke desired to go
into some chamber to repose him for a season.
And as he was coming out of my lord's cham
ber, he met with Master SheUey, to whom
Master Shelley made relation of the cause of

282 THE LIFE OF
his coming, and desired the duke to tarry and
to assist him in doing of his message ; whom
he denied and said, " I have nothing to do with
your message, wherein I wiU not meddle ;" and
so departed into a chamber, where he took his
rest for an hour or two. And in the mean time
my lord issued out of his chamber, and came
to Master Shelley to know his message. Who
declared unto him, after due salutation, that the
king's pleasure was to have his house at West
minster, (then caUed York Place, belonging to
the Bishoprick of York,) intending to make of
that house a palace royal; and to possess the
same according to the laws of this his grace's.
realm. His highness hath therefore sent for
aU the judges, and for aU his learned counsel,
to know their opinions in the assurance thereof;
in whose determinations it was fully resolved,
that your grace should recognise, before a
judge, the right thereof to be in the king and
his successors ; and so his highness shaU be
assured thereof. Wherefore it hath pleased
his majesty to appoint me by his commandment
to come hither, to take of you this recognisance,
who hath in you such affiance, that ye wiU not
refuse so to do accordingly. Therefore I shall
desire your grace to know your good will
therein." — " Master Shelley," quoth my Iprd,
" I know that the king of his own nature is of

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 283
a royal stomach, and yet not wiUing more than'
justice shall lead him unto by the law. And
therefore, I counsel you, and aU other fathers of
the law and Imrned men of his counsel, to put
no more into his head than the law may stand
with good conscience ; for when ye teU him,
this is the law, it were weU done ye should teU
him also that, although this be the law, yet this
is conscience; for law without conscience is
not good to be given unto a king in counsel to
use for a lawful right, but always to have a
respect to conscience, before the rigour of the
common law, for laus est facere quod decet, non
quod licet. The king ought of his royal dignity
and prerogative to mitigate the rigour of the
law, where conscience hath the most force;
therefore, in his royal place of equal justice, he
hath constitute a chanceUor, an officer to exe
cute justice with clemency, where conscience is
opposed by the rigour of the law. And therefore
the Court of Chancery hath been heretofore
commonly caUed the Court of Conscience ; be
cause it hath jurisdiction to command the high
ministers of the common law to spare execution
and judgment, where conscience hath most effect.
Therefore I say to you in this case, although
you, and other of your profession, perceive by
your learning that the king may, by an order of
your laws, lawfuUy do that thing which ye de-

284 THE LIFE OF
mand of me ; how say you. Master SheUey, may
I do it with justice and conscience, to give that
thing away from me and my successors which is
none of mine ? If this be law, with conscience,
show me your opinion, I pray you." " For
sooth, my lord," quoth he, " there is some con
science in this case ; but having regard to the
king's high power, and to be employed to a
better use and purpose, it may the better be
suffered with conscience ; who is sufficient to
make recompense to the church of York with
double the value." " That I know well," quoth
my lord, " but here is no such condition neither
promised nor agreed, but only a bare and simple
departure with another's right for ever. And if
every bishop may do the like, then might every
prelate give away the patrimony of their churches
which is none of theirs ; and so in process of
time leave nothing for their successors to main
tain their dignities, which, aU things considered,
should be but smaU to the king's honour. Sir,
I do not intend to stand in terms with you in
this matter, but let me see your commission."
To whom Master SheUey showed the same, and
that seen, and perceived by him, said again thus :
" Master Shelley," quoth he, " ye shaU make re
port to the king's highness, that I am his obedi
ent subject, and faithful chaplain and headman,
whose royal commandment and request I wiU in

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 285
no wise disobey, but most gladly fulfil and ac
complish his princely will and pleasure in all
things, and in especial in this matter, in as much
as ye, the fathers of the laws, say that I may
lawfoUy do it. Therefore I charge your con
science and discharge mine. Howbeit, I pray
you, show his majesty from me, that I most
humbly desire his highness to call to his mos|
gracious remembrance, that there is both heaven
and hell." And therewith the clerk was caUed,
who wrote my lord's recognisance s, and after
some secret talk Master SheUey departed. Then
rose my Lord of Norfolk from his repose, and
after some communication with my lord he
departed. Thus continued my lord at Asher, who re
ceived daUy messages from the court, whereof
some were not so good as some were bad, but
yet much more evU than good. For his ene
mies, perceiving the great affection that the king
bare always towards him, devised a mean to dis
quiet and disturb his patience ; thinking thereby
to give him an occasion to fret and chafe, that
death should rather ensue than increase of health
or life, the which they most desired. They
feared him more after his fall than they did be-

= This instrument is published by Fiddes in his Collections,
p. 22*.

286 THE LIFE OF
fore in his prosperity, doubting much his re-
adoption into authority, by reason that the king's
fevour remained still towards him in such force,
whereby they might rather be in danger of their
estates, than in any assurance, for their cruelty
ministered, by their malicious inveritions, sur
mised and brought to pass against him.
Therefore they took this order among them
in their matters, that daUy they would send
him something, or do something against him,
wherein they thought that they might give him
a cause of heaviness or lamentation. As some
day they would cause the king to send for four
or five of his gentlemen from him to serve the
king : and some other day they would lay mat
ters newly invented against him. Another day
they would take from him some of his pro
motions ; or of their promotions whom he [had]
preferred before. Then would they fetch from
him some of his yeomen ; in so much as the king
took into service sixteen of them at once, and
at one time put them into his guard. This
order of life he led continually; that there
was no one day but, or ever he went to bed,
he had an occasion greatly to chafe or fret the
heart out of his beUy, but that he was a wise
man, and bare all their malice in patience 6.
* The anguish and anxiety he suffered may be seen by the let
ters written at this period to his old servants Cromwell and Gar-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 287
At Christmas he fell sore sick, that he was
likely to die. Whereof the king being adver
tised, was very sorry therefore, and sent Doctor
Buttes, his grace's physician, unto him, to see in
what estate he was. Doctor Buttes came unto
him, and finding him very sick lying in his bed ;
and perceiving the danger he was in repaired
again unto the king. Of whom the king de
manded, saying, " How doth yonder man, have
you seen him ?" " Yea, sh," quoth he. " How
do you like him ?" quoth the king. " Forsooth,
sir," quoth he, " if you wUl have him dead, I
warrant your grace he wUl be dead within these
four days, if he receive no comfort from you
shortiy, and Mistress Anne." " Marry," quoth
the king, " God forbid that he should die. I pray
you, good Master Buttes, go again unto him,
and do your cure upon him ; for I would not
lose him for twenty thousand pounds." " Then
must your grace," quoth Master Buttes, " send
him first some comfortable message, as shortiy
as is possible." " Even so wiU I," quoth the
king, " by you. And therefore make speed to
him again, and ye shaU deliver him from me
this ring for a token of our good wiU and favour
towards him, (in the which ring was engraved

diner ; I have placed them in the Appendix, as a necessary illus
tration of this affecting picture.

288 THE LIFE OF
the king's visage within a ruby, as lively coun
terfeit as was possible to be devised). This
ring he knoweth very weU ; for he gave me the
same ; and teU him, that I am not offended with
him in my heart nothing at aU, and that shaU he
perceive, and God send him life, very shortly.
Therefore bid, him be of good cheer, and pluck
up his heart, and take no despair. And I charge
you come not from him, untU ye have brought
him out of all danger of death." And then spakel
he to Mistress Anne, saying, " Good sweetheart,
I pray you at this my instance, as ye love us, to
send the cardinal a token with comfortable words ;
and in so doing ye shall do us a loving pleasure."
She being not minded to disobey the king's
earnest request, whatsoever she intended in her
heart towards the cardinal ; took incontinent her
tablet of gold hanging at her girdle, and delivered
it to Master Buttes, with very gentle and com
fortable words and commendations to the car
dinal. And thus Master Buttes departed, and
made speedy return to Asher, to my Lord Car-,
dinal ; aft^r-whoirT'tlie king sent Doctor Cle
ment, Doctor Wotton, and Doctor Cromer the
Scot, to corisult and assist Master Buttes for myi
lord's health.
After that Master Buttes had been with my-
lord, and delivered the king's and Mistress
Anne's tokens unto him, with the most com-

B? BUTTS SEHT BY THE KING TO THE SICK CAKBINAL "WITH TOKENS OF TAVOXTR
Frcm a MS. in the CcUeccien, of Fronds Douce Fsq'^ I S.J .

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 289
fortable words he could devise on their behalf,
whereat he rejoiced not a little, advancing him
a littie in his bed, and received their tokens most
joyfully, thanking Master Buttes for his com
fortable news and pains. Master Buttes showed
him furthermore, that the king's pleasure was,
that he should minister unto him for his health :
and to join with him for the better and most
assured and brief ways, to be had for the same,
hath sent Doctor Wotton, Doctor Clement, and
Doctor Cromer, to join with him in counsel and
ministration. " Therefore, my lord," quoth he,
" it were weU done that they should be called in
to visit your person and estate, wherein I would
be glad to hear their opinions, trusting in
Almighty God that, through his grace and as
sistance, we shall ease you of your pains, and
rid you clean from your disease and infirmity.
Wherewith my lord was well pleased and con
tented to hear their judgments ; for indeed he
trusted more to the Scottish doctor than he did
to any of the other, because he was the very
occasion that he inhabited here in England, and
before he gave him partly his exhibition in Paris.
Then when they were come into his chamber,
and had talked with him, he took upon him to
debate his disease learnedly among them, so that
they might understand that he was seen in that
u

290 THE LIFE OF
art. After they had taken order for ministra
tion, it was not long or they brought him out of
aU danger and fear of death ; and within four
days they set him on his feet, and got him a good
stomach to his meat '. This done, and he in a
good estate of amendment, they took their leave
to depart, to whom my lord offered his reward ;
the which they refused, saying, that the king
gave them in special commandment, to take
nothing of him for their pains and ministration ;
for at thek return his highness said that he
would reward them of his own Costs: and thus
with great thanks they departed from my lord,
whom they left in good estate of recovery.
After this time my lord daUy amended, and
so continued stUl at Asher untU Candlemas ;
against which feast, the king caused to be sent
him three or four cart loads of stuff, and most
part thereof was locked in great standards^ (ex-

' In an extract from a letter to Cromwell, published by Fiddes,
the cardinal says: " My fever is somewhat asswaged, and the
black humour also, howbeit I am entering into the kalends of a
more dangerous disease, which is the dropsy, so that if I am not
removed into a dryer air, and that shortly, there is little hope."
And in a letter to Gardiner, which will be found in the Appendix,
he repeats his wish to be reinoved from Asher : " Continuing in
this moiste and corrupt ayer, beyng enteryd in the passion of the
dropsy, Appetitus et continuo insomnio, I cannot lyve : wherfor of
necessyte I must be removed to some dryer ayer and place."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 291
cept beds and kitchen-stuff,) wherein was both
plate and rich hangings, and chapel-stuff^. Then
my lord, being thus fornished, was therewith
weU contented ; although they whom the king
assigned did not deliver him so good, ne so
rich stuff, as the king's pleasure was, yet was he
joyous thereof, and rendered most humble thanks
to the king, and to them that appointed the said
stuff for him, saying to us his servant^, at the
opening of the same stuff in the standards, the
which we thought, and said, might have been
better appointed, if it had pleased them that ap
pointed it : " Nay, sirs," quoth my lord to us,
" he that hath ndthirig is glad ' of somewhat,
though it be never so Uttle, and although it be
not in comparison half so much and good as we
had before, yet we rejoice more of this little than
we did of the great abundance that we then had ;
and thank the king; very much for the samfe,
trusting after this to have much more. There
fore let us aU rejoice, and be glad, that God and
the king hath so graciously remembered to re
store us to some things to maintain our estate
like a noble person."

' stuff was the general term for all kind of moveables or baggage.
See the instrument of the king's benefaction to the cardinal after
his forfeiture by the premunire, in Rjrmer's Foedera, and in Fiddes'
Collections. The reader will find the Schedule which was a£Sxed
to it, in oiu" Appendix.
u 2

292 THE LIFE OF
Then commanded he Master CromweU, being
with him, to make suit to the king's majesty,
that he might remove thence to some other
place, for he was weary of that house of Asher :
for with continual use thereof the house waxed
unsavoury ; supposing that if he might remove
from thence he should much sooner recover his
health." And also the council had put into the
king's head, that the new gaUery at Asher,
which my lord had late before his faU newly set
up, should be very necessary for the king, to
take down and set it up again at Westminster ;
which was done accordingly, and stands at this
present day there ^. The taking away thereof
before my lord's face was to him a corrosive,
which was irivented by his enemies only to tor
ment him, the which indeed discouraged him
very sore to tarry any longer there. Now Ma
ster Cromwell thought it but vain and much foUy
to move any of the king's council to assist and
prefer his suit to the king, among whom rested
the number of his mortal enemies, for they would
rather hinder his removing, or else remove him
farther from the king, than to have holpen him
to any place nigh the king's common trade ;
wherefore he refused any suit to them, and made

» " From the old gallery next the king's lodging, unto the first
gatehouse." Wordsworth's Edition.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. S93
only suit to the king's own person ; whose suit
the king graciously heard, and thought it very
convenient to be granted ; and through the
special motion of Master CromweU, the king
was weU contented that he should remove to
Richmond, which place my lord had a little be
fore repaired to his great cost and charge ; for
the king had made an exchange thereof with
him for Hampton Court. All this his removing
was done without the knowledge of the king's
councU, for if they might have had any intelli
gence thereof before, then would they have per
suaded the king to the contrary : but when they
were advertised of the king's grant and pleasure,
they dissimuled their countenances in the king's
presence, for they were greatly afraid of him,
lest his nigh being, the king might at length
some one time resort to him, and so caU him
home again, considering the great affection and
love that the king daUy showed towards him ;
wherefore they doubted his rising again, if they
found not a mean to remove him shortly from
the king. In so much that they thought it con
venient for their purpose! to inform the king
upon certain considerations which they invented,
that it were very necessary that my lord should go
down into the North unto his benefice of York,
where he should be a good stay for the country ;
to the which the king, supposing that they had

294 THE LIFE OF
meant no less than good faith, granted and conde
scended to their suggestions ; which were forced
so with wonderfid imagined considerations, that
the king, understanding nothing of their intent,
was lightiy persuaded to the same. Whereupon
the Duke. of Norfolk commanded Master Crom
weU, who had daUy access unto him, to say to
my lord, that it is. the king's pleasure that he
should with speed go to his benefice, where Ueth
his cure, and look to that according to his duty.
Master Cromwell at his next repair to my lord,
who lay then at Richmond, declared unto him
what, my Lord .of Norfolk said, how it was de
termined that he should go to his benefice.
" WeU then, Thomas," quoth my lord, " seeing
there is no other remedy, I do intend to go
to my benefice of Winchester, and I pray you,
Thomas, so show my Lord of Norfolk." " Con
tented, sir," quoth Master Cromwell, and ac
cording to his commandment did so. To the
which my Lord of. Norfolk answered and said,
" AVhat wiU he do there ?" "Nay," quoth he,
"let him go into his province of York, whereof
he hath received his honour, and there lieth the
spiritual burden and charge of his conscience, as
he ought to do, and so show him." The lords,
who were not all his friends, having intelligence
of his intent, thought to withdraw his appetite
from Winchester, and would in no wise permit

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 295
him to plant himself so nigh the king : [they]
moved therefore the king to give my lord but a
pension i out of Winchester, and to distribute
all the rest among the nobUity and other of his
worthy servants ; and in likewise to do the same
with the revenues of St. Albans ; and of the re
venues of his colleges in Oxford and Ipswich, the
which theking took into his own hands ; whereof
Master CromweU had the receipt and govern
ment before by my lord's assignment. In consi
deration thereof it was thought most convenient
that he should have so stiU. Notwithstanding,
out of the revenues of Winchester and St. Albans
the king gave to some one nobleman three hun
dred marks, and to some a hundred pounds, and
to some more and to some less, according to the
king's royal pleasure. Now Master CromweU
executed, his office, the which he had over the
lands of the coUege, so justly and exactly that
he was had in great estimation for his witty bcr
haviour therein, and also for the true, faithful,
and dUigent service extended towards jny lord
his master, ^ 
It came at length so to pass that those to
whom the king's majesty had given any annuities

' " Of four thousand marks," say the more recent MSS. and
Dr. Wordsworths Edit.

296 THE LIFE OF
or fees for term of life by patent out of the fore-
named revenues could not be good, but [only]
during my lord's life, forasmuch as the king had
no longer estate or title therein^, which came
to him by reason of my lord's attainder in the
premunire ; and to make their estates good and
sufficient according to their patents, it was
thought necessary to have my lord's confirma
tion unto their. grants. And this to be brought
about, there was no other mean but to make
suit to Master Cromwell to obtain their con
firmation at my lord's hands, whom they thought
might best obtain the same.
Then began both noblemen and other who had
any patents of the king, out either of Win
chester or St. Albans, to make earnest suit to
Master CromweU for to solicit their causes to
my lord, to get of him his confirmations ; and
for his pains therein sustained, they promised
every man, not only worthUy to reward him,
but also to show him such pleasures as should
at all times lie in their several powers,, whereof

¦' Those to whom they were granted appear to have been the
Lord Sandys and his son Thomas ; Su: WiUiam Fitzwilliam, Sir
Henry Guilford, Sir John Russel, and Sir Henry Norris. This
suit to the cardinal seems to have been successfully brought about.
Their pensions out of the revenues of the see of Winchester were
settled on them for life by Act of Parliament, notwithstanding the
just objection in the text. Rot. Pari, clxxxviii. Stat. 22 Hejj.
VIII. c. 22,

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 297
they assured him. Wherein Master CromweU
perceiving an occasion and a time given him to
work for himself, and to bring the thing to pass
which he long wished for ; intended to work so
in this matter, to serve their desires, that he
might the sooner bring his own enterprise to
purpose. Then at his next resort to my lord, he moved
him privUy in this matter to have his counsel
and his advice, and so by their witty heads it
was devised that they should work together by
one line, to bring by their policies Master
Cromwell in place and estate, where he might
do himself good and my lord much profit.
Now began matters to work to bring Master
CromweU into estimation in such sort as was
afterwards much to his increase of dignity ; and
thus every man, having an occasion to sue for
my lord's confirmation, made now earnest
travail to Master Cromwell for these purposes,
who refused none to make promise that he
would do his best in that case. And having a
great occasion of access to the king for the dis
position of divers lands, whereof he had the
order and governance ; by means whereof, and
by his witty demeanour, he grew continually into
the king's favour, as ye shaU hear after in this
history. But first let us resort to the great
business about the assurance of all these patents

298^ THE LIFE OF
which the king hath given to divers noblemen
and other of his servants, wherein Master Crom,,
weU made a continuance of great suit to my
lord for the same, that in process of time he
served all their turns so that they had their
purposes, and he their good wUls. Thus rose
his name and friendly acceptance with aU men.
The fame of his honesty and wisdom sounded so
in the king's ears that, by reason of his access
to the king, he perceived to be in him no less
wisdom than fame had made of him report, for
asmuch as he had the government and receipts
of those lands which I showed you before ; and
the conference that he had with the king therein
enforced the king to repute him a very wise
man, and a meet Instrument to serve his grace,
as it after came to pass.
,, Sir, now the lords thought long to remove
my lord farther from the king, and out of his
pommon trade ; wherefore among other of the
lords, my Lord of Norfolk said to Master Crom
well, " Sir," quoth he, " me thinketh that the
cardinal your master maketh no haste northr
ward ; show him, that if he go,not away shortly,
I wUl, rather than he should tarry stiU, tear him
with my teeth. Therefore I would advise him
to prepare him away as shortly as he can, or
else he shall be sent forward." These words
Master Cromwell reported to my lord at his

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 299
next repau' unto him, who then had a just occa
sion, to resort to him for the dispatch of the
noblemen's, and others' patents. And here I wiU
leave of this matter, and show you of my lord's
being at Richmond.
My lord, having license of the king to repair
and remove to Richmond, made haste to prepare
him thitherward; and so he came and lodged
within the great park there, which was a very
pretty house and a neat, lacking no necessary
rooms that to so smaU a house was convenient
and necessary ; where was to the same a very
proper , garden garnished with divers pleasant
walks and aUeys : my lord continued in this
lodge from the time that he came thitheri shortly
after Candlemas, untU it was Lent, with a privy
number of servants, because of the smallness of
the house, and the rest of his famUy went to
board wages.
I wUl teU you a certain tale by the way of
communication. Sir, as my lord was accus
tomed towards night to walk in the garden
there, to say his service, it was my chance then
to wait upon him there; and standing stUl in
an aUey, whUst he in another walked with his
chaplain, saying of his service ; as I stood, I
espied certain images of beasts counterfeit in
timber, standing in a corner under the lodge
wall, to the which I repaired to behold. Among

300 THE LIFE OF
whom I saw there a dun cow, whereon I mused
most, because it seemed me to be the most
lively entayUed ^ among all the rest. My lord
being, as I said, walking on the other side of
the garden, perceived me, came suddenly upon
me at my back, unawares, [^and] said : " What
have you espied here, that you so attentively
look upon ?" " Forsooth, if it please your grace,"
quoth I, " here I do behold these entayUed
images ; the which I suppose were ordained
for to be set up within some place about the
king's palace : howbeit, sir, among them all,
I have most considered the dun cow, [in] the
which (as it seemeth me) the workman has most
apertly showed his cunning." " Yea, marry, sir,"
quoth my lord, " upon this dun cow dependeth
a certain prophecy, the which I wUl show you,
for peradventure ye never heard of it before.
There is a saying," quoth he, " that
" When this cow rideth the bull.
Then, priest, beware thy scull."
[Of] which prophecy neither my lord that de
clared it, ne I that heard it, understood the
effect ; although that even then it was a-working
to be brought to pass. For this cow the king
gave as one of his beasts appertaining of anti-
¦¦ From the Ital. intagliare, to cut, carve, &c.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 301
quity unto his earldom of Richmond, which
was his ancient inheritance ; this prophecy was
after expounded in this wise. This dun cow,
because it was the king's beast, betokened the
king; and the bull betokened Mistress Anne
Boleyn, which was after queen, because that
her father. Sir Thomas Boleyn, gave the same
beast in his cognisance. So that when the king
had married her, the which was then unknown
to my lord, or to any other at that time, then
was this prophecy thought of all men to be ful
filled. For what a number of priests, both re
ligious and secular, lost their heads for offending
of such laws as were then made to bring this
[marriage] to effect, is not unknown to all the
world. Therefore it was judged of all men that
this prophecy was then fulfiUed when the king
and she were joined in marriage. Now, how
dark and obscure riddles and prophecies be,
you may behold in this same : for before it
was brought to pass there was not the wisest
prophesier could perfectiy discuss it, as it is
now come to effect and purpose. Trust there
fore, by mine advice, to no kind of dark riddles
and prophecies, wherein ye may, as many have
been, be. deceived, and brought to destruction.
And many times the imaginations and travaUous
business to avoid such dark and strange prophe
cies, hath, been the very occasion to bring the

302 THE LIFE OF
same the sooner to effect and perfection. There
fore let men beware to divine or assure them
selves to expound any such prophecies, for who
so doeth shaU first deceive themselves, and, se
condly, bring many into error; the experience
hath been lately experienced, the more pity.
But if men will needs think themselves so wise,
to be assured of such blind prophecies, and wUl
work their wUls therein, either in avoiding or in
fulfiUing the same, God send him well to speed,
for he may as weU, and much more sooner, take
damage than avoid the danger thereof! Let
prophecies alone, a God's name, apply your vo
cation, and commit the exposition of such dark
riddles and obscure prophecies to God, that dis-
poseth them as his divine pleasure shall see
cause to alter and change aU your enterprises
and imaginations to nothing, and deceive all
your expectations, and cause you to repent your
great foUy, the which when ye feel the smart,
wiU yourself confess the same to be both great
foUy and much more madness to trust in any
such fantasies. Let God therefore dispose them,
who governeth and punisheth according to man's
deserts, and not to aU men's judgment's.
You have heard herebefore what words the
Duke of Norfolk had to Master Cromwell touch
ing my lord's going to the North to his benefice
of York, at such time as Master Cromwell de-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 303
clared the same to my lord, to whom my lord
answered in this wise : " Marry, Thomas," quoth
he, " then it is time to be going, if my Lord of
Norfolk take it so. Therefore I pray you go to
the king and move his highness in my behalf,
and say that I would, with all my heart, go to
my benefice at York, but for want of money ;
desiring his grace to assist me with some money
towards my journey. For ye may say that the
last money that I received of his majesty hath
been too little to pay my debts, compelled by
his counsel so to do ; therefore to constrain me
to the payment thereof, and his highness having
aU my goods, hath been too much extremity;
wherein I trust his grace wiU have a charitable
respect. Ye may say also to my Lord of Norfolk,
and other of the couricU, that I would depart if
I had money." " Sir," quoth Master CromweU,
" I wUl do my best." Arid after other com
munication he departed agaitt, and went to
London. My lord then in the beginning of Lent
[removed] out of the Lodge into the Charter
house of Richmond, where he lay in a lodgirig^
which Doctor Collet, sometime Dean of Paul's,
had made for himself, UntU he removed north
ward, which was in the Passion Week after ;
and he had to the same house a secret gallery,
which went out' of his chamber irito the Charter-

304 THE LIFE OF
house church, whither he resorted evei-y day to
their service ; and at afternoons he would sit in
contemplation with one or other of the most
ancient fathers of that house in his cell, who
among them by their counsel persuaded him
from the vain glory of this world, and gave him
divers shirts of hair, the which he often wore
afterward, whereof I am certain. And thus he
continued for the time of his abode there in
godly contemplation.
Now when Master Cromwell came to the
court, he chanced to move my Lord of Norfolk
that my lord would gladly depart northward
but for lack of money, wherein he desired his
assistance to the king. Then went they both
jointly to the king, to whom my Lord of Norfolk
declared how my lord would gladly depart north
ward, if he wanted not money to bring him
thither ; the king thereupon referred the as
signment thereof to the councU, whereupon they
were in divers opinions. Some said he should
have none, for he had sufficient of late delivered
him ; some would he should have sufficient and
enough ; and some contrariwise would he should
have but a small sum ; and some thought it
much against the councU's honour, and much
more against the king's high dignity to see him
want the maintenance of his estate which the
king had given him in this realm ; and [who]

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 305
also hatii been in such estimation with the king,
and in great authority under him ; it should be
rather a great slander in foreign realms to the
king and his whole councU, to see him want that
lately had so much, and now so little. " There
fore, rather than he should lack," quoth one
among them, " (although he never did me good
or any pleasure), yet would I lay my plate to
gage for him for a thousand pounds, rather than
he should depart so simply as some would have
him for to do. Let us do to him as we would
be done unto ; considering his small offence,
and his inestimable substance that he only hath
departed withal the same, for satisfying of the
king's pleasure, rather than he would stand in
defence with the king in defending of his case,
as he might justly have done, as ye aU know.
Let not maUce cloak this matter whereby that
justice and mercy may take no place ; ye have
all your pleasures fulfiUed which ye have long
desired, and now suffer conscience to minister
unto him some liberality ; the day may come
that some of us may be in the same case, ye
have such alterations in persons, as well assured
as ye suppose yourselves to be, and to stand
upon as sure a ground, and what hangeth over
our heads we know not ; I Can say no more :
now do as ye list." Then after all this they
began again to consult in this matter, and after

306 THE LIFE OP
long debating and reasoning about the same, it
was concluded, that he should have by the way
of prest^, a thousand marks out of Winchester
Bishoprick, beforehand of his pensiori, which the
king had granted him out of the same, for the
king had resumed the whole revenues of the
Bishoprick of Winchester into his own hands ;
yet the king out of the same had granted divers
great pensions unto divers noblemen and unto
other of his councU ; so that I do suppose, aU
things accompted, his part was the least. So
that, when this determination was foUy con
cluded, they declared the same to the king, who
straightway [commanded] the said thousand
marks to be delivered out of hand to Master
Cromwell; and so it was. The kirig, caUing
Master Cromwell to him secretly, bade him to
resort to him again when he had received the
said sum of money. And according to the same
commandment he repaired again to the king ;
to whom the king said : " Show my lord your
master, although our councU hath not assigned
any sufficient sum of money to bear his charges,
yet ye shaU show him in my behalf, that I wUl
send him a thousand pound, of my benevolence ;
and tell him that he shall not lack, and bid him
be of good cheer." Master CromweU upon his
1 PrH, Somme prHee. Fr. A sum in advance. W,

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 307
knees most humbly thanked the king on my
lord's behalf, for his great benevolence arid
noble heart towards my lord : " those comfortable
words of your grace," quoth he, " shall rejoice
him more than three times the value of your
noble reward." And therewith departed from
the king and came to my lord directiy to Rich
mond ; to whom he delivered the money, and
showed him aU the arguments in the council,
which ye have heard before, with the progress
of the same ; and of what money it was, and
whereof it was levied, which the council sent
him ; and of the money which the king sent
him, and of his comfortable words ; whereof my
lord rejoiced not a littie, and [was] greatly com
forted. And after the receipt of this money my
lord consulted with Master Cromwell about his
departure, and of his .journey, with the order
thereof. Then my lord prepared all things with speed
for his journey into the North, and sent to
London for livery clothes for his servants that
should ride with him thither. Some he refosed,
such as he thought were not meet to serve ; and
some again of their own mind desired him of his
favour to tarry stUl here in the south, being
very loath to abandon their native country, their
parents, wives, and children, [whom] he most
gladly licensed with good wUl and favour, and
X 2

308 THE LIFE OF
rendered unto them his hearty thanks for theif
painful service and long tarriance with him in
his troublesome decay and overthrow. So that
now aU things being furnished towards this
journey, he took the same in the beginning of
the Passion Week, before Easter ; and so rode
to a place, then the abbot's of _ Westminster,
caUed Hendon ; and the next day he removed
to a place caUed the Rye ; where my Lady
Parrey lay ; the next day he rode to Royston,
and lodged in the monastery there ; and the
next he removed to Huntingdon, and there
lodged in the Abbey ; and from thence he re
moved to Peterborough, and there lodged also
within the Abbey, being then Palm- Sunday,
where he made his abode until the Thursday in
Easter week, with aU his train ^; whereof the
most part went to board wages in the town^
having twelve carts to carry his stuff of his own,
which came from his college in Oxford, where
he had three score carts to carry such necessaries
as belonged to his buddings there. Upon Palm
Sunday he went in procession, with the monks,
bearing his palm ; setting forth God's service
right honourably, with such singing men as

5 " His train was in number one hundred and threescore per
sons." This addition is in Dr. Wordsworth's edition and the
later MSS.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 309
he then had remaining with him. And upon\
Maundy Thursday he made his Maundy in our
Lady's Chapel, having fifty-nine^ poor men,/
whose feet he washed, wiped, and kissed ; eacW
of these poor men had twelve pence in money,!
three ells of canvass to make them shirts, a pair]
of new shoes, a cast of bread, three red herrings, I
and three white herrings, and the odd person
had two shiUings. Upon Easter Day in the
morning he rode to the resurrection ', and that

° He was now fifty-nine years old.
' The book of Ceremonies before cited, which was compiled in
the reign of Henry VIII. observes : " Upon Easter Day in the
morning the ceremonies of the resurrection be very laudable, to put
us in remembrance of Christ's resurrection, which is the cause of
our justification." Strype's Eccles. Memorials, v. i. p. 294. Re
cords. What these ceremonies were we may collect from the Ru
brics upon that day, in the Processionale secundum usum Sarum.
fol. 72. edit. 1555 ; which are to this effect : On Easter Day, before
mass, and before the ringing of the hells, let the clerks assemble,
and aU the tapers in the church be lighted. Then two persons
shall draw nigh to the sepulchre, and after it is censed let them
take the cross out of the sepulchre, and one of them begin Christus
resurgens. Then let the procession commence. After this they
shall aU worship (adorent) the cross. Then let all the crucifixes
and images in the church be unveiled, &c. &c. In like manner
Good Friday also had its peculiar ceremonies. Bishop Longland
closes his sermon preached on that day before King Henry VIII.
A. D. 1538, in the following manner : " In meane season I shall
exhorte you all in our Lord God, as of old custome hath here this
day bene ¦used, every one of you or ye departe, with moost entire
devocyon, knelynge tofore our Savyour Lorde God, this our Jesus
Chryst, whiche hath sufi'ered soo muche for us, to whome we are
soo muche bounden, whoo lyeth in yonder sepulchre ; in honoure
of hym, of his passyon and deathe, and of his five woundes, to say
five Pater-nosters, five Aves, and one Crcde : that it may please

310 THE LIFE OF
day he went in ptocession in his cardinal's
vesture, with his hat and hood on his head, and
he himself sang there the high mass very de
voutly ; and granted clean remission to aU the
hearers^ ; and there continued [he] all the holi-^
days. My lord continuing at Peterborough after this
manner, intending to remove from thence, sent
me to Sir WiUiam FitzwiUiams, a knight, which
dwelt within three or four miles of Peterborough,
to provide him there a lodging until Monday
next foUowing, on his journey northward. And
being with him, to whom I declared my lord's
request, and he being thereof very glad, rejoiced
not a little that it would please my lord to visit
his house in his way ; saying, that he should be
most heartiliest welcome of any man alive, the
king's majesty excepted ; and that he should not
need to discharge the carriage of any of his stuff
for his own use during the time of his being
there ; but have aU things furnished ready against
his coming to occupy, his own bed excepted..
Thus upon my report made to my lord at my
return, he rejoiced of my message, commanding

his merciful! goodness to make us parteners of the merites of this
his most gloryous passyon, bloode, and deathe.'* Imprynted by
Tlwmas Petyt. See also Michael Wood's Dialogue or Familiar
Talks. A. D. 1554. Signat. D. 3. W.
* See above, page 158, Dr. Wordsworth's note.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 311
me therein to give warning to all his officers and
servants to prepare themselves to remove from
Peterborough upon Thursday next. Then every
man made all things in such readiness as was
convenient, paying in the to\yn for all things as
they had taken of any person for their own use,
for which cause my lord caused a proclamation
to be made in the town, that if any person or
persons in tiie town or country there were
offended or grieved against any of my lord's
servants, that they should resort to my lord's
officers, of whom they should have redress, and
truly answered as the case justly required. So
that, all things being fornished, my lord took
his journey from Peterborough upon the Thurs
day in Easter week, to Master FitzwiUiams,
where he was joyously received, and had right
worthy and honourable entertainment at the
only charge and expense of the said Master
FitzwiUiams, aU [the] time of his being there ^.
The occasion that moved Master FitzwiUiams
thus to rejoice of my lord's being in his house
was, that he sometime being a merchant of
London and sheriff there, feU in debate with

° In Mr. Ellis's very interesting collection of Historical Letters,
vol. i. p. 176, there is an extract of a letter from Sir William
FitzwiUiams, then on a mission in France, relating a conversation
he had with the French king upon his hearing the Duke of Buck
ingham was in the Tower. With the Cardinal's answer.

.312 THE LIFE OF
the city of London upon a grudge between the
aldermen of the bench and him, upon a new
corporation that he would erect of a new mystery
caUed Merchant Taylors, contrary to the opinion
of divers of the bench of aldermen of the cityy
which caused him to give and surrender his
cloak, and departed from London, and inhabited
within the country ; and against the maUce of
aU the said aldermen and other rulers in the
commonweal of the city, my lord defended him,
and retained him into service, whom he made
first his treasurer of his house, and then after
his high "chamberlain ; and in conclusion, for
his wisdom, gravity, port, and eloquence, being
a gentleman of a comely stature, made him one
of the king's counsel : and [he] so continued
all his life afterward. Therefore in consideration
of all these gratitudes received at my lord's
hands, as well in his trouble as in his preferment,
was most gladest like a faithful friend of good
remembrance to requite him with the semblable
gratuity, and right joys that he had any occasion
to minister some pleasure, such as lay then in
his power to do.
Thus my lord continued there until the
Monday next; where lacked no good cheer of
costiy viands, both of wine and other goodly
entertainment ; so that upon the said Monday
my lord departed from thence unto Stamford ;

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 313
where he lay aU that night. And the next day
he removed from thence unto Grantham, and
was lodged in a gentieman's house, called Master
HaU. And the next day he rode to Newark,
and lodged in the castie all that night ; the next
day he rode to SouthweU, a place of my lord's
within three or four mUes of Newark, where he
intended to continue all that summer, as he did
after. Here I must declare to you a notable tale of
communication which was done at Master Fitz
wiUiams before his departure from thence, be
tween [my lord] and me, the which was this :
Sir, my lord being in the garden at Master Fitz
wiUiams, walking, saying of his evensong with
his chaplain, I being there giving attendance
upon him, his evensong finished, [he] com
manded his chaplain that bare up the train of
his gown whilst he walked, to deliver me the
same, and to go aside when he had done ; and
after the chaplain was gone a good distance, he
said unto me in this wise, " Ye have been late
at London," quoth he ; " Forsooth, my lord,"
quoth I, " not since that I was there to buy
your liveries for your servants." " And what
news was there then," quoth he ; " heard you
no communication there of me ? I pray you tell
me." Then perceiving that I had a good oc
casion to talk my mind plainly unto him, [I]

314 THE LIFE OF
said, " Sir, if it please your grace, it was my
chance to be at a dinner in a certain place within
the city, where 1, among divers other honest and
worshipful gentlemen happed to sit, which were
for the most part of my old famUiar acquaintance,
wherefore they were the more bolder to enter in
communication with me, understanding that I
was still your grace's servant ; [they] asked me
a question, which I could not well assoU them."
" What was that ?" quoth my lord. " Forsooth,
sir," quoth I, " first they asked me how ye did,
and how ye accepted your adversity, and trouble,
and the loss of your goods ; to the which I an
swered, that you were in health (thanks be to
God), and took all things in good part ; and so
it seemed me, that they were all your indifferent
friends lamenting your decay, and loss of your
room and goods, doubting much that the sequel
thereof could not be good in the commonwealth.
For often changing of such officers which be fat
fed, into the hands of such as be lean and hungry
for riches, [they] wUl sure travaU by aU means
to get abundance, and so the poor commons be
piUaged and extorted for greedy lucre of riches
and treasure : they said that ye were full fed,
and intended now much to the advancement of
the king's honour and the commonwealth. Also
they marveUed much that ye, being of so ex
ceUent a wit and high discretion, would so simply

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 315
confess yourself guUty in the premunire, wherein
ye might fuU weU have stood in the trial of your
case. For they understood, by the report of
some of the king's learned counsel, that your
case well considered, ye had great wrong: to
the which I could make, as me thought, no suf
ficient answer, but said, " That I doubt not your
so doing was upon some greater consideration
than my wit could understand." " Is this,"
quoth he, " the opinion of wise men ?" " Yea,
forsooth, my lord," quoth I, " and almost of all
other men." " WeU, then," quoth he, " I see
that their wisdoms perceive not the ground of
the matter that moved me so to do. For I con
sidered, that my enemies had brought the matter
so to pass against me, and conveyed it so, that
they made it the king's case, and caused the
king to take the matter into his own hands and
quarrel, and after that he had upon the occasion
thereof seized aU my goods and possessions into
bis demayns, and then the quarrel to be his,
rather than yield, or take a foil in 'the law, and
thereby restore to me all my goods again, he
would sooner (by the procurement of my enemies
and evU wUlers) imagine my utter undoing and
destruction ; whereof the most ease therein had
been for me perpetual imprisonment. And rather
than I would jeopard so far, or put my life in any
such hazard, yet had I most liefest to yield and

316 THE LIFE OF
confess the matter, committing the sole sum
thereof, as I did, unto the king's clemency and
mercy, and live at large, like a poor vicar, than
to lie in prison with aU the goods and honours
that I had. And therefore it was the most best
way for me, aU things considered, to do as I have
done, than to stand in trial with the king, for
he would have been loath to have been noted a
wrong doer, and in my submission, the king, I
doubt not, had a great remorse of conscience,
wherein he would rather pity me than malign
me. And also there was a continual serpentine
enemy about the king that would, I am well
assured, if I had been found stiff necked, [have]
called continually upon the king in his ear (I
mean the night-crow) with such a vehemency
that I should with the help of her assistance
[have] obtained sooner the king's indignation
than his lawful favour : and his favour once lost
(which I trust at this present I have) would
never have been by me recovered. Therefore
I thought it better for me to keep stUl his loving
favour, with loss of my goods and dignities, than
to win my goods and substance with the loss of
his love and princely favour, which is but only
death : Quia indignatio principis mors est. And
this was the special ground and cause that I
yielded myself guilty in the premunire ; which
I perceive all men knew not, wherein since I

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 317
understand the king hath conceived a certain
prick of conscience ; who took to himself the
matter more grievous in his secret stomach than
aU men knew, for he knew whether I did offend
him therein so grievously as it was made or no,
to whose conscience I do commit my cause,
truth, and equity." And thus we left the sub
stance of all this communication ; although we
had much more talk: yet is this sufficient to
cause you to understand as well the cause of his
confession in his offence, as also the cause of the
loss of aU his goods and treasure. — - —
Now let us return where we left, my lord
being in the castie of Newark, intending to ride
to SouthweU, which was four mUes from thence,
took now his journey thitherward against supper.
Where he was fain for lack of reparation of the
bishop's place, which appertained to the see of
York, to be lodged in a prebendary's house
against the said place, and there kept house
untU Whitsuntide next, against which time he
removed into the place, newly amended and re
paired, and there continued the most part of the
summer, surely not without great resort of the
most worshipfuUest gentlemen of the country,
and divers other, of whom they were most gladly
entertained, and had of him the best cheer he
could devise for them, whose gentle and famUiar

318 THE LIFE OF
behaviour with them caused him to be greatly be
loved and esteemed through the whole country.
He kept a noble house, and plenty of both
meat and drink for aU comers, both for rich and
poor, and much alms given at his gates. He
used much charity and pity among his poor
tenants and other; although the fame thereof
was no pleasant sound in the ears of his enemies,
and of such as bare him no good wiU, howbeit
the common people will report as they find
cause ; for he was much more famUiar among
aU persons than he was accustomed, and most
gladdest when he had an occasion to do them
goodv He made many agreements and con
cords between gentleman and gentleman, and
between some gentlemen and their wives that
had been long asunder, and in great trouble,
and divers other agreements between other per
sons ; making great assemblies for the same pur
pose, and feasting of them, not sparing for any
costs, where he might make a peace and amity ;
which purchased him much love^ and friendship
in the country.
> The favourable representation given of this portion of the
cardinal's life, notwithstanding what is said by Fox, p. 908, is fuUy
confirmed by an authority which cannot be suspected of partiality
to. his memory,, that of a State Book, which came out from the
office of the king's printer in the year 1536, intituled A Remedy
for Sedition. " Who was lesse beloved in the Northe than my

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 319
It chanced that upon Corpus Christi eve, after
supper, [my lord] commanded me to prepare all
things for him in a readiness against the next
daf, for he intended to sing high mass in the
minster that day ; and I, not forgetting his com
mandments, gave like warning to all his officers
of his house, and other of my fellows, to foresee
that aU things appertaining to their rooms were
fuUy furnished to my lord's honour. This done
I went to my bed, where I was scantly asleep
and warm, but that one of the porters came to
my chamber door, calling upon me, and said,
there was two gentlemen at the gate that would
gladly speak with my lord fi-om the king. With
that I arose up and went incontinent unto the
gate with the porter, demanding what they were

lord cardynall, God have his sowle, before he was amonges them ?
Who better beloved, after he had ben there a whyle ? We hate
oft times whom we have good cause to love. It is a wonder to
see howe they were turned ; howe of utter enemyes they becaih
his dere frendes. He gave byshops a ryght good ensample, howe
they might wyn mens hartys. There was few holy dayes, but he
would ride five or six myle from his bowse, nowe to this parysh
churche, nowe to that, and there cause one or other of his doctours
to make a sermone unto the people. He sat amonges them, and
sayd masse before aU the paryshe. He sawe why churches were
made. He began to restore them to their ryght and ja-opre use.
He broughte his dinner with hym, and bad dyvers of the parish to
it. He enquired, whether there was any debate or grudge be-
tweene any dF them ; yf there were, after dinner he sente for the
parties to the churche, and made them aU one. Men say well that
do weU. Godde's lawes shal never be so set by as they ought,
before they be weU knowen." Signat. E. 2. W.

320 THE LIFE OF
that so fain [would] come in. They said unto
me, that there was Master Brereton, one of the
gentlemen of the king's privy chamber, and
Master Wrotherly, who were come from the
king empost, to speak with my lord. Then
having understanding what they were, I caused
the porter to let them in. And after their entry
they desired me to speak with my lord without
delay, for they might not tarry ; at whose re
quest I repaired to my lord's chamber, and
waked him, who was asleep. But when he heard
me speak, he demanded of me what I would
have. " Sir," quoth I, " there be beneath in the
porter's lodge. Master Brereton, gentleman of
the king's privy chamber, and Master Wrotherly,
come from the king to speak with you : they will
not tarry ; therefore they beseech your grace to
speak with you out of hand." " Well then,"
quoth my lord, "bid them come up into my
dining chamber, and I wiU prepare myself to
come to them." Then I resorted to them again,
and showed them that my lord desired them to
come up unto him, and he would talk with them,
with a right good will. They thanked me, and
went with me unto my lord, and as soon as they
perceived him, being in his night apparel, did
to him humble reverence ; whom he took by
the hands, demanding of them, how the king
his sovereign lord did. " Sir," said they, " right

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 321
well in health and merry, thanks be unto our
Lord." " Sir," quoth they, " we must desire
you to talk with you apart." " With a right
good wUl," quoth my lord, who drew them aside
into a great window, and there talked with them
secretiy ; and after long talk they took out of a
male a certain coffer covered with green velvet,
and bound with bars of silver and gilt, with a
lock of the same, having a key which was gilt,
with the which they opened the same chest ;
out of the which they took a certain instrument
or Avriting, containing more than one skin of
parchment, having many great seals hanging at
it, whereunto they put more wax for my lord's
seal ; the which my lord sealed with his own seal,
and subscribed his name to the same ; and that
done they would needs depart, and (forasmuch
as it was after midnight) my lord desired them
to tarry, and take a bed. They thanked him,
and said they might in no wise tarry, for they
would with all speed to the Earl of Shrewsbury's
directly without let, because they would be there
or ever he stirred in the morriing. And my
lord, perceiving their hasty speed, caused them
to eat such cold meat as there was in store within
the house, and to drink a cup or two of wine.
And that done, he gave each of them four old
sovereigns of gold, desiring them to take it in
gree, saying, that if he had been of greater
Y

322 THE LIFE OF
abUity, their reward should have been better ;
and so taking their leave they departed. And
after they were departed, as I heard say, they
were not contented with their reward. Indeed
they were not none of his indifferent friends,
which caused them to accept it so disdainously.
Howbeit, if they knew what little store of money
he had at that present, they would I am sure,
being but his indifferent friends, have given him
hearty thanks : but nothing is more lost or cast
away than is such things which be given to such
ingrate persons. My lord went again "to bed ;
and yet, all his watch and disturbance that he
had that night notwithstanding, he sang High
Mass the next day as he appointed before. There
was none in all his house [besides myself and the
porter] that knew of the coming or going of
these two gentlemen ; and yet there lay within
the house many worshipful strangers.
After this sort and manner my lord coritinued
at SouthweU, untU the latter end of grease time ;
at which time he intended to remove to Scroby,
which was another house of the Bishoprick of
York. And against the, day of his removing,
he caused aU his officers to prepare, as weU for
provision to be made for him there, as also for
carriage of his stuff, and other matters concern
ing his estate. His removing and intent was
not so secret, but that it was known abroad in

CARDIN.AL WOLSEY. 323
[the] country ; which was lamentable to all his
neighbours about Southwell, and as it was la
mentable unto them, so was it as much joy to
his neighbours about Scroby.
Against the day of his removing divers knights
and other gentiemen of worship in the country
came to him to SouthweU, intending to accom
pany and attend upon him in that journey the
next day, and to conduct him through the forest
unto Scroby. But he being of their purpose
advertised, how they did intend to have lodged
a great stag or twain for him by the way, pur
posely to show him aU the pleasure and disport
they could devise, and having, as I said, thereof
inteUigence, was very loath to receive any such
honour and disport at their hands, not knowing
how the king would take it ; and being well
assured that his enemies would rejoice much to
understand that he would take upon him any
such presumption, whereby they might find an
occasion to inform the king how sumptuous and
pleasant he was, notwithstanding his adversity
and overthrow, and so to bring the king into a
wrong opinion [of him, and caused] small hope
of reconcUement, but rather that he sought a
mean to obtain the favour of the country to with
stand the king's proceedings, with divers such
imaginations, wherein he might rather sooner
catch displeasure than favour and honour. And
Y 2

324 THE LIFE OF
also he was loath to make the worshipful gentie
men privy to this his imagination, lest peradven
ture they should conceive some toy or fantasy in
their heads by means thereof, and so to eschew
their accustomed access, and absent themselves
from him, which should be as much to his grief
as the other was to his comfort. Therefore he
devised this mean way, as hereafter foUoweth,
which should rather be taken for a laughing dis
port than otherwise : first he caUed me unto him
secretly at night, going to his rest, and cota-
manded me in anywise most secretly that night
to cause six or seven horses, besides his mule
for his own person, to be made ready by the
break of the day for him and such persons as he
appointed to ride with him to an abbey caUed
Welbeck,^, where he intended to lodge by the
way to Scroby, wUling me to be also in a readi
ness to ride with him, and to caU him so early
that he might be on horseback, after he had
heard mass, by the breaking of the day. Sir,
what wUl you more ? All things being accom
plished according to his commandment, and the
same finished and done, he, with a smaU number
before appointed, mounted upon his mule, set
ting forth by the breaking of the day towards

^ In the more recent MS. and in Dr. Wordsworth's edition,
' Newsted Abbey."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 325
Welbeck, which is about sixteen miles from
thence; whither my lord and we came before
six of the clock in the morning, and so went
straight to his bed, leaving aU the gentiemen
strangers in their beds at SouthweU, nothing
privy of my lord's secret departure, who ex
pected his uprising until it was eight of the
clock. But after it was known to them and to
all the rest there remaining behind him, then
every man went to horseback, galloping after,
supposing to overtake him. But he was at his
rest in Welbeck or ever they rose out of their
beds in Southwell, and so their chief hunting
and coursing of the gr-eat stag was disappointed
and dashed. But at their thither resort to my
lord, sitting at dinner, the matter was jested,
and laughed out merrily, and aU the matter well
taken. My lord the next day removed from thence,
to whom resorted divers gentlemen of my lord
the Earl of Shrewsbury's servants, to desire my
lord, in their master's name, to hunt in a park of
the earl's called Worksop Park, the which was
within a mile ofWelbeck, and the very best and
next^ way for my lord to travel through on his
journey, where much plenty of game was laid in
a readiness to show him pleasure. Howbeit he
3 Next, i. e. nearest.

326 THE LIFE OF
thanked my lord their master for his gentleness,
and them for their pains ; saying that he was no
meet man for any such pastime, being a man
otherwise disposed, such pastimes and pleasures
were meet for such nbbleriien as delight therein.
Nevertheless he could do no less than to account
my Lord of Shrewsbury to be much his friend,
in whom he found such gentleness and nobleness
in his honourable offer, to whom he rendered his
most lowly thanks. But in no wise they could
entreat him to hunt. Although the worshipful
gentlemen being in his company provoked him
all that they could do thereto, yet he would not
consent, desiring them to be contented ; saying,
that he came not into the country, to frequent
or foUow any such pleasures or pastimes, but
only to attend to a greater care that he had in
hand, which was his duty, study, and pleasure.
And with such reasons and persuasions he pa
cified them for that time. Howbeit yet as he
rode through the park, both my Lord of Shrews
bury's servants, and also the foresaid gentlemen
moved him once again, before whom the deer
lay very fair for all pleasant hunting and coursing.
But it would not be; but [he] made as much
speed to ride through the park as he could.
And at the issue out of the park he called the
earl's gentlemen and the keepers unto him, de
siring them to have him commended to my lord

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 327
their master, thanking him for his most honoura
ble offer and good will, trusting shortly to visit
him at his own house: and gave the keepers
forty shUlings for their pains and dUigence who
conducted him through the park. And so rode
to another abbey caUed Rufford Abbey [to din
ner] ; and after he rode to Blythe Abbey, where
he lay all night. And the next day he came to
Scroby, where he continued untU after Michael
mas, ministering many deeds of charity. Most
commonly every Sunday (if the weather did
serve) he would travel unto some parish church
thereabout, and there would say his divine ser
vice, and either hear or say mass himself, causing
some one of his chaplains to preach unto the
people. And that done, he would dine in some
honest house of that town, where should be
distributed to the poor a great alms, as well of
meat and drink as of money to supply the want
of sufficient meat, if the number of the poor did
so exceed of necessity. And thus with other
good deeds practising and exercising during his
abode there at Scroby, as making of love-days
and agreements between party and party, being
then at variance, he daily frequented himself
there about such business and deeds of honest
charity. Then about the feast of St. Michael next en
suing my lord took his journey towards Cawood

328 THE LIFE OF
Castle, the which is within seven mUes of York;
and passing thither he lay two nights and a day
at St. Oswald's Abbey, where he himself con
firmed chUdren in the church, from eight of the
clock in the morning until twelve of the clock
at noon. And making a short dinner, resorted
again to the church at one of the clock, and there
began again to confirm more childreri untU four
of the clock, where he was at the last constrained
for weariness to sit down in a chair, the num
ber of the children was such. That done, he
said his even song, and then went to supper,
and rested him there all that night. And the
next morning he applied himself to depart to
wards Cawood ; and or ever he departed, he
confirmed almost a hundred children more ; and
then rode on his journey. And by the way there
were assembled at a stone cross standing upon
a green, within a quarter of a mile of Ferry
bridge, about the number of two hundred chil
dren, to confirm ; where he alighted, and never
removed his foot until he had confirmed them
all ; and then took his mule again and rode to
Cawood, where he lay long after with much ho
nour and love of the country, both of the wor
shipful and of the simple, exercising himself in
good deeds of charity, and kept there an ho
nourable and plentiful house for all comers ; and
also built and repaired the castle, which was

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 329
then greatly decayed, having a great multitude
of artificers and labourers, above the number of
three hundred persons, daily in wages.
And lying there, he had intelligence by the
gentiemen of the country, that used to repair
unto him, that there was sprung a great variance
and deadly hate between Sir Richard Tempest
and Mr, Brian Hastings, then being but a squire,
but after made knight, between whom was like to
ensue great murder, unless somegood mean might
be found to redress the inconvenience that was
most likeliest to ensue. My lord being thereof
advertised, lamenting the case, made such means
by his wisdom and letters, with other persua
sions, that these two gentlemen were content to
resort to my lord to Cawood, and there to abide
his order, high and low. Then was there a day
appointed of their assembly before my lord, at
which day they came not without great number
on each part. Wherefore against [that] day, my
lord had required many worshipful gentlemen to
be there present, to assist him with their wis
doms to appease these two worthy gentlemen,
being at deadly feud. And to see the king's
peace kept, commanding no more of their num
ber to enter into the castle with these two gen
tlemen than six persons of each of their menial
servants, and aU the rest to remain without in
the town, or where they listed to repair. And

330 THE LIFE OF
my lord himself issuing out of the gates, call
ing the number of both parties before him,
straightly charging them most earnestly to ob
serve and keep the king's peace, in the king's
name, upon their perUs, without either bragging
or quarreling either with other ; and caused them
to have both beer and wine sent them into the
town ; and then returned again into the castle,
being about nine of the clock. And because he
would have these gentlemen to dine with him at
his own table, thought it good in avoiding of
further inconvenience to appease their rancour
before. Whereupon he caUed them into his
chapel ; and there, with the assistance of the
other gentlemen, he feU into communication with
the matter, declaring unto them the dangers and
mischiefs that through their wUfulness and folly
were most likeliest to ensue ; with divers other
good exhortations. Notwithstanding, the parties
laying and aUeging many things for their de
fence, sometime adding each to other stout and
despitefol words of defiance, the which my lord
and the other gentlemen had much ado to qua
lify, their malice was so great. Howbeit, at
length, with long continuance and wise argu
ments, and deep persuasions made by my lord,
they were agreed, and finaUy accorded about
four of the clock at afternoon ; and so made them
friends. And, as it seemed, they both rejoiced.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 331
and were right weU contented therewith, to the
great comfort of all the other worshipful gentle
men, causing them to shake hands, and to go
arm in arm to dinner ; and so went to dinner,
though it was very late to dine^ yet notwith
standing they dined together with the other
gentlemen at my lord's table, where they drank
lovingly each to other, with countenance of great
amity. After dinner my lord caused them to dis
charge their routs and assembly that remained
in the town, and to retain with them no more
servants than they were accustomed most com
monly to ride with. And that done, these gen
tlemen, fulfiUing his commandment, tarried at

" The prevailing hour of dinner with our ancestors appears to
have been much earlier. In the Northumberland Household Book
it is said, " to X of the clock that my lord goes to dinner."
" With us," says Harrison, in the Description of England, pre
fixed to Holinshed's Chronicle, p. 171, " the Nobilitie, Gentrie,
and Students do ordinarilie go to dinner at eleven before noone,
and to supper at five, or betweene five and six at afternoone. The
merchants dine and sup seldome before twelve at noone, and six
at night, especiallie in London. The husbandmen dine also at
high noone, as they caU it, and sup at seven or eight : but out of
the tearme in our Universities the scholars dine at ten. As for the
poorest sort, they generaUy dine and sup when they may : so that
to talke of their order of repast, it were but a needlesse matter."
" Theophilus. You wente to duier betyme I perceave. Euse-
bius. Even as I doe commonly, when I have no busynes, betwene
nyne aiid ten ; me thinkes it is a good houre : for by that meanes
I save a breakfast, whyche for such idlers as I am,, is most fittest."
Dialogue between Eusebius and Theophilus. Signat. B 4. A. D.
1556. W.

332 ' THE LIFE OF
Cawood, and lay there all night ; whom my lord
entertained in such sort that they accepted his
noble heart in great worthiness [and friendship,]
trusting to have of him a special jewel in their.
country : having him in great estimation and fa
vour, as it appeared afterward by their behaviour
and demeanour towards him.
It is not to be doubted but that the worshipful
persons, as doctors and prebendaries of the close
of York, would and did resort unto him accord
ing to their duties, as unto their father and pa
tron of their spiritual dignities being at his first
coming into the country, their church of York
being within seven mUes. Wherefore ye shall
understand that Doctor Hickden, dean of the
church of York ^, with the treasurer, and divers
other head officers of the same repaired to my
lord, welcoming him most joyously into the coun
try ; saying, that it was to them no small comfort
to see him among them, as their chief head, which
hath been so long absent from them, being aU
that whUe like fatherless children comfortless,
trusting shortly to see him among them in his
own church. " It is," quoth he, " the especial
cause of all my travel into this country, not only
to be among you for a time, but also to spend

5 Dr. Brian Higden at that time bore the oflice.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 333
my life with you as a very father, and as a mu
tual brother." " Sir, then," quoth they, " ye must
understand that the ordinary rules of our church
hath been of an ancient custom, whereof although
ye be head and chief governor, yet be ye not
so well acquainted with them as we be. There
fore, we shaU under the supportation of your
grace, declare some part thereof to you, as well
of our ancient customs as of the laws and usage
of the same. Therefore ye shall understand that
where ye do intend to repair unto us, the old law
and custom of our church hath been, that the
archbishop being our chief head and pastor, as
your grace now be, might ne ought not to come
above the choir door, nor have any stall in the
choir, untU he by due order were there staUed.
For, if ye should happen to die before your
staUation, ye shaU not be buried above in the
choir, but in the body of the same church be
neath. Therefore we shaU, una voce, require
your grace in the name of all other our brethren,
that ye would vouchsafe to do herein as your
noble predecessors and honourable fathers hath
done ; and that ye will not infi-inge or violate any
of our laudable ordinances and constitutions of
our church, to the observance and preservation
whereof we be obliged, by virtue of an oath at our
first admittance, to see them observed and ful
fiUed to the uttermost of our powers, with divers

334 THE LIFE OF
Other matters remaining of record in our treasury
house among other things." " Those records,"
quoth my lord, " would I gladly see ; and these
seen and digested, I shaU then show you further
of my mind." And thus of this matter they
ceased communication, and passed forth in other
matters ; so that my lord assigned them a day to
bring in their records. At which day they brought
with them their register book of records, wherein
was written their constitutions and ancient rules,
whereunto all the fathers and ministers of the
church of York were most chiefly bound, both to
see it done and performed, and also to perform
and observe the same themselves. And when my
lord had seen, read, and considered the effect of
their records, and debated with them substan
tiaUy therein, he determined to be staUed there
in the Minster the next Monday after AUhaUown
day. Against which day there was made neces
sary preparation for the furniture thereof, but
not in so sumptuous a wise as his predecessors
did before him ; ne yet in such a sort as the com
mon fame was blown abroad of him to his great
slander, and to the reporters much more dis
honesty, to forge such lies and blasphemous
reports, wherein there is nothing more untrue.
The truth whereof I perfectly know, for I was
made privy to the same, and sent to York to
foresee all things, [and] to prepare according for

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 835
the same, which should have been much more
mean and base than all other of his predecessors
heretofore hath done.
It came so to pass, that upon AUhaUown day,
one of the head officers of the church, which
should, by virtue of his office, have most doings
in this StaUation, [was] to dine with my lord at
Cawood ; and sitting at dinner they fell in com
munication of the order of his staUation, who
said to my lord that he ought to go upon cloth
from St. James's chapel (standing without the
gates of the city of York) unto the minster, the
which should be distributed among the poor.
My lord, hearing this, made answer to the same
in this wise. " Although," quoth he, " that our
predecessors went upon cloth right sumptuously,
we do intend, God wiUing, to go afoot from
thence without any such glory 6, in the vamps of
our hosen. For I take God to be my very judge
that I presume not to go thither for any triumph

* The Cardinal perhaps remembered the credit which was gained
by his successful rival Cardinal Adrian, who being elected to the
papacy by the Conclave, through . the influence of the emperor
Charles V. " before his entry into the cittie of Rome (as we are told
by one of Sir Thomas More's biographers), putting off his hose and
shoes, and as I have credibly heard it reported, bar^-fpoted and
bare-legged, passed through the streets toiVEtrds his Palace, with
such humbleness, that aU the people had him in great reverence."
Harpsfield's Life of Sir Thomas More. Lambeth MSS. No. 827,
fol. 12. W.

336 THE LIFE OF
or vain glory, but only to fulfil the observance
and rules of the church, to the which, as ye say,
I am bound. And therefore I shall desire you
aU to hold you contented with my simpUcity, and
also I command all my servants to go as humbly
without any other sumptuous apparel than they
be constantly used, and that is comely and decent
to wear''. For I do assure you, I do intend to
come to York upon Sunday at night, and lodge
there in the dean's house, and upon Monday to
be stalled ; and there to make a dinner for you
of the close, and for other worshipful gentlemen
that shaU chance to come to me at that time ; and
the next day to dine with the mayor, and so

7 Storer, in his Poetical Life of Wolsey, 1599, has availed himself
of this declaration of the cardinal, in a passage justly celebrated for
its eminent beauty. The image in the second stanza is worthy of
a cotemporary of Shakspeare :
I did not mean with predecessors pride.
To walk on cloth as custom did require ;
More fit that cloth were hung on either side
In mourning wise, or make the poor attire ;
More fit the dirige of a mournful quire .
In dull sad notes all sorrows to exceed,
For him in whom the prince's love is dead.
I am the tombe where that afifection 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.
O could it die, that were a restfuU state ;
But living, it converts to deadly hate.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 337
return home again to Cawood that night, and thus
to finish the same, whereby I may at all times
resort to York Minster without other scrupu
losity or offence to any of you."
This day could not be unknown to all the coun
try, but that some must needs have knowledge
thereof, whereby that notice was given unto the
gentlemen of the country, and they being thereof
as well advertised as abbots, priors, and others,
of the day of this solemnization, sent in such
provision of dainty victuals that it is almost in
credible ; wherefore I omit to declare unto you
the certainty thereof. As of great and fat beeves
and muttons, wUdfowl, and venison, both red
and faUow, and divers other dainty meats, such
as the time of the year did serve, sufficient to
furnish a great and a sumptuous feast, all which
things were unknown to my lord : forasmuch as
he being prevented and disappointed of his rea
sonable purposed intent, because he was arrested,
as ye shaU hear hereafter; so that the most
part of this provision was sent to York that same
day that he was arrested, and the next day fol
lowing; for his arrest was kept as close and
secret from the country as it could be, because
they doubted the people, which had him in great
love and estimation for his accustomed charity
and liberality used daily among them, with fa-:
miliar gesture and countenance, which be the
z

338 THE LIFE OF
very means to aUure the loVe and hearts of the
people in the north parts.
Or ever I wade any further in this matter, I
do intend to declare unto you what chanced him
before this his last trouble at Cawood, as a sign
or token given by God what should follow of
his end, or of trouble which did shortiy ensue,
the se4uel whereof was of no man then present
either premeditate or imagined. Therefore, for
as much as it is a notable thing to be considered,
I wUl (God wiUing) declare it as truly as it
chanced according to my simple remembrance,
at the which I myself was present.
My lord's accustomed enemies in the court
about the king had now my lord in more doubt
than they had before his fall, considering the
continual favour that the king bare him, thought
that at length the king might caU him home
again ; and if he so did, they supposed, that he
would rather imagine against them than to remit
or forget their cruelty, which they most unjustly
imagined against him. Wherefore they com
passed in their heads that they would either by
some means dispatch him by some sinister accusa
tion of treasori, or to bring him into the king's
indignation by some other ways. This was their
daUy imagination and study, having as many
spials, and as many eyes to attend upon his do
ings as the poets feigned Argus to have ; so that

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 339
he could neither work or do any thing, but that
his enemies had knowledge thereof shortly after.
Now at the last, they espied a trine wherein they
caught an ocCasiori to bririg their purpose to
pass, thirikirig thereby to have of him a great
advantage ; for the matter beirig orice disclosed
unto the kirig, in Such a vehehiericy as thtey |jur-
posed, they thought the king would be moved
against him with great displeasure. And that
by them executed and done, the king, upori their
information, thought it good that he should
come up to stand to his trial ; which they liked
nothing at all ; notwithstanding he Was ^ent for
after this sort. First, they devised that he should
come up upon arrest in ward, which they knew
right weU would so sore grieVe him that he might
be the weaker to come into the king's presence
to make answer. Wherefore they sent Sir Wal
ter WalshCj knight, one of the gentlemen of the
king*s privy chamber, dowri into the country unto
the Earl of Northumberland ^ (who was brought

' Dr. Percys in the notes to the Northumberland Household
Book, has adduced a very curious extract from one of the letters
Of this Earl of Northumberland, which he thinks afi'ords a " full
vindication of the earl from the charge of ingratitude in being the
person employed io arrest the cardinal." However this may be,
the Carl appears to have felt the embislrrassment of his situation ;
be trembled, and ifrith a faltering voice could hardly utter the un
gracious purport of his mission. To a mind of any delicacy the
office must have been peculiarly distresfeirig, and even supposing
Z 2

34-0 THE LIFE OF
Up in my lord's house), and they twain being in
commission jointly to arrest my lord of hault
treason. This conclusion fuUy resolved, they
caused Master Walshe to prepare himself to this
journey with this commission, and certain in
structions annexed to the same ; who made him
ready to ride, and took his horse at the court
gate about one of the clock at noon, upon AU
haUown day, towards the north. Now am I
come to the place where I wUl declare the thing
that I promised you before of a certain token of
my lord's trouble ; which was this.
My lord sitting at dinner upon AUhaUown
day, in Cawood Castle, having" at his board's
end divers of his most worthiest chaplains, sit
ting at dinner to keep him company, for lack of
strangers, ye shall understand, that my lord's

the earl to have been formerly treated in an arbitrary and im
perious manner by the cardinal, it is one which he should have
avoided. As the letter gives a very curious picture of the manners
as well as the literature of our first nobility at that time, I shall
place it in ray appendix ; the very curious volume in which it is to
be found being of great rarity and value.
" " In tbe houses of our ancient nobility they dined at long
tables. The Lord and his principal guests sate at the upper end
of the first table, in the GreJit Chamber, which was therefore called
the Lord's Board-end. The officers of his household, and inferior
guests, at long tables below in the hall. In the middle of each
table stood a great salt cellar; and as particular care was taken
to place the guests according to their rank, it became a mark of
distinction, whether a person sate above or below the salt," — Notes.
on the Northumberland Household Book, p. 419.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 341
great cross of sUver accustomably stood in the
corner, at the table's end, leaning against the
tappet or hanging of the chamber. And when
the table's end was taken up, and a convenient
time for them to arise ; in arising from the table,
one Doctor Augustine, physician, being a Ve
netian born, having a boisterous gown of black
velvet upon him, as he would have come out at
the table's end, his gown overthrew the cross
that stood there in the corner, and the cross trad
ing down along the tappet, it chanced to fall
upon Doctor Bonner's head, who stood among
others by the tappet, making of curtsy to my
lord, and with one of the points of the cross
razed his head a little, that the blood ran down.
The company standing there were greatly asto^
nied with the chance. My lord sitting in his
chair, looking upon them, perceiving the chance,
demanded of me being next him, what the mat
ter meant of their sudden abashment. I showed
him how the cross feU upon Doctor Bonner's
head. " Hath it," quOth he, " drawn any blood ?"
" Yea forsooth, my lord," quoth I, " as it seemeth
me." With that he cast down his head, looking
very soberly upon me a good whUe without any
word speaking; at the last, quoth he, (shaking
of his head) " malum omen i ,-" and therewith said
¦ The enemies of Archbishop Laud, particularly in the time of
his troubles, were fond of comparing him with Cardinal Wolsey :

342 THE LIFE OF
grace, arid rose from the table, and went into his
bedchamber, there lamenting, makirig his pray
ers 2. Npw mark the sigriificatipn, hpw my lord
^xpouri.ded this matter unto me afterward at
Ppmfret Abbey. Firsts ye shaU understand, that
the crqss, which belonged to the dignity of
York, he understpod to be himself; and Augus
tine, that overthrew the cross, he understood to
be he that should accuse him, by means whereof
he should be overthrown. The falling upon Mas
ter Bonner's head, who was master of my lord's
faculties and spiritual jurisdictions, who was
damnified by the overthrowing of the cross by
the physician, and the drawing of blood betoken
ed death, which shortiy after came to pass ; about
the very same time of the day of this mischance.
Master Walshe took his horse at the court gate,
as nigh as it could be judged. .jfVnd thus my
Iprd took it for a very sign or token of that

and A garbled edition of this Ufe was first printed in t)ie year 164il,
for the purpose of prejudicing that great prelate in the minds of
the people, by insinuating a p^raUel between him and the cardinal.
It is not generally known that, beside the edition of this Ufe then
put forth, a small pamphlet was also printed with the following
title, '? A true Description or rather Parallel betweene Cardinall
Wolsey, Archbishop of York, and WUham Laud, Archbishop of
Canterbury, 1641." As it is brief, and of extreme rarity, I shall
give it a place in the Appendix.
° " But \yhat he did there, I know not." The more recent MS.
and Dr. Wordsworth's edition have this i-eading.

CARPINAL WOLSEY. 343
which after ensued, if the circumstance be equally
considered and noted, although nomari was there
present at that time that had any knowledge of
Master Walshe's coming down, or what should
foUow. Wherefore, as it was supposed, that
God showed him more secret knowledge of his
latter days and end of his trouble than all men
supposed ; which appeared right weU by divers
talks that he had with me at divers times of his
last end. And now that I have declared unto
you the effect of this prodigy and sign,. I wiU
return again to my matter.
The time drawing nigh of his staUation ; sit
ting at dinner, upon the Friday next before
Monday on the which he intended to be staUed
at York, the Earl of Northumberland and Mas
ter Walshe, with a great company of gentiemen,
as weU of the earl's servants as pf tjie country,
which he had gathered together to acpompany
him in the king's name, not knowing to what
purpose or what interitj came iritp the haU at
Cawood, the officers sitting at dinner, and my
lord not fuUy dined, but being at his fruits,
nothing knowing of the earl's bping in his haU.
The first thing that the earl did, after he came
into the castle, [he] commanded the pprtgr to
deUver him the keys pf the gates, who wpidd in
no wise deliver him the keys, although he were
very roughly commanded in the king's name, to

^44 THE LIFE OF
deliver them to one of the earl's servants. Say
ing unto the earl, " Sir, ye do intend to deliver
them to one of your servants to keep them and the
gates, and to plant another in my room ; I know
no cause why ye should so do, and this I assure
you that you have no one servant, but that I am
as able to keep them as he, to what purpose so
ever it be. And also, the keys were delivered
me by my lord my master, with a charge both
by oath, and by other precepts and command
ments. Therefore I beseech your lordship to
pardon me, though I refuse your commandment.
For whatsoever ye shall command me to do that
belongeth to my office, I shaU do it with a right
good wUl as justly as any other of your servants."
With that quoth the gentlemen there present
unto the earl, hearing him speak so stoutly like a
man, and with so good reason : " Sir," quoth
they, " he is a good feUow, and speaketh like a
faithful servant to his master ; and like an honest
man : therefore give him your charge, and let
him keep stUl the gates ; who, we doubt not, will
be obedient to your lordship's commandment."
" WeU then," quoth the earl, " hold him a book,"
and commanded him to lay his hand upon the
book, whereat the porter made some doubt, but
being persuaded by the gentlemen there present,
was contented, and laid his hand upon the book,
to whom, quoth the earl, " Thou shalt swear, to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 345
keep well and truly these gates to the king our
sovereign lord's use, and to do aU such things
as we shall command thee in the king's name,
being his highness' commissioners, and as it shall
seem to us at aU times good, as long as we shall
be here in this castie ; and that ye shall not let in
nor out at these gates, but such as ye shall be
commanded by us, from time to time," and upon
this oath he received the keys at the earl's and
Master Walshe's hands.
Of aU these doings knew my lord nothing ;
for they stopped the stairs that went up to my
lord's chamber where he sat, so that no man
could pass up again that was come down. At
the last one of my lord's servants chanced to
look down into the hall at a loop that was upon
the stairs, and returned to my lord, [and] showed
him that my Lord of Northumberland was in the
haU ; whereat my lord marveled, and would not
beUeve him at the first ; but commanded a gen
tleman, being his gentieman usher, to go down
and bring him perfect word. Who going down
the stairs, looking down at the loop, where he
saw the earl, who then returned to my lord, and
showed him that it was very he. " Then," quoth '-=
my lord, " I am sorry that we have dined, for I
fear that our officers be not stored of any plenty
of good fish, to- make him such honourable cheer
as to his estate is convenient, notwithstanding he

346 THE LIFE OF
shall have such as we have, with a right good wUl
and loving heart. Let the table be standing
stiU, and we wiU go down and meet him, and
bring him up ; and then he shaU see how far forth
we be at our dinner.'' With that he put the table
from him, and rose up ; going down he encoun
tered the earl upon the midst of the stairs, com
ing up, with all his men about him. And as
soon as my lord espied thp earl, he put off his
cap, and said to him, " My lord, ye be most
heartUy welcome ; (and therewith they embraced
each other). Although, my lord," quoth he, " that
I have often desired, and wished in my heart
to see you in my house, yet if ye had loved me
as I do you, ye wpuld have sent me word before
of your coming, to the intent that I might have
received you according to your honour and mine.
Nptwithstariding ye shaU have such cheer as I
am able to make you, with a right good wUl ;
-trusting that ye wUl accept the same of me as of
your very old and loving friend, hoping hereafter
to see you oftener, when I shaU be more able
and better provided to receive ypu with better
fare," And then my lord took the Earl of North
umberland by the hand, and led him up into
the chamber ; whom foUowed aU the earl's ser
vants ; where the table stood in the state that
my lord left it when he rose, saying unto the
earl, " Sir, now ye may perceive how far forth

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 347
we were at our dinner." Theu my lord led the
earl to the fire, saying, " My lord, ye shall go
into my bedchamber, where is a good fire made
for youj and there ye may shift your apparel
untU your chamber be made ready. Thereforelet
your male be brought up : and or ever I go, I
pray you give me leave to take these gentlemen,
your servants, by the hands." Arid when he had
taken them aU by the hands, he returned to the
earl, and said, " Ah, my lord, I perceive well that
ye have observed my old precepts and instruc
tions which I gave you, when you were abiding
with me in your youth, which was, to cherish
your father's old servants, whereof I see here
present with you a great number. Surely, my
lord, ye do therein very well and nobly, and like
a wise gentieman. For these be they that wUl
not only serve and love you, but they wUl also
live and die with you, and be true and faithful
servants tp you, and glad to see you prosper in
horiPur ; the which I beseech God to send you,
with long life." This said, he tpok the earl by
the hand, and led him into his bedchamber. And
they being there all alone, save only I, that kept
the dopr, accprding to my duty, being gentleman
usher ; these two lords standing at a window by
the chimney, in my lord's bedcliamber, the earl
trembling said, with a very faint and soft voice,
urito my lord, (laying his hand upon his arm)

348 THE LIFE OF
" My lord, I arrest you of high treason." With
which words my lord was marveUously astonied,
standing both stUl a long space without any fur
ther words. But at the last, quoth my lord,
" What moveth you, or by what authority do you
this ?" " Forsooth, my lord," quoth the earl, " I
have a commission to warrant me and my doing."
" Where is your commission ?" quoth my lord ;
" let me see it." " Nay, sir, that you may not,"
quoth the earl. " WeU then," quoth my lord,
" I will not obey your arrest : for there hath been
between some of your predecessors and mine
great contentions and debate grown upon an
ancient grudge, which may succeed in you, with
like inconvenience, as it hath done heretofore.
Therefore, unless I see your authority and com
mission, I will not obey you." Even as they
were debating this matter between them in the
chamber, so busy was Master Walshe in arrest
ing of Doctor Augustine, the physician, at the
door, within the portal, whom I heard say unto
him, " Go in then, traitor, or I shaU make thee."
And with that, I opened the portal door, and
the same being opened. Master Walshe thrust
Doctor Augustine in before him with violence.
These matters on both the sides astonished me
very sore, musing what all this should mean ; until
at the last. Master Walshe, being entered the
chamber, began to pluck off his hood, the which

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 340
he had made him with a Coat of the same cloth,
of cotton, to the intent he would not be known.
And after he had plucked it off, he kneeled down
to my lord, to whom my lord spake first, com-
manduig him to stand up, saying thus, " Sir,
here my Lord of Northumberland hath arrested
me of treason, but by what authority or com
mission he sboweth me, not; but saith, he hath
one. If ye be privy thereto, or be joined with
him therein, I pray you show me." " Indeed, my
lord," quoth Master Walshe, " if it please your
grace, it is true that he hath one." " WeU then,"
said my lord, " I pray you let me see it." " Sir,
I beseech your grace hold us excused," quoth
Master Walshe, " there is annexed unto our
commission a schedule with certain instructions
which ye may in no wise be privy unto." " Why,"
quoth my lord, " be your instructions such that
I may not see them ? Peradventure, if I might
be privy to them, I could the better help you to
perform them. It is not unknown unto you both
I am assured, but I have been privy and of coun
sel in as weighty matters as this is, for I doubt
not for my part, but I shaU prove and clear my
self to be a true man, against the expectation
of all my cruel enemies. I have an understand
ing whereupon all this matter groweth. Well,
there is no more to do. I trow, gentleman, ye
be one of the king's privy chamber ; your name.

350 THE LIFE OF
I suppose, is Walshe ; I am content to yield unto
you, but not to my Lord of Northumberland,
without I see his comrtiission. And also you are
a sufficierit commissioner yourself in that behalf,
inasmuch as ye be onfe of the king's privy cham
ber ; for the worst person there is a sufficient war
rant to arrest the greatest peer of this realrii, by
the king's only commandmentj without any com
mission. Therefore I am ready to be ordered
and disposed at your wUl, put therefore the
king's commission and your authority in execu-
tiori, a God's name, and spare riot, arid I will
obey the king's wiU and pleasure. For I fear
more the cruelty of my Unnatural enemies, than I
do my truth and allegiarice ; wherein, I take God
to witness, I never pffended the king's majesty
in word or deed ; and therein I dare stand face
to face with any man alive, having indifferency,
withPut partiality."
Then Came my Lord of NorthUriiberlarid unto
me, staridirig at this pbrtal door, and commanded
me to avPid thd chamber : and being loath to
depart from my master, [I] stood stUl, and would
not remove ; to whom he spake again, and said,
" There is no remedy, ye must needs depart."
With that I looked upon niy lOrd, (as who say-
eth, shall I go?) upon whom my lord looked
very heavily, and shook at me his head. Per
ceiving by his couriteriance it booted me not to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 351
abide, and so I departed the chamber, and went
into the next chamber, where abode many gen
tiemen of my feUows, and other, to learn bf me
some news of the matter within ; to whom I made
report what I saw and heard ; which was to them
great heaviness to hear.
Then the earl caUed divers gentlemen into the
chamber, which were for the most part his own
servants ; and after the earl and Master Walshe
had taken the keys of aU my lord's coffers fi-om
hun, they gave the chaige andcustody of my lord's
person unto these gentlemen. [And then] they
departed, and went about the house to set all
things in order that night against the next morn
ing, intending then to depart from thence (being
Saturday) with my lord ; the which they deferred
until Sunday, because aU things could not be
brought to pass as they would have it. They
went busUy about to convey Doctor Augustirie
away to London-ward, with as much speed as
they could, sending Avith him divers horiest per
sons to conduct him, who was tied urider the
horse's beUy. And this done, when it was night,
the commissioners assigned two grooms of my
lord's to attend upon him in his chamber that
night where they lay ; and the most part of the
rest of the earl's gentiemen and servants watched
in the next chamber and about the house con
tinuaUy untU the morrow, and the porter kept

35£ THE LIFE OF
the gates, so that no man could go in or out
untU the next morning. At which time my lord
rose up, supposing that he should have departed
that day, howbeit he was kept close secretly in
his chamber, expecting continually hife departure
from thence. Then the earl sent for me into his
own chamber, and being there he commanded
me to go in to my lord, and there to give at^
tendance upon him, and charged me upon an
oath that I should observe certain articles. And
going away from him, toward my lord, I met
with Mr. Walshe in the court, who called me
unto him, and led me into his chamber, and there
showed me that the king's highness bare towards
me his princely favour, for my dUigent and true
service that I daily ministered towards my lord
and master. " Wherefore," quoth he, " the king's
pleasure is, that ye shall be about your master
as most chiefest person, in whom his highness
putteth great confidence and assured trust ;
whose pleasure is therefore, that ye shall be
sworn unto his majesty to observe certain arti
cles, in writing, the which I wiU deliver you."
" Sir," quoth I, " my Lord of Northumberland
hath already sworn me to divers articles." " Yea,"
quoth he, " but my lord could not deliver you the
articles in writing, as I am commanded speciaUy
to do. Therefore, I deliver you this bill with
these articles, the which ye sball be sworn to

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 35.3
fulfil." " Sir," then quoth I, " I pray ypu to give
me leaye to peruse them, or eiver I be sworn, to
see if I be able to perform them." " With a right
good will," quoth he. And when I had perused
them, and understood that they were but reason
able and tolerable, I answered, that I was cori-
tented to obey the kuig's pleasure, and to.be
sworn to the performance of them. And so he
gave me a new oath : and then I resorted to my
lord, where he was in his chamber ' sitting in a
chair, the tables being covered for him ready to
go to dinner. But as soon as he perceived me
coming in, he feU into such a woful lamentation,
with such ruefol terms and watery eyes, that it
would have caused the flintiest heart to have re
lented and burst for sorrow. And as I and other
could, [we] comforted him ; but it would not be.
" For," quoth he, " now that I see this gentleman
(meaning me) how faithfol, how dUigent, and how
painful since the beginning of my trouble he hath
.served me, abandoning his own country, his wife,
and chUdren ; his house and famUy, his rest and
quietness, only to serve me, and remembering
with myself that I have nothing to reward him
for his honest merits grieveth me not a Uttle.
And also the sight of him putteth me in remem
brance of the number of my faithful servants,
that I have here remaining with me in this house ;
whom I did intend to have preferred ,^nd ad-
A A

354 THE LIFE OF
vanced, to the best of my power, from time to
time, as occasion should serve. But now, alas !
I am prevented, and have nothing left me here
to reward them ; for aU is deprived me, and I
am left here their desolate and miserable master,
bare and wretched, without help or succour, but
of God alone. Howbeit," quoth he to me (call
ing me by my name), " I am a true man, and
therefore ye shaU never receive shame of me for
your service." I, perceiving his heaviness and la-
mentabte words, said thus unto him : " My lord,
I nothing mistrust your truth : and for the same
I dare and wUl be sworn before the king's person
and his horiourable councU. Wherefore, (krieel-
ing upon my knees before him, I said,) my lord,
comfort yourself, and be of good cheer. The
malice of your uncharitable 'enemies, nor their
untruth, shaU never prevail agairistyourtruthand
faithfulness, for I doubt not but coming to ypur
answer, my hope is such, that ye shaU so acquit
andclear yourself of all their surmised andfeigned
accusations, that it sl^aU be to the king's con
tentation, and much to your advancement and
restitutipn of your former dignity and estate."
" Yea," quoth he, " if I may cometomine answer,
I fear no man alive ; for he Uveth riot upon the
earth that shall look upon this face (pointing to
his own face), shaU be able to accuse me of any
untruth ; and that knoweth minfe enemies full

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 355
weU, which wiU be an occasion that I shaU not
have indifferent justice, but they wiU rather seek
some other sinister ways to destroy me." " Sir,"
quoth I, *« ye need not therein 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
communication, I gave him water, and sat him
down to dinner; with whom sat divers of the
earl's gentlemen, notwithstanding my lord did eat
very little meat, but would many times burst out
suddenly in tears, with the most sorrowfoUest
words that hath been heard of any woful creature.
And at the last he fetched a great sigh from the
bottom of his heart, saying these words of scrip
ture 3, " O constantia Martirum laudahilis! O
charitas inextinguibilis ! Opacientia invincibilis,
quee licet inter pressuras persequentium visa sit
despicabilis, invenietur in laudem etgloriam ac ho-
norem in tempore tribulationis." And thus passed
he forth his dinner in great lamentation and
heaviness, who was more fed and moistened with

' The words which follow, I apprehend, are part of some eccle
siastical hymn. It was not unusual to attribute the name of Scrip
ture to aU such compositions ; and to whatever was read in churches.
" Also I said and affirmed" (the words are part of the recantation
of a WickUffite), " that I held no Scripture catholike nor holy, but
onely that is contained in the Bible. For the legends and Uves of
saints I held hem nought ; and the miracles written of hem, I held
untrue." Fox's ^ic;*, p. 591. W.
A a2

356 THE LIFE OF
sorrow and tears than with either pleasant meats
or delicate drinks. I suppose there was not a
dry eye among aU the gentlemen sitting at the
table with, him. And when the table was taken
up, it was showed my lord, that he could not
remove that night, (who expected none other all
that day), quoth he, " Even when it shaU seem
my lord of Northumberland good."
The next day, being Sunday, my lord pre
pared himself to ride when he should be com
manded ; and after dinner, by that time that the
earl had appointed aU things in good order within
the castle, it drejw fast to night. There was as
signed to attend upon him five of us, his own
servants, and no more ; that is to say I, one
chaplain, his barber, and two grooms of, his
chamber, and when he should go down the stairs
out of the great chamber, my lord demanded fpr
the rest of his servants ; the earl answered, that
they were not far ; the which he had inclosed
within the chapel, because they should not dis
quiet his departure. " Sir, I pray ypu," quoth
my lord, " let me see them or ever I depart, or
else I wUl never go out of this house." " Alack,
my Iprd," quoth the earl, " they should trouble
you ; therefore I beseech you to content your
self" " Well," quoth my lord, " then wiU I not
^depart out of this house, but I wiU see them,
and take my leave of them in this chamber." And

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 357
his servants being inclosed in the chapel, having
understanding of my lord's departing away, and
that they should not see him before his departure,
began to grudge, and to make such a rueful
noise, that the commissioners doubted some tu
mult or inconvenience to arise by reason thereof^
thought it good to let them pass out to my lord,
and that done they came to him into the great
chamber where he was, and there they kneeled
down before him ; among whom was not one dry
eye, but pitifuUy lamented their master's faU and
trouble. To whom my lord gave comfortable
words arid worthy praises for their diUgent faith
fulness and honest truth towards him, assuring
them, that what chance soever should happen
unto him, that he was a true man and a just to
his sovereign lord. And thus with a lamentable
manner, shaking each of them by the hands, was
fain to depart, the night drew so fast upon them.
My lord's mule and our horses were ready
brought into the inner court ; where we mounted,
arid coming to the gate which was shut, the
porter opened .the same to let us pass, where
was ready attending a great number of gentle
men with their servants, such as the earl as
signed to conduct and attend upon his person
that night to Pomfret, and so forth, as ye shall
hear hereafter. But to tell you of the number
of people of the country that were assembled

358 THE LIFE OF
at the gates which lamented his departing was
wondrous, which was about the number of three
thousand persons ; who at the opening of the
gates, after they had a sight of his person, cried
aU with a loud voice, " God save your grace,
God save your grace ! The foul evU take all them
that hath thus taken you from us ! we pray God
that a very vengeance may light upon them !"
Thus they ran crying after him through the town
of Cawood, they loved him so weU. For surely
they had a great loss of him, both the poor and
the rich : for the poor had of him great relief;
arid the rich lacked his counsel in any business
Jhat they had to do, which caused him to have
such love among them in the country.
Then rode he with his conductors towards
Pomfret ; and by the way as he rode, he asked
me if I had any famUiar acquaintance among the
gentiemen that rode with him. " Yea, sir," said
I, " what is your pleasure ?" " Marry," quoth he,
" I have left a thing behind me which I would
fain have." " Sir," said I, " if I knew what it
were, I would send for it out of hand." " Then,"
said he, " let the messenger go to my Lord of
Northumberland, and desire him to send me the
red buckram bag, lying in my almonry in my
chamber, sealed with my seal." With that I
departed from him, and went straight unto one
Sir Roger Lassels, knight, who was then steward

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 359
to the Earl of Northumberland (being among the
rout of horsemen as one of the chiefest rulers),
whom I desired to send some of his servants
back unto the earl his master for that purpose ;
[who] granted most gentiy my request, and sent
incontinent one of his servants unto my lord to
Cawood for the said bag ; who did so honestiy
bis message, that he brought the same to my
lord immediately after he was in his chamber
within the abbey of Pomfret ; where he lay aU
night. In which bag was no other thing en
closed but three shirts of hair, which he d^U-
vered to the chaplain, his ghostiy father, very
secretly. Furthermore, as we rode toward Pomfret, my
lord demanded of me, whither they would lead
him that night. " Forsooth, sir," quoth I, " but
to Pomfret." " Alas," quoth he, " shaU I go to
the castle, and He there, and die like a beast?"
" Sir, I can teU you no more what they dp
intend ; but I wiU enquire here among these
gentiemen of a special friend of mine who is
chief of aU their counsel."
With that I repaired unto the said Sir Roger
Lassels, knight, desiring him most earnestly ,that
he would vouchsafe tp show me, whither my lord
sbpuld gp to be lodged that night ; who answered
me again that my lord should be Ipdged within
the abbey pf Pomfret, and in none other place ;

366 THE LIFE OF
and so I reported to my lord, who was glad
thereof; so that within night we came to Pom
fret Abbey, and there lodged.,
And the earl remained stiU aU that night in
Cawood Castle, to see the despatch of the
household, and to establish aU the stuff in some
surety within the same.
The next day they removed with my lord to
wards Doncaster, desiring that he might come
thither by night,' because the people followed him
weeping and lamenting, and so they did never
theless although he came in by torchUght, cry
ing, " God save your grace, God save your grace,
my good lord cardinal," running before him with
candles in their hands, who caused me therefore
to ride hard by his mule to shadow him from the
people, arid yet they perceived him, cursing his
enemies. And thus they brought him to the
Blackfriars, within the which they lodged him
that night.
And the next day we removed to Sheffield Park,
wherethe Earl of Shrewsbury lay within thelodge,
and all the way thitherward the people cried and
lamented as they did in all places as we rode
before. And when we came into the park of
Sheffield, nigh to the lodge, my Lord of Shrews^
bury, with my lady his wife, a train of gentle
women, and all my lord's gentlemen and yeomen
standing without the gates of the lodge to attend

CARDINAL WOLSEY.

361

my lord's coming, to receive him with much
honour ; whom the earl embraced, saying these
words, " My lord," quoth he, " your grace is most
heartUy welcome unto me, and [I am] glad to
see you in my poor lodge, the which I have often
desired; and [should have been] much more
gladder, if you had come after another sort."
" Ah, my gentle lord of Shrewsbury," quoth my
lord, " I heartUy thank you : and although I have
no cause to rejoice, yet, as a sorrowfol heart
may joy, I rejoice, my chance which is so good
to come unto the hands and custody of so noble
a person, whose approved honour and wisdom
hath been always right weU known to all noble
estates. And, sir, howsoever my ungentle ac
cusers have used their accusations against me,
yet I assure you, and so before yoUr lordship,
and all the world, I do protest, that my de
meanour and proceedings hath been just and
loyal towards iny sovereign and liege lord ; bf
whose behaviour and doings your lordship hath
had good experience ; and even according to
my truth and faithfulness so I beseech God to
help me in this my calamity." " I doubt nothing
of your truth," quoth the earl, " therefore, my
lord, I beseech you, be of good cheer, and fear
not; for I have received letters from the king of
his own harid.in your favour and entertaining,
the which you shaU see. Sir, I am nothing sorry.

362 THE LIFE OF
but that I have not wherewith worthUy to re
ceive you, and to entertain you, according to
your honour and my good wUl ; but such as I
have, ye are most heartUy welcome thereto, de
siring you to accept my good wUl accordingly,
for I wUl not receive you as a prisoner, but as
my good lord, and the king's true faithful sub
ject; and here is my wife come to salute you."
Whom my lord kissed bareheaded, and aU her
gentlewomen ; and took my lord's servants by the
hands, as weU gentlemen and yeomen as other.
Then these two lords went arm and arm into the
lodge, conducting my lord into a fair chamber at
the end of a goodly gallery, within a new tower
where my lord was lodged. There was also in
the midst of the same gaUery a traverse of sarse
net drawn ; so that the one part was preserved
for my lord, and the other part for the earl.
Then departed aU the great number of gentle
men and other that conducted my lord to the
earl of Shrewsbury's. And my lord being there,
continued there eighteen days after ; upon whom
the earl appointed divers gentlemen of his ser
vants to serve my lord, forasmuch as he had a
small number of servants there to serve ; and
also to see that he lacked nothing that he would
desire, being served in his own chamber at din
ner and supper, as honourably, and with as
many dainty dishes, as he had most commonly

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 363
in his own house being at liberty. And once
every day the earl would resort unto him, and
sit with him communing upon a bench in a great
window in the gaUery. And though the earl
would right heartUy comfort him, yet would he
lament so piteously, that it would make the earl
very sorry and heavy for his grief. " Sir," said
he, "I have, and daily do receive letters from the
king, commanding me to entertain you as one
that he loveth, and highly favoureth ; whereby I
perceive ye do lament without any great cause
much more than ye need to do. And though ye
be accused (as I think in good faith unjustly),
yet the king can do no less but put you to your
trial, the which is more for the satisfying of some
persons, than for any mistrust that he hath in
your doings." " Alas !" quoth my lord to the
earl, " is it not a piteous case, that any man
should so wrongfully accuse me unto the king's
person, and not to come to mine answer before
his majesty ? For I am weU assured, my lord,
that there is no man alive or dead that looketh
in this face of mine, [who] is able to accuse me
of any disloyalty toward the king. Oh ! how
much it grieveth me that the king should have
any suspicious opinion in me, to think that I
would be false or conspire any evU to his royal
person ; who may weU consider, that I have no
assured friend in aU the world in whom I put my

364 THE LIFE Of
trust but only in his grace; for if I should gd
about to betray my sovereign lord and prince,
in whom is aU my trust and confidence before
all other persons, all men might justly think and
report, that I lacked not only grace, but also
both wit and discretion. Nay, nay, my lord, -I
would rather adventure to shed my heart's blood
in his defence, as I am bound to do, by mirie
allegiance and also for the safeguard of myself,
than to imagine his destruction ; for he is my
staff that supporteth me, and the wall that de-
fendeth me against my malignant enemies, and
all other : who knoweth best my truth before all
men, and hath had thereof best and longest ex
perience. Therefore to conclude, it is not to be
thought that ever I would go about or intend ma
liciously or traitorously to travel or wish any pre
judice or damage to his royal person or imperial
dignity ; but, as I said, defend it with the shed
ding of my heart blood, and procure aU men so
to do, and it were but only for the defence of
mine own person and simple estate, the which
mine enemies think I do so much esteem ; having
none other refuge to flee to for defence Or suc
cour, in all adversity, but under the shadow of
his majesty's wing. Alas ! my lord, I was iri a
good estate now, and in case of a quiet living
right well content therewith : but the enemy that
never sleepeth, but studieth and continually ima-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 365
gineth, both sleeping and waking, my ntter de
struction, perceiving the contentation of my
mind, doubted that their malicious and cruel
dealings would at length grow to their shame
and rebuke, goeth about therefore to prevent
the same with shedding of my blood. But from
God, that knoweth the secrets of their hearts
and of aU others, it cannot be hid, ne yet u^nre-
warded, when he shall see opportunity. For,
my good lord, if you wUl show yourself so much
my good friend, as to require the king's majesty,
by your letters, that my accusers may come be
fore . my face in hjs presence, and there that I
may make answer, I doubt not but ye shall see me
acquit myself of aU their malicious accusations,
and utterly confound them ; for they shall never
be able to prove, by any due probations, that
ever I offended the king in wiU, thought, and
deed. Therefore I desire you and most heartUy
require your good lordship, to be a mean for me,
that I may answer unto my accusers before tlie
king's majesty. The case is his ; and if their
accusations should be true, then should it touch
no man but , him most earnestiy ; wherefore it
were most convenient that he should hear it him
self in proper person. But I fear me, that they
do intend rather to dispatch me than I should
come before him in his presence ; for they be

366 THE LIFE OF
weU assured, and very certain, that my truth
should vanquish aU their untruth and surmised
accusations ; which is the special cause that
moveth me so earnestly to desire to make mine
answer before the king's majesty. The loss of
goods, the slander of my name, ne yet all my
trouble, grieveth me nothing so much as the loss
of the king's favour, and that he should have
in me such an opinion, without desert, of un
truth, that have with such travaU and pains
served his highness so justly, so painfully, and
with so faithfol a heart, to his profit and honour
at all times. And also again, the truth of my
doings against their unjust accusations proved
most just and loyal should be much to my ho
nesty, and do me more good than to attain great
treasure ; as I doubt not but it wiU, if [the case] .
might be indifferently heard. Now, my good
lord, weigh ye my reasonable request, and let
charity and truth move your noble heart with
pity, to help me in all this my truth, wherein ye
shall take no manner of slander or rebuke, by
the grace of God." " Well then," quoth my I^Qr4
of . Shrewsbury, " I wUl write to the king's ma
jesty in your behalf, declaring to him by my let
ters how grievously ye lament his displeasure
and indignation ; and what request ye make for
the trial of your truth towards his highness."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 367
Thus after these communications, and divers
others, as between them dailjr was accustomed,
they departed asunder.
Where my lord continued the space after of
a fortnight, having goodly and honourable enter
tainment, whom the earl would often require to
kUl a doe or two there in the park, who always
refused all manner of earthly pleasures and dis
ports either in hunting or in other games, but
applied his prayers continuaUy very devoutly ;
so that it came to pass at [a] certain season sit
ting at dinner in his own chamber, having at his
board's end that same day, as he divers times had
to accompany him, a mess of the earl's gentlemen
and chaplains, and eating of roasted wardens at
the end of his dinner, before whom I stood at the
. table, dressing of those wardens for him : behold
ing (rf him [I] perceived his colour often to
change, and alter divers times, whereby I judged
him not to be in health. Which caused me to
lean over the table, saying unto him softly, " Sir,
me seemeth your grace is not well at ease." He
answered again and said, " Forsooth, no more I
am ; for I am," quoth he, " suddenly taken about
my stomach, with a thing that lieth overthwart
my breast as cold as a whetstone ; the vihich. i^
but wmd ; thBrefore I pray you take up the cloth,
and make ye a short dinner, and resort shortly
again unto me." And after that the table was
taken up, I went arid sat the waita-s to dinner.

368 THE LIFE OF
without in the gaUery, and resorted again to
my lord, where 1 found him stiU sitting where
I left him very ill at ease; notwithstanding he
was in communication with the gentlemen sitting
at the board's end. And as soon as I was en
tered the chamber, he desired me to go down to
the apothecary, and to inquire of him whether
he had any thing that would break wind upward,
and according to his commandment I went my
way towards the apothecary. And by the way
I remembered one article of mine oath before
made unto Master Walshe, which caused me
first to go to the earl, and showed him both
what estate he was in, and also what he desired
at the apothecary's hand for his reUef. With
that the earl caused the apothecary to be called
incontinent before him ; of whom he demanded
whether he had any thing to break wind that
troubleth one in his breast ; and he answered
that he had such gear. " Then," quoth the earl,
" fetch me some hither." The which the apo
thecary brought in a white paper, a certain white
confection unto the earl, who commanded me to
give the assay thereof to the apothecary, and so
I did before him. And then I departed there
with bringing it to my lord, before whom I took
also the assay thereo:!^ and delivered the same
to my lord, who received the same whoUy altor
gether at once. And immediately after he had
received the same, surely he avoided exceeding

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 369
much wind upward. " Lo," quoth he, " now you
may see that it was but wind ; but by the means
of this receipt I am, I thank God, well eased :"
and so he rose from the table, and went to his
prayers, as he accustomedly did after dinner.
And being at his prayers, there came upon him
such a laske, that it caused him to go to his
stool ; and being there the earl sent for me, and
at my coming he said, " Forasmuch as I have
always perceived you to be a man, in whom my
lord your master hath great affiance ; and for my
experience, knowing you to be an hpnest man"
(with many more words of commendation than
need here to be rehearsed), said, " It is so, that
my lord, your lamentable master, hath often de
sired me to write to the king's majesty that he
iriight come unto his presence, to make answer
to his accusations ; and even so have I done ; for
this day have I received letters from his grace,
by Sh WiUiam Kingston, knight, whereby I dp
perceive that the king hath in him a very good
opinion; and upon my often request, he hath
sent for him, by the said Sir WUliam, to come
up to answer, according to his own desire ; who
is in his chamber. Wherefore now is the time
come that my lord hath often desired to try him
self and his truth, as I trust much to his honour ;
and I put no doubt in so doing, that it shaU be
for him the best journey that ever he made in all
B B

370 THE LIFE OF
his life. Therefore now would I have you to
play the part of a wise man, to break first this
matter unto him so wittUy, and in such sort,
that he might take it quietly in good part : for he
is ever so fuU of sorrow and dolor in my com
pany, that I fear me he wiU take it in evU part,
and then he doth not weU : for I assure you, and
so show him that the king is his good lord, and
hath given me the most worthy thanks for his
entertainment, desiring and commanding me
so to continue, not doubting but that he wiU
right nobly acquit himself towards his highness.
Therefore, go your ways to him, and so per
suade with him that I may find him in good quiet
at my coming, for I will not tarry long after
you." " Sir," quoth I, "I shaU, if it please your
lordship, endeavour me to accomplish your com
mandment to the best of my power. But, sir,
I doubt one thing, that when I shaU name Sir
WiUiam Kingston, he wUl mistrust that all ^^
not weU ; because he is constable of the tower,
and captain of the guard, having twenty-four of
the guard to attend upon him." " Marry it is
truth ;" quoth the earl, " what thereof, though
he be constable pf the tower ? yet he is the
most meetest man for his wisdom and discretion
to be sent about any such message. And for
the guard, it is for none other purpose but only
to defend him against all them that would in-

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 371
tend him any evil, either in word or deed ; and
also they be aU, or for the most part, such of
his old servants as the king took of late into
his service, to the intent that they should at-
tend upon him most justiy, and doth know best
how to serve him." « WeU, sir," said I, " I
wiU do what I can," and so departed toward my
lord. And at my repair I found him. sitting at the
upper end of the gallery, upon a trussing chest
of his own, with his beads and staff in his hands.
And espying me coming from the earl, he dew
manded of me what news. " Forsooth, sir,"
quoth I, " the best news that ever came to ycm ;
if your grace can take it weU." "I pray God it
be," quoth he, " what is it?" " Forsooth, sir,"
quoth I, " my Lord of Shrewsbury, perceiving
by your often communication that ye were al
ways desirous to come before the king's majesty,
and now as your most assured fiiend, hath tra
vaUed so with his letters unto the king, that the
king hath sent for you by Master Kingston and
twenty-four of the guard, to conduct you to his
highness." " Master Kingston," quoth he, re
hearsing his name 4 once or twice ; and with that

* " I know not whether or no it be worth the mentioiting here
(however we wiU put it on the adventure), but Cardinal Wolsey,
in his life time was informed by some fortune-teUers,. thai he should
have his end at "Kingston, This, his credulity interpreted of King-
B B 2

372 THE LIFE OF
clapped his hand on his thigh, and gave a great
sigh. " Sir," quoth I, " if your grace could or
would take aU things in good part, it should be
much better for you. Content yourself for God's
sake, and think that God and your friends hath
wrought for you, according to your own desire.
Did ye not always wish that ye might clear your
self before the king's person, now that God and
your frierids hath brought your desire to pass,
ye wiU not take it thankfuUy ? If ye consider
your truth and loyalty unto our sovereign lord,
against the which, your enemies cannot prevail,
the king beirig your good lord as he is, you
know well,; that the king can do no less than he
doth, you being to his highness accused of some
heinous crime, but cause you to be brought to
your trial, and there to receive according to your
demerits ; the which his highness trUsteth, and
saith no less but that you shaU prove yourself a
just man to his majesty, wherein ye have more
cause to rejoice than thus to lament, or mistrust
his favourable justice. For I assure you, your

ston on Thames j which made him alwayes to avoid the riding
through that town, though the nearest way from his house to the
court. Afterwards, understanding that he was to be committed by
the king's express order to the charge of Sir Anthony [William]
Kingston (see Henry Lord Howard in his Book against Prophecies,
chap. 28, fol. 130), it struckto his heart ; too late perceiving him
self deceived by that father of lies in his homonymous prediction."
Fuller's Church History. Book v. p. 178. W.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 373
enemies be more in doubt and fear of you, than
you of them ; that they wish that thing, that I
trust they shall never be able to bring to pass
with all their wits, the king (as I said before)
being your indifferent and singular good lord and
friend. And to prove that he so is, see you not
how he hath sent gentle Master Kingston for
you, with such men as were your old true ser
vants, and yet be as far as it becometh them to
be only to attend upon you, for the want of your
own servants, wilUng also Master Kingston to
remove you with as much honour as was due to
you in your high estate ; and to convey you by
such easy journeys as ye shall command him to
do ; and that ye shaU have all your desires and
commandments by the way in every place, to
your grace's contentation and honour. Where
fore, sir, I humbly beseech your grace, to im
print aU these just persuasions with many other
imminent occasions in your discretion, and beof
good cheer ; I most humbly with my faithful
heart . require your grace, wherewith ye shall
principaUy comfort yourself, and next give all
your friends and to me and other of your servants
good hope of your good speed." " WeU, well,
then," quoth he, " I perceive more than ye can
imagine, or do know. Experience of old hath
taught me." And therewith he rose up, and
went into his chamber, to his close stool, the flux

374 THE LIFE OF
troubled him so sore ; and when he had done he
came out. again ; and immediately my Lord of
Shrewsbury came into the gallery unto him, with
whom my lord met, and then they both sitting
down upon a bench in a great window, the earl
asked him how he did, and he most lamentably,
as he was accustomed, answered, thanking him
for his gentle entertainment. " Sir," quoth the
earl, " if ye remember ye have often wished in
my company to make answer before the king ;
and I as desirous to help your request, as you to
wish, bearing towards you my good wUl, have
written especiaUy to the king in your behalf;
making him also privy of your lamentable sorrow,
that ye inwardly receive for his high displeasure ;
who accepteth aU things and your doings therein,
as friends be accustomed to do in such cases.
Wherefore I would advise you to pluck up your
heart, and be not aghast of your enemies, who I
assure you have you in more doubt than ye
would think, perceiving that the king is fuUy
minded to have the hearing of your case before
his own person. Now, sir, if you can be of good
cheer, I doubt not but this journey, which ye
shall take towards his highness shaU be much to
your advancement, and an overthrow of your
enemies. The king hath sent for you by that
worshipful knight Master Kingston, and with
him twenty-four of your old servants, who be

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 375
now of the guard, to defend you against your
unknown enemies, to the intent that ye may
safely come unto his majesty." " Sir," quoth
my lord, " as I suppose Master Kingston is con
stable of the tower." " Yea, what of that?"
quoth the earl, " I assure you he is only ap
pointed by the king for one of your friends, and
for a discreet gentieman, as most worthy to take
upon him the safe conduct of your person ; for
without fail the king favoureth you much more,
and beareth towards you a secret special favour,
far otherwise than ye do take it." " WeUj sir,"
quoth my lord, " as God wUl, so be it. I am
subject to fortune, and to fortune I submit my
self, being a true man ready to accept such or
dinances as God hath provided for me, and there
an end : sir, I pray you, where is Master King
ston?" " Marry," quoth the earl, " if ye wUl,
I wUl send for him, who would most gladly see
you." " I pray you then," quoth my lord, " send
for him/' At whose message he came inconti
nent, and as soon as my lord espied him coming
in to the gallery, he made haste to encounter
him. Master Kingston came towards him with
much reverence ; and at his approach he kneeled
down and saluted him on the king's behalf;
whom my lord bareheaded offered to take up,
but he StiU kneeled. " Then," quoth my lord,
" Master Kingston, I pray you stand up, and

376 THE LIFE OF
leave your kneeling unto a very wretch replete
with misery, not worthy to be esteemedj but for
a vUe abject utterly cast away, without desert ;
and therefore, good Master Kingston, stand up,
or I wiU myself kneel down by you." With that
Master Kingston stood up, saying, with humble
reverence, " Sir, the king's majesty hath him
commended unto you." " I thank his highness,"
quoth my lord, " I trust he be in health, and
merry, the which I beseech God long continue."
" Yea, without doubt," quoth Master Kingston r
" and so hath he commanded me first to say
unto you, that you should assure yourself that
he beareth you as much good wUl and favour as
ever he did ; and wiUeth you to be of good cheer.
And where 5 report hath been made unto him,
that ye should commit against his royal majesty
certain heinous crimes, which he thinketh to be
untrue, yet for the ministration of justice, in
such cases requisite, and to avoid all suspect of
partiaUty [he] can do no less at the least than
to send for you to your trial, mistrusting nothing
your truth and wisdom, but that ye shall be able
to acquit yourself against aU complaints and
accusations exhibited against you ; and to take
your journey towards him at your own pleasure,
commanding me to be attendant upon you with
* tohere for whereas.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 377
ministration of due reverence, and to see your
person preserved from aU damage and incon
veniences that might ensue; and to elect all
such your old servants, now his, to serve you
by the way, who have most experience of your
diet. Therefore, sir, I beseech your grace to be
of good cheer ; and when it shaU be your good
pleasure to take your journey, I shaU give mine
attendance." " Master Kingston," quoth my
lord, " I thank you for your good news : and,
sir, hereof assure yourself, that if I were as able
and as lusty as I have been but of late, I would
not faU to ride with you in post: but, sir, I
am diseased with a flux^ that maketh me very
weak. • But, Master Kingston, all these com
fortable words which ye have spoken be but for
a purpose to bring me into a fool's paradise : I
know what is provided for me. Notwithstand
ing, I thank you for your good will and pains
taken about me ; and I shall with all speed make
me ready to ride with you to-morrow." And

° In the old garbled editions the passage stands thus : " But
alas ! I am a diseased man, having a fluxe (at which time it was
apparent that he had poisoned himself J ; it hath made me very
weak," p. 108, edit. 1641. This is a most barefaced and unwar
ranted interpolation. The words do not occur in any of the MSS.
Yet the charge of his having poisoned himsplf was repeated by
many writers among the reformers without scruple. See Tindall's
Works, p. 404). Supplications to the Queen's Majesty, fol. 7. A. D.
1555. Fox's Acts, p. 959.

378 THE LIFE OF
thus they feU into other communication, both
the earl and Master Kingston with my lord ; who
commanded me to foresee and provide that aU
things might be made ready to depart the morrow
after. I caused all things to be trussed up, and
made in a readiness as fast as they could con
veniently. When night came that we should go to bed,
my lord waxed very sick through his new dis
ease, the which caused him stiU continually from
time to time to go to the stool aU that night ;
insomuch from the time that his disease took
him, unto the next day, he had above fifty stools,
so that he was that day very weak. The matter
that he voided was wondrous black, the which
physicians caU choler adustine ; and when he
perceived it, he said to me, " If I have not some
help shortly, it will cost me my life." With that
I caused one doctor Nicholas, a physician, being
with the earl, to look upon the gross matter that
he avoided ; upon sight whereof he determined
how he should not live past four or five days ;
yet notwithstanding he would have ridden with
Master Kingston that same day, if the Earl of
Shrewsbury had not been. Therefore, in con
sideration of his infirmity, they caused him to
tarry aU that day.
And the next day he took his journey with
Master Kingston and the guard. And as soon

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 379
as they espied their old master, in such a la
mentable estate, they lamented him with weep
ing eyes. Whom my lord took by the hands,
and divers times, by the way, as he rode, he
would talk with them, sometime with one, and
sometime with another ; at night he was lodged
at a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's, called
Hardwick HaU, very evU at ease. The next day
he rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that
night, more sicker, and the next day we rode to
Leicester Abbey ; and by the way he waxed so
sick that he was divers times likely to have fallen
from his mule^ ; and being night before we came

7 " This is an affecting picture," says a late elegant writer.
" Shakspeare had undoubtedly seen these words, his portrait of
the sick and dying Cardinal so closely resembling this. But in
these words is this chronological diflSculty. How is it that Hard
wick HaU is spoken of as a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's in
the reign of Henry VIII, when it is weU known that the house of
this name between Sheffield and Nottingham, in which the Countess
of Shrewsbury spent her widowhood, a house described in the
Anecdotes of Painting, and seen and admired by every curious
traveUer in Derbyshire, did not accrue to the possessions of any
part of the Shrewsbury family tUl the marriage of an earl, who
was grandson to the cardinal's host, with Elizabeth Hardwick, the
widow of Sir WiUiam Cavendish, in the time of Queen Elizabeth ?
— The truth however is, that though the story is told to every
visitor of Hardwick HaU, that " the great chUd of honour. Cardinal
Wolsey," slept there a few nights before his death ; as is also the
story, perhaps equaUy unfounded, that Mary Queen of Scots was
confined there ; it was another Hardwick which received the weary
traveUer for a night in this his last melancholy pUgrimage. This
was Hardwick-upon-Line in Nottinghamshire, a place about as far
to the south of Mansfield as the Hardwick in Derbyshire, so much

380 THE LIFE OF
to the abbey of Leicester, where at his coming
in at the gates the abbot of the place with aU
his convent met him with the light of many
torches ; whom they right honourably received
with great reverence. To whom my lord said,
" Father Abbot, I am come hither to leave my
bones among you," whom they brought on his
mule to the stairs foot of his chamber, and there
alighted, and Master Kingston then took him by
the arm, and led hira up the stairs ; whp told
me afterwards that he never carried so heavy a
burden in all his life. And as soon as he was
in his chamber, he went incontinent to his bed,
very sick. This was upon Saturday at night ;
and there he continued sicker and sicker.
Upon Monday in the morning, as I stood by

better known, is to the north-west. It is now gone to much decay,
and is consequently omitted in many maps of the county. It is
found in Speed. Here the Earl'of Shrewsbury had a house in the
time of Wolsey. Leland expressly mentions it. " The Erie £o{
Shrewsbury^ hath a parke and manner place or lodge in it caUed
Hardewike-upon-Line, a four miles from Newstede Abbey." Ttin.
vol. V. fol. 94, p. 108. Both the Hardwicks became afterwards the
property of the Cavendishes. Thoroton tells us that Sir Charles
Cavendish, youngest son of Sir WUliam,' and father of WilUam
Duke of Newcastle, " had begun to build a great house in this
lordship, on a hiU by the forest side, near Annesly-wood-House,
when he was assaulted and wounded by Sir John Stanhope and
his men, as he was viewing the work, which was therefore thought
fit to be left off, some blood being spUt in the quarrel, then very
hot between the two families. — Thoresby's Edit, of Thoroton, vol.
ii. p. 294."  Who wrote Cavendish's Life op Wolse\ ?
p. 18.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 381
his bed side, about eight of the clock, the win
dows being close shut, having wax lights burn
ing upon the cupboard, I beheld him, as me
seemed, drawing fast to his end. He perceiving
my shadow upon the wall by his bed side, asked
who was there ? " Sir, I am here," quoth I ;
" How do you?" quoth he to me. " Very weU,
sir," quoth I, " if I might see your grace weU."
"What is it of the clock?" said he to me.
" Forsooth, sir," said I, " it is past eight of the
clock in the morning." " Eight of the clock?"
quoth he, " that cannot be," rehearsing divers
times, " eight of the clock, eight of the clock,
nay, nay," quoth he at the last, " it cannot be
eight of the clock : for by eight of the clock ye
shaU lose your master : for my time draweth near
that I must depart out of this world." With that
Master Doctor Palmes, a worshipful gentleman,
being his chaplain and ghostly father, standing
by, bade me secretly demand of him if he would
be shriven, and to be in a readiness towards God,
whatsoever should chance. At whose desire I
asked him that question. " What have you to
do to ask me any such question ?" quoth he, and
began to be very angry with me for my pre-;
sumption ; untU at the last Master Doctor took
my part, and talked with him in Latin, and so
pacified him.
And after dinner. Master Kingston sent for

382 THE LIFE OF
me into his chamber, and at my being there,
said to me, " So it is, that the king hath sent me
letters by this gentleman Master Vincent, one
of your old companions, who hath been of late
in trouble in the Tower of London for money
that my lord should have at his last departing
from him, which now cannot be found. Where
fore the king, at this gentieman's request, for
the declaration of his truth hath sent him hither
with his grace's letters directed unto me, com
manding me by virtue thereof to examine my
lord in that behalf, and to have your counsel
herein, how it may be done, that he may take it
weU and in good part. This is the chief cause
of my sending for you ; therefore I pray you
what is your best counsel to use in this matter
for the true acquittal of this gentleman ?" " Sir,"
quoth I, " as touching that matter, my simple
advice shaU be this, that your own person shall
resort unto him and visit him, and in communi
cation break the matter unto him ; and if he
wiU not tell the truth, there be that can satisfy
the king's pleasure therein ; and in anywise speak
nothing of my fellow Vincent. And I would
not advise you to tract the time with him ; for
he is very sick, and I fear me he wUl not live past
to-morrow in the morning." Then went Master
Kingston unto him ; and asked first how he
did, and so forth proceeded in communication.

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 383
wherein Master Kingston demanded of him the
said money, sajdng, " that my lord of Northum
berland hath found a book at Cawood that re-
porteth how ye had but late fifteen hundred
pounds in ready money, and one penny thereof
wUl not be found, who hath made the king privy
by his letters thereof. Wherefore the king hath
written unto me, to demand of you if you know
where it is become ; for it were pity that it should
be embezzled from you both. Therefore I shall
require you, in the king's name, to teU me the
truth herein, to the intent that I may make just
report unto his majesty what answer ye make
therein." With that my lord paused awhUe and
said, " Ah, good Lord ! how much doth it grieve
me that the king should think in me such deceit,
wherein I should deceive him of any one penny
that I have. Rather than I would. Master King
ston, embezzle, or deceive him of a mite, I would
it were moult, and put in my mouth ;" which
words he spake twice or thrice very vehemently.
" I have nothing, ne never had (God being my
judge), that I esteemed, or had in it any such
deUght or pleasure, but that I took it for the
king's goods, having but the bare use of the
same during my life, and after my death to leave
it to the king ; wherein he hath but prevented
my intent and purpose. And for this money
that ye demand of me, I assure you it is none of

384 ¦ THE LIFE OF
mine ; for I borrowed it of divers of my friends
to bury me, and to bestow among my servants,
who have taken great pains about me, like true
and faithful men. Notwithstanding if it be his
pleasure to take this money from me, I must
hold me therewith content. Yet I would most
humbly beseech his majesty to see them satisfied,
of whom I borrowed the same for the discharge
of my conscience." " Who be' they ?" quoth
Master Kingston. " That shaU I show you,"
said my lord. " I borrowed two hundred pounds
thereof of Sir John AUen of London ; and two
hundred pounds of Sir Richard Gresham ; and
two hundred pounds of the master of the Savoy ;
and two hundred pounds of Doctor Hickden,
dean of my college in Oxford ; and two hundred
pounds of the treasurer of the church of York ;
and two hundred pounds of the dean of York ;
and two hundred pounds of parson EUis my
chaplain ; and a hundred pounds of my steward,
whose name I have forgotten ; trusting that the
king wiU restore them again their money, for it
is none of mine." " Sir," quoth Master King
ston, " there is no doubt in the king ; ye need
not to mistrust that, but when the king shall be
advertised thereof, to whom I shaU make report
of your request, that his grace will do as shall
become him. But, sir, I pray you, where is this
money?" " Master Kingston," quoth he, ." I

CARDINAL WOLSEY. , 385
wUl not conceal it from the king ; I wUl declare
it to you, or I die, by the grace of God. Take
a littie patience with me, I pray you." " Well,
sir, then wiU I trouble you no more at this time,
trusting that ye wUl show me to-morrow." " Yea,
that I will. Master Kingston, for the money is
safe enough, and in an honest man's keeping ;
who wiU not keep one penny from the king."
And then Master Kingston went to his chamber
to supper.
Howbeit my lord waxed very sick, most like
liest to die that night, and often swooned, and
as me thought drew fast toward his end, until it
was four of the clock in the morning, at which
time I asked him how he did. " Well," quoth
he, " if I had any meat ; I pray you give me
some." " Sir, there is none ready," said I ; " I
wis," quoth he, " ye be the more to blame, for
you should have always some meat for me in a
readiness, to eat when my stomach serveth me ;
therefore I pray you get me some ; for I intend
this day, God wiUing, to make me strong, to the
intent I may occupy myself in confession, and
make me ready to God." " Then, sir," quoth
I, " I wUl call up the cook to provide some meat
for you ; and will also, if it be your pleasure, caU
for Master Palmes, that ye may commune with
him, untU your meat be ready." " With a good
wiU," quoth he. And therewith I went first, and
c c

386 THE LIFE OF
caUed up the cook, commanding him to prepare
some meat for my lord ; and then I went to Mas
ter Palmes and told him what case my lord was
in ; wiUing him to rise, and to resort to him with
speed. And then I went to Master Kingston, and
gave him warning, that, as I thought, he would
not Uve ; advertising him that if he had any
thing to say to him, that he should make haste^
for he was in great danger. " In good faith,"
quoth Master Kingston, " ye be to blame : for
ye make him believe that he is sicker, and in
more danger than he is." " WeU, sir," quoth I;
" ye shaU not say another day but that I gave
you warning, as I am bound to do, in discharge
of my duty. Therefore, I pray you, whatsoever
shall chance, let no negligence be ascribed to
me herein ; for I assure you his life is very short,
Do therefore now as ye think best." Yet never
theless he arose, and made him ready, and came
to him. After he had eaten of a cuUis made of
a chicken, a spoonful or two ; at the last, quoth
he, " Whereof was this cuUis made ?" " For
sooth, sir," quoth I, " of a chicken." " Why,"
quoth he, " it is fasting day, and St. Andrew's
Eve." " What though it be, sir," quoth Doctor
Palmes, " ye be excused by reason of your sick
ness?" " Yea," quoth he, "what though? IwUl
eat no more."
Then was he in confession the space of an

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 387
hour. And when he had ended his confession.
Master Kingstdn bade him good-morrow (for it
was about seven of the clock in thfe morning) ;
and asked him how he did. " Sir," quoth he,
" I tarry but the wUl and pleasure of God, to
render unto hiih my simple soul into his divine
hands." " Not yet so, sir," quoth Master King
ston, " with the grace of Godi ye shaU live, and
do very well ; if ye will be of good cheei-."
" Master Kingston, iny disease ' is such that I
cannot Uve ; I have had some experience in my
disease^ and thus it is : I have a flux with a con
tinual fever ; the nature whereof is this, that if
there be no alteratiott with me of the same within
eight days, theri must either ensue excoriation
of the entraUs, or frenzy, or else present death ;
and the best thereof is death. And as I sup
pose, this is the eighth day : and if ye see in me
no alteration, theh is there no remedy (although
I may live a day or twaine), but death, which is
the best remedy bf the thr^e." " Naj*^, sir, in
good faith," quoth Master Kingston, " you be
in such dolor and pensiveness, doubting that
thing that indeed ye need not to fear, which
maketh you much worse than ye should be."
" WeU, weU, Master Kingston," quoth he, '' I
see the matter against me how it is framed ; but
if i had served God as dUigently as I have done
the king, he would not have given me over in
c c2

388 THE LIFE OF
my grey hairs s. Howbeit this is the just reward
that I must receive for my worldly diUgence and
pains that I have had to do him service ; only
to satisfy his vain pleasure, not regarding my
godly duty. Wherefore I pray you, with aU, my
heart, to have me most humbly commended
unto his royal majesty; beseeching him in my
behalf to caU to his most gracious remembrance
aU matters proceeding between him and me from
the beginning of the world unto this day, and the
progress of the same : and most chiefly in the
weighty matter yet depending; (meaning the
matter newly began between him and good
Queen Katherine) then shaU his conscience de
clare, whether I have offended him or no. He
is sure a prince of a royal courage, and hath a
princely heart ; and rather than he wiU either
miss or want any part of his wUl or appetite, he
wUl. put the loss of one half of his realm in
danger. For I assure you I have often kneeled
before him in his privy chamber on my knees,
the space of an hour or two, to persuade him

^ Mr. Douce has pointed out a remarkable passage in Pittseot-
tie's History of Scotland (p. 261, edit- 1788,) in which there is a
great resemblance to these pathetic words of the cardinal. James V-
imagined that Sir James Hamilton addressed him thus in a dream.
" Though I was a sinner against God, I failed not to thee. Had
I been as good a servant to the Lord my God as I was to thee, I
had not died that death."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 389
from his wiU and appetite : but I could never
bring to pass to dissuade him therefrom. There
fore, Master Kingston, if it chance hereafter you
to be one of his privy counsel, as for your wis
dom and other qualities ye are meet to be, I
warn you to be weU advised and assured what
matter ye put in his head, for ye shall never put
it out again.
" And say furthermore, that I request his
grace, in God's name, that he have a vigUant
eye to depress this new pernicious sect of Lu
therans ^ that it do not increase within his do
minions through his negligence, in such a sort,
as that he shaU be fain at length to put harness
upon his back to subdue them ; as the king of
Bohemia did, who had good game, to see his
rude commons (then infected with Wickliffe's
heresies) to spoU and murder the- spiritual men
and religious persons of his realm ; the which fled
to the king and his nobles for succour against
their frantic rage ; of whom they could get no

" In the yeare 1S21, the cardinal, by virtue of his legatine au
thority, issued a mandate to all the bishops in the realme, to take
the necessary means for caUing in and destroying all books, printed
or written, containing any of the errors of Martin Luther: and
further directing processes to be instituted against all the posses
sors and favourers of such "books, heresies, &e. The mandate con
tained also a Ust of forty-two errors of Luther. See Wilkins's Coti-
cilia, vol. iii. p. 690 — 693 ; and Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials,
vol. i. p. 36 — 40. W.

390 TUE LIFE OF
help of defence or refuge, but [they] laughed
them to scorn, having good game at their spoU
and consumption, not regariling their duties nor
their own defence. And when these erroneous
heretics had subdued aU the clergy and spiritual
persons, taking the spoU of their riches, both of
churches, monasteries, and all other spiritual
things, having no more to spoU, [they] caught
such a courage of their former liberty that then
they disdained their prince and sovereign lord
with aU other noble personages, and the head
governors of the country, and began to faU in
hand with the temporal lords to slay and spoil
them, without pity or mercy, most cruelly. In
somuch that the king and other his nobles were
constrained to put harness upon their backs, to
resist the ungodly powers of those traitorous
heretics, and to defend their lives and liberties,
who pitched a field royal against them ; in which
field these traitors so stoutly encountered, the
party of them was so cruel and vehement, that
in fine they were victors, and slew the king,
the lords, and aU the gentlemen of the realm,
leaving not one person that bare the name or
port of a gentleman alive, or of any person that
had any rule or authority in the common weal.
By means of which slaughter they have lived
ever since in great misery and poverty without
a head or governor, living all in common like

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 391
wild beasts abhorred of aU Christian nations.
Let this be to him an evident example to avoid
the Uke danger, I pray you. Good Master King
ston, there is no trust in routs, or unlawfol as
semblies of the common people ; for when the
riotous multitude be assembled, there is among
them no mercy or' consideration of their bounden
duty ; as in the history of King Richard the Se
cond, one of his noble progenitors, which [lived]
in that same time of Wickliffe's seditious opi
nions. Did not the commons, I pray you, rise
against the king and the nobles of the realm
pf England ; whereof some they apprehended,
whom they without mercy or justice put to death?
and did they not faU to spoUing and robbery, to
the intent they might bring aU things in com
mon ; and at the last, without discretion or re
verence, spared not in their rage to take the
king's most royal person out of the Tower of
London, and carried him about the city most
presumptuously, causing him, for the preserva
tion of his life,- to be agreeable to their lewd
proclamations ? Did not also the traitorous he
retic. Sir John Oldcastle, pitch a field against
King Henry the Fifth, against whom the king
was constrained to encounter in his royal per
son, to whom God gave the victory? Alas!
Master Kingston, if these be not plain precedents,
and sufficient persuasions to admonish a prince

992 THE LIFE OF
to be circumspect against the semblable mis
chief; arid if he be so negUg^nt, then will God
strike and take from him his power, and diminish
his regality, taking from him his prudent coun
sellors and valiant captains, and leave us in our
own hands without his help and aid ; and then
wUl ensue mischief upon mischief, inconvenience
upon inconvenience, barrenness and scarcity of
aU things for lack of good order in the common
wealth, to the utter destruction and desolation
of this noble realm, from the which mischief God
of his tender mercy defend us.
" Master Kingston, fareweU. I can no more^
but wish aU things to have good success. My
time draweth on fast. I may not tarry with you.
And forget not, I pray you, what I have said
and charged you withal : for when I am dead,
ye shall peradventure remember iny words much
better." And even with these words he began
to draw his speech at length, and his tongue to
fail ; his eyes being set in his head, whose sight
failed him. Then we began to put him in re
membrance of Christ's passion ; and sent for the
abbot of the place to anneal ' him, who came

' To administer the extreme unction. " Thefyfth sacrament is
anoyntynge of seke men, the whiche oyle is halowed of the bysshop,
and mynystred by preestes to them that ben of lawfuU age, in grete
peryll of dethe : in lyghtnes and abatynge of theyr sikenes, yf God

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 393
with aU speed, and ministered unto him all the
service to the same belonging ; and caused also
the guard to stand by, both to hear him talk
before his death, and also to witness of the same ;
and incontinent the clock struck eight, at which
time he gave up the ghost, and thus departed
he this present life 2. And caUing to our re
membrance his words, the day before, how he
said that at eight of the clock we should lose our

wyU that they lyve; and in forgyvynge of theyr venyal synnes,
and releasynge of theyr payne, yf they shal deye." Festival, fol.
171. W.
" He died Nov. 29, 1.530. Le Neve's Fasti, p. 310.
According to the superstitious credulity of that age, the death of
Wolsey was said to have been preceded by a portentous storm. See
Letters from the Bodleian, Vol. u. page 17. In a letter from
Dr. Tanner to Dr. Charlett, dated Norwich, Aug. 10, 1709, is the
foUowing passage :
" On the other side is a coeval note at the end of an old MS. be
longing to our cathedral, of the odd exit of the great Cardinal
Wolsey, not mentioned, I think, in Cavendish, or any of the ordi
nary historians,— much like OUver's wind.
" Anno Xti, 1S30, nocte immediate sequente quartum diem No-.
vemb. veheinens ventus quasi per totam AngUam accidebat, et die
proximo sequente quinto sc. die ejusdem mensis circa horam pri-
mam post meridiem captus erat Dnus Thomas Wulsye CardinaUs
in ffidibus suis de Cahow [Cawood] infra Diocesam suam Ebora-
censem ; et postea in itinere ejus versus Londoniam vigiUa St. An
drew prox.. sequente apud Leycestriam moriebatur, quo die ventus
quasi GehennaUs tunc fere per totam Angliam accidebat, cujus ve-
Tiementia apud Leystoft infra Dioc. Norwicensem et aUbi in di-
versis locis infra Regnum AngUse. multae naves perierunt."
Adfinem Annalium Bartholomai Cotton. MS. in Biblioth. Eccl.
Caih. Norwic. habetur hcec notata.

394 THE LIFE OF
master, one of us looking upon an other, sup
posing that he prophesied of his departure.
Here is the end and fall of jride and arrd-
gancy^ of such_menjL exalted by fortune to ho
nours and high dignities ; for I assure you, in
his time of authority and glory, he was the
haughtiest jaan in all-his-procfifidings that then
lived, having more respect to the worldly honour
of his person than he had to his spiritual pro
fession ; wherein should be all meekness, humi
lity, and charity ; the process whereof I leave to
them that be learned and seen in divine laws ^.
After that he was thus departed. Master King
ston sent an empost to the king, to advertise
him of the death of the late Cardinal of York by
one of the guard, that both saw and heard him
talk and die. And then Master Kingston calling
me unto him and to the abbot, went to consulta
tion for the order of his burial.
After divers communications, it was thought
good, that he should be buried the next day fol
lowing; for Master Kingston would not tarry
the return of the empost. And it was forther

' The exceUent author of the dissertation on this life doubted
whether this passage was not an interpolation, because " Wolsey
is spoken of in terms so different from those used in other parts of
the book." But it is onlje:ajMaefjj>f-thfc intfigyity. of the l)iograph%,
whpjejpr^htjieart^ and devpvjt catholic spirit wouJ3 not conceal
the truth. ' . — — ,  „

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 395
thought good that the mayor of Leicester and
his brethren should be sent for, to see him per
sonally dead, in avoiding of false rumours that
might hap to say that he was not dead but stUl
Uving. Then was the mayor and his brethren
sent for ; and in the mean time the body was
taken out of the bed -^here he lay dead ; who
had upon him, next his body, a shirt of hair,
besides his other shirt, which was of very fine
Unen HoUand cloth ; this shirt of hair was un
known to all his servants being continuaUy at
tending upon him in his bedchamber, except
to his chaplain, which was his Ghostly Father ;
wherein he was buried, and laid in a cofiin of
boards, having upon his dead corpse aU such
vestures and ornaments as he was professed in
when he was consecrated bishop and archbishop,
as mitre, crosses, ring, and paU, with aU other
things appurtenant to his profession. And lying
thus aU day in his coffin open and bare&ced, that
aU men might see him Ue there dead without
feigning; then when the mayor, his brethren,
and aU other had seen him, lying thus untU four
or five of the clock at night, he was carried so
down into the church with great solemnity by
the abbot and convent, with many torches light,
singing such service as is done for such funerals.
And being in the church the corpse was set in
our lady chapel, with many and divers tapers of

396. THE LIFE OF
wax burning about the hearse, and divers poor
men sitting about the same, holding of torches
light in their hands, who watched about the dead
body all night, whilst the canons sang dirige,
and other devout orisons. And about four of the
clock in the morning they sang mass. And that
done, and the body interred. Master Kingston,
with us, being his servants, were present at his
said funeral, and offered at his mass. And by
that time that aU things were finished, and all
ceremonies that to such a person were decent
and convenient, it was about six of the clock in
the morning.
Then prepared we to horseback, being St. An
drew's Day the. Apostle, and so took our journey
towards the court 4, being at Hampton Court ;
where the king then lay. And after we came thi
ther, which was upon St. Nicholas' Eve, we gave,
attendance upon the councU for our depeche.
Upon the morrow I was sent for. by the king
to come to his grace ; and being in Master King
ston's chamber in the court, had knowledge
thereof, and repairing to the king, I found him
shooting at the rounds in the park, on the back-

^ This passage follows in the mpre recent MSS. " riding that same
day, being Wednesday, to Northampton ; and the next day to Dun
stable ; and the next day to London ; where we tarried untill St.
Nicholas Even, and then we rode to Hampton Court,"

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 397
side of the garden. And perceiving him occu
pied in shooting, thought it not my duty to trou
ble him : but leaned to a tree, intending to stand
there, and to attend his gracious pleasure. Be
ing in a great study, at the last the king came
suddenly behind me, where I stood, and clapped
his hand upon my shoulder; and when I per
ceived him, I feU upon my knee. To whom he .
said, caUing me by name, " I wiU," quoth he,
" make an end of my game, and then wUl I talk
with you :" and so -departed to his mark, whereat
the game was ended.
Then the king delivered his bow unto the
yeoman of his bows, and went his way inward
to the palace, whom I foUowed; howbeit he
caUed for Sir John Gage, with whom he talked,
until he came at the garden postern gate, and
there entered; the gate being shut after him,
which caused me to go my ways.
And being gone but a little distance the gate
was opened again, and there Sir Harry Norris
caUed me again, commanding me to come in to
the king, who stood behind the door in a night
gown of russet velvet, furred with sables ; before
whom I kneeled down, being with him there all
alone the space of an hour and more, during
which time he examined me of divers weighty
matters, concerning my lord, wishing that liever

398 THE LIFE OF
than twenty thousand pounds that he had lived.
Then he asked me for the fifteen hundred pounds,
¦Which Master Kingston moved to my lord befoi-e
his death. " Sir," said I, " I think that I can tell
your grace partly where it is." " Yea, can you?"
quoth the king ; " then I pray you teU me, and
you shaU do us much pleasure; nor it shall
not be unrewarded." " Sir," said I, " if it please
your highness, after the departure of David Vin
cent from my lord at Scroby, who had then the
custody thereof, leaving the same with my lord
in divers bags, sealed with my lord's seal, [he]
dcUvered the same money in the same bags
sealed unto a certain priest (whom I named to
the king). Safely to keep to his use." " Is this
true?" quoth the king. " Yea, sir," quoth 1,
" without all doubt. The priest shall not be
able to deny it in my presence, for I was at the
delivery thereof *." " WeU then," quoth the
king, " let me alone, and keep this gear secret
'' between yourself and me, and let no man be
privy thereof; for if I hear any more of ity then
I know by whom it is come to knowledge."

5 Here is another addition, in the more recent MSS. to the fol
lowing effect : " Who hath gotten diverse other rich ornaments into
his hands, the which be not rehersed or registered in any of my lords
books of inventory, or other writings, whereby any man is able to
charge him therewith, but only I."

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 399
" Three may," quoth he^ " keep counsel, if two
be away ; and if I thought that my cap knew my
counsel, I would cast it into the fire and burn it. ^
And for your truth and honesty ye shaU be one
of our servants, and in that same room with us,
that ye were with your old master. Therefore
go to Sir John Gage our vice chamberlain, to
whom I have spoken already to give you your
oath, and to admit you our servant in the same
room ; and then go to my Lord of Norfolkj and
he shaU pay you aU your whole year's wages,
which is ten pounds, is it not so?" quoth the
king. " Yes, forsooth, sire," quoth I, " and I am
behind thereof for three quarters of a year."
" That is true," quoth the king; " for so we be
informed, therefore ye shaU have your whole
year's wages, with our reward delivered you by
the Duke of Norfolk." The king also promised
me furthermore, to be my singular good and
gracious lord, whensoever occasion should serve.
Atid thus I departed from him.
And as I went I met with Master Kingston
coming from the councU, who commanded me in
their names to go straight unto them, whom they
had sent for by him, " And in any wise," quoth
he; " for God's sake, take good heed what ye
say ; for ye shaU be examined of such certain
words as my lord your late master had at his

400 THE LIFE OF
departure, and if you teU them the truth," quoth
he, " what he said, you shaU undo yourself; for
in any wise they would not hear of it : therefore
be circumspect what answer ye make to their
demands." " Why, sir," quoth I, " how have ye
done therein yourself?" " Marry," quoth he, " I
have utterly denied that ever I heard any such
words; and he that opened the matter first is
fled for fear ; which was the yeoman of the
guard that rode empost to the king from Lei
cester. Therefore go your ways, God send you
good speed ; and when you have done, come to
me into the chamber of presence, where I shall
tarry your coming to see how you speed, and to
know how ye have done with the king."
Thus I departed, and went directly to the
councU chamber door ; and as soon as' I was
come, I was called in among them. And being
there, my, Lord of Norfolk spake to me first, and
bade me welcome to the court, and said, " My
lords, this gentleman hath both justly and pain-
fidly served the cardinal his master like an ho
nest and diUgent servant ; therefore I doubt not
but of such questions as ye shaU demand of him,
he will make just report, I dare undertake the
same for him. How say ye, it is reported that
your master spake certain words, even before
his departure out of this life; the truth wherCof

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 401
I doubt not ye know ; and as ye know, I pray
you report ; and fear not for no man. Ye shall
not need to swear him, therefore go to, how say
you, is it true that is reported ?" " Forsooth,
sir," quoth I, " I was so diligent attending more
to the preservation of his Ufe than I was to note
and mark every word that he spake : and, sir,
indeed, he spake many idle words, as men in
such extremities do, the which I cannot now re
member. If it please your lordships to call be
fore you Master Kingston, he wUl not faU to show
you the truth." " Marry, so have we done , al
ready," quoth they, " who hath been here pre-
sentiy before us, and hath denied utterly that
ever he heard any such words spoken by your
master at the time of his death, or at any time
before." " Forsooth, my lords," quoth I, " then
I can say no more ; for if he heard them not,
I could not hear them ; for he heard as much
as I, and I as much as he. Therefore, my
lords, it were much folly for me to declare any
thing of untruth, which I am not able to justify."
" Lo ! " quoth my Lord of Norfolk, " I told
you as much before ; therefore go your ways :"
quoth he to me, " you are dismissed, and come
again to my chamber anon, for I must needs
talk with you."
I most humbly thanked them, and so de-
D D

402 THE LIFE OF
parted ; and went into the chamber of presence
to meet with Master Kingston, whom I found
standing in communication with an ancient gen
tleman, usher of the king's privy chamber, called
Master RadcUffe. And at my coming, Master
Kingston demanded of me, if I had been with
the counsel ; and what answer I made them. I
said againj that I had satisfied them sufliciently
with my answer ; and told him the manner of it.
And then he asked me how I sped with the
king ; and I told him partly of our communica
tion ; and of his grace's benevolence and princely
liberality ; and how he commanded me to go to
my Lord of Norfolk. As we were speaking of
him, he came from the councU into the chamber
of presence; as soon as he espied me, he came
unto the window, where I stood with Master
Kingston and Master Radcliffe ; to whom I de
clared the king's pleasure. These two gentlemen
desired him to be my good Iprd. " Nay," quoth
he, " I will be better unto him than ye wene ;
for if I could have spoken with him before he
came to the king, I would have had him to my
service; (the king excepted) he should have
done no man service in aU England but only me.
And look, what I may do for you, I wiU do it
with right good wUl." " Sir, then," quoth I,
" would it please your grace to move the king's

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 403
majesty in my behalf, to give me one of the carts
and horses that brought up my stuff with my
lord's (which is now in the tower), to carry, at
into my country." " Yea, marry, wiU I," quoth
he, and returned again to the king ; for whom I
tarried stUl with Master Kingston. And Master
Radcliffe, who said, that he would go in and
help my lord in my suit with the king. And
incontinent my lord came forth, and showed me,
how the king was my good and gracious lord ;
and had given me six of the best horses that I
could choose amongst all my lord's cart horses,
with a cart to carry my stuff, and five marks for
my costs homewards ; and " hath commanded
me," quoth he, " to deUver you ten pounds for
your wages ; being behind unpaid;, and twenty
pounds for a reward ;" who commanded to call
for Master Secretary to make a warrant for aU
these things. Then was it told him, that Master
Secretary was gone to Hanworth for that night.
Then commanded he one of the messengers of
the chamber to ride, unto him in aU haste for
those warrants ; and wiUed me to meet with him
the next day at London ; and: there to receive
both my money; my stuff, and horses, that the
king gave me : and so I did ; of whom I received
all things according, and then I returned into
my country. D D 2

404 THE LIFE OF
And thus ended the life of my late lord and
master, the rich and triumphant legate and
cardinal of England, on whose soul Jesu have
mercy ! Amen.
Finis quod G. C.

Who list to read and consider, with an indif
ferent eye, this history, may behold the wondrous
mutability of vain honours, the bridle assurance
of abundance; the uncertainty of dignities, the
fiattering of feigned friends, and the tickle trust
to worldly princes. Whereof this lord cardinal
hath felt both of the sweet and the sour in each
degree ; as fieeting from honours, losing of riches,
deposed from dignities, forsaken of friends, and
the inconstantness of princes favour ; of all which
things he hath had in this world the full felicity,
as long as fortune smiled upon him : but when
she began to frown; how soon was he deprived
of all these dreaming joys and vain pleasures.
The which in twenty years with great travaU,
study, and pains, obtained, were in one year and
less, with heaviness, care, and sorrow, lost and
consumed. O madness ! O foolish desire ! O

CARDINAL WOLSEY. 405
fond hope ! O greedy desire of vain honours,
dignities, and riches ! Oh what inconstant trust
and assurance is in roUing fortune ! Wherefore
the prophet said fuU weU, Thesauri%at, et ignorat,
cui congregabit ea. Who is certain to whom he
shaU leave his treasure and riches that he hath
gathered together in this world, it may chance
him to leave it unto such as he hath purposed ?
but the wise man saith. That an other person,
who peradventure he hated in his life, shall spend
it out, and consume it.

THE END.

ADDITIONAL NOTES
TO THE
LIFE OF WOLSEY.

Page 95. Tlie Letter of Anstis, referred to in the note, is
addressed to Fiddes, and is printed in his CoUections. It
relates to a rude representation of the House of Lords in the
reign of King Henry VIII. but that learned herald and an
tiquary has made it the vehicle of some observations, which
may not be misplaced here.
" Almost every action of Wolsey hath been interpreted
as an instance of pomp, ambition, or insolence ; notwith
standing, probably, upon a strict examination, most of them
v^ be found to be strictly precedented. This particular of
ttvo crosses gave Polydore Virgil an opportunity of making
an uncharitable reflection : " Non contentus una cruce, qua
utebatur, quod Archiepiscopus esset Eboracensis, alteram
prae se ferri voluit, per duos sacerdotes statura elegantes, et
equis magnis insidentes, qui aperto capite, quocunque anni
tempore incederent. Nunc plane constat Wolsaeum suae sibi
conscium esse culpae, qui propterea binas in pompa habet
cruces, quod una non satis foret ad ejus expianda commissa."
Anstis then cites the passage from Roy's satire, which he
mistakingly attributes to Skelton ; and proceeds thus : " Here
is a long catalogue, and yet possibly not one particular is
singular to the cardinal. For the same honours, according
to the knowm customs of Rome, were to be paid to every
Legate de Latere as to the sovereign pontiff himself: Nay, he
might of right use all papal ensigns and ornaments, for which
Parisius (De Resignat. L. 7- qu- 13- n. 6 et 7) produces the
vouchers."

408 ADDITIONAL NOTES.
" I know not virhat vcas the figure of the pillars here men
tioned; but it was not an unusual ensign, because Chaucer,
in the Plowman's Tale, v. 2044, setting forth the duty of a
clergyman, says thus :
And usiii none yerthly honours,
Ne croune, ne iurious covertours,
Ne pillar, ne other proud pall, &c.
According to the present customs in this country, no one
will charge the cardinal's riding on a mule to be a mark of his
insolence or haughtiness, neither was it any testimony of his
humility, but a usage of his age, in correspondence to the
ancient practice of clergymen, who esteemed it unbecoming
them to ride upon a horse, when our Saviour rode on the
foal of an ass. Thus St. Basil on Psalm 32, Exclusus est
ab usu sanctorum equus. And here I cannot forbear from
diverting you with the odd simplicity of the style wherein
Peraldus (Summee de Superbia, torn. 2) expresses himself on
this occasion : " Christus nunquam equitavit, tantum semel
asinavit, atque adeo neque mulavit, neque palafredavit, neque
dromedariavit." His sentiment was as of some other rigid
disciplinarians at that time, that the clergy should travel on
foot. It is weU known that our judges^ till the first year of
Queen Mary, rode always to Westminster on mules, (v.
Dugdal. Orig. Juridic. p. 38). Christopher Urswicke, who
had been Dean of Windsor, in his will made 10 Oct. 1521,
devises to Mr. Cuthbert Tunstall, Maister of the Rolls, " his
gowne of blacke furred with martron, his typpet of sarcenet
furred with sables, and his little mule with saddle and bridle
and all hir barneys." (Lib. Mainwaryng, in Cur. Praerog.)
And upon the motive of an affected humility it doubtless
was that John de Beverle, in his will dated 1380, " Volo
quod corpus meum sit ductum ab hospitio meo per duos
asinos, si possint inveniri." (Registr. Beckingham Episcopi
L incoln.) The sumptuary law for apparel, 24 Hen. 8. c. 13,
prohibits all persons to wear upon their horse, mule, or other
beast, any silk of purpure, &c. Of the custom of the clergy,
see Bede Eccles. Hist. 1. 3, c. 14, and 1. 4, c. 3 : and that
they first began to ride on mares, 1. 2, c. 13, unless there

ADDITIONAL NOTES. 409
he some error in the print. As to Cardinals, David Chambre,
in his History of the Popes abridged, acquaints us that In
nocent IV. gave them liberty to ride on horseback, and that
Pope Clement V. ordained they should ride upon asses, ac
cording to the example of our Saviour.
But these rich trappings and housings of the cardinal's mule
may give offence ; herein he could justify himself by an
especial privilege to those of his degree : — Equitare mulas
phaleratas, et clavam argenteam ante se deferre (Cohelii
Notitia Cardinalatus, p. 28). Here then is a poleaxe or mace
also, and the same author, p. 30, acquaints us that in the
Roman court the cardinals " dum equitant mulas, praemit-
tunt apparitores cum argenteis clams et bulgis ab acupic-
toribus gentilitiis insignibus auro et argento redimitis, necnon
famulos duos pedissequos (parafrsenarios vocant) baculis duo-
bus iimixos."

Page 137- The circumstances attending the interception of
De Praet's dispatches, mentioned in the note, are thus related
in a letter of Wolsey's to Mr. Sampson, printed in the Appen
dix to Gait's Life of Wolsey, p. civ. No. vi. 4to. 1812.
" It hath bene of a long season, and from sundry parts,
reported unto the king's hignes and to me at divers times,
that Mon*' de Praet, who resideth here ambassador for the
emperor, hath continually bene a man disposed and inclined
to make, in his letters and vratings, both to the emperor and
the Lady Margaret, seditious and sinister reports ; saying
many times, upon his own fantasie, suspicion, and conjecture,
things clearly untrue, and compassing at other times, when
things have been done, sayd, or set forth, frendly, kindlie, and
lovinglie, soe to cowch his reports, and the circumstances
of the doings thereof, as though the gratuities shewed by
the king's highnes, have from time to time been conduced
by the industrie, pollicy, and labour of the sayd ambassa
dors; ascribing, therefore, the laude and thank therof unto
himself, wherby he might acquire the more grace and favor
of the sayd emperor and Lady Margaret. To these things

410 ADDITIONAL NOTES,
the kings highnes and I were not over hasty to give soone
creddence ; but supposing the sayd ambassador to be a
p''sonage of more vertue and inclinacion to good then now he
proveth to be, I would some times admonish him, in general
words of such advertisement ; exhorting and advising him to
be well ware how he, being a minister betwene two princes
so neerly conjoined in inteUigence, should attempt or doe any
thing to the hinderance thereof; but rather, regarding the
office of a good ambassador to doe that in him is for the
nourishing and increase of the same. Wherein he alwayes
made me such answere that I conceaved noe further suspicion
or jealousy towards him in that behalfe ; being therefore the
more f ranke and plaine with him in all my conferences, as he,
that for the singuler good mind which I have alwayes borne
unto the emperors honor, weale, and suretie, would precede
with his majestic, sincerelie, plainely, and truelie. And as
familiarly, kindly, and lovinglie hath the kings highnes and
I admitted, entertayned, and used the sayd de Praet at all
times, as the most hearty love betwene the kings highnes and
his majestie doth require, making him privie^ and having him
present, at all such comunicacions and accesses have bene
of other princes ambassadors, or of any matter worthy adver
tisement or knowledge, to the intent that he should make most
credible and plaine relacion thereof unto th'emperor and other
to whom it appertained."
************* ^ He then relates, that upon one occasion he sent for the
ambassador " to make him participant of such newes as the
kings highnes and I had received, as also to understand
whether he had any good newes in confirmation of the same."
And after a long communication, he '' seeming to be joyous
and well contented, giving me thanks on the emperors behalfe,
departed." " Three days before that, as many times is here accus
tomed, it was appointed that, as that night follovnng, which
was the xj* day at night, a privie watch should be made in
London, and by a certaine cercoute and space about it: in
the which wateh was taken, passing between London and

ADDITIONAL NOTES. 411
Brainfoi-d, by certaine of the wateh appointed to that quarter,
one ryding towards the said Brainford; who, examined by
the watch, answered soe closely, that upon suspicion thereof
they searched him, and found< seacretly hid about him a little
pacquet of letters, subscribed in French, which the sayd
watch p'-ceaving, brought the letters unto a man of lawes
clarke, being of the same company ; who, supposing the bearer
of them to be either a spie or a messenger from some merchant,
stranger, or other,' intendinge to disclose things unto the em
peror, and prceaving the sayd pacquet to be in the taking
of it, byi the unlearned men of the watch, broken and evil
handled, looked in tlie letters. And thinking the same, by
reason of the ciphers, more suspect, brought it unto the king's
solicitor, being in the same watch ; who not acquainted with
the name of the sayd de Praet, brought the letters soe opened
unto Sir Thomas Moore, being in another watch neere unto
the same ; and he presented them, in the morning following,
unto me, being in the chancery at Westminster ; -w^ch, when
I had read, knowing how farr the effect of them was discrepant
from the truth, anon I conceived the former advtisements
made unto me touching the said ambassadors accustomed
usage in making sinister reports, to be true. And pi^ceyving
by the sayd letters, that albeit the usage is not here that
strangers should passe through the realme without a pasisport;
yet one of the foulkes was depeched by the sayd ambassador
the day before with letters towards Spaine, — 'wherin it was
like there might- be as evill or worse report then in these,
I with all diligence sent to countermande the sayd former
letters, or any other depeched at that time by the sayd am
bassador. And soe was taken also a pacquet of his letters
directed to my Lady Margsiret, which original letters directed
unto th'emperor, with copies of those addressed unto my Lady
Margaret, viewed and overlooked, and the xmtruth mencioned
in them deprehended, I send unto your hands herewith,' as
well because th'emperor may know such things as his folkes
on this side doe advertise his majestie of, which may conferr
to the furtherance of his affaires ; as also, because the same

412 ADDITIONAL NOTES.
may hereby the more assuredlie and p'fectlre understand and
p'"ceave that the sayd de Praet hath of lykelyhood contrived
noe few matters untrue and fayned in his letters sent of, a
long season, as well into Spayne as into Flanders. Wherof
there is, much apparance, by reason of such proceeding,
strange demeanour, and suspicion, as hath seemed to have
bene had towards the kings grace, both on that side arid in
Flanders .of a good season, soe that it is evident to be con
jectured that the sayd de Praet hath done more hurt, de
triment, and damage, by his evil reports in the comon affaires,
then ever he can be able to reduble or amend ; and surely has
by the same deserved much more blame than I will reherse."
He then enters into detail of the misrepresentations of De
Praet, who, he says, would have long since been denounced
to the emperor as " a man of insufficient qualities, inexpert
and. far unmeet to be ambassador from so great a prince," had
it not been out of courtesy to that potentate and his council.
And further, that " De Praet being not a little abashed, ne
vidthout cause, made first exception at the intercepting of his
letters, as he would not give credence to the manner of their
interception, and the opening of them by a fortunate error, as
is aforesayd, saying that ambassadors doe write unto their
princes that which in their conceipt is thought good, referring
the judgment unto others. He affirmed also, that till this
time it could not ne should be ever found in, any, of his letters,
that he hath made eviU report either of the king's highnes or
of me, as by his original letters, which he sayd he desired and
would be gladd should and might be showed, he would be
judged, and that the cause and occasion moving him thus to
write at this time, was only the being here of John Joachym
by viij moneths, the difficulty made to condescend unto the
truce proposed at Rome, the not advancing of an army on this
side, as was spoken of, and the refusal of the kings highnes
to contribute any thing to the defence of Italy."
To this Wolsey states the long and circumstantial answer
he gave, in which he asserts that he was not privy to Joachinos'
coming, and that it was some time after his arrival that- he.

ADDITIONAL NOTES. 413
disclosed to him what he was, and that as soon as he discovered
himself to be sent from the Lady Regent, he made de Praet
privy thereto, praying him to advertise the Lady Margaret
and the emperor, as he also would do and did.
To this he states ' that De Praet could make no other an
swer than that he vn-ote his fantasy, and remitted the judgment
to wiser men.' The whole letter is well worth attention as
an example of Wolsey's talent in diplomacy ; and though his
apology is not very convincing, it must be confessed to be very
skilful and ingenious.

FINIS.

APPENDIX.

EXTRACTS FROM THE LIFE

THE VIRTUOUS CHRISTIAN AND RENOWNED
QUEEN ANNE BOLEIGNE.
BY GEORGE WYATT, ESQ.
i
WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
FROM THE MANUSCRIPT COLLECTIONS OF THE REV. JOHN LEWIS.

E E

Great princes favourites their fair leaves spread,
Bat as the marigold at the sun's eye ;
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
Shakspease.

Among the other calumnies with which the memory of
the wn/brtunate Queen Anne Boleyn has been aspersed
by the enemies of the Refbrtrmtion, it has been said —
" that she had kmg carried on a criminal intercourse
with Sir Thomas Wyatt the poet ; who, we are told, had
gone so far as to coTifess to tlte hvrtg that he had de
bauched her ; and had urged ihiSj in the first instance,
as an argument to disstiade the king from mmrryiaig
her!" The story requires no refutation; but Wyatt's
name having been called in question when Anne Boleyn's
conduct zvas scrutinized, gave the forgers of fabuhtts
history an opportunity of engraftimg their libellous in
ventions on slight circumstances, in order to give them
somMhing of the colour of probability. How far there
was any foundation for these calu/mnies will now appear.
The foTkmmg interesting pages were written, it is pre
sumed, by the grandson of the poet, George Wyatt,
Esquire, sixth son and heir of Sir Thomas Wyatt the
younger, who was beheaded for rebellion in the first year
of the reign of Queen Mary. The writer died at the
advanced age of eighty, at Boxley in Kent, in the year
1624, and seems to have meditated a complete exposure
of suchpa/rts of Saunders' Booh on the Reformation as
came within his own immediate knowledge. He was
maternal uncle to Sir Roger Twysden, and in 1623 com
municated to him part of his collections. A fragment
of the Life of Cardinal Wolsey, by George Cavendish,
was in the late Mr. Bindley' s libra/ry, to which we have
already referred, at p. 120 of the present edition ; prefixed
to which wa's the following note by Sir Roger Twysden. —
E E 2

420
" / receaved this from my uncle Wyatt, Anno 1623, who
beeing yonge had gathered many notes towching this
lady, not without an intent to have exposed Saunders.""
It is remarhaMe that this fragment from Wolsey's Ufe
has been twice printed as apiece of original and OMthentic
cotemporary history, without suspicion of its being an
extract from Cavendish ; — the first time for private dis
tribution, in 1808, amd secondly by Dr. Nott, in his ap
pendix to Wyatt's Poems, iw 1816.
The manuscript from which the present very interesting
memoir is printed was purchased at the late Sir Peter
Thompson's sale. It is in the hand writing of the Rev.
John Lewis, of the Isle of Thanet, the celebrated anti
quary. It was printed in ISYt for a few noblemen and
gentlemen, but twenty-seven copies only having been talcen
off, may be considered still to have almost the rarity of a
manuscript.

SOME PARTICULARS

LIFE OF QUEEN ANNE BOLEIGNE.

The peculiar means that I have had, more than
others, to come to some more particular knowledge of
such tilings as I intend to handle, ought to draw thus
much from me ; yet much more the request of him that
hath been by authority set on work in this important
business, both for the singular gifts of God in him, of
wisdom, learning, integrity, and virtue; and also the
encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend
my Lord of Canterbury's grace, to set down what under
standing I have had of this matter, is both my warrant,
and a bond the more upon my conscience, to hold me
urged and constrained not to neglect such an opportunity
of my service to the church, my prince, and country.
Principally his desire was, and my purpose in satisfying
it, to deliver what I knew, touching certain things that
happened to the exceUent lady, the Lady Anne Bo
leignb, about the time of her first coming to the court.
Yet, considering I had some other knowledge of things
that might be found serviceable no less than that, and
also might give light and life to the faithful narration of
this whole matter, I have supposed it would fall best, to

422 memoir of auEEN
deliver the same, as it were, under the description of her
whole life ; and this the more particularly and frankly,
that, all things known, those that I understood were to
visit it again might take what they should think most
material for their use. And would to God I could give
that grace and felicity, of style unto it that the worthiness
of the subject doth require, notwithstanding that in this
regard I am the less carefull, for that it is to pass through
their hands that can give it better vesture ; and I shall
the more turn my care to intend the sincere and faithful
delivery of that which I have received from those that both
were most likely to come to the most perfect knowledge
hereof, and had least cause or, otherwise for themselves,
could least give just reason of suspicion to any, either of
mind, or partiality, or wit, to fayne or misreport any
whit hereof. And, indeed, chiefly the relation of those
things that I shall set down is come from two. One a
lady', that first attended on her both before and after
she was queen, with whose house and mine there was
then kindred and strict alliance. The other also a lady
of noble birth, living in those times, and well acquainted
with the persons that most this concerneth, from whom
I am myself descended. A little, therefore, repeating
the matter more high, I will derive the discourse hereof
from the very spring and fountains, whence may appear
most clearly by what occasion and degrees the stream of
this whole cause hath grown to such an ocean as it were
of memorable effects through all our parts of Christendom,
not by chance or wits of men so much as even by the
apparent work of God, as I hope presently to make plain
to all men.

Mrs. Anno Gaijisford.

ANNE BOLEYN. 423
The see of Rome having risen, in this our age, unto
a full tide of all wickedness, had overflowed all these
parts of the world with the floods of her evUs, whereby
was occasioned and had beginning the ebb of all her
pomp, power, and glory, every particular devising, as if
it had been by one consent and accord (so showing it the
more apparently to come of God), to provide for the
time to come against her so great inundation of mischiefs.
Hereof, in England, Germany, Italy, and in many other
places, sundry persons of singular learning and piety,
one succeeding another, at divers times, opened their
mouths as trumpets to call men to this work upon several
occasions, aJl rising ftom the outrageous corruptions
and foaming filth of that see. But chiefly and most
notoriously, in the time of Henry the Eighth, of famous
memory, this came to pass by the just judgmeint of God
upon her, and his mercy upon us, where the same polity
by which she had in custom, and then made herself most
assured, to strengthen herself in giving to princes licence
to unlawful contracts (esteeming thereby to tie them and
their issue the more strongly to her) ; the bond of so
evil counsel breaking suddenly, set at liberty the certain
means of this great opposition against her after almost
through all Europe. So Uttle assurance especiaUy have
evU foundations of usyrped authorities against the pro
voked judgments of God by gin, and gent ral displeasure
of man upon just conceived indignities.
There was, at this present, presented to the eye of the
court the rare and admirable beauty of the fresh and
young Lady Anne Boleigne, to be attending upon the
queen. In this noble imp, the graces of nature graced ,
by gracious education, seemed even at the first to have
promised bUss unto her aftertimes, She was taken at

424 ifEMOIE OK aUEEN
that time to 'have a beauty not so whitely as clear and
fresh abov'e all we may esteem, which appeared much
more exceUent by her favour passing sweet and cheerful ;
and these, both also increased by her noble presence of
shape and fashion, representing both mildness and ma^
jesty more than can be expressed. There was found,
indeed, upon the side of her nail upon one of her fingers,
some little show of a nail, which yet was so small, by the
report of those that have seen her, as the workmaster
seemed to leave: it an occasion of greater grace to her
hand, which, with the tip of one of her other fingers,
might be and was usuaUy by her hidden without any
least blemish to it. Likewise there were said to be upon
some parts of her body certain smaU moles incident to
the clearest complexions. And certainly both these were
none other than might more stain their writings with
note of maUce that have caught at such Ught motes in
so bright beams of beauty, than in any part shadow it,
as may right vveU appear by many arguments, but chiefly
by the choice and exquisite judgments of many brave
spirits that were esteemed to honour the honourable parts
in her, even honoured of envy itself-
Amongst these, two were observed to be of principal
mark. The one was Sir ThomMS Wiat, the elder^, the
other was the king himself. The knight, in the be
ginning, coming to behold the sudden appearance of this
new beauty, came to be holden and surprised somewhat
with the sight thereof; after much more with her witty
and graceful speech, his ear also had him chained unto
her, so as finally his heart seemed to say, I could gladly

= See the Earl of Surrey's character of him, in an Elegy on his
Death, among his poems.

SIR THOMAS WTA.TT KT

ANNK BOLEYN. 425
yield to be tied Jbr ever with the knot of her love, as
somewhere in his verses hath been thought his meaning-
was to express 3. She, on the other part, finding him to
be then married, and in the knot to have been tied then
ten years, rejected all his speech of love ; but yet in
such sort as whatsoever tended to regard of her honour,
she showed not to scorn, for the general favour and good
will she perceived all men to bare him, which might the
rather occasion others to turn their looks to that which a
man of his worth was brought to gaze at in her, as,
indeed, after it happened. The king is held to have
taken his first apprehension of this love after such time
as upon the doubr in those treaties of marriage with his
daughter Mary, first with the Spaniard, then with the
French : by some of the learned of his own land he had
vehemently in their pubUc sermons, and in his confessions
to his ghostly fathers, been prayed to forsake that liis
incestuous Ufe by accompanying with his. brother's wife ;
and especiaUy after he was moved by the cardinal, then
in his greatest trust with the king, both for the better
quietness of his conscience, and for more sure settling of
the succession to more prosperous issue.

3 It is presumed that the allusion is here to Sir Thomas Wyatt's
verses entitled " A description of such a one as he would love :"
A face that should content me wonderous well.
Should not he faire, hut lovely to hehold :
Of lively loke, all griefe for to repel
With right good grace, so would I that it should
Speak, without words, such words as none can tell ;
Her tresse also should he of cresped gold.
With wit and these perchance I might he tide
And knit againe the knot that should not slide.
Songes and Sonettes, Svo. 1557, p. 33. 2.

426 MEMOIR OF aUEEN
About this time, it is said that the knight, entertaining
talk with her as she was earnest at work, in sporting
wise caught from her a certain smaU jewel hanging by a
lace out of her pocket, or otherwise loose, which he thrust
into bis bosom, neither with any earnest request could
she obtain it of him again. He kept it, therefore, and
wore it after about his neck, under his cassock, promising
to himself either to have it with her favour or as an
occasion to have talk with her, wherein he had singular
delight, and she after seemed not to make much reckon
ing of it, either the thing not being much worth, or not
worth much striving for. The noble prince having a
watchful eye upon the knight, noted him more to hover
about the lady, and she the more to keep aloof of him ;
was whetted the more to discover to her his affection, so
as rather he Uked first to try of what temper the regard
of her honour was, which he finding not any way to be
tainted with those things his kingly majesty and means
could bring to the battery, he in the end fell to win her
by treaty of marriage, and in this talk took from her a
ring, and that wore upon his Uttle finger ; and yet aU
this with such secrecy was carried, and on her part so
wisely, as none or very few esteemed this other than an
ordinary course of daUiance. Within few days after, it
happened that the king, sporting himself at bowls, had
in his company (as it falls out) divers noblemen and other
courtiers of account, amongst whom might be the Duke
of Suffolk, Sir F. Brian, and Sir T. Wiat, himself being
more than ordinarily pleasantly disposed, and in his game
taking an occasion to afiirm a cast to be his that plainly
appeared to be otherwise ; those on the other side said,
with his grace's leave, they thought not, and yet, stiU he
pointing with his finger whereon he wore her ring, repUed

ANNE BOLEYN. 427
often it w* his, and specially to the knight he said, Wiat,
I teU thee it is mine, smiling upon him withal. Sir
Thomas, at the length, casting his eye upon the king's
finger, perceived that the king meant tlie lady whose
ring that was, which he well knew, and pausing a Uttle,
aiid finding the king bent to pleasure, after the words
repeated again by the king, the knight repUed, And if
it may Uke your majesty to give me leave to measure it,
I hope it will be mine ; and withal took from his neck
the lace whereat hung the tablet, and therewith stooped
to measure the cast, which the king espying, knew, and
had seen her wear, and therewithal spurned away the
bowl, and said. It may be so, but then am I deceived ;
and so broke up the game. This thing thus carried was
not perceived for aU this of many, but of some few it
was. Now the king, resorting to his chamber, showing
some discontentment in his countenance, found means to
break this matter to the lady, who, with good and evident
proof how the knight came by the jewel, satisfied the
king so effectuaUy that this more confirmed the king's
opinion of her truth than himself at the first could have
expected. Shortly, upon the return of the cardinal, the
matter of the dutehess* cooUng every day more and more,
his credit also waned tiU it was utterly ecUpsed; and
that so busied the great personages that they marked the
less the king's bent, the rather for that some way it
seemed helpful to their working against the cardinal.
The king also took here opportunity to proceed to dis
cover his fuU and whole meaning unto the lady's father,
to whom we may be sure the news was not a Uttle joyful.

* The King of France's sister.

428 MEMOIR or aUEEN
All this notwithstanding, her virtue was not so dased
with the glory of so forcible attractives, but that she
stood still upon her guard, and was not, as we would
suppose, so easily taken with all these appearances of
happiness ; whereof two things appeared to be the causes.
One the love she bare ever to thei queen whom she served,
that was also a personage of great virtue : the other her
conceit that there was not that freedom of conjunction
with one that was her lord and king as with one more
agreeable to her estate. These things being well per
ceived of, the queen shew she knew well to frame and
work her advantage of, and therefore the oftener had her
at cards with her, the rather also that the king might
have the less her company, and the lady the more excuse
to be from him ; also she esteem herself the kindlier
used, and yet withal the more to give the king occasion
to see the nail upon her finger. And in this entertain
ment of time they had a certain game that I cannot name
then frequented, wherein deaUng, the king and queen
meeting they stopped, and the young lady's hap w'as
much to stop at a king ; which the queen noting, said to
her playfeUow, My Lady Anne, you have good hap to
stop at a king, but you are not Uke others, you will have
aU or none. So often earnest matters are deUvered under
game. Yet had the king his times, and she in the end
yielded to give her consent of marriage to him, whom
hardly ever any before was found able to keep their hold
against. This was now so far to the pleasure of the king,
that forthwith he with her and her father concluded to
open the matter to the council, all other things being
ripe thereunto, and specially for that it was not possible
to keep it any longer from the talk of 'men near his
person, and the more, tile queen being found to take

ANNE BOLEYN.

such knowledge thereof. It is thought then the table
was diversely carried to give opinion upon this matter ;
some of the nobiUty wishing rather to have had so good
hap Ughted to some of their own houses ; others that it
had not been at aU ; some incUning to either of these as
depending on them; but most Uked better the king's
own choice, both for the hope of issue, and that the
greatness of great men should not grow too great to sway
with in managing of matters of state. But howsoever,
it appeared manifestly that presently there were practices
discovered on aU sides under sundry arts, on the parts of
Spain, from Rome and that faction, and from the queen
herself, and speciaUy some with the king, some with the
lady herself, plotted to break or stay at the least till
something might faU between the cup and the lip, that
might break all this purpose with one of them, if it
might have been. And verily one of these may seem for
this present occasion not unmeet to be recounted ; which
was this : There was conveyed to her a book pretending
old prophecies, wherein was represented the figure of
some personages, with the letter H upon one, A upon
another, and K upon the third, which an expounder
thereupon took upon him to interpret by the king and
his wives, and to her pronouncing certain destruction if
she married the king. This book coming into her
chamber, she opened, and finding the contents, called to
her maid of whom we have spoken before, who also bore
her name : " Come hither. Nan," said she, " see here a
book of prophecy; this he saith is the king, this the
queen, mourning, weeping and wringing her hands, and
this is myself with my head off." The maid answered,
" If I thought it true, though he were an emperor, I
would not myself marry him with that condition." " Yes,

430 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
Nan," repUed tlie lady, " I think the book a bauble ;
yet for the hope I have that the realm may be happy by
my issue, I am resolved to have him whatsoever might
become of me."
The Romish fable-framer 5, if he may be beUeved,
afiirmeth anothet practice after this sort : " That Sir
Thomas Wiat coming to the councilj for his better
security, cMifessed to have had dealings with that lady,
before he had any perceiving of the king's purpose of
marriage ; but not being credited by the king, that Wiat,
as not finding it weU he was not beUeved, affirmed he
would bring the king wh^re he might see him enjoy her.
And that again being delivered by the Duke of Suffolk
to the king, he yet beUeved it not." But it is certain
that the whole or greatest part of this, is fiction ; for the
persons, manner, and event of these things have been
utterly mistaken and misshapen- For I have heard by
the report of one of right good and honourable account,
and of much understanding in such things, who also
hath the truth of his word in high respect, that it was
Sir Francis Brian that confessed such a Uke thing to the
king by another lady, with other success more Ukely,

' Sanders De Origine ac Progressu SchismMtis Anglicani. Libri 3.
This book was first printed at Cologne, in 1S85, and passed through
several editions, the last in 1628. It was subsequently translated
into French, and printed in 1673-4 ; which induced Burnet to write
his History of the Reformation. In the appendix to his first volume
he gives a particular account of Sanders' book, and refutes the
calumnies and falsehoods contained in it. This called forth a reply
from the catholic party, under the title of Histoire du Divorce de
Henry Vlll.^ar Joachim Le Grand. Paris, 1688, 3 vols. 12mo.
A work not without interest on account of the documents printed
in the third volume, some of which I have found useful as illus
trations of the present work.

ANNE BOLEYN. 431
which was that the king thereupon pardoned him indeed,
but rejected and gave over the lady ever after to him.
Whether the duke might, upon the aght of that which
happened at bowls, take any occasion with the king to
dissuade the marriage, supposing the knight could not
or would not otherwise have cleared himself and the
lady, but by confessing and craving patdon for it as
done befiore he had knowledge of the king's intention, I
cannot say ; and by guess I will not affirm it in any case
of any, much less of so worthy and noble a personage.
Only this I say, that if he did so, I beUeve verily that
he was greatly deceived therein of his expectation ; as
finding that by good proof the knight could clear himself
and her of th^ matter, even to the full assuring and
ascertaining of the king of the manner of his coming by
the jewel without her dishonour, and that so the duke,
if he did so, might come to find himself had gone too
far, as to have purchased to himself thereby misUke both
of the king and queen, whereupon he might turn his
heavy di^leasure to the knight ever after. I know of a
certainty, that the knight had a most high opinion of
that prinody lady's noble virtues as by trial, and chiefly
in the master of the bowls ; in that she took not or in-
tetpreted ill of his deed (as herself, being in her own
conscience clear), but as he meant it to the king's disport
bfefwe knowledge of the marriage. This is true also,
that Sir Thomas Wiat was twice sifted and Ufted at,
and that nobleman both times his most heavy adversary,
as I have to show under the knight's own hand in his
answer to his last indictfitent. Neither could I ever
learn what might be the cause of his so peiyetual grudge,
save only that it appeareth to be as old as this.* Some
man might perhaps be led to think that the duke might

432 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
have a special end to draw him to enter and venture so
far to the breaking off the match. And it is true that
he was then married with the king's second sister, when
the king had then remaining but one only daughter, and
then she also questioned whether legitimate : That then
also was procured a statute to cut off foreign titles ; and
it is true also, that after the ambition of some to occasion
hereby to thrust the duke's issue, even before the proper
and lawful issue of the king, into the regal seat. AU
this notwithstanding, I will never be induced to give
that opinion of that nobleman, but rather I Avould think,
if he did any such thing, in any sort giving colour to this
fancy of the Roman legender, he did it upon zeal that in
his conceit it was true, and that he thought the knight
would so far confess it as done before talk of the king's
marriage, when he saw he had passed so far in the
measuring of the cast. And though the whole fiction
have scarcely so much as shadow of colour of any ap
pearance, yet for that part where he deviseth that Sir
Thomas should before the council apeach himself and
that lady, or after not being credited, offer to make the
king see him to have to do with her, this showing itself
sufficiently falsified to any wise and understanding reader,
especially considering it particularly with the circum
stances, it is so far from all Ukelihood, as aU pre
sumptions are flat against it, as in a word or two shall
now be showed.
For that princely lady, she living in court where were
so many brave gallants at that time unmarried, she was
not like to cast her eye upon one that had been then
married ten years. And her parents, then in good and
honourable place," resident in court, and themselves of no
mean condition, they would keep, no doubt, a watchful

ANNE BOLEYN. 433
eye over her to see she should not roam to the hin
derance of her own preferment, a course so foul with one
where was no colour of marriage. The King's eye also
was a guai-d upon her, as also those that pleased the
king in recounting the adventures of love happening in
court made it hard, speciaUy for the shortness of time
after her placing there, and the king's own love. Also
she that held out against such a king where was hope of
marriage, what was Uke she should do to the knight,
where his own lady and her friends were stiU to attend
upon their doings, whose testimonies of the honourable
carriage of that lady are therefore here most strong for
her .'' And for the knight, if he had enjoyed her, was he
so .far desperately wicked and a monster in love, that he
would openly, purposely, and to his own disgrace, vaunt
the spoil of a maid of so good friends and Ukelihoods of
advancements, without all regard of God or man .'' espe
ciaUy when she had stood so well upon the assurance of
her own innocence for the matter of the jewel without
turning him to any displeasure thereby. Those that
knew him best, knew him far from that dishonest dis-
position chiefly in this kind, and for so gross a villany.
And if he had been of that mind, yet was he known not
of so Uttle wit or understanding, upon a point that was
not very Ukely to be known, to discover his own and her
evU; where was a great deal more likelihood that, the
king beUeving her rather than him, he was to incur a
more certain and greater mischief, that might in all pre
sumption, faU by the heavy displeasure of them both
upon himself ever after. And if we could imagine him
both so wretchedly dishonest, and so very a sot (neither
of which could be found of him), his "father then coun
sellor to the king, for his wisdom, years, and experience, F F

iSi MEMOIR OF QUEEN
more grave, would not have suffered him yet to quit
himself so fondly and to be so mad ; especiaUy as when
the king had showed not to beUeve it, then to run more
obstinately to offer when the king had made her privy
hereunto, to bring her that the king should see her also
so mad as to yield to him after she had given consent of
marriage to the king. Who would not beUeve them also
mad, that would beUeve so mad a carriage of such a
business amongst grave and wise men, howsoever the
raiUng Romanist be so mad to write it so as he would
seem mad with reason ? For the king also, besides that
he had more occasion and means than any other to note
and observe her doings, yet much more (as the nature of
generous spirits carries them) he was watchful upon the
knight, as in other things so chiefly in this, not to be
outrun at this garland of love ; so as by himself and by
the eyes of others, there was not any trip but would have
been spied, no UkeUhood but would have carried suspicion
with it ; how much more would the knight's confession
have sunk into his head .'' Would he, being so wise a
prince, have forgotten that the soberness of his choice
would serve much for satisfying the world, touching his
divorce ? Had he not time, had he not leisure to leani,
to inquire and sift out all things.? His care used in
gathering opinions of universities, and in informing
princes of the whole matter, with all circumstances in the
managing this cause, by the space of some years, show
he was not so passionate a lover, but also withal a wise
and considerate prince. But it is said the king beUeved
it not ! Yet what .'' when the knight (as this tale saith)
offered to make the king see it, and that avowed to the
council ! Could such a prince as he swallow this ?
Doubtless none that hath his wits wiU think so, none

ANNE BOLEYN. 435
that knew the complexion of the king could induce him
self to suppose a thing so incredible. The case of Sir
Francis Brian's 6 opening of his love had another effect,

6 Sir Francis Brian was one of the most accomplished courtiers
of his times : a man of great probity and a poet. Wyatt addresses
his third satire to him, and pays a high compliment in it to his
virtue and integrity. He was, like Wyatt, firmly attached to the
Protestant cause : on this account he seems to have drawn on him
self the hatred of the Roman Catholic party. Sanders, in his ma
levolent account of the Reformation in England, relates the follow
ing absurd and wicked story of him.-^Cum autem Henrici Regis
domus ex perditissimo hominum constaret, cujusmodi erant alea-
tores, adulter!, lenones, assentatores, perjuri, blasphemi, rapaces,
atque adeb haeretici, inter hos insignis quidem nepos extitit, Fran-
dscus Brianus, Eques Auratus, ex gente et stirpe Bolenorum. Ab
illo rex quodam tempore qusesivit, quale peccatura videretur ma-
trem primum, deinde filium cognoscere.— Cui Brianus, " Omnino,"
inquit, " tale O rex quale gallinam primfim, deinde puUum ejus
gaUinaceum comedere." Quod verbum cum rex magno risu acce-
pisset, ad Brianum dixisse fertur. " Nae ! tu merito mens est
Inferni Vicarius." Brianus enim jam prius ob impietatem notis-
simam vocabatur, " Inferni Vacarius." Post autem et " Regius
Infemi Vicarius." Rex igitur cum et matrem prius, et postea
filiam Mariam Bolenam pro concubina tenuisset, demum at alteram
quoque filiam, Annam Bolenam, animum adjicere ccepit. De
Schismate Anglicano, p. 24.
This disgusting calumny is repeated by the followers of Sanders,
and among others by Davanzati, in his Schisma d' Inghilterra, p. 22,
Ed. 1727. And yet that history is presented by the Curators of
the Studio at Padua, to the youth educated there as " una stimabi-
lissima Storia; descritta con quei vivi e forti colori che soli vagliano
a far comprendere I'atrocita del successo dello Schisma d'lnghil-
terra." How (says Dr. Nott, from whom this note is taken) can
the bonds of charity be ever brought to unite the members of the
Roman Catholic communion with those of the reformed church, so
long as their youth shall be thus early taught to consider our Re
formation as the portentous offspring of whatever was most odious
in hillnan profligacy, and most fearful in blasphemy and irreligion }"
Memoirs of Sir Thomas Wyatt, p. 84. F F 2

436 MEMOIE OF QUEEN
and shows plainly that the king was of another metal,
since he cast off that Lady bved right dearly (as hath
been said) without farther matter. And doubtless in this
case, he beUeving the matter would have thrown off this
lady also, the marriage not yet consummate, and he
having in his own realm and abroad beauties enoUgh to
content him, and means enough also to push on some
other. But it is devised the king beUeved it not. Not
beUeving it, think we the knight could have escaped
punishment of a slanderer, though he might by confessing,
avoid the punishment of a malefactor (as they say) after ?
This no outrageous madman would beUeve. If the king
would or could have passed it over, the lady in honour
could not, nor might. , But suppose also that supposal
beyond all suppose. Though they punished it not, -would
they, think ye, have put him in credit and advancement
after .'' Would they have had him chief ewerer even the
very day of her coronation ? Would they have employed
him ambassador in that matter of the marriage ? Yea, I
say more ! would the king also have rewarded him with
a good portion of lands soon upon this ? But all these
were so as we have aUeged them. The Chronicles have
his service on that day of coronation. His embassages
were twice about this' matter known right weU : I have
seen the patents of the grant myself 7. And these things,
the last especiaUy, I the rather allege, for that the knight
useth them himself as testimonies of the king's good
opinion of him, in his defence before mentioned, which
also by the king and his council in those times was liked
and allowed of as his just purgation, by which they ao-

32 Henry VIII. A.D. 1540.

ANNE BOLEYN. 437
quitted him. Finally, that his defence tlien may and is
to be esteemed his defence now also in this case not to be
contemned, and may thus be considered. This reporteth
that he was twice winnbwed. The matters were the
same both times, the accusations so frivolous, the induce
ments and proofs so idle, that they prove nothing more
than that there lacked no wUls in his adversary to do him
hurt, than that they had any least colour of matter to
work it. Nothing so impertinent, nothing so unlikely
that they allege not. Yea and his most trusty and best
services they had the chief matters of their accusation,
nothing was so fond that they ripped not up to his dis
credit, at the least if it might have been. Yet in all this
was no word or signification of any such matter. Though
it had not been brought as the ground of his accusation,
would it not have been drawn forth to aggravate or in
duce the matter.? Undoubtedly it would, either in the
queen's Ufe in his first trouble, and it would have done
weU to revenge if he had done her this wrong, or "after to
her overthrow, or else in his second trouble against him.
But no one word is or was in it touching any such
matters. After so many cross billets of cunning poUties, sur
mounted by the guiding providence of God, after so
many trials of her truth, passed through by her wise and
virtuous governance, the king having every way made so
thorough proof how deep root honour had taken in her
bosom, and having found it not to be shaken even by
him, this royal and famous prince Henry the Eighth,
resolving her matchless perfections meet alone to be
joined with his, now at the length concluded forthwith
to knit up this marriage, although for certain causes the
same was thought more convenient to be performed some-

438 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
what privately and secretly. On the twenty-fifth of
Januarys, therefore, the ceremony was consummate.
The king also, shortly after having himself more ascer
tained, and by more inward trial more assured of her
spousal truth, would yet farther testify that his opinion
of her, by giving her that highest honour he could give
her virtues, in having her solemnly and royally crowned.
And thus we see they Uved and loved, tokens of in*
creasing love perpetually increasing between them. Her
mind brought him forth the rich treasures of love of
piety, love of truth, love of learning. Her body yielded
him the fruits of marriage, inestimable pledges of her
faith and loyal love. And touching the former of these,
it is here first not to be forgotten, that of her time (that
is during the three years that she was queen) it is found
by good observation, that no one suffered for religion,
which is the more worthy to be noted for that it could
not so be said of any time of the queens after married to
the king. And amongst other proofs of her love to reli
gion to be found in others, this here of me is to be added.
That shortly after her marriage, divers learned and
christianly disposed persons resorting to her, presented
her with sundry books of those controversies that then
began to be questioned touching reUgion, and specially
of the authority of the pope and his clergy, and of their
doings against kings and states. And amongst other,
there happened 9 one of these, which, as her manner was,
she having read, she had also noted with her nail as of
matter worthy the king's knowledge 1. The book lying
« A. D. 1532-3.
" Tyndal's Obedience of a Christian Man.
¦ This curious and interesting occurrence, which probably had

ANNE BOLEYN. 439
in her window, her maid (of whom hath been spoken)
took it up, and as she was reading it, came to speak with

considerable effect in furthering the progress of the Reformation,
is told with more circumstance by Strype, from the manuscripts of
Fox. It is so entirely corroborated by what is here said, that I
think it incumbent upon me to place it in juxtaposition with Wyatt's
narrative. " Upon the Lady Anne waited a young fair gentlewoman, named
Mrs. Gainsford ; and in her service was also retained Mr. George
Zouch. This gentleman, of a comely sweet person, a Zouch in
deed, was a suitor in the way of marriage to the said young lady : and
among otlier love tricks, once he plucked from her a book in En-
glishe, called Tyndall's Obedience, which the Lady Anne had lent
her to read. About which time the Cardinal had given command
ment to the prelates, and especially to Dr. Sampson, dean of the
king's chapel, that they should have a vigilant eye over all people
for such books, that they came not abroad; that so as much as
might be, they might not come to the king's reading. But this
which he most feared fell out upon this occasion. For Mr. Zouch
(I use the words of the MS.) was so ravished witjh the spirit of
God speaking now as weU in the heart of the reader, as first it did
in the heart of the maker of the book, that he was never well but
when he was reading of that book. Mrs. Gainsford wept because
she could not get the book from her wooer, and he was as ready to
weep to deliver it. But see the providence of God : — Mr. Zouch
standing in the chapel before Dr. Sampson, ever reading upon this
book; and the dean never having his eye off the book, in the gen
tleman's hand, called him to him, and then snatched the book out
of his hand, asked his name, and whose man he was. And the
book he delivered to the cardinal. In the meantime, the Lady
Anne asketh her woman for the book. She on her knees told all
the circumstances. The Lady Anne showed herself not sorry nor
angry with either of the twt). But, said she, ' Well, it shall be
the dearest book that ever the dean or cardinal took away.' The
noblewoman goes to the king, and upon her knees she desireth the
king's help for her book. Upon the king's token the book was
restored. And now bringing the book to him, she besought his
grace most tenderly to read it. The king did so, and delighted in
the book. " For (saith he) this book is for me and all kings to

440 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
her one 2 then suitor to her, that after married her ; and
as they talked he took the book of her, and she withal,
caUed to attend on the queen, forgot it in his hands, and
she not returning in some long space, he walked forth
with it in his hand, thinking it had been hers. There
encountered him soon after a gentleman of the cardinal's
of his acquaintance, and after salutations, perceiving the
book, requested to see it, and finding what it was, partly
by the title, partly by some what he read in it, he bor
rowed it and showed it to the cardinal. Hereupon the
suitor was sent for to the cardinal and examined of the
book, and how he came by it, and had like to have come;
in trouble about it, but that it being found to have per
tained to one of the queen's chamber, the cardinal thought
better to defer the matter till he had broken it to the
king first, in which meantime the suitor delivered the
lady what had fallen out, and she also to the queen, who,
for her wisdom knowing more what might grow there
upon, without delay went and imparted the matter to
the king, and showed him of the points that she had
noted with her finger. And she was but newly come

read." And in a little time, by the help of this virtuous lady,
by the means aforesaid, had his eyes opened to the truth, to
advance God's religion and glory, to abhor the pope's doctrine, his
lies, his pomp, and pride, to deliver his subjects out of the Egyptian
darkness, the Babylonian bonds that the pope had brought his sub
jects under. And so contemning the threats of aU the world, the
power of princes, rebellions of his subjects at home, and the raging
of so many and mighty potentates abroad ; set forward a reforma
tion in religion, beginning with the triple crowned head at first, and
so came down to the members, bishops, abbots, priors, and such
like." — Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials, vol. i. p. 112.
" Mr. George Zouch.

..\NNE BOLEYN. 441
from the king, but the cardinal came in with the book in
his hands to make complaint of certain points in it that
he knew the king would not like of, and withal to take
occasion with him against those that countenanced such
books in general, and specially women, and as might be
thought with mind to go farther against the queen more
directly if he had perceived the king agreeable to his
meaning. But the king that somewhat afore distasted
the cardinal, as we have showed, finding the notes the
queen had made, all turned the more to hasten his ruin,
which was also furthered on all sides.
On the other part, of her body she bare him a daugh
ter on the seventh 3 of September, to the great joy then
of aU his people, both for that the king had now issue
legitimate of his own body, and for the hope of more
after. The king also he expressed his joy for that fruit
sprung of himself, and his yet more confirmed love to
wards her, caused her child openly and publickly to be
proclaimed Princess Elizabeth at the solemnity of
her baptising, preferring his younger daughter legitimate
before the elder in unlawful wedlock. And after this
again, at the prorogation of the parUament, the thirtieth
of March 4, he had every lord, knight, and burgess
sworn to an act of succession, and their names subscribed
to a schedule fixed to the same statute, where it was
enacted, that his daughter princess EUzabeth, he having
none other heir male, should succeed him to the crown.

' So it is in the Calendars prefixed to the Book of Common
¦ Prayer in Queen EUzabeth's reign. Lord Herbert says it was the
sixth, Sanders the eighth, and Archbishop Cranmer the thirteenth
or fourteenth.

A. D. 1534.

442 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
And after were commissioners sent to all parts of the
realm to take the like oath of all men and women in the
land. Neither also were her virtues only enclosed in her
own breast or shut up in her own person. She had pro
cured to her chaplains ^, men of great learning and of no
less honest conversing, whom she with hers heard much,
and privately she heard them wiUingly and gladly to
admonish her, and them herself exhorted and encouraged
so to do. Also at the first, she had in court drawn about
her, to be attending on her, ladies ^ of great honour, and
yet of greater choice for reputation of virtue, undoubted
witnesses of her spousal integrity, whom she trained upon
with all commendations of weU ordered government,
though yet above all by her own example she shined
above them all, as a torch that all might take light of,
being itself still more bright. Those that have seen at
Hampton Court the rich and exquisite works by herself.

s Shaxton and Latimer.
" To every one of these she gave a little book of devotions,
neatly written on vellum, and bound in covers of solid gold
enamelled, with a ring to each cover to hang it at their girdles for
their constant use and meditation.
One of these little volumes, traditionally said to have been given
by the queen when on the scaffold to her attendant, one of the
Wyatt family, and preserved by them through several generations,
was described by Vertue as being seen by him in the possession of
Mr. George Wyatt of Charterhouse Square, in 1721. Vide Wal-
pole's Miscellaneous Antiquities, printed at Strawberry Hill, 1772,
No. II. p. 13. It was a diminutive volume, consisting of one
hundred and four leaves of vellum, one and seven-eighths of an
inch long by one and five-eighths of an inch broad ; containing a
metrical version of parts of thirteen Psalms: and bound in pure
gold richly chased, wdth a ring to append it to the neck-chain or
girdle. It was in Mr. Triphook 's possession in the year 1817.

ANNE BOLEYN. 443
for the greater part wrought by her own hand and
needle, and also of her ladies, esteem them the most pre
cious furniture that are to be accounted amongst the
most sumptuous that any prince may be possessed of.
And yet far more rich and precious were those works in
the sight of God which she caused her maids and those
about her daily to work in shirts and smocks for the
poor. But not staying here her eye of charity, her hand
of bounty passed through the whole land ; each place
felt that heavenly flame burning in her ; all times will
remember it, no place leaving for vain flames, no times
for idle thoughts. Her ordinary amounted to fifteen hun
dred pounds at the least, yearly, to be bestowed on the
poor. Her provisions of stock for the poor in sundry needy
parishes were very great. Out of her privy purse went
not a Uttle to Uke purposes. To Scholars in exhibition
very much : so as in three quarters of a year her alms
was summed to fourteen or fifteen thousand pounds.
She waxing great again and not so fit for daUiance,
the time was taken to steal the king's affection from her,
when most of all she was to have been cherished. And
he once showing to bend from her, many that least ought
shrank from her also, and some lent on the other side ;
such are the flexible natures of those in courts of princes
for the most part. Unkindness grew, and she was brought
abed before her time with much peril of her Ufe, and of
a male child dead bom, to her greater and most extreme
grief. Being thus a woman fuU of sorrow, it was re
ported that the kipg came to her, and bewailing and
complaining unto her the loss of his boy, some words
were heard break out of the inward feeling of her heart's
dolours, laying the fault upon imkindness, which the
king more than was cause (her case at this time con-

444 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
sidered) took more hardly than otherwise he would if he
had not been somewhat too much overcome with grief, or
not so much aUenate. Wise men in those days judged
that her virtues was here her default, and that if her too
much love could, as well as the other queen, have borne
with his defect of love, she might have fallen into less
danger, and in the end have tied him the more ever after
to her when he had seen his error, and that she might
the rather have done respecting the general liberty and
custom of falUng then that way.' Certainly, from hence
forth the harm still more increased, and he was then
heard to say to her : he would have no more boys by her.
Having thus so many, so great factions at home and
abroad set loose by the distorned favour of the king, and
so few to show themselves for her, what could be ? what
was otherUke but that all these guests Ughting on her at
once should prevail to overthrow her, and with her those
that stood under her fall ? She and her friends therefore
were suddenly sent to the Tower: and this gracious
queen coming unto the entry of the gate, she falUng
down upon her knees made that place a reverend temple
to offer up her devout prayers, and as a bale there her
soul beaten down with afflictions to the earth, with her
faithful prayers bounded up to heaven. " O Lord,"
said she, " help me, as I am guiltless of this whereof I
am accused." The time approached for the hearing of
her cause. The place of her trial in the Tower may
somewhat discover how the matter was Uked to be han
dled. Nor there was -it appointed the better to conceal
the heinousness of the accusation, though that might be
the pretence. For that was published in parliament that
it might from thence spread abroad over all. Her very
accusations speak and even plead for her ; all of them,

ANNE BOLEYN. 445
so far as I can find, carrying in themselves open proof
to all men's consciences of mere matter of quarrel, and
indeed of a very preparation to some hoped alteration.
The most and chief of them showing to have come from
Rome, that popish forge of cunning and treachery, as
Petrarch long since termed it.
Nido di tradimenti in cui si cuova
Quanto mal per lo mondo hoggi si spandi.
Nest of treasons in which is hatch'd and bred
Wliat ill this day the world doth overspread.
For that most odious of them, something is to be
esteemed by the apparent wrongs of the other evil han
dling of matters. But for this thing itself, partly it is
incredible, partly by the circumstances impossible. In
credible, that she that had it her word as it were, the
spirit of her mind, as hath been said, that she was Casar's
aU, not to be touched of others, should be held with the
foul desire of her brother. Again, she having so goodly a
prince to please her, who also had showed himself able to
content more than one, that she should yet be carried to
a thing so much abhorring even womanly years and to
nature itself, much more to so christian a queen. Im
possible, for the necessary and no smaU attendance of
ladies ever about her, whereof some, as after appeared,
even aspired unto her place and right in the king's love ;
yea, by manifest prevention before their time. And in
deed, hereof, it was her very accusers found it impossible
to have colour to charge her with any other than her
brother, which also made it no less impossible even for
him aUke as other. Impossible, I say, because neither
she could remove so great ladies, by office appointed to
attend upon her continuaUy, from being witnesses to her
doings ; neither for the danger she saw she stood in, and

446 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
the occasion daily sought, would she for her own wisdom,
and also by the advertisements of her kindred and fol
lowers, whereof she had many of most great understand
ing, experience, and faith, about her. Besides, she could
not but be made more wary and wakeful, if for none
other cause, yet even to. take away all colour from her
enemies, whose eyes were everywhere upon her to pick
matter, and their malicious hearts bent to make some
where they found none ; as plainly enough was to be
seen when they were driven to those straits to take oc
casion at her brother's more private being with her ; the
more grudged at perhaps, for that it might be supposed
his conference with her might be for the breaking off the
king's new love. For the evidence, as I never could hear
of any, so small I believe it was. But this I say, well
was it said of a noble judge of late, that " half a proof
where nature leadeth was to be esteemed a whole proof."
On the contrary, in this case he would have said, whole
and very absolute proofs to have been needful in such a
case against nature. And I may say, by their leaves, it
seems themselves they doubted their proofs would prove
their reproofs, when they durst not bring them to the
proof of the Ught in open place. For this principal
matter between the queen and her brother, there was
brought forth, indeed, witness, his wicked wife accuser
of her own husband, even to the seeking of his blood,
which I believe is hardly to be showed of any honest
woman ever done. But of her, the judgment that fell
out upon her, and the just punishment by law after of
her naughtiness, show that what she did was mere to be
rid of him than of true ground against him. And that
it seemeth those noblemen that went upon the queen's
life found in her trial, when it may appear plainly by

ANNE BOLETN. 447
that defence of the knight that oft hath been here men
tioned, that the young nobleman the Lord Rochford, by
the common opinion of men of best understanding in
those days, was counted and then openly spoken, con
demned only upon some point of a statute of words then
in force. And this and sundry other reasons have made
me think often that upon some clause of the ^ame law
they grounded their colour also against her, and that for
other matters she had cleared herself well enough. It
seemeth some great ones then had their hands in drawing
in that law to entangle or bridle one another, and that
some of them were taken in the same net, as good men
then thought worthily. Surely my Lord Cromwell and
this young lord were taken in those entanglements, and
the knight himself, of whom is spoken, had hardly
scaped it, as ma,y appear by his defence, if he had not by
the weU delivering of the goodness of his cause broken
through it. And this may well serve to admonish men to
he well aware how far they admit of laws that shall touch
Ufe upon construction of words; or, at the least, ad
mitting them, how far they leave to lawyers to interpret
of them, and especiaUy that thereby they give not excuse
to juries to condemn the innocent when sway of time
should thrust matters upon them. Thus was she put
upon her trial by men of great honour ; it had been good
also if some of them had not been to be suspected of too
much power and no less maUce. The evidence were
heard indeed, but close enough, as enclosed in strong
walls. Yet, to show the truth cannot by any force be
altogether kept in hold, some beUke of those honourable
personages there, more perhaps for countenance of others'
evil than for means by their own authority to do good

448 MEMOIR OF QUEEN
(which also peradventure would not have been without
their own certain perils), did not yet forbear to deliver
out voices that caused every where to be muttered abroad,
that that spotless queen in her defence had cleared herself
with a most wise and noble speech. Notwithstanding
such a trial, such a judgment found her guilty, and gave
sentence of death upon her at home, whom others abroad,
living to feel her loss, found guiltless.
The woful sentence was given ; burning or heading at
the king's pleasure, leaving open some smaU place to pity
for the kind of death, which the king's conscience (no
doubt) moved him to take in appointing the more honour^
able death. Within those walls this execution was to be
done. What needed that ? The love known indeed to
her by the people was not to be feared of the king, her
love being such to him as to her last breath she stood to
acquit and defend him by her words at her death, carrying
a very true image of her former love and Ufe. " Chris
tian people !" said she, " I am come to die, and according
to law, and by law I am judged to death, and therefore
I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to ac
cuse no man, nor to speak any thing df that whereof I am
accused and condemned to die. But I pray God save the
king, and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler
and more merciful prince was there never, and to me he
was ever a good, a gentle, and, sovereign lord. If any
person will meddle of my cause, I require him to judge
the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of
you, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. 0
Lord, have mercy on me ! To God I commend my soul."
And so she kneeling down said, " To Christ I commend
my soul. Jesu, receive my soul !" The bloody blow

ANNE BOLEYN. 449
came down from his trembUng hand that gave it, when
those about her could not but seem to themselves to
have received it upon their own necks, she not so much
as shrieking at it. God provided for her corpse sacred
burial, even in place as it were consecrate to inno
cents.

END OF THE MEMOIR
OF QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN.

The following letters, relating to the arrest and behaviour in prison
of Queen Anne Boleyn, are in themselves so interesting that no
apology seems necessary for placing them in juxtaposition with the
foregoing interesting memoir. They have been recently given to
the public in Mr. Ellis's accurate and interesting collection of
Historical Letters ; that gentleman has preferred printing them
as mutilated fragments, to supplying the lacunee by such means as
I have ventured to adopt. Strype saw these letters previous to
the calamitous Jire in 1731, which injured so many valuable papers
in the Cottonian Collection, and he has given large extracts from
them of the most interesting passages : from this source, therefore,
I have filled up such chasms as I could, that the reader may not
be tantalized by the enigma-like appearance of a few disjointed
words. The passages supplied have been carefully distinguished
by printing them in Italics between brackets, and as Strype was a
sufficiently accurate Antiquary, and faithful in his extracts, it is
presumed that the reader may rely upon the authenticity of the
passages thus supplied.
The reader is already acquainted with the writer. Sir William
Kingston, the Lieutenant or Constable of the Tower, from the
figure he makes in the Life of Wolsey. See p. 369, et seq.

LETTERS CONCERNING ANNE BOLEYN. 451

LETTER I.
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromwell, upon
Queen Anne's committal to the Tower.
[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X^ fol. 225.]

ThYs ys to advertyse you apon my Lord of Norfolk
and the kyngs counseU depart[m^e] from the Towre I
went before the quene in to hyr lodgyng, 8e [then she'^
sayd unto me, M. Kyngston, shall I go in to a dungyn ?
Now, madam, y[oM] shall go into your logyng that you
lay in at your coronacion. It ys to gu[de] for me, she
sayd, Jesu, have mercy on me ; and kneled downe
wepyng a [great] pace, and in the same sorow fell in to
agret lawyng, and she hathe done [so] mony tymes syns.
And then she desyred me to move the kyngs hynes that
she {myght~\ have the sacarment in the closet by hyr
chambr, that she Tiny[ght pray] for mercy, for I am as
clere from the company of man, as for s[yn, sayd she as
I] am clere from you, and am the kyhgs trew wedded
wyf; and then sh[e sayd] M. Kyngston, do you know
wher for I am here, and I sayd Nay, and then [she'sayd]
when saw you the kyng? and I sayd, I saw hym not
syns I saw [him in] the Tylte yerde, and then M. K. I
pi-ay you to tell me wher my [Lord .Roc^tjford ys ? and
I told hyr I saw hym afore dyner in the cort. O [where
ys] my sweet brod'er ? I sayd I left hym at York place,
and so I dyd. I [hear say, say]d she, that I shuld be
accused with iij men ; and I can say [no more but] nay,
withyowt I shuld oppen my body ; and ther with opynd
gg2

45^ LETTERS CONCERNING
[her gown sayeng, O iVbr]res, hast thow accused me,
thow ar in the Towre with me, & [thou and I shal]l dy
to gether : and, Marke, thou art here to. O my mother,
[thou wilt dy] for sorow, and meche lamented my lady
of Worcet', for by ca,[wse her child] dyd not store in
hyr body, and my wyf sayd what shuld [be the cawse,
she] sayd for the sorow she toke for me : and then she
sayd M. ^[ingston, shall I dy] with yowt just' ; & I
sayd, the porest sugett the kyng [hath had justis, and]
ther with she lawed. AU thys sayings was yester ny[ght]
. . . , . . . . & thys moryng dyd talke with
mestrys Cosyl, [and said that Nor]Tes dyd say on Sunday
last unto the queues a.ican[er, that he wold sw]eie for the
quene that she was a gud woman. [And then sayd Mrs.]
Cosyn, Madam, why shuld ther be hony seche maters
[spoken of? Mary,] sayd she, I bad hym do so, for I
asked hym why he [went nat thorough with] hys ma-
ryage ? and he made ansur he wold tary [a time. Then
said she, you] loke for ded mens showys ; for yf owth
cam[e to the king but good,] you wold loke to have me;
and he sayd, yf he [should have ony soche thought,] he
wold hys bed war of; and then she sayd, [she could
undo Aim if she wold,] and ther with thay fell yowt. Bot
[she said, she more feared Westcn^ ; for] on Wysson
Monday last [Weston told he]r that Nores cam more
u[«to lier chnwmbre for herthen for M] age^, and further
 Wher I was commaunded to
charge the gentlewemen that y gyf thaye atende apon
the quene, that ys to say, thay shuld have now com-

' Cosy : this woman's name was Cousyns.
" Probably the name of one of her attendants.

ANNE BOLEYN. 453
mjmycaseon with hyr, in lese^ my wyf ware present, and
so I dyd hit, notwithstaundyng it canot be ; for my lady
Bolen and mestrys Cosyn lyes on the queues palet, and I
and my wyf at the dore with yowt, so at* thay most
nedes talke at* be without ; bot I have every thyng told
me by mestrys Cosyn that she thynks met for mee to
knowe, and tother ij gentlewemen lyes with yowt me,
and as I may knowe [the] kings plesur in the premysses
I shaU folow. From the Towre this mo 
S"^. syns the makyng of thys letter the quene spake of
West[ore^ that she] had spoke to hym by cause he dyd
love hyr kynswoma[w Mrs. Skelton and that s]he sayd
he loved not hys wyf ; and he made anser to hyr [again
that he] loved won in hyr bowse bettr then them bothe[;
she asked Aim who is tiiat ? to which he answered] that
it ys your self; and then she defyed hym.
WILLM KYJ<lG[STON.]

LETTER II.
Sir WiUiam Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell, on Queen
Anne's behaviour in Prison.
[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X. fol. 222.]

After your departyng yesterday, Greneway gentihnan
ysshar cam to me, & . . • M. Caro and Masr Bryan
commanded hym in the kyngs name to my [Lord of]

' unless. ¦» that. * Sir Francis Weston.

454 LETTERS CONCERNING
Rotchfort from my lady hys wyf, and the message was
now more  se how he dyd ; and also she
wold humly sut unto the kyngs by [we*] .... for
hyr husband ; and so he gaf hyr thanks, and desyred me
to know [at what] tyme he shuld cum affore the kjmgs
counsell, for I thynk I s[hall n^t] cum forthe tyll I cum
to my jogement, wepyng very 
I departed from hjrm, and when I cam to the chambr
the [quene heard] of me and sent for me, and sayde I ^
here say my lord my [brother is] here ; it ys trowth,
sayd I ; I am very glad, said sh[e that we] bothe be so
ny together; and I showed hyr here wase ....
Weston and Brerton, and she made very gud countenans
. . . . I also sayd, M. Page and Wyet wase mo,
then she sayd he ha . . . . on hys fyst tother day
and ye here now bot ma  I shall de-
syre you to bayre a letter from me [to Master] Secretory ;
and then I sayd, madam, tell it me by [word of mouth
<§• /] wiU do iti and so gaf me thanks saying, I ha[t)e
moche marvelT] that the kyng's counseU comes not to me ;
and thys [same day sJie] sayd we shuld have now rayne
tyU she ware [delivered owt] of the Towre. I pray you
it may be shortly by [cawse of the] fayre wether. You
know what I mayne. The quen[e sayd tins] nyght that
the kyng wyst what he dyd wh[aw he put soche] ij abowt
hyr as my lady Boleyn and Mestres [Cosyns, fr] thay
cowd tell hyr now thyng of ray [lord her father nor]
nothyng ellys, bot she defyed them all. B[o^ upon this
my lady Bolen] sayd to hyr, seche desyre as you heve
ha[d to soche tales] base browthe you to thys. And then
sayd [Mrs. Stoner, Marke] ys the worst cheryssht of
heny m[an in the howse,far he] wayres yemes, she sayd
that was [becaws he was no] gentleman. Bot he wase

xVNNE BOLEYN. 455
never in m[y chamb'' but at Winchestr, and] ther she
sent for hym to ple[^ on the virginals, fm there my]
logyng was [above the kings] 
 fori
never spake with hym syns, bot apon Saterday before
May day, and then I fond hym standyng in the ronde
wyndo in my chambr of presens, and I asked why he
wase so sad, and he ansured and sayd it was now mater,
and then she sayd, you may not loke to have me speke
to you as I shuld do to anobuU man, by cause you be
aninferer persson. No, no, madam, aloke sufficed me ;
and thus far you weU . . [s]he hathe asked my wyf
whether heny body maks thayr bed .... [wi]y
wyf ansured and sayd, nay, I warant you, then she say
 y myght make baletts Well now
bot ther ys non bet  d that can
do it, yese sayd my wyf master Wyett by . . -
sayed trew.
.... my lord my brod' wiU dy.~i
.... ne I am sur thys was as VwiLLM KVNGSTON.
. . . tt downe to den' thys day.^
 thys day .at diner I sent M. Nores hys
diner & sent hym  a knave to
hys prest that wayted apon hym withe 
 t imto hym, and he ansured hym agayn
 ny thyng of my
confession he ys worthye to have 
hyt I defy hym ; and also he desyreth to hav . . .
 [Affl]lf anowre yf it may be the kyngs
plesur . WILLM KYNGLSTOJV.]

456 LETTERS CONCERNING

LETTER III.
Sir William Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell, with further
details of the Queen's conduct.
[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X. fol. 224 b.]

S«
The quene hathe meche desyred to have here in the
closet the sacarments, & also hyr amner who she sup
poseth to be Devet ; for won owre she ys determyned
to dy, and- the next owre meche contrary to that. Yester
day after your departyng I sent for my wyf, St also for
mestrys Cossyn to know how the^ had done that day,
they sayd she had bene very mery and made agret dyner,
and yet sone after she caUed for hyr supper, havyng
raarvell wher I was aU day ; and after supper she sent
for me, and at my commyng she sayd, "Wher have you
bene aU day," and I mad ansure I had bene with prysoners,
" so," she sayd, " I thowth I hard M. Tresur[er,"] I.
ansured he was not here ; then she be gan talke and sayd
I was creuely handeled .... a Greweche with
the kyngs counseU vrith my lord of Norfolke that he
sayd,. [Tut, tut, tut,] and shakyng hys bed iij or iiij
tymes, and as for Master Tresurer he was in the [Forest
of Windsor.] You know what she meynes by that, and
named M''. Controler to be avery [gentleman] ....
. she to be a quene and crevely handeled as was never

they.

ANNE BOLEYN. 457
sene ; bot I [think the king] dose it to prove me, and
dyd lawth with all and was very mery, and th[en she
said I shall have just]ists ; and then I sayde have now
dowt ther[iw] ; then she sayd yf hony man [accuse me
I can say bot w]ay, & thay can bring now wytnes, and
she had talked with the gentell[j«>emeM] 
. sayd I knew at Marks commyng to the Towre that
nyght I feysayved  at it was x. of the
cloke or he ware weU loged, and then she sayd . . .
. . knew of Nores goyng to the Towre, and then she
sayd I had  next yf it had bene leyd
she had wone, and then she sayd I w[oZd Godl had m'\y
bysshoppys for thay wold aU go to the kyng for me, for
I thy[n/ce the most part of] Yngland prays for me, and
yf I dy you shaU se the grette[«^ punisJiment frr m]e
withyn thys vij yere that ever cam to Yngland, & then
sh[e sayd I shal be in heaven, frr] I have done mony
gud dedys in my days, bot zit I thynke [moche on-
kindnes yn the] kyng to put seche abowt me as I never
loved: I showed [her that the king toke theyrri] to be
honest and gild wemen, bot I wold have had [of myn
owne prevy chambre^ weche I favor most &c.
WILLM KYNGST[OAr.]
To Mast' Seretory.

458 LETTERS CONCERNING

LETTER IV.
Edward Baynton to the Treasurer : declaring that only
one person, named Mark, mil confess any thing against
Queen Anne. [ms. cotton. OTHO c. X. fol. 209. b.]

M**^ Theasurer,
This shalbe to advertyse yow that here is myche com-
munycacion that noman wiU confesse any thyng agaynst
her, but allonly Marke of any actuell thynge. Wherfore
(in my foUshe conceyte) it shulde myche toche the kings
bono' if it shulde no farther appeere. And I cannot
beleve but that the other two bee as f [mZ^] culpapuU as
«ver was hee. And I thynke assur[g(%] the on kepith
the others counceU. As many .... conjectures
in my mynde causeth me to thynk . . . specially
of the communycacion that was last bet[wewe] the quene
and Master Norres. M^ Aumener [foMe^ me as I wolde
I myght speke with M' &[ecretorie'] and yow together
more playnely expresse my . . . yf case be that
they have confessyd Uke 'wret . . . aU thyngs as
they shulde do than my n  at apoynte.
I have mewsed myche at  of mastres
Margery whiche hath used her .... strangely
toward me of late, being her ivy[nde] as I have ben.
But no dowte it cann[o# be] but that she must be of
counceU therewith, [there] hath ben great fryndeship be
twene the q[ene and] her of late. I here farther that the
que[«e] standith styfly in her opynyon that she wo . .
• . . . whiche I thynke is in the trust that she .

ANNE BOLEYN. 469
ther two. But if yo' busynes be suche . .
. not com, I wolde gladly com and wayte .
. . . ke it requysyte. From Grenewy[cAe]
. • . . mornyng. EDWAKD 

LETTER V.

Sir William Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell, May 16'.*
1536, upon the preparations for the execution of my
Lord Rochford and Queen Anne.

[harl. MS. 283. fol. 134. Orig.^

Sir,
Thys day I was with the kyng's grace and declared the
petysyons of my Lord of Rochford, wherin I was an-
swred. Sir, the sayd lord meche desyreth to speke' with
you, weche towchet hys consyens meche as he sayth,
wherin I pray you I may know your plesur, for by cause
of my promysse made unto my sayd- lord to do the same,
and also I shall desyre you further to know the kjmgs
plesur towchyng the quene, as well for her comfyt as for
the preparacion of skefolds and bother necessarys con-
semyng. The kyng's grace showed me that my lord of
Cantorbiiry shuld be hyr confessar, and was here thys
day with the queUe ; & not 7 in that mater, sir, the tyme

7 note.

460 LETTERS CONCERNING
ys short, for the kyng supposeth the gentelmen to dy to
morow, and my lord of Rocheford with the reysydew of
gentelmen, & as zit with yowt [confession] weche I loke
for, bot I have told my lord of Rocheford that he be in
aredynes to morow to suffur execusyon, and so he ac-
cepse 8 it very well, and will do his best to be redy, Not-
withstandyng he wold have reysayved hys ryghts, weche
hathe not bene used and in especiall here. Sir, I shaU
desyre you at 9 we here may know the kyngs plesur here
as shortly as may be, at 9 we here may prepayre for the
same weche 1 ys necessary, for the same we here have
now may for to do execusyon. Sir, I pray you have gud
rymembrance in all thys for hus^ to do, for we shalbe
redy al ways to our knowlage. Zit thys day at dyner
the quene sayd at^ she shuld go to Anvures^ & ys in
hope of lyf, and thus far you weU. WILLM KYNGSTON.

LETTER VI.

Sir William Kingston to Lord CromweU, apparently
May W!' 1536.
[ms. cotton, otho c. X. fol. 223.]

Syr,
Thys shalbe to advertyse you I have resa3rved your lett'
wherin yo[M wolde] have strangerys conveyed yowt of

accepts. ' that. ' i. e. what.
3 Anvers, Antwerp.

ANNE BOLEYN. 461
the Towre and so thay be by the [meanis] of Richard
Gressum., & Will-m Loke, & WythepoU, bot the nmbr^
of stra,[ngers past] not xxx. and not mony ; Hothe and
the inbassit' of the emperor had a [servaunt] ther and
honestly put yowt. S' yf we have not an owre ^ serten
[as it may] be knowen in London, I thynke he[?-e] wUbe
bot few and I thynk [a resondble] humbur ^ ware bes :
for I suppose she wyll declare hyr self to b[e a good]
woman for aU men bot for the kyng at the o' of hyr
A.e[th. For thys] mornyng she sent for me that I myght
be with hyr at [soche tyme] asshe reysayved the gud lord
to the in tent I shuld here hy[r speke as] towchyng her
innosensy alway to be clere. & in the writy[w^ of this]
she Sent for me, and at my commyng she sayd, M. Kyng
ston, I he[fflr saye I shall] not dy affore none, & I am
very sory ther fore ; for I thowth [than to] be dede [an\A
past my payne. I told hyr it shuld be now payne it vi[as
so sotteU. And then she said I] hard say the execut' was
very gud, and I have a \y[tile necke, and put Ae]r hand
abowt it lawyng hartely.
I have sen[e mony men 4"] also wemen executed and at
they have bene in grepe sorrowe, and to my knowle]ge
thys lady hathe meche joye and plesur in dethe. [Sir,
hyr Amner is coM^i]newally with hyr, and basse byne
syns ij of the c[o[cke after midnight. This is] the effect
of hony thyng that ys here at [thys tyme, and thus fare
yow] well. Your 
WILLM KYNG[5'rOAr.]

4 number. ' an hour. « number.

462 ORIGINAL LETTERS.

LETTER VII.
From the Earl of Northumberland, addressed " To his
beloved Cosyn Thomas Arundel, one of the Gentlemen
of my Lord Legates prevy chambre!" It was written
soon after the death of the EarVs father, in 1527.
Referred to at p. 339 of Wolsey'' s life.
[from the archives of the duke op NORTHUMBERLAND.]

Bedfellow, after my most harte recommendacion :
Thys Monday the Ujd off August I resevyd by my ser
vaunt, Letters from yow beryng datt the xx* day off
July, deUveryd unto hym the sayme day at the kyngs
town of Newcastell ; wher in I do perseayff my lord Car-
denalls pleasour ys to have such boks as was in the
ChapeU of my lat lord and ffayther (wos soU Jhu
pardon). To the accomplyshment of which at your
desyer I am confformable, notwithstanding I trust to be
able ons to set up a chapel off myne owne. But I pray
God he may look better upon me than he doth.
But me thynk I have lost very moch, ponderyng yt ys
no better regardyd ; the occasion wher off he shall
persayff. Fyrst, the long lyeng of my tressorer 7, with hys very
hasty and.unkynd words unto hym, not on my parte
deserved.

' That is his long continuance with the cardinal.

ORIGINAL LETTERS.
Also the news off Mr. Manyng, the which ys blon
obroud over all Yorksher ; that neyther by the kyng «,
nor by my lord cardenaU am I regardyd; And that
he wyU teU me at my metyng with hym, when I
come unto Yorksher; which shaU be within thys
month, God wyUyng: but I ffer^ my words to M'
Manyng shall displeas my lord; for I wiU be no
ward. Also, bedfellow, the payns I tayk and have taykyn
sens my comyng hether, are not better regardyd;
but by a fflatteryng Byshope of Carel l and that fals
Worm^ shaU be broths to the messery and Carfful-
ness that I am in; and in such slanders, that now
and my lord cardenal wold, he cannot bryng me howth 4
thereof. *****
I shall with aU sped send up your lettrs with the
books unto my lord's grace, as to say iiij Anteffonars ^,
such as I thynk were not seen a gretwyll ; v Grails ; an
Ordeorly ; a ManuaU ; vUj"' Proffessioners, And ffor aU
the ressidew, they not worth the sending, nor ever was oc-
cupyd in my lords chapel. And also I shall wryt at thys
time as ye have wyUed me.
^ He had probably disobliged the king by his attachment to Anne
Boleyn. 9 fear. ' Carlisle.
" William Worm, whom he mentions in a former letter, as the
person who betrayed him.
3 brought. * out.
Antiphonars, Grails, Orderlys, Manuals, and Professionaries,
are books containing different portions of the Roman Catholic
Ritual. See Percy's Northumberland Household Book, p. 446,
and Burn's Ecclesiastical Law.

464 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
Yff my. lord's grace wyll be so good Lord unto me,
as to gyf me lychens 6 to put WyU™ Worme within a
casteU of myn off Anwyk in assurty, unto the tyme
he have accomptyd ffor more money rec? than ever
I reC? , I shall gyff hys grace ij CI' and a benefiss off
a C. worth unto hys coUeyg,. with such other thyngs
resserved as his [grace] shall desyre; but unto such
tyme as myne Awdytors hayth tak)ni accompt off him:
wher in good bedfellow do your best, ffor els he shall
put us to send myselff, as at owr metyng I shaU show
yow. And also gyff secuer credens unto this berer, whom
I assur yow I have ffonddon a marvellous honest man, as
ever I ffownd in my lyff. In hast at my inonestary of
Hul Park the iij* day of August. In the owne hand
off Yours ever assured, H. NORTHUMBERLAND.
To my bedfellow Arundel.

LETTER VIIL
The Earl of Northumberland io Cromwell, denying any
contract or promise of marriage between Anne Bullen
and himself. [original, cott. lib. otho c. 10.]

M'^ Secretary, This shall be to signifie unto you that
I perceive by Sir Raynold Carnaby, that there is sup-

* licence. There is a tradition at Alnwick tbat an auditor was
formerly confined in the .dungeon under one of the towers till he
could make up his accounts to his lord's satisfaction.

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 465
posed a precontract between the queen and me ; wherupon
I was not only heretofore examined upon my oath before
the Archbishopps of Canterbury and York, but also re
ceived the blessed sacrament upon the same before the
Duke of Norfolk, and other the king's highnes' council
learned in the spiritual law ; assuring you M' Secretary,
by the said oath, and blessed body which affbre I received,
and hereafter intend to receive, that the same may be
to my damnation, if ever there were any contracte or
promise of marriage between her and me. At New-
ington Green, the xiijth day of Maye, in the 28* year
of the reigne of our soveraigne lord King Henry the
VIII*. Your assured, NORTHUMBERLAND,

LETTER IX.
Queen Catherine of Arragon and King Henry yilY^ to
Cardinal Wolsey, a joint letter, 1527.
[ms- cotton. VITELL. B. XII. fol. 4.]
Mr. Ellis has printed this letter in its mutilated condition ; I have
ventured to supply the lacume from the copy in Burnet's History
of the Reformation, vol. i. p. 55. Burnet obtained his transcript
when it was in a perfect state, but has unaccountably attributed
the first part of the letter to Anne Boleyn. It is however said
by Mr. Ellis to be in the hand-writing of Catherine, and cannot
but be considered very interesting.

My Lord, in my moste humblyst wys that my hart can
thinke [I desire you to pardon] me that I am so bold to

466 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
troubyl yow with my sympyl [<Sr rude wryteng, estemyng]
yt to prosed from her that is muche desirus to kno[we
that youer grace does well.] I paersave be this berar
that you do ; the wiche I [praye God long to continewe,]
as I am moste bonde to pray, for I do know the g[reaie
paines and trowbles that] you have taken for me bothe
day and nyght [is never like to be recompensyd on] my
part, but aUonly in loveng you next on to the [kinges
grace above all] creatures leveng ; and I do not dought
hut\he[daylyprqffesqfmydeades]d\a}i\.raaneiies,i\yAe(A.a.ex and aferme my wryte[wg" to be trewe, and I do] truste
you do thynke the same. My lord, I do assure you I do
long to heare from you som newes of the legat, for I do
hope and [they come from you they] shall be very good,
and I am seur that you deseyre [it as moche as I] and
more, and ytt waer possibel as I knowe ytt ys not : And
thus remaineing in a stedfast hope I make anend of my
letter, [writtyn with the hande] of her that is moste
bounde to be — — —
f^ Here Queen Catherine's part ends, the rest is in the hand-writing
of Henry the Eighth.
The wrytter of thys letter wolde not cease tyU she had
[caused me likewise] to set to my hand desyryng yow
thowgh it be short to t[ake it in good part.] I ensure
yow ther is nother of us but that grettly desyry[^A to see
you, and\ muche more rejoyse to heare that you have
scapyd thys plage [so well, trusfyng] the fury thereof to
be passyd, specially with them that \[epyth good diett]
as I trust you doo. The not beryng of the legates
arywall [in Franse causeth] us sumwhat to muse ; nott-
withstandyng we trust by your diily[gens and vigilancy]

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 467
(with the ^systence of Almyghty God) shortly to be
easyd owght [of that trouble.] No more to yow at thys
tyme but that I pray God send yow [m good health] and
prosperity as the wryters wolde.
By your lovyng &o[veraign Sffrende]
HENR[r R.]

LETTER X.
Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey^
[fiddes' collections, p. 256.]

My Lord, after my most humble recommendations this
shaU be to gyve unto your grace as I am most bownd my
humble thanks for the gret pay'n & travelle that your
grace doth take in steudyeng by your wysdome and gret
dylygens how to bryng to pas honerably the gretyst welth
that is possyble to come to any creator lyving, and in
especyaU remembryng howe wretchyd and unworthy I
am in comparyng to his hyghnes. And for you I do know
my selfe never to have deservyd by my desertys that you
shuld take this gret payn for me, yet dayly of yourgood-
nes I do perceyve by all my frends, and though that I
had nott knowlege by them the dayly proffe of yourdeds
doth declare your words and wrytyng toward me to be
trewe ; nowe good my Lord your dyscressyon may con-
syder as yet how lytle it is in my power to recompence
you but aU onely wyth my good wyl, the whiche I as-
sewer you that after this matter is brought to pas you shall
fynd me as I am : bownde in the mean tym to owe you
my servyse, and then looke what a thyng in thys woreld
H H 2

468 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
I can immagen to do you pleasor in, you shall fynd me
the gladyst woman in the woreld to do yt, and next
unto the kyngs grace of one thyng I make you full
promes to be assewryd to have yt and that is my
harty love unfayhydly deweryng my lyf, and beying
fully determynd with Godds grace never to change
thys porpos, I make an end of thys my reude and
trewe meanyd letter, praying ower Lord to send you
moche increase of boner with long lyfe. Wrytten
with the hand of her that besechys your grace to ex
cept this letter as prosydyng from one that is most bownde
to be Your humble and
obedient servante, ANNE BOLEYN.

LETTER XI.
Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey.
FROM fidd:^s' collections, p. 255.
Collated mth the Original in the Cottonian Collection. Brit. Mus. Otho
c. X. foL 218.

My Lord, in my most humblyst wyse that my powuer
hart can thynke I do thanke your grace for your kind
letter, and for youer rych and goodly present, the whyche
I shall never be able to desarve wyth owt your gret helpe,
of the whyche I have hetherto hade so grete plente that
all the dayes of my lyfe I ame moaste bownd of all
creators next the kyngs grace to love and serve your grace,
of the whyche I besyche you never to dowte that ever I
shalle vary frome this thought as long as ony brethe is in

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 469
my body. And as tochyng your grace's troble with the
swet I thanke ower Lord that them that I desyerd and
prayed for ar scapyd, and that is the kyng and you. Not
doughthyng bot that God has preservyd you bothe for
grete cawsys knowen aUonly to his hygh wysdome. And
as for the commyng of the legate I desyer that moche ; and
yf it be Goddis pleasor I pray him to send this matter
shortly to a good ende ; and then I trust my lord to re
compense part of your grete panys, the whych I must re-
quyer you in the meane tyme to excepte my good wyll in
the stede of the power, the whyche must prosede partly
from you as ower Lourd knoweth to whome I be syche
to sende you longe lyfe with continewance in honor.
Wrytten wyth the hande of her that is most bound to
be Your humble and
obedyent servante, ANNE BOLEYN.

LETTER XII.
Cardinal Wolsey in his Distress to Thomai Cromwell.
MS. COTTON. VESP. F. XIII. fol. 76.
From Fiddes' Collections, p. 256. Collated mth the Original.

Myn owne enterly belovyd Cromwell,
I BESECHE you as ye love me and wyl evyr do any thyng
for me, repare hyther thys day as sone as the parlement
ys brokyn up, leyng aparte aU thyngs for that tyme ; for
I wold nat onely commynycat thyngs unto yow wherin
for my comfort & relief I wold have your good sad.

470 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
dyscret advyse & counseU, but also opon the same com-
mytt sertyng thyngs requyryng expedicion to yow, on
my behalf to be solycytyd : this I pray you therfor, to
hast your commyng hyther assafore, with owt omyttyng
so to do, as ye tendyr my socor, reliff & comfort,
and quyetnes of mynde. And thus fare ye weU:
from Asher, in hast, thys Satyrday in the mornyng,
with the rude hande & sorrowful hert of your assurj^d
lover ,,

I have also serteyn thyngs consernyng yowr sylf wych
I am suere ye wolbe glad to here & iknowe : fayle not
therfore to be ha-e thys nygth, ye may retome early in
the mornyng ageyn yf nede shul so requyre. Et iterum
vale. Mr. Augusteyn? shewyd me how ye had wryttyn onto
me a Ipttre Wiherin ye shuld adv'tyse of the comyng hyther
of the Duke of Norfolke : I assure you ther cam to my
hands no suche lettre.

7 Dr. Augustine, or Agostinb, a native 6f Yenice, was physician
to the cardinal, and was arrested at Cawood at the same time with
his master, being treated with the' utmost indignity : v. Life, pp.
348, 3S1. In the Cottonian MS. Titu^ b. i. foL 36S, there is a
letter of his to Thomas CromweU, in Italian, requiring speedy
medical assistance, apparently for Cardinal Wolsey. It is dated
Asher, Jan,., ISth,, ,1539-30. Cavendish describes him as being
dressed in a "boistous gown of black velvet;'' with .which he
overthrew one ot the silver crosses, which broke Bonner's head in
its fall. ' ' • . .

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 471

LETTER XIII.
From Wolsey to Dr. Stephen Gardener, Secretary of State.
Communicated to Mr. Grove by Mr. Littleton, afterwards Lord
Littleton, who possessed the original. It is now in the Ashmole
Museum at Oxford.

My owne goode Mastyr Secretary,
GoYNG this day out of my pue to sey masse, your lettres
datyd yestemygth at London wer delyveryd unto me ;
by the contynue wherof I undyrstand, that the kyng's
hyhnes, of hys exceUent goodnes & cheryte ys contentyd,
that I shaU injoy h have the admynystracion of Yorke
merly, with the gyftts of the promocyons spiritual & tem-
porall of the same, reservyd onely onto his nobyll grace
the gyft of V or vj of the best promocions. And that hys
pleasure ysj I shal leve Wynchester & Saynt Albons. As
hereonto Mr. Secretary, I can nat expresse howe moche
I am bowndyn to the kyng's royal majeste for thys hys
gret h bowntawse Uberalyte, reputyng the same to be
moche more then I shal ever be abyl to deserve. How-
beyt yf hys majeste, consyderyng the short & lyttyl tyme
that I shal lyve here in thys world, by the reason of such
hevynes as I have conceyved in my hert, with the
ruinyuose of the olde howsys & the decay of the said
archbyshopryck at the best to the sum of viii C Marcke
yearly, by the reason of the act passyd for Fynys
of Testaments, wth also myn long paynful servys
and poore degre ; and for the declaration of hys grace's
exceUent cheryte, yf hys hyhnes be myndyd I shal leve
Wynchester & Saynt Albon's, wych I supposyd, when I

472 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
maid my submyssyon, not offendyihg in my trewth to
wards hys royal parson, dygnyte, or majeste royal, I
should not now have desyr^yd to have left ; and much
-the more knowyng his grace's excellent propensyon to
pyte & mercy, & rememberyng the francke departyng
with of all that I had in thys world, that I may have
summe convenyent pension reservyd unto me, suche as
the kyng's hyhnes of hys nobyll charite shal thynke mete^
so orderyng his that shal succede and my lyvyng, that
the same may be of lyck valew yeerly and exstent.
Whereat my trust ys, and my herte so gevyth me, that
hys majeste wold make no dyffyculte, yf yt may lycke
yow friendly to propone the same, assuryng yow that I
desyre' not thys for any m3mde (God ys my judge), that
I have to accumulate good, or desyre that I have to the
muke of world ; for, God be thankyd, at thys ower I set
no more by the ryches & promocyons of the world, then
by the roshe undyr my fote ; but onely for the declara
tion of the kyng's favor & hyhe cheryte, & to have where-
vrith to do good dedys, & to helpe my poore servants and
kynnysfolks. And furthermore that yt wold please the
kyng's excellent goodnes by your freindly medyacion,
consyderyng how slendyrly I am fumyshyed in my bowse,
nowe speciaUy that the apparell of Wynchester and
Saynt Albons shalbe takyn from me, to geve and appoynt
unto me a convenyent fernyture for the same, non ad
pompam, sed necessariam honestatem. And yf I may
have the free gyft and dysposycion of the benefyces, yt
shalbe gretly to my comfort. And yet when any of the
V or vi pryncypaU shal fortune to be voyd, the kyng's
grace being myndyd to have any of them, hys hyhnes
shalbe as sure of the same, as though they wer reservyd.
And thus by his nobyl & mercyful goodnes delyvered

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 473
owt of extreme calamite, & restoryd to a newe fredome, I
shal, with God's mercy & help, so ordyr my lyff, that I
trust hys majeste shal take special comfort therin, & be
pleasyd with the same : Spero quod hoc, ¦ quce peto, non •
videbitur magna. Howbeyt I most humbly submyt and
referre aU my petytions, immo ipsam vitam, to his gra-
cyous ordynance & pleasure, praying yow to declare &
sygmfy the same, supplying myn indysposycion & lacke
of wyt, conceyvyd by reason of my extreme sorowe &
hevynes, that the same may be to the kyng's contenta-
cion, wherin I had lever be ded then to offende in word,
thowght, or dede, and as towching the grantyng of the
fee of one c U. for Mr. Nores duryng hys lyff for hys
good servys done unto the kyng's hyhnes, for the wych I
have always lovyd him, and for the singuler good hert
and mynde, that I knowe he hath alweys borne unto me,
I am content to make out my grawnte upon the same, ye
& it wol please the kyng to inlarge it one c. Ii. more ; and
semblably cause Mr. Thesauror hath the kepyng of the
kyng's game nygh to Femam, I wold gladly, if it may
stand with the kyng's pleasure, grawnte unto hym the re
version of such thinges as the Lord Sands hath there, with
the ampliacon of the fee above that wych is oldely accus-
tomyd, to the sum of xl. U. by the yeere ; & also I wold
gladly geve to Mr. ComptroUer a lycke fee, & to Mr.
Russel, another of xx. U. by the yeere. Remyttyng thys
and aU other my sutes to the kyng's hyhnes pleasure,
mercy, pity, & compassion, moste holly. Beseechyng
hys Hyhnes so nowe gracyously to ordyr me, that I may
from hensforth serve God quietly & with repose of mynd,
& pray as I am most bowndyn, for the conservacyon &
increase of his most nobyU and royal astate. And

474 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
thus with my dayly prayer I byd yow fareweU. From
Asher hastely with the rude hand and moste bevy herte
of Yowr assuryd frende & bedysman, T. CAR^'* EBOR.

LETTER XIV.
Cardinal Wolsey to Dr. Stephen Gardener.
This Letter was also communicated to Mr. Grove by Mr. Littleton.
It is now in the Ashmole Museum at Oxford.

MY OWNE GOODE MASTYR SECRETARY,
Aftyb my moste herty commendacions I pray yow at
the reverens of God to helpe, that expedicion be usyd in
my persuts, the delay wherof so replenyshyth my herte
with hevynes, that I can take no reste ; nat for any vayne
fere, but onely for the miserable condyciori, that I am
presently yn, and lyclyhod to contynue yn tbe same,
onles that yow, in whom ys myn assuj-yd truste, do help
& releve me itherin; For fyrst; contynuyng. here in this
mowest &r corrupt ayer, beyng enteryd into the pasSyOn'
of the drdpsy. Cum prostatione appetitus et cOTitinuo in
somnia. I caiihat lyve : Wherfor of necessyte I must be
removydto some other -dtyet ayer and place, ^here I may
have comodyte of physycyans. Secondly, havyng but
Yorke, wych is, now decayd, by viU C. Ii. by the , yeere,
I cannot teU how to lyve, & kepe the poore nombyr of
folks wych I nowe have, piy how-sys ther be in decay, and
of evry thyng mete for howssoM onprovydyd and fur-

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 475
nyshyd. I have non apparell for my howsys ther, nor
money to bring me thether, nor to lyve wyth tyl the
propysse tyme of the yeere shall come to remove thether.
Thes thyngs consyderyd, Mr. Secretary, must hedys
make me yn agony and hevynes, myn age therwith &
sycknes consyderyd, alas Mr. Secretary, ye with other my
lordys shewyd me, that I shuld otherwyse be furnyshyd
& seyn unto, ye knowe in your lemyng & consyens, whe-^
ther I shuld forfet my spiritualties of Wyrichestei' or no.
Alas ! the qualytes of myn offencys cqnsyderyd, with the
gret punishment & losse of goodes that I have sustaynyd,
owt to move petyfuU hertys ; and the moste nobyl kyng,
to whom yf yt wold please yow of your cherytable good
nes to shewe the premyses aftyr your accustomable wys
dome & dexteryte, yt ys not to be dowbtyd, but his
highnes wold have consyderacyon & compassyon, agg-
mentyng my lyvyng, & appoyntyng such thyngs as shuld
be convenient for my furniture, wych to do shalbe to the
kyng's high honor, meryte, & dyscharge of consyens, &
to yow gret prayse for the bryngyng of the same to passe
for your olde brynger up and* lovying frende. ThyS
kyndnes exibite from the kyng's hyghnes shal prolong my
lyff for some lytyl whyl, thow yt shaU nat be long, by the
meane whereof hys grace shal take profygtt, & by my
deth fion. What ys yt to hys hyhnes to give some con
venyent porcion owt of Wynchester, & Seynt Albons,
hys grace takyng with my herty good wyl th6 resydew.
Bpmember, good Mr. Secretary, my poore degre, & what
sepvys I have done, and how nowe approchyng to deth,
I must begyn the world ageyn. I besech you therfore,
i3ftovyd> with pity arid c&mpassyon soker me 'in thys itty
calamyte, and to your power wych I fenowe /s gret,
relfe^e'me; arid I wyth'aU myri shal: not bnely ascrybe

476 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
thys my relef unto yow, but also praye to God for the
increase of your honor, & as my poore shal increase, so
I shal not fayle to requyte your kyndnes. Wryttyn
hastely at Asher, with the rude and shackyng hand of
Your dayly bedysman. And assuryd frend.
To the ryght honorable
and my assuryd fi-ende
Mastyr Secretary.

LETTER XV.
Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener,
Desiring him to write to him and give him an account of the king's
intentions with regard to him. (From Strype.)

Myn own good mastyr secretary, albeit I am in such
altiration and indisposition of my hede & body, by the
meansse of my dayly sorowe & hevynesse, that I arii
fen omit to writ any long Ires. Yet my trustyng frend,
Thomas Crowmwel, retornyng & reparyng unto yow, I
cowde nat forbere, but brively to put yow in remem
brance : how that aftyr the consultation takyn by the
kyngs hyghnes opon myn orderyng, which ye supposyd
shulde be on Sunday was sevennyght, ye wolde not fayle
to advertyse me at the length of the specialties thereof.
Of the wch to here & have knowleg, I have & dayly do
looke for. I pray yow therefore at the reverens of God,
& of this holy tyme, & as ye love & tendyr my poore lyf.

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 477
do SO moche as to wrytt onto me your seyd Ires : wherby
I may take some cumfort & rest : nat dowting but your
hert is so gentyl & pityful, that havyng knowleg in what
agony I am yn, ye wole take the payne to send onto me
your seyd consoUatory Ires. Wherby ye shal nat onely
deserve toward God, but also bynde me to be as I am,
your contynual bedysman. Wrytten this mornyng at
Asher, with the rude hand and sorroweful hert of yours
with hert and prayer. T. Cardinalis Ebor. Miserrimus.
To the right honorable
Mr. Secretary.

LETTER XVI.
Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener.
To draw up his pardon. (From Strype. J

Myn owne good Mastyr Secretary,
Aftyr my moste herty recommendations, with lycke
thanks for your goodnes towards me, thes shal be to
advertyse yow that I have beyn informyd by my trusty
frend Thomas CromweU that ye have signifyed onto
hym to my syngular consolation how that the kynges
highnes movyd with pety & compassyon, & of hys ex
cellent goodnes & cheryte consyderyng the lamentable
condition & Stat that I stand yn, hath wyllyd yow with
other lords and mastyrs of hys honorable cownseU, to

478 original letteiis.
intende to the perfyghtyng & absolvyng without further
tract or delay of myn end & appbyntement ; and that
my pardon shulde be made in the moste ample forme
that my counsell cowde devise. ^ For thys the kyngs
moste gracyous remembrance, -procedyng of hymself, I
accompt my sylf not onely moste bowndyn to Serve &'
pray for the preservation of hys moste royal majestie,
but also thancke God that ye have occasion given onto
you to be a soUycyter & setter forth of such thynges as
do & shall conserve my seyde ende. In the makyng &
compowndyng wherof myn assured truste is, that ye
wole shewe the love & affection wych ye have & here
towards me, your olde lover & frende : so declaryng
your self therin, that the worlde may parceyve that by
your good meanys the kyng ys the bettyr goode lorde
unto me ; & that nowe newly in maner comyng to the
world, ther maye be such respect had to my poore degree,
olde age & longe contynufed servys, as shal be to the
kyngs hygh honor & your gret prayse & laude; Wych
ondowtydly shall folowe yf ye optinde yowre benyvolens
towards me, & men perceive that by your wisdome &
dexterite I shalbe relevyd, & in this my calamyte holpen.
At the reverens therefore of God myn owne goode Mr.
Secretary, & refugy, nowe set to your hande, that I may
come to a laudable end & repos,, ,seyng .that I may bp
furnyshyd aftjrr such a sorte Se maner as I may ende my
short tyme 8e lyff to the honor of Crystes churche &
the prince. And besides my dayly prayer & true hert
I shal so requyte your kyndnes, as ye shall have cause
to thyncke the same to be weU imployde, lycke as my
seyd trusty frende shall more amply shewe onto you.
To whom yt may please yow to geve firme credens and

ORIGINAL letters. 479
lovyng audyens. And I shall pray for the increase of
your honour. Wryttyn at Assher with the tremyllyng
hand 8e bevy hert of your assuryd lover & bedysman
T. CARD^'^ EBOR.
To theb ryght honorable and
my singular good frende
Mayster Secretary.

LETTER XVII.
Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener,
Desiring him to favour the cause of the Provost of Beverly, and to
intercede with the king for him and his colleges. (From Strype. )

Myne awne gentil Maister Secretary,
After my mooste herty recommendations, these shal
be to thanke you for the greate humanite, lovyng 8s
gentil recule, that ye have made unto the poore Provost
of Beverly : & specialy, for that ye have in such wise
addressed hym unto the kings highnes presence, that his
grace not onely hath shewed unto hym, that he is his
goode & gracious lorde, but also that it hath pleased hys
riiajeste to admitte & accepte hym as his poore orator &
scholer. Wherby both he & I accompte our selfs so
bounden unto you, that we cannot telle how to requite
this your gratitude & kyndenes ; mooste hartely praying
you to contynue in your good favour towards hym, & to
take hym & his pore causis into your patrocynye & pro
tection. And, as myne assured expectation & trust is,
to remember the poor state & condition that I stond in.

480 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
& to be a meane to the kyngs highness for my relefe in
the same. In doyng wherof ye shal not onely deserve
thanks of God, but also declare to your perpetual laud
and prayse, that ye be3mg in auctorite, have not forgoten
your olde maister & ftynde. And in the wey of charite,
& for the love that ye here to virtue, & ad bona studia,
be meane to the kyngs highnes for my poore coUeges ;
and specially for the college of Oxford. Suffer nbt the
things, which by your greate lemyng, studie, counsaile
&c travaile, hath bene erected, founden, & with good
statutes & ordinances, to the honour of God, increase
of vertue & lemyng estabUshed, to be dissolved or dis-
membred. Ye do know, no man better, to what use the
monasteries, suppressed by the popis licence, the kyngs
consente concurryng with the same, & a pardon for the
premoneriS, be converted. It is nat to be doubted, but
the kyngs highnes, of his high vertue & equite, beyng
informed how every thing is passed, his mooste gracious
Ucense & consente (as is aforesaid) adhibited therunto,
wol never go aboute to dissolve the said incorporations
or bodyes, wherof so greate benefite & commodite shal
insue unto his reahrie & subjects. Superfluities, if any
such shal be thought & founden, may be resecat ; but to
destroy the hole, it were to greate pitie.
¦ Eftsones therefore, good Maister Secretarie, I beseche
you to be good maister & patrone to the said coUeges :
" Et non sinas opus manuum tuarum perire, aut ad
nihilum redige." Thus doyng, both I, & they shal not
onely pray for you, but in such wise deserve your paynes,
as ye shal have cause to thinke the same to be wel be-

* Premunire.

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 481
stowed & imployed, like as this present berer shal more
at the large shewe unto you. To whom it may please
the same to geve firme credence. And thus mooste
hartely fare ye wel. From Sothewell, the xxiij"* day of
July. Your lovyng frende, T. CAR'''^ ebor.
To the right honorable & my
singular good frende M''
Doctor Stephyns, Secretory
to the Kings Highnes.

LETTER XVIII.
Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener,
Desiring his favour in a suit against him for a debt of 7001. by one
Strangwish. (From Strype. J

Myne awne good Maister Secretary,
After my mooste harty recommendations, these shal
be to desire, & mooste effectueUy to pray you to be good
maister, & friende unto me, concemyng the uncharitable
sute of Strangwishe for vij C U., which he pretendith
that I shulde owe unto hym, for the ward of Bowes.
And albeit there was at his fyrste comyng to my service,
by our mutual consents, a perfecte end made between
hym & me for the same, yet nowe digressyng therfrpm,
perceyvyng that I am out of favour, destitute of socour,
& in calamite, he not onely newly demaundyth the said
vij C U. but also hath made complaint unto the kyngs
highnes, surmittyng, that I shulde, contrary to justice,
deteyne from hym the said vij C U. For the redresse

482 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
whereof, it hath pleased the kyngs majeste to direct his
mooste honorable letters unto me ; the contents wherof
I am sure be nat unknown unto you. And insuing the
purporte therof, & afore the delyvere of the same thre
days by past, notwithstanding my greate necessite &
poverte, onely to be out of his exclamation & inquietnes,
I have written to my trusty friende, M' Cromwel, to
make certeyn reasonable offres unto hym for thai intent
and purpose ; moost hartely beseching you to helpe, that
upon declaration of such things, as upon my part shal
be signified unto you by the said Maister Cromwell,
some such end, by your friendely dexterite, may bee
made betwixt us, as shal accorde with good congruence,
& as I may supporte & be hable (mjoie other debts and
charges considered) to here. In the doyng wherof, ye
shall bynde me to be your dayly bedesman, as knoweth
God, who alwayes preserve you. From SotheweU, the
xxv* day of August. Yours with hert & prayer,
T. car"^ ebor.
To my right entierly welbiloved
frende M' Stephyn Gardener,
Secretory to kyngs highnes.

LETTER XIX.
Lettre de Monsieur de Bellay Evesque de Bayonne a
M'' le Grant Maistre. De Londres le xvij Oct. 1529.
[mss. de bethune biblioth. du ROY, V. 8603. f. 113.]

Monseigneur, depuis le^ lettres du Roy & les aultres
vostres que je pensoye sur I'heure envoyer, cette depesche

original LETTER.s. 488
a estee retard^ jusques k present, parce qu'il a fallu faire
& teMre les lettres que je vous envoye tout plein de
fois; & pour ce aller & venir souvent, tant les Dues
meines qu'aultres de ce conseil a Windesore, dont toute k
cette heure ils les m'ont envoyees en la forme que verrez
par le double d'iceux. lis the prierit le plus fort du
monde de faire qu'on ne trouve mauvais si en ces exp^^
ditions, & mesmement en ce que touche le principal de
la depesche, je ne suis de tout satisfait comme je voul-
droye, & aussi eulx mesmes, s'excusans que leur maniere
de negocier envers leur maistre n'est encore bien dresSi&e,
mais pour I'advenir doibvent faire merveilles, & en bail-
lent de si grands asseurances & si bien jurees, qUeje ne
puis me garder de les croire; je n'ay point refreschy
mes lettres au Roy, car je ne voy point qu'il y en ait
matiere. Au demourant, j'ay est6 voir le Cardinal en ses ennuis,
ou j'ay trouve les plus grand exemple de fortune que on
ne scauroit voir, U m'a remonstr6 son cas en la plus
mauvaise rhetorique que je viz jamais, car cueur &
paroUe luy failloient entierement ; il a bien plour6 & pri6
que le Roy & Madame voulsissent avoir pitii de luy,
s'ils avoyent trouve qu'il leur eust guarde promesse de
leur estre bon serviteur autant que son honneur & povoir
se y est peu estendre, mais il me a la fin laiss^ sans me
pouvoir dire autre chose qui valUst mieux que son visage,
qui est bien descheu de la moiti6 de juste pris : & vous
promets, Monseigneur, que sa fortune est telle que ses
erinemis, encore qu'ils soyent Angloys, ne se scauroyent
guarder d'en avoir piti6, ce nonobstant ne le laisseront de
le poursuivre jusques au bout, & ne voyt de moyen de
son salut, aussi ne fais-je sinon qu'il plaise au Roy & k
Madame de I'ayder. De legation, de sceau d'auctorit^,
I I 2

484 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
de credit il n'en demande ppint, il est ptest de Jaissei-
tout jusques a la, chemise, & que on le laisse vivre en
ung hermitage, ne le tenant ce Roy en sa mal grkce : Je
I'ay reconfort6 au mieulx que j'ay peu, mais je n'y ay
sceu faire grant chose : Depuis par un en qui ilse fie, il
m'a mande ce qu'ilvouldroit qu'on feist pour luy de la
plus grand partie, luy voyant qu'il ne touchoit au bien
des affaires du Roy qu'on luy accordast la plus raison-
nable chose qui demiande, c'est que le Roy escripvist a
ce Roy qu'il est un grand bruit de par del^ qu'il I'ait re-
cull6 d'autour de luy, & fort eslong6 de la bonne gr&ce,
en sorte qu'on diet qu'il doibve estre destruict, ce que ne
pense totalement estre comme on le diet; toutefois pour.
la bonne fraternity, qu'ils ont ensemble, & si grant com^
munication de tous leui's plus grans affaires, I'a bien
voulu prier de y avoir egard, affin qu'il n'en entre soul-
dainement quelque mauvaise fantasie envers ceulx qui
ont veu qu'en si grant solemnite & auctorit6, il ait servy
d'instrument en cette perp6tuelle amiti6 tant renommee
par toute la. Chr6tient6 ; & que si d'adventure U estoit
entre en quelque malcontentement de luy, U veuiUe ung
peu moderer son affection, comme il est bien- sur que luy
vouldront conseiUer ceulx qui sont autour de sa personne .
& au maniement de ses plus grandes affaires. Voil^,
Monseigneur, la plus raisonable de toutes ses demandes,
en laqueUe ne me veulx ing^rer de dire mon advis, si
diray-je bien qu'U n'y a personne ici qui deust prendre, a
mal teUe lettre ; & mesment la oil ils consid6reront, comme
de facit ils font, qu'il sont forces de prendre & tenir plus
que jamais votre party, & d'ad vantage asseureray bien
que la plus grant prinse qu'ils ayent peu avoir suz luy
du commencement, & qui plus leur a servi h le brouiUer
envers le Roy, a est6 qu'il d^clara a ma venue decza trop

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 485
ouvertement de vouloir aUer a Cambray, car les aultres
persuaderent au maistre ce que c'estoient, seulement pour
eviter d'estre a I'exp^dition du mariage, & outre cela
vous promets que sans luy les aultres mectoyent ce Roy
en ung terrible train de rompre la pratique de paix dont
vous escripvis quelque mot en ce temps-la, mais j'en
laissay dix fois en la plume, voyant que tout estoit rabille,
je vous les diray estant la, & je suis seur que le trouverez
fort estrange : II me semble. Monsieur, que a tout cela,
& plusieurs aultres choses que bien entendez de vous-
mesmes, on doibt avoir quelque 6gard, vous donnerez, s'il
vous plaist, advis au Roy & 'k Madame de tout cecy, aifin
qu'Us advisent ce qu'U leur plaira en faire, s'Us pensent
n'empirer par cela leurs affaires, je croy que voulen tiers,
outre ce que sera quelque charite, ils vouldront qu' on
cognoisse qu'Us ayent retire ung leur affectionn6 ser
viteur, 8e tenu pour tel par chescun, des portes d'enfer ;
mais sur tout, Monseigneur, il desire que ce Roy ne con-
¦ noisse qu'ils en ayent este requis, & que il les en ay fait
requeiir en fa^on du monde, cela I'acheveroit d'affoUer ;
car pour vous dire le vray, & hormis toute affection, je
vous asseure que la plus grant prinse que ses ennemis
ayent cue sur luy, outre celle du mariage, ce a este de
persuader ce Roy que il avoit tousjours eu en temps de
paix et de guerre inteUigence secrette a Madame, de
laquelle ladite guerre durant il avoit eu des grants pre
sens, qui furent cause que Suffolc estant k Montdidier, il
ne le secourut d'argent comme il debvoit, dont avint que
il ne prit Paris; mais ils en parlent en I'oreiUe de ce
propos, afin que je n'en soy adverty. Quant auxdits
presens, U esp^re que Madame ne le nuyra oii il en sera
parl6, de toutes aultres choses il s'en recomraande en sa
bonne grace. La fantaisie de ces seigneurs est que luy
mort ou mine, U defferent incontinent icy I'estat de

486 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
FEglise, & prendront tous leurs biens, qu'il seroit ja be->
soing que je misse en chiffre, car ils le crient en plaiiie
table ; je croy qu'ils feront de beaux miracles, si m'a diet
vosfre grant prophete au visaige brons6, que ce Roy ne
vivre gueres plus que  au quel, comme vous
scjiavez, a ce que je voy par ses escriptures, il n'a baiU6
terme que de la monstre de May. Je he veulx oubUer k
vous dire que si le Roy & Mada^ie veuUent faire quelque
chose pour le L6,gat, il faudroit se haster, encores ne
seront jamais icy ses lettres que il n'ait perdu le sceau,
toutefois il ne pense plus a cela, elleS' serviront pour le
demourant, aussi venant icy mon successeur, comme
chascun s'attend qu'il viendra dans peu des joiirS, ils luy
donnassent charge d'en parler ; le pis de son mal est qiie
Mademoiselle de Boulen a faict promettre d son amy que
il ne I'escoutera jamais parler ; cai* elle pense bien qu'U
ne le pourroit garder d'en avoir piti6.
Monseigneur, tout ce qui sera de bon en tout ce disj
cours, vous le S9aurez prendre comme tel; s'U y aura
riens qui semble party de trop d'affection, je vous suppUe
m'ayder h en excuser, & qu'il soit pris de bon part, car \k
oh la matiere seroit mauvaise si vous assureray-je bien
que I'intention n'est telle, et la dessus est bien temps pour
vous & pour moy que je facze fin a la pr&ente, me re
comraande humblement en vostre bonne gr&ce, & pryant
nostre Seigneur qu'il vous dbint bonne vie & longue.
Vostre humble ServiteuTf,
J. na BELLAY,
Evesque de Bayonne.
Dc Londres, le xvij d'Octobre.
a Monsiegneur Monseigneur
Lu Grant Maistre & Marechal de France.

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 487

LETTER XX.
Thomas Alward to Thomas Cromwell. A. D. 1529.
[ms. cotton, vitelhus e. XII. fol. 173. Orig.]
" The following Letter (says Mr. Ellis), though mutilated, pre
sents a genuine picture of one of the last interviews with which
Wolsey was favoured by his Sovereign. It is dated on the 23*.
of September; sixteen days after which the King's attorney pre
sented the indictment against him in the Court of King's Bench
upon the Statute of Provisors.
" Thomas Alward, the writer of this Letter, appears to have been
the Keeper of Wolsey's Wardrobe. He has been already inci
dentally named in the Letter which relates to the foundation of
Ipswich College."

Maister Cromwel,
In my mooste hartiest wise I [commende me] unto you ;
advertisyng the same that I have Ae\y['oered your Ires]
unto my lordis grace who did immediatly rede over [the
same'] after the redyng wherof his grace did put theym
in  and so kepte theym always close
to hym self. Th[is / note] unto you, bieause I never
sawe hym do the like bifo[r-e time] the which your lettres
his grace commaunded me  And first,
the same hertely thankyth you for your . . adver-
tysement made unto hjnn from tyme to tyme [of soche]
things as ye have written untoi his grace wherin I know
[ye have] don unto his grace singular pleasur and good
service ; and as [fw] the vain bruts which goth against

488 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
my lords [grace] I assur you as fer as may apper unto
my said [lord and] other that be his servaunts, they be
mervailous false, . . and gretely I do raervaile wherof
the same shul[«?e arise] for I assur you that in this va-
cacion tyme [dyvers] lettres wer written by the kyngs
comraaundment from [Mr. S^e]vyns unto my said lord,
by the which his adv[ise] and opinion was at sundry
tymes desired ... in the kyngs causis and affaires,
unto the which lettres [aunswer] was made from tyme to
tyme, as well by iny lords [wry]tyng as also by the send-
yng of his servaunts to the [courte with] instructions by
mouth to the kyng's highnes as the [fnater] and case did
requir. Over this the nobleraen and gentry [as 'well] in
my lords goyng to the courte as also in his retoume from
[the] same dyd mete and incounter h3mi at many places
gently [and] humaynly as they wer wonte to do. On Son-
day last my lords grace, with the Legat Campegius cam
unto the courte at Grene[!S)icAe] wher they wer honorably
receyved and accompanyed with sundry of the kings
counsaile and servaunts, and so brought bifor raasseonto
the king's presence, who graciously and benigly after the
accusturaed goodnes of his highnes, with very faraiUar
and loving acountenance did welcorae theyra. And after
communication and talkyng awhiles with my Lorde Cam
pegius, his grace talked a grete while with my lorde a
parte, which don, they departed aU to geder in to chapel.
And immediatly after dyner ray lords grace went again
unto tlie kyngs highnes beyng then in his pry vie chamber
wher they wer commonyng and talkyng to geder at the
leeste for the space of ij. houres, no person beyng present,
and a friende of myne beyng of the prive chamber told
me at my lords departur that tyme from thens ther was

ORIGINAL LETTERS. 489
as good and as familiar accountynaunce shewed and used
betwene theym as ever he sawe in his Ufe heretofor. This
don my lords grace with the legat retourned unto theyr
logyng at Maister Empson's place. On Monday in the
mornyng niy lord leving the legat at his logyng went
again unto the kyngs grace, and after long talkyng in his
privie chamber to geder, the kyng, my lord, and all the
hole counsaile sate to geder all that for'none aboute the
kyngs matiers and affaires. In the after none, my lords
grace having then with. hym the Legat Campegius, went
to the kyng's grace, and after talk3mg and communication
had a long whiUs with the legat a parte they both toke
ther leve of the kyngs highnes in as good fascion and
maner, and with asmoche gentilnes, as ever I saw bifor.
This don, the kyngs grace went himtyng. The legate
retourned to Maister Empson, and my lords grace taried
ther in counsaile til it was darke nyght. Further mor
my Lord of Suffolke, ray Lord of Rochford, Maister
Tuke, and Master Stevyns did as gently [ie]have
theymselfs, with as moche observaunce and humy[^e
to] my lords grace as ever I sawe theym do at any [tyme]
tofor. What they bere in ther harts I knowe n[o^.] Of
the premissis I have seen vrith myne ies ; wherfor I
boldely presume and thinke that they be ferre [furth]
overseen that sowth 9 the said false and untrewe reports : ,
ascerteynyng you if ye coulde marke som[e of the] chief
stirrers therof ye shulde do unto his grace [moche] plea-
siu-. Assone as ye can spede your bys3mes th[ere my] lord
wolde be very glad of your retoume. My lord wilbe on
Monday next at London. And the Legat [Ca»«]pegius
!> soweth.

490 ORIGINAL LETTERS.
shal departe shortely oute of Englonde. A[nd thus]
makynganende I commit you to the tuicion and g[widance
o/"] Almyghty God. From Saint Albons the xxiij* S[ep-]
tember. All the gentilmen of my lords chamber with the . .
. . . . 1 of commendith them hartely unto you.
Yowrs to my lytle [power] THOMAS ALVARD.
' f. rest thereof.

A TEUE DESCRIPTION,
OR RATHER
A PARALLEL
CARDINALL WOLSEY,
ARCH-mSHOP OF YORK,
AND
WILLIAM LAUD,
ARCH-BISHOP OF CANTERBVRIE, &c.
PRINTED IN THE YEKE 1641.

The following parallel between Laud and Wolsey is referred to in a
note at p. 342 of the Life of Wolsey. It was printed at the same
time and for the same purpose as the first ga/rbled edition of that
life ; namely — to prejudice Archbishop Laud in the minds of the
people. The press then teemed with pamphlets levelled at him, and
in the same volume I find two others : " The Character of anuntrue
Bishop, with a Recipe to recover u, Bishop if he were lost." And
— " England^ s Itejoycing at the Prelates Downfall, written by an
Ill-wilier to the Romish Brood :" both of the same date.

A TRUE DESCRIPTION,
OR RATHER
A PARALLEL
BETWENE
CARDINAL WOLSEY AND ARCH-BISHOP LAUD.

There be two primates, or arch-bishops throughout Eng
land and Wales, Canterburie and Yorke, both metropo-
htans, York of England, Canterburie of all England,
for so their titles runne. To the primate of Canterburie
bee subordinate thirteene bishops in England, and foure
in Wales. But the primate of Yorke hath at this time
but two sufiragans in England : naraely, the Bishops of
CarUele, and Durhara : though hee had in King Lucius
dayes, (who was the first Christian king of this our
nation) aU the prelacy of Scotland within his juris
diction : Canterburie coramanding all from this side
the River Trent to the furthest Umits of Wales ; and
York commanding aU from beyond the Trent to the
utmost bounds of Scotland, and hitherto, their prime
archiepiscopaU prerogatives may (not unproperly) be
paraUeld. In the time of Henrie the first were potent two famous
jM-elates, Anselme of Canterburie, who durst contest
against the king, and Girald of Yorke, who denyed to
give place or any precedence at all to Anselme. Thomas
Becket, who was first chancelkur, and after Arch-bishop

494 PARALLEL BETWEEN
of Canterburie, in the reigne of Henrie the Second, bore
himselfe so insolently against the king his soveraigne,
that it cost him his Ufe, being slaine in the church as he
was going to the altar. But above aU, the pride, tyrannie,
and oppression of the Bishop of Ely, in the reigne of
Richard the First,' wants example, who was at once Chan-
cellour of England, and Regent of the land, and held in
his hand at once the two Arch-bishopricks of York and
Canterburie, who never rid abroad without a thousand
horse for his guard to attend hira, whom we may well
paraUel with the now great CardinaU of France : and
need hee had of such a traine to keep himselfe from
being pulled to peeces by the oppressed prelates, and
people, equaUy extorting from the clergie and laietie;
yet he in the end, disguising himselfe in the shape of an
old woman, thinking to passe the sea at Dbver, where hee
awayted on the Strand, a pinace being hired for that
purpose, he was discovered by a sayler, and brought backe
to abide a most severe sentence. Stephen Lancthon, Arch
bishop of Canterburie, in the time King lohn, would not
absolve the land, being for sixe yeares together indicted
by the pope, till the king had payd unto him aind the
rest of the bishops, eighteene thousand markes in gold ;
and thus I could continue the pride of the prelacie, and
their great tyrannie through all the kings reignes : But
I now fall upon the promist parallel betwixt Thoiiias
Wolsey, Arch-bishop of York, and CardinaU, and Wil
liam Laud, Doctor in Divinitie, and Arch-bishop di Can
terburie. They were both the sonnes of meane and raechatiick
men, Wolsey of a butcher. Laud of a clothworker. The
one borne in Ipswich (threescore miles), the other in
Reading, thirtie miles distant from the City of London,

WOLSEY AND LAUD. 495
bothof them verie toward, forward, and pregnant grammar
schoUars, and of singular apprehensions, as suddenly
rising to the first forme in the schoole. From thence,
bemg yong, they were removed to the Vniversitie of Ox-
fprd, Wolsey admitted into MaudUn Coledge, Laud into
St. lohns ; and as they were of different times, so they
were of different statures ; yet either of them weU shapt
according to their proportions; Wolsey was of a com
petent taUnesse, Laud of a lesse size, but might be called
a prettie man, as the other a piroper man : both of in
genious and acute aspects, as may appeare by this mans
face, the others picture. In their particular coUedges
they were aUke proficients, both as active of body as
braine, serious at their private studies, and equaUy fre
quent in the schooles, eloquent orators, either to write,
speake, or dictate, daintie disputants, weU verst in philo
sophy, both moraU, physicall, and raetaphysical, as also
in the mathematicks, and neither of them strangers to the
muses, both taking their degrees according to their
time; and through the whole academic. Sir Wolsey
was caUed the boy-batchelour, and Sir Laud the Uttle
batchelour. The maine study that either df them fixt upon was
theology : for though they were conversant in aU the other
arts and sciences, yet that theysolely profest, and by that
came their future preferment ; Wolsey being Batchelour
was made schoole-master of MaudUn Schoole in Oxford :
but Laud came in time to be master of St. lohns Col-
ledge in Oxford, therein transcending the other, as also
in his degrees of Master of Art, Batchelour of Divinitie,
and Doctor of Divinitie, when the other being suddenly
cald from the rectorship of his schoole, to be resident
upon a countrie benefice, he took no more academicaU

496 l-ARALLEL BETWEEN
degrees, than the first of Batchelour, and taking a strange
aflront by one Sir Amias Paulet,' a knight in the countrie,
who set him in the stocks, he indured Ukewise divers
other disasters : but that disgrace he made the knight
pay dearely for, after he -came to be invested in his dig-
nitie. Briefely, they came both to stand in the princes
eye; but ere I proceed any further, let me give the
courteous reader this modest caveat, that he is to ex
pect from me onely a parallell of their acts and fortune,
but no legend of their Uves; it therefore briefely thus
foUoweth. Both these from academicks comming to turne cour
tiers ; Wolsey, by his diUgent waiting, came to insinuate
himselfe into the brests of the privie counseUours. His
first eraploiment was in. an embassie to the eraperour,
which was done by such^fortunate, and ahnost incredible
expedition, that by that only he grew into first grace
with King Henry the Seventh, father to King Henry the
Eighth. Laud, by the mediation and meanes vwought
by friends, grew, first into favour with King lames of
sacred memory, father to our now royaU soveraigne King
Charles. They were both at first the kings chaplaines,
Wolseyes first preferment was to bee Deane of Lincolne,
of which hee was after bishop. Lauds first ecclesiasticaU
dignity was to be Deane of Saint Davids, of which he
was after bishop also. And both these prelaticaU cour
tiers came also to be privie counseUours. Woolsey in
the beginning of Henry the Eighth's raigne,, was made
Bishop of Tourney in France, soone after Bishop of Lin
coln, and before his full consecration (by the death of
the incumbent) was ended, translated to the Arch-bishop-
rick of York, and all this within the corapasse of a yeare ;
Laud, though not so suddainly, yet very speedily was

WOLSEY AND LAUD. 497
from St. Davids removed to London, and from London
to Canterburie, and this in the beginning of the reigne of
King Charles. Thus you see they were both arch
bishops, and as Laud was never cardinall, so Woolsey
was never Canterburie.
But in some things the cardinall much exceeded Can
terburie, as in holding all these bishopricks at once,
when the other was never possest but of one at one time.
The cardinaU also held the bishoprick of Winchester,
of Worcester, Bath and Wells, with a fourth, and two
abbat-ships in commendam : He had besides an hat sent
him from Rome, and raade himselfe cardinall, (that being
before but Yorke) he might over-top Canterburie. But
our WilUam, howsoever he might have the wiU, yet
never attained to that power, and howsoever hee could
not compasse a hat from Rorae, yet made the meanes to
have a consecrated miter sent from Rome ; which was so
narrowly watcht, that it came not to his wearing. More
over, the cardinaU extorted the chancellourship from
Canterburie; but we finde not that Canterburie ever
either trencht upon the jurisdiction, or tooke any thing
away from the arch-bishoprick of York.
Woolsey Ukevrise farre out-went him in his numerous
traine, and the noblenesse thereof, being waited on not
onely by the prime gentrie, but even of carles, and carles
sonnes, who were Usted in his family, and attended hira
at his table, as also in his hospitaUtie, his open house
beirig made free for all comraers, with the rare and ex-
traordinarie state of his palace, in which there weredaily
uprising and downe-lying a thousand persons, who were
hisdomestick servants. Moreover' in his many entertain
ments of the K. with masks, and raightie suraptuous
banquets,, his .sumptuous buildings, the prince-like state
K K

498 PARALLEL BETWEEN
he carried in his forraigne embassages, into France, to the
emperor, &c. in which he spent more coyne in the service
of his king, for the honour of his countrie, and to uphold
the credit of his cardinals cap, than would (for the time)
have paid an armie royal. But I answer in behalfe of
our Canterburie, that hee had never that meanes or im-
ployraent, by which hee raight raake so vain-glorious a
show of his pontificaUtie, or archiepiscopaU dignitie : For
unbounded inindes raay bee restrained within narrow
limmits, and therefore the parallel may something hold
in this too.
They were also in their judiciall courts equally tyran
nous; the one in the chancerie, the other in the high
commission : both of them at the counceU boord, and in
the Starr e-chamber aUke draconically superciUous. Blood
dravrae frora Doctor Bonners head by the fall of his
crosse presaged the cardinals downfaU. Blood drawne
from the eares of Burton, Prin, and Bastwick, was a
prediction of Canterburies ruine; the first accidentall,
the last premeditate and of purpose l. The cardinall
¦ This mention of omens reminds me that Dr. Wordsworth in
his notes to Wolsey's Life has related the following affecting anec-
dpte of Archhishop Laud.
" The year 1639 we all know was hig with events calamitous to
Laud, and to the church and monarchy. In Lambeth Library is
preserved a small pane Of glass, in which are written with a diamond
pencil the following words :
Memorand: Bcclesise de
Micham, Ch?me et Stqne, cum aliis
fulguro combusta sunt
Januar: 14, 163f.
Omen evertat Deus.
On a piece of paper the same size as the glass and kept in the
same case with it, is written by the hand of Abp. Wake, as toU

WOLSET AND LAUD. 499
would have expelled aU the Lutherans and Protestants
out of the realme, this our Canterburie would have exil'd
both our Dutch and French church out of tbe kingdome.
The cardmall took maine deUght in his foole Patch, and
Canterburie tooke much deUght in his partie-coloured
cats. The cardinaU used for his agents Bonner and
others, Canterburie for his ministers, Duck, Lamb, and
others. They both favoured the Sea of Rome, and re
spected his hoUnesse in it. The cardinaU did professe
it pubUckly, the arch-bishop did reverence it privately.
The cardinalis ambition was to bee pope, the arch-bishop
strove to bee patriarch, they both bid fairely for it, yet
lost their aime ; and farre easier it is for raen to descend
than to ascend.
The cardinaU (as I have said) was very ambitious;
the arch-bishop was Ukewise of the same minde, though
better moulded, and of a more politick braine, having a
close and more reserved judgement in all his observations,
and more fluent in his deUverie. The cardinall was verie
curious in his attire and ornament of his body, and took
great delight in his traine, and other his servants for
their rich aparrell ; the arch-bishop his attire was neat
and rich, but not so gaudie as the cardinals was, yet
tooke as much feUcitie in his gentlemens rich aparreU^
especiaUy those that waited on his person, as ever the
cardinaU did, though other men paid for them : and if
aU men had their owne, and every bird her feather, some
of them would bee as bare as those that professe them-

lows : " This glasse was taken out of the west- window of the
gallery at Croydon before I new-built it: and is, as I take it, the
writing of Abp. Laud's own hand." K K 2

500 PARALLEL BETWEEN
selves to bee of the sect of the Adaraists : To speake
truth, the arch-bishops men were all given to covetous-
nesse and wantonnesse ; that I never heard of was in the
cardinals men.
As the cardinall was sumptuous in his buildings, as
that of White Hall, Hampton Court, &c. as also in laying
the foundation of two famous coledges, the one at Ipswich,
where he was home, the other at Oxford, where he had
his breeding : so Christ-Church, which he left unfinished,
Canterburie hath since repaired ; and wherein he hath
come short of him in building, though he hath bestowed
much on St. lohns Coledge, yet he hath out-gone him in
his bountie of brave voluminous books, being fourescore
in number, late sent to the Bodleian or Universitie Li-
brarie: Further, as the cardinall was Chancelour of
England, so Canterburie was ChanceUour of Oxford:
And as the cardinall by plucking downe of some small
abbies, to prepare stone for his greater structures, opened
a gap for the king, by which he tooke the advantage ut
terly to raze and demoUsh the rest: so Canterburie by
giving way for one bishop to have a teraporall triall ; and
to be convicted, not by the clergie, but the laitie, so he
left the sarae path open both for hiraselfe and the rest of
the episcopacie : of which, there before scarce remained
a president. I have paraUeld them in their dignities : I will con
clude with a word or two concerning their downefalls.
The cardinaU feU into the displeasure of his king, Can
terburie into an extreame hatred of the commons : both
were arrested of high treason, the cardinaU by processe,
Canterburie by parliament. The cardinall at Keywood
Castle neare Yorke, Canterburie at Westminster neare

WOLSEY AND LAUD. 501
London ; both their falls were speedy and suddaine :
The cardinall sate as this day in the high court of chan
cerie, and within two dayes after was confined to his
house ; Canterburie as this day sate at the counsell boord,
and iri the upper house of parliament, and the same day
committed to the blacke rod, and from thence to the
Tower : The cardinaU dyed at Leicester some say of a
flux; Canterburie remaines still in the Tower, onely
sick 'of a fever. Vanitas vanitatum, omnia vanitas.

I'INIS.

.S02

The Will of Thomas Wolsey^^Oardinai Wolsey's father ;
E Libra Testamentarvm in Registro principali Dni.
Epi. Norwic. Multon inscripto, fo. 146. a.

In Dei Nomine, amen. The xxxi day of the Moneth
of Septeraber the yer of our Lord God ara. ccccbcxxxvi.
I Robert Wulcy of Ipysvriche hool of mend and in good
memory beyng, make my testament and my last wyU in
this maid wyse. Fyrst, I bequeth my souU to Almyghty
God, our Lady Sent Mary, and to all the company of
hevyn, and ray body to be buryed in the churche yard
of our Lady Sent Mary of Neum'ket. Also I beq. to
the hey aut' of the pariche of Sent Nicholas of Ippyswiche
vi^ vij'? Also I beq. to the pentyng of the archangell
ther, xl'. Itra. I wyll that if Thoraas my son be a
prest, w4n a yer next after ray decesse, than I wyll that
he syng for rae and ray frends, be the space of a yer, and
he for to have for his salary x marc, and if the seyd
Thomas ray son be not a prest than I vpyU that a nother
honest prest syng for me and my frends the term afore-
seyd and he to have the salary of x marc. Itm. I wyll
that Johan my wyf have all my lands and ten*^. In the
pariche of Sent Nicholas in Ippiswich aforesaid, and my
free and bond londs in the piche of S' Stoke to geve and
to sell the residew of aU my goods afor not bequethed, I
geve and bequethe to the good disposition of Johan my
wyff, Thomas my soon, and Thomas Cady, whom I order
and make my executors to dispose for me as thei shall
think best to pies allmyghty God and p"fyt for my

THE WILL OF THOMAS WOLSEY. 503
souU; and of this ray testiment and last wyll I orden
and raake Richard Farrington sup'visour, and he for to
have for his labour xiij'- iiij''- and yf the seid Richard
deserve more he for to have more of Johan my wyff.
Itm. I beq. to the seyd Thomas Cady my. executor
aforeseyd xiij'- iUj"*- Yevyn the day yer and place above
wretyn. Probatum fiiit presens Testamentum apud Gipreic.
coram nobis Offic. Cans. Dm. Epi N&rzdc. xj die mensii
Octobris Anno Dm. Millimo cCccS" bcxxxvi. In cujus
rei testimonium SigiUum, 4-c,

504

Fisher, Bishop of Rochester.

Bishop Fisher's opposition to Henry's divorce, as noticed
by Cavendish at p. 222, subsequently cost him his head.
Besides his letter to Wolsey raaintaining the validity of
the raarriage with Catherine, pubUshed by Fiddes in his
Appendix to the Life of Wolsey, and in ColUer's Ec
clesiastical History, vol. 2 Records, he Avrote a larger
discourse in Latin, "DeCausaMatrimonii Regis Angliae,"
which was long thought to exist only in MS. But in a
late sale by public auction in London, of Don Jos Antonio
Conde's Library, a printed copy was purchased for Mr.
Heber, which appears to have issued from the press at
Alcala (Coraplutum) in Spain. The printer of which
says the manuscript copy was given him by the Arch
bishop of Toledo. It is probable that the Spanish agents
in England contrived to obtain a copy and sent it to the
emperor. It would not have been allowed to issue from
the press in England. It is remarkable that Ribadineira
in his Historia Ecclesiastica de Inglaterra, Madrid, 1588,
p. 59. rev. raentions that Fisher presented his book to
the legates. " Los que por parte de la Reyna tratavan
este negocio eran los raas graves y doctos Teologos y
Perl ados de todo el Reyno y entre ellos Gulielrao Vararao
Arfopispo Cantuariense y Primado de Inglaterra, y otros
cinco Obispos de grande autoridad: Pero el que mas se
raostrava era Juan Fischero Obispo Roffense, varon por
cierto exemplar, y no solamente lumbrera del reyno de

BISHOP FISHER. 505
Inglaterra, sino de toda la christiandad, espejo.de san-
tidad, sal del pueblo, y verdadero Doctor de la Yglesia.
El qual saUo en pubUco, y presentb a los Legados un
LiBRO doctissimo que avia escrito en defension del
MATRiMONio del Rey y de la Reyna, y amonestoles con
razonamiento gravissimo que no buscassen dificultades
donde no las avia, ni perraitiessen que se pervirtiesse la
verdad clara y manifiesta de la sagrada Escritura, y se
debilitasse la fuer^a de las leyes ecclesiasticas que en esta
causa eran evidentes, y estavan tan bien entendidas. Que
pensassen y considerassen atentamente los dafios innu-
merables que deste divorcio se podian seguir: el odio
entre el Rey Enrique y Carlos Emperador: las par-
daUdades de los principes que los seguirian : las guerras
criieles de fuera y dentro del reyno : y lo que mas im-
portava, las dissensiones en materia de la Fe, s^ismas,
heregias, y sectas infinitas. Yo dize por aver estudiado
esta materia, y gastado en eUa mucho tiempo y trabajo,
oso afirmar que no ay en la tierra potestad que pueda
deshazer este matrimonio, ni desatar lo que Dios ato.
Y esto que digo no solamente lo pruevo claramente en
ESTE LiBRO, con los testimonias irrefragable de la sagrada
Escritura, y de los santos Doctores, pero tambien estoy
apapejado a defenderlo con el derramamiento de mi
sangre : dixolo Roffense, y corao lo dixo, assi cumplio.
Ariendo hablado de esta raanera aquel varon iUustre por
la fama de su doctrina, exceUente por la santidad de la
vida, admirable por la dignidad de Perlado, y por sus
canas venerable." Ribadineira says that four other
Doctors, and three Bishops, also offered other books
which they had composed in defence of the vaUdity of
the Queen's marriage : the proof of this assertion is yet
to seek.

506 BISHOP FISHER.
A manuscript copy of Fisher's book is said to be
among those presented by the Duke of Norfolk to the
Royal Society. We may hope to have all that relates to
this venerable prelate in a more tangible form when the
Rev. John Lewis's Life of him shall be given to the
world. I have the satisfaction to add that it has been
some time at press, under the editorial care of the Rev.
Theodore WilUams of Hendon, and cannot fail to prove
a valuable addition to Ecclesiastical Biography.

507

The Instrument of the King's gift to the Cardinal after
his forfeiture by the premunire, which so much re
vived his hopes, is printed by Rymer and by Fiddes.
The foUowing is the Schedule appended to it. V. Life,
p. 291.

The Money, Goods, and CatteUs, given by the King's
Grace to the Lorde CardinaU, whereof mention is raade ,
in the King's Lettres Patentes hereunto annexed.
Fyrste in Redy Money, mmm Ii.
Itera, in Plate, Nyne Thowsand F3rve Hundred Thre-
score Fyve oz. dim. quarter, at iij" viij'' the oz. amounteth
to MDCCLII Ii. uj' viU''.
Item, Dyvers AppareU of Houshold, as Hangyngs,
Beddyng, Napry, and other thyngs, as appereth by the
Inventorie of the same — amountyng in Value by Estima
tion, DCCC Ii.
Item, In Horses andGeldyngs bcxx with their Apparel,
valued by Estimation,^CLZi.
Item, in Mules for the Saddell vi. with their Apparell,
valued by Estiraation, lx Ii.
Item, in Mules for Carriage vi with their Apparell,
valued by Estimation, xl Ii.
Item, in Lyng on thowsand valued by Estimation,
XL Ii.
Item, in Cod and Haberden viij c valued by Estima
tion, XL Ii.

508 SCHEDULE.
Item, in Salt viii Waye valued by Estimation, x I.
Item, in Implements of the Kytchen as Potts, Pannes,
Spitts, Peawter VesseU, and other things necessarie for
the same, valued by Estimation, lxxx I.
Item, Lii. Oxen valued by Estiraation, lxxx I.
Item, in Muttons lxx valued by Estimation xii I.
Item, the AppareU of his Body, valued by Estimation,
ccc I. Suraraa, vi M. ccc. Ixxiv. I. iij' vii? ob.

509

A Memoryall of suche Communication as my Lorde
Legatts grace had with the Quenes Almoner.
[ex. MS. INTElt ARCHIVA ACADEMIA CANTABRlG.]
This interesting paper is published in Fiddes, from the com
munication of the learned and Reverend Mr. Baker. It is so
necessary a supplement to the very interesting interview of the
two Cardinals with Katherine, given by Cavendish, that I could
not resolve to withhold it from the reader, who may not chance
to have ready access to Dr. Fiddes' ponderous volume.

Fyest my lordes grace taking for introduction & com
mencement of his graces purposes & devyses, excogitate
by the sarae for the totaU extermination of suche heresies
as daily encreased in Cambrydge: & that his grace
thought more convenyent the same to be done by the
commyssaries then the Bysshops of Rochester or EUe,
shewed his pleasure & detenriination was to send him
thyther, as weU for that he was of good reputation &
credytt there, beinge a M'"^ of a coUedge in the same, as
also for that he had in tymes passed used hym in lyke
busyness. To which the said M" AJmoner, fyrst ex
cusing the remission of his wonte and bounde offyce &
dewtie in vysitinge his grace, & most humbUe beseching
the same not to impute yt as preceding of any alienation
of his trewe hart & devotion he bare unto the same, an
swered, that he woold most gladly taike upon him the
said provmce & jomey ; desyringe nevertheles his grace
that he might defer the sarae untyU 20 dayes were past &
expired, in which space he raight weU performe his re-

510 auEEN Catherine's objections, etc
sidence at Wyndesore. Unto which petycyon his grace
condescendyng, & takynge the same as a fuU resolution
in that behalfe, pretendinge also to have had noon other
cause or matter unto hira, fynished that communicacion,
and sodenly asked hym what tydyngs he had hard of
late in the courte .'' —
To this he answered, that he hard noon, but that yt
was much bruted that a Legatt shuld come hyther into
England. — Whereuppon his grace inferred what the
quene thought of his coraynge, and for what purpose he
should come .''  To this he said, that she was fully
perswaded & believed that his coraynge -was only for the
decision of the cause of raatriraonie dependinge betweene
her & the kinges highnes.
Hereupon my lordes grace taking^ just occasion further
to entre in this raater, & fyrste makyng rehersall of son-
drie excellent benefitts with which his grace had indewed
hym, to thend he shuld doo the kings highnes trewe 8e
faithfuU service, & sithe adjuring him upon his fideUtie,
his othe, & sub sigillo confesmms, and suche other
obtestations, to conceale & kepe secrete whatsoever his
grace shuld then communicate unto hym, and never to
propale the same to any man lyvyng, oonles he had ex
presse comraanderaejat by the kyngs highnes or his grace
so to doo, desyred hyra that he wold faithfuUy entierly
& hooly declare unto his grace aU & singuler soche
thinges as he knewe of the quenes dysposicion, minde,
sayings, purpose & intent in this mattier.
To this tihe said M' Almoner fyrst aUeging & de-
clairing of how singuler and perfytt devocyon he was
towards the kyngs hyghnes and my lords grace, & that
he wold not oonly be moost redy to execute his commande-
ments, but also to kepe secrete suche things as his grace

ftUEEN Catherine's objections, etc. 511
shuld wyll bun so to doo : answered, that he hard the
quene oft saie that yf in this cause she myght attaine &
injoye her naturall defence & justice, she distrusted no
thing butt yt should taike suche effecte as shuld be
acceptable both to God & man. And that for theese
causes : —
Fyrst for that it was in the ieies of God moost plaine
& evydent that she was never knowen of Prince Arthure.
Secondly, for that neyther of the judges were competent,
being bothe the kings subjects, beneficed within his
realme, & delegate from the pope at the contemplation of
the king, she being never hard, ne adraytted to her de
fence. Thirdly, for that she ne had ne myght have
within this realme any indifferent counsaUe. Fynally,
for that she had in Spaine two buUes, the oone beinge
latter daite than the other, but bothe of suche effy-
cacie & strengthe, as shulde sone remove all objections
& cavyllations to be maide to thinfringing of this matry-
monie. To this my lord's grace replying said, he raarvelled
not a lyttle of her so undyscrete ungodly purposes &
sayings, which caused hira to conceyve that she was ney
ther of suche perfection, ne vertue as he had thought in
tymes past to have been in her : k so entering in refuta
tion of aU the premisses said : —
Fyrst, where she saithe that she was not knowen of
Prince Arthure, verely it is a weake & much unsure
grownde for her to leane unto, being so urgent & vehe
ment presumptions non solum Juris, sed etiam de Jure
to the contrarie, which and of eongreuence ought to wey
more in every equaU judges brest then her symple allega
tion. For it cannot be denied but that bothe he k she
was then of suche yers as was mete and hable to explete

512 aUEEN CATHERlilE's OBJECTIONS, ETCi
that act. It is also verey notarie, that thei dyd lye toge^
thet, bothe here & in WayUes, by the space of three
quarters of a yere. Furthermore, nothing was so muche
desyred of bothe there parentes as the consumraation of
the said act : Insomuche that the counsailers of Ferdi-
nando being resident here for that purposse dyd send the
sheets thei ley in, spotted with bloude, into Spaine, in
full testimonye & prouf therof. The counsaiUers also of
bothe parties moste soleranelye sworne affearrae in there
treaties & saien that the matrymonie was consummate by
that act. Forthermore the comen voyce through Eng
land is, that the said Prince Arthure shuld oftymes boost
oon mornyng how ofte he had been the nyght before in ,
the myddes of Spaine : Insomuche that commonlye his
so primature deathe was iraputed onely to nimio coitu.
Fynally, King Hemy Vllth of blessed memorie, wold
not by certaine space after the deathe of the saide prince,
permytte or suffer that the kings highnes shuld injoye
the name & tytle of Prince, onely for that it was
dowbted by such as than was most abowte the quene
whether she was conceaved wyth chylde or noo. And
therefore these presumptions beinge of suche sorte &
nature, my lords grace said, the quene shuld do lyke
neyther wyse ne vartuouse lady to adhere partinacely tos
the contrarie.
To the seconde his grace repUed, saying that if she
shuld refuse and decline the judgment of those parsons
unto whome the pope's hoUness had delegated the exa
mination of this cause, she shuld not do well, butt so
doing rather incurr the indignacyon of the see aposto-.
lique, deserve the obloque & hatred of all good chossin
people & ingenerate in there hartes a perpetual! hate &
enmitie against her. For sythe the popes hoUnes pro-

auEEN Catherine's objections, etc. 513
ceadythe in thys commyssyon at the intercession or mo
tion of no partie, but onely ex mero motu past&rali
officio, & sith that his holines notwithstanding he being
notoriously certyfied that they be the kings subjects, &
benefyced within his realme hathe approved there par
sons as moost mete and worthie to have the hole de
cision of this cawse comraytted unto them : with that also
theire parsons be qualyfyed with so hyghe preemynence
& dignitie, as by the common lawe cannot be refused as
suspect. FynaUie sythe the same parsons being straitly
commanded by the king's hyghnes, all affection of mede
or drede set apart, onely to attend, waye, regard & con-
syder the justyce of the cawse as they shall therunto an
swere on perell of there o-wne sowles & his dreadfuU in-
dignacion, have no cawse which thei shuld. varye or
deflect their sentence otherwyse than justyce shaU require,
specially in a cawse of suche wayght & importance, &
wherin they for unrighteouse judgement shuld acquire
nothing els but theire owne dampnation, etemall igno-
minie & indignation of theire prince : yf she shuld refuse
suche parsons as suspect, it might well be saide that she
geveth tytles honour to the auctoritie of the churche, &
that this realme were marvelouslie destytute of men of
sincere leamyng & conscience, to the great slaunder of
the same.
And fynally his grace said, that yf this exception
shuld be adraytted as suffycyent cawse of recusation, for
that they be benefyced by the kings hyghnes, than this
cawse of matrymonie myght nowhere be ventylated or
dyscussed within Christindone, for that there are no
parsons of auctorite & lernyng in any regyon out of
this realme, againe whome the king's highnes might not
alleadge, in lyke manner, lyke cawse of recusation &

514 auEEN Catherine's objections, etc.
suspicion. The pope's hoUnes & the hoUe clargie of
YtalUe, Flaunders, Spaine, Denmarke & Scotlande, being
now eyther confederate or in thraldome & captivitie of
the emperor's tyranny.
To the third, concerning counsaiUors to be retained
on her behalf, my lords grace saide, that although he
was ryght well assured of the kings singuler propencyon
& inclination to justyce, & that above all things his
pleasour was justyce shuld be equally raynistred to
eyther parte in this cawse, being also never wyUing or in
mynde at any tyme, but that she shuld have aide and
assistance of so well lemed men, so wyse, and of so good
conscience, as might any be founde within this realme :
yet his grace thought that consydering the nature of this
cawse to be of suche sorte, as necessarily impUethe the
hole tytle of succession of this realme, lyke as yt were
not expedyent, ne myght in any wyse be suflxed withowt
great dangler & perell which might therby ensue, to
maike any aUene or straunger previe herunto, specially
the Spaniards having now intelUgence with the King of
Scotts ; So his grace thought that the quene wold not
insyst in so fryvolous petition, which might never be
graunted unto her, but be content to admytt and adhybyt
suche lemed men as be here in this region her counsail-
lors, namely suche as by theire othes solempnly raaide &
vowed, & by expresse commandement et optima gratia
of the king's highnes, shuld withowt frawde or corruption
shew unto her theire sentence and openions: and de-
syring the contrarie hereof his grace said she shuld doe
nothing but declare her owne sensuaU affection to sett
forthe that whiche, aU due prouf, bothe by Gods lawe &
mans law hath justly condemned. And thus ended my
lords graces talke with M'' Almoner.

QUEEN Catherine's objections, etc ' 515
*^* Robert Shorten S. T. P. then master of Pem
broke HaU and canon of Windsor was almoner to the
queen, preferr'd by her to the deanery of Stoke Suffolk,
the same that was intemuncius cardinaU de evocandis
viris doctis Cantabrigia Qxoniam, and sometime dean of
the cardinal's chapel.

l2

516

Itinerary of Cardinal Wolseys last Journey Northxvard,
1530.

He set out from Richmond at the beginning of Passion
Week, but we know not on what precise day. The
first days journey was to Hendon in Middlesex, where
he lodged for the night at the house of the abbot of
Westminster. The next day he removed to a place caUed the Rye,
the abode of the Lady Parry.
The third day to Royston, where he lodged in the
monastery. The fourth day to Huntingdon, where he sojourned
for the night in the abbey.
On Palm Sunday he reached the Abbey of Peterbo
rough, which he made his abode until the Thursday in
Easter week, his train for the most part being at board
wages in the town. Here he celebrated Palm Sunday,
going with the monks in procession, and bearing his
palm with great huiniUty. He kept his Maunday on
the Thursday so named, vrith the accustomed ceremonies
and bounties to the poor. On Easter Sunday he also
went in procession in his cardinal's habit, and performed
the service of high mass very devoutly.
From Peterborough he went to -visit his old friend
Sir WiUiam FitzwiUiams, about four miles from thence,
who received him with great joy and hospitality. He

wolsey's last journey. 517
went there on Thursday in Easter week and remained
until the Monday foUovring, on which day he went to
Stamford and lay there that night.
On Tuesday he went to Grantham, where he lodged
in the house of a gentleman named HaU.
j On Wednesday he removed to Newark, where he
rested in the castle.
, On Thursday to SouthweU, where was a palace be
longing to his see of York, but this being out of repair
he was lodged in the house of one of the prebends. At
Whitsuntide he removed into the palace, keeping a
noble table, where he was visited by the chief persons of
the country.
At the latter end oi grease time he reinoved to Scroby,
another house belonging to his see of York, being as
much regretted at SouthweU as he was greeted at Scroby.
In his way to Scroby he took Welbeck or Newsted
Abbey, from thence to Rufford Abbey to dinner, and
slept at Blythe Abbey, reaching Scroby on the foUowing
day, where he remained until Michaelmas.
¦ About Michaehnas day he removed to his seat of
Cawood Castle, twelve miles (said by Cavendish to be
only seven) from York, and in his way thither he lay
two nights and a day at St. Oswald's Abbey, where he
held a confirmation. He lay at Cawood long after, says
Cavendish, with much honour.
His clergy here waited upon him to take order for his
inthronization, which he seeras to have desfred should be
conducted with as little pomp as possible. The ceremony
was fixed to take place on the Monday after AU HaUown
Tide, but he was arrested on the Friday before (fourth
of November) at Cawood, by the Earl of Northumber
land and Mr. Welsh.

518 wolsey's last journey.
They left Cawood with hira in custody on Sunday the
sixth. The first night he was lodged in the Abbey of
Pomfret. The next day [7*] they removed to Doncaster.
The third day [8*] to Sheffield Park, a seat of the
Earl of Shrewsbury (afterwards appointed by Queen
Elizabeth for the meeting of her and Mary Queen of
Scots, which never took place), where he continued
eighteen days, being there seized -with the flux. Here
Sir Wilham Kingston the Constable of the Tower came
to take charge of his person, and on Thursday the
twenty-fourth of November they set forward, the car
dinal hardly able to sit upright on his mule. They
passed the night at Hardwicke upon Line in Notting
hamshire. (See note on the Life^ p. 379.)
On Friday the twenty-fifth they rode to Nottingham,
and lodged there that night.
On Saturday the twenty-sixth at night, they reached
Leicester Abbey ; he had many times Uke to have faUen
from his mule by the way ; telUng the abbot as he en
tered he had come to lay his bones among them. He
gradually became worse, and died at eight o'clock in the
morning of Tuesday November the twenty-ninth.

519

Beside the solemn mass performed by Cardinal Wolsey upon the ra
tification of peace between the French and English kings, which is
described at p. 190 of the Life, he officiated at another great cere
mony of thanksgiving upon occasion of the Pope's deliverance from
captivity. The particulars of which are preserved in the archives of
the Herald's College in an ancient book written by Thomas Walle,
Windsor Herald, and published by Dr. Fiddes at p. 179 of his
CoUections. For the convenience of the reader who may not possess
Dr. Fiddes's Lifi of Wolsey, I have thought it desirable io place
this curious relation in my Appendix.

The Camming and Reseyving of the Lord Cardinall into
Powles for the Escaping of Pope Clement VII. A. D.
1527. A" Regni Henrici VIII. xix*.

Memoeaijdum that the fifth day of January beyng Sun
day even in the year aforesaid, the Lord Thomas Wolcy
CardinaU of Yorke &c, landyd betweene eight of the
clocke and nyne in the morninge at the Black fryars at
London, with great company of noblemen and gentle
men, where met with hira the Erabassadours of the Pope,
of the Emperour, the Frenche kinge, of Venise, of Flo
rence, of Millain. And so procedyd on horseback unto
Powles church dore, where they did aUght. And ther
the officers of armes lon^ng unto the king, gave there
theu-e attendance, and at his aUghting put on there
sootes of armes. And here was also foure of the doctors,
prebendarys of the sayd Powles, in copes and grey amys,
which bare a rich canape over him of cloth of gould.
And so the lord cardinaU procedyd, havyng themperours
embassadour on his right hand, and the Frenche kinges

520 CEREMONY AT ST. PAUL's.
[embassadour] on his Ufte hand", untill he came to the
marches where was prepared a bank with quyshions and
carpets, where the said Lord kneled, and there mete him,
in PontificaUbus, the Bushop of London, the Bushop of
jSt. Asse [Asaph] which censyd him : And the Bushop
of Lincoln, the Bushop of Bath, the Bushop of Llandaff,
the Lord Priour of Westra', the Priour of St. Saviours,
th Abbots of Stratford, and of TowerhiU, the Priour of
Christ-churche, of St. Mary Spytell, with other to the
sorae of xvi raiters. And so the procession of the hole
quyer procedyd fourth, havyng thambassadours with him
as afore, up to the quier, and so to the high aultier, wher,
his oblation doon, he went with him into his travers, and
duringe that the howre was a singing he was revestyd in
PontificaUbus, and then he with aU the other prelats, the
quiere of Powles and his hole quiere, with his suit of rich
copes, went in procession within the said church, the
officers of arms about hira, and next after him thembassa-
dours, and then the Mayor of London, and the other
estates and gentlemen, with the aldermen of the cittie.
The procession doon, the Masse of the Trinity was
begun, songen by the Byshop of London ; the Priour of
St. Mary Spittell Gospeller ; the Priour of Christ Church
Pistoler. The masse doon the lord cardinall with the
other prelatz went unto the quyer dore, where Doctor
Capon declaryd the calamities, miseries, and the oppro
brious deeds and works, with the great sufirance that
our mother the Holy Churche hath suffryd, not aUonly
by the Lutherian sorte, which was lyke to have sortyd
to an ungracious effecte ; but also now of late of the
great unhappy deUngs of the Payriymes, and violators of
our Christien faith, the men of warr belonging to the em
peror. In the sorrowful destructiori of Rome, where they.

CEREMONY AT ST. PAUL's. 521
like miscreantz, nothing regarding nother God nor shame,
-violentlye tooke and by force imprisoned our Holy Father
the Pope, the which now of late by the helpe of our Lord
God, which se his churche in p'dicion, did releive hit
againe ; insomuch that our said Holy Father is escapyl
their hands, wherfore the Lord Legats grace by the kings
comraandement hath here caused as this day, this noble
assemble to be had, to the end that lauds praysings and
congratulations might be gyven by all true Christien
people mito Almighty God, and the hole company of
Heaven. And thus doing, the said lord cardinall did give his
benediction to all the people. Which Doctor Capon
sayd, much more than I can reherse, and this doon the
sayd lord retoumyd to the aultier wher the lord cardinal
began Te Deum, the which was solempnly songen with
the kingis trurapetts and shalmes, as weU Inglishmen as
Venysians, which doon every man repayred home. And
the Lord Legat Cardinall went to his place to dynner,
and the embassadours with him.
Copied out of an ancient book written by Thomas
Walle Windsore, and aflerwa/rds Garter, folia 126.
Examined by us, WILLIAM LE NEVE.
L. YORKE.
DANCER HANCOCKE.

522

The Ceremonial of receiving the CardinaVs Hat, sent by
the Pope to Wolsey. Extracted frora a MS. in the
Herald's Office. Ceremon. vol. 3. p. 219.
[from riDDES' COLLECTIONS. See p. 92.]

In the yeare of our Lord 1515, the 15"' dale of November,
being Thursdaie and the seaventh yeare of our sovereigne
lord King Henry the Eight, the said prothonitary enter'd
into London, which before according was mett bothe at
the sea side, Ukewise at Canterbury and at Rochester
with the bishop of the same, and at Black Heath theare
mett with hira the Reverend Father in God the Bishop
of Lincolne, theLlarle of Essex, and raany other gent, of
great honour, both spiritual and teraporal, and soe pro
ceeded through London, the Bishop of Lincolne ridinge
on the right hand [of] the said prothonitary and the
Earle of Essex on his left hand, having with thera sixe
horses or aboVe, and they all weU beseeraing and keeping
a good order in their proceeding. The Maior of London
with the aldermen on horseback in Cheapside, and the
crafte stoode in the streets after there custome : and when
the said Hatt was comen to the Abbey of Westminster,
wheare at the north door of the sarae was redie th Abbot
and eight abbotts besides him, all in pontificalibus, and
honorabiUe received it ; and in like sort the same con-
veied to the high alter, whearuppon it was sett. The
Sundaie next following, the eightenth dale, the most
Reverend Father in God my Lord Cardinal, well ac
companied with noble and gentlemen, both spiritual and

THE CEREMONIAL, ETC. 523
temporal, being on horseback, as knights, barons, bishops,
carles, dukes, and arch-bishops, aU in due order pro
ceeded from his place betwixt eight and nyne of the clocke
to the abbey ; and at the dore beforesaid, his grace with
aU the noble men descended from their horses and went
to the high alter, wheare on the south side was ordeyned
a goodlie travers from my Lord Cardinal, and when his
grace was comen into it, imediateUe began the Masse
of the Holy Ghost, songen by the Arch-bishop of Can
terbury, the Bishop of Luicoln GospeUer, and the Bishop
of Excester Epistoler, th Arch Bishops of Armachan and
Dublyn, the Bishops of Winchester, Duresme, Norwiche,
Ely, and Landaffe, and -vUi abbotts, as of Westminster,
Saint Albans, Bury, Glastonbury, Reading, Glocestre,
Winche-Combe, Tewkesbury, and the Prior of Coventrie,
aU in pontificaUbus. The Bishop of Rochester was crosier
to my Lord of Canterbury during the mass. M" Doctor
CoUet, Deane of Powles, made a brief coUation or pro
position, in which especiaUy he touched thre things. That
is to witt, the name of a cardinal, and wheareof it is said,
alsoe the highe honour and dignitie of the same, and as
keeping the articles due and belonging to it, and by what
meanes he obtained to this high honour chieflie, as by his
own merits, theare naminge divers and sundrie vertues that
he hath used, which have been the cause of his high and
joyous promotion to all the realme. The second cause
of his promotion was through our sovereigne lord the
king, for the greate zeale and favour that our holy father
the pope hath to his gi-ace. The second thing, is touch
ing the dignitie of a prince as having power judicial.
The third, of a bishop signifying both the old and newe
lawe, and havinge the power of them, and also the highe
and great power of a cardinal, and howe he betokeneth

524 THE CEREMONIAL OP
the free bearaes of wisdorae and charitie, which the
apostles received of the HoUe Ghoste on Whitsundaie,
and a cardinal representeth the order of seraphin, which
continuaUy brenneth in the love of the glorious Trinity ;
and for thies considerations a cardinal is oneUe apparrelled
with redd, which coUour oneUe betokeneth nobleness;
and howe these three estates before named be collocated
and placed in heaven, also he exhorteth theare my lord
cardinal, saying to hira in this wise: Non magnitudo
superbum extollat nobilitatissimum honorisq ; dignitate.
But remember that our Saviour in his owne person said
to his disciples, Now veni ministrari, sed ministrare ,• 6f
qui minor inter vos hie maior regno Cehrum, et qui se
exaltat humiliabilitur, Sj- qui se humiliat exaltabitur ,- my
lord cardinal, be glad and enforce your selfe always to
doe and execute righteousness to riche and poore, and
mercy with truth; and desired all people to praie for
him that he raight the rather observe these poynts, and
in accomplishinge the same what his reward shall be in
the Kingdom of Heaven ; and so ended. The Bull was
read by Doctor Vecy, Deane of the King's Chappell, and
Excestre, and at Agnus Dei came forth of his travers my
Lord Cardinal and kneeled before the middle of the high
alter, wheare for a certayne tyme he laye gravelUng, his
hood over his head, during benedictions and prayers,'
concerning the high Creation of a Cardinal, said over
him by the Right Reverend Father in God the Arch-
Bishop of Canterburie, which alsoe sett the hatt uppon
his head. Then Te Deum was sung. All service and
ceremonies finished, my Lord came to the doore before-
named, led by the Dukes of Norffolk and Suffolk, where
his grace with all the noble men ascended uppon their.
horses, and in good order proceeded to his place by

RECEIVING THE CARDINAL's HAT. 525
Charing Crosse, next before him the crosse, preceeding
it the mace such as belongeth a cardinal to have, and
then my Lord of Canterbury, havinge no crosse home
before hun, with the Bishop of Winchester, before them
the Duke of Norffolk and Suffolk together, and in Uke
order the residue of the noblemen, as the Bishop of
Durham with the Popes Orator, then the Marquess
Dorsett with the Earle of Surrey, the Earle of Shrews-
burie, the Earle of Essex, the Earle of Wiltshke, the
Earle of Derby, the Lord of St. Johns, the Lord Fitz-
water, the Lord of Burgaveny, the Lord Dawbeny, the
Lord WiUoughby, the Lord Hastings, the Lord Ferrers,
the Lord Lattimer, the Lord Cobham, and the Lord
Darcey, Sir Henry Marney, Sir John Peche, Sir Thomas
a Parr, Sir Nicholas Vaux, and so aU other Banneretts,
Knyghts, and Gentlemen before, after their degrees, and
foUowing his grace the Arch-bishop of Armachan and
Dublyn, the Bishops of Lincolne and Norwiche, Excestre,
Ely, and Rochester, and the  , after them, my
Lords Cardinals place, being well sorted in every behalfe,
and used with goodUe order, the haU and chambers gar
nished very sumptuousUe with riche arras, a great feast
kept as to suche a highe and honourable creation be
longeth. At the which were the King & Queene and the
French Queene, with aU the noblemen above specified,'
alsoe present at the creation the Lord Fineaux, the Lord
Read, the Barons of the Exchequer, with other Judges
and Seijeants at Law. FINIS.

POEMS. BY
GEORGE CAVENDISH.

The Poems of George Cavendish, which accompany the
Life of Wolsey in the Original Autograph Manuscript,
consist of a series of Visions upon the Fortunes and Fall
of the most eminent Persons of his time.
The reader is here presented with the Prologue ; the
Legend of Wolsey ; and the Author's Address to his
Book ; with two stanzas from a long Epitaph on Queen
Mary. This specimen, it is presumed, will be deemed
sufficient to convey an idea of the style of Cavendish in
verse. It should be remembered, that the Mirror for
Magistrates, which subsequently became so popular, had
not then been given to the world. Cavendish, therefore,
may have formed his plan from Lydgate's FaU of Princes.
Traces of the same kind of versification, which is evi
dently intended to depend more on rhythmical cadence
than the number of feet in the verse, wiU be found in
Skelton, in Stephen Hawes, Nicholas Grimoald, and
other contributors to Tottel's MisceUany of Songes and
Soimettes. In the MS. copy there is no punctuation ;
but instead we have the mark of the pause or caesura in
the middle and occasionally at the end of the line ; as
may be remarked in the example on the plate of fac
similes.

PROLOUG DE L' AUCTOR G. C.

In the monyth of June, I lyeng sole alon
Under the umber l of an oke with bowes pendant.
Whan Phebus in Gemynys had his course overgon
And entered Cancer, a sygne retrogradant.
In a mean measure his beams radyant.
Approaching Leo, than mused I in mynd
Of fykkellness of Fortune and the course of kynd^ ;
How some are by fortune exalted to riches,
And often such as most unworthy be ;
And some oppressed in langor and sykness.
Some wayUng, lakkyng welthe, by wretched povertie ;
Some in bayle and bondage, and some at Ubertie :
With other moo gystes 3 of fortune varyable ;
Some pleasant, some mean, and some onprofitable.
But after dewe serche and better advisement,
I knewe by Reason that oonly God above
RewUthe thos thyngs, as is most convenyent.
The same devysing to man for his behove ^ ;
Wherefore Dame Reason did rae persuade, and move

¦ umber, i. e. shade, ombre, Fr. " kynd, is nature.
' gystes, or gests, are actions.
* For his behove, for his behoof or advantage.

528 POEMS.
To be content with ray small estate.
And in this matter no more to vestigate.
Whan I had debated aU thyng in ray raynd,
I well considered myne obscure blyndness ;
So that non excuse could I see or fynd.
But that my tyme I spent in idelnes ;
For this me thought, and trew it is doughtles.
That since I ame a reasonable creature,
I owght my reason and wytt to put in ure^.
Than of what matter myght I devise to wright.
To use my tyme and wytte to excercyse,
Sithe most men have no pleasour or deUght
In any history, without it sownd to -rice :
Alass ! shold I than, that ame not young attise
With lewed ballatts, faynt harts to synne.
Or fiatter estatts^ sorae favor of thera to wynne.
What than shall I wright ? the noble doughtyness
Of estatts that used is now a dayes ?
I shall than lak raatter ; for gredy covetousnes
Of vayne riches, whiche hathe stopt all the wayes
Of worthy chyvaUry, that now dayly sore dekayes :
And yet thoughe some behave them nobly.
Yet some ther be that dayly doth the contrarye.

' To put in ure, i. e. to put in use. Thus in Ferrex and Porrex,
by Sackville :
And wisdome willed me -without protract
In speedie wise to put the same in ure.
° estatts, i. e. nobles, persons of riink or great estate.

BY OEORGE C.VVENDISH. 50y
For some lovyth meat fynne and deUcious,
And some baudye? brothes, as their educasion hath be ;
So some lovethe virtue, and some tales vicious :
Sewerly suche tales get ye non of me.
But to eschewe aU ociosite.
Of Fortune's fykeUnes hereafter shall I wright.
How greatest estatts she overthrowyth by myght.
Thoughe I onworthe this tragedy do begyne.
Of pardon I pray the reders in meke wyse ;
And to correct where they se fault therein.
Reputing it for lak of connyng exercyse.
The cause that moved me to this enterprise
EspecyaUy was that all estatts myglit see
What it is to trust to Fortune's mutabylitie.
With pen and ynke I toke this work in hand,
Redy to vraght the deadly dole and whofuU playnt
Of them whose faU the world doth understand ;
Which for feare made my heart to faynt :
I must wright plajm ; colours have I none to paynt ;
But termes rude their dolours to corapile ;
An wofuU playnt must have an wofuU style.
To whome therefore for helpe shaU I nowe call ?
Alas ! CaUope my calling will utterly refuse ;
For mornyng dities and woo of Fortune's falle

' This word was used by our ancestors to signify any thing
greasy or filthy ; the revolutions of language have at length con
fined it to one only of its ancient acceptations, that of obscenity.
M M

530 roEMs.
CaUope dyd never in hir dyties use ;
WTierefore to hir I raight my self abuse :
Also the Musis that on Pamasus syng
Suche warblyng dole did never temper stryng.
Now to that Lord whose power is celestiaU,
And gwydyth all thyng of sadnes and of Hysse,
With humble voyce to the I crie and caU,
That thou wouldest direct my sely^ pen in this :
For, wantyng of thy helpe, no marvel thoughe I mysse ;
And by thy grace, though ray style be rude.
In sentence playne I raay fuU weU conclude.
I Nowe by thy helpe this hystory I will begyn,
j And from theffect varie nothing at aU ;
For if I shold, it ware to me great synne
To take uppon rae a matter so substancyall.
So waytie, so necessarie, of fame perpetuall :
And thus to be short, oon began to speke
With deadly voyce, as thoughe his hart wold breke.

' sely, i. e. simple.

I'TNIS QUOD ci. c.

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 531
LE HISTORYE
CARDINALIS EBORACENSIS.

0 Fortune ! (quoth he) shold I on the complayn.
Or of my negUgence, that I susteyn this smart ?
Thy doble visage hathe led rae to this trayne ;
For at my begynnyng thou dydst ay take my part,
UntiU ambysion had puffed up my hart
With vainglory, honor, and usurped dignytie,
Forgettyng cleane my naturall mendycitie.
From povertie to plentie, which now I see is vayn, i
A cardinal I was, and legate de latere,
A byshope and archbysshope, the more to crease my gayn
ChaunceUor of Englond, Fortune by hir false flatterie \
Dyd me advance, and gave rae such auctorytie I
That of hyghe and lovr I toke on rae the charge, j
AU England to rewle, my power extendyd large. [
Whan Fortune with favor had set rae thus aloft,
I gathered me riches ; suffisance could not content ;
My fare was superfluous, my bed was fyne and soft ;
To have my desiers I past not what I spent :
In yerthe, such abondaunce Fortune had me lent,
Yt was not in the world that I could weU requier.
But Fortune strayt wayes did graunt me ray desier.
M M 2

532 poems.
My byldyngs soraptious, the roffes with gold and byse^
Shone lyke the sone in myd day spere,
Craftely entayUed l as connyng could devise.
With iraages erabossed, most Uvely did appere ;
Expertest artificers that ware both farre and nere.
To beautyfie my howssys, I had them at ray will :
Thus I wanted nought my pleasures to fuUfiU.
My galleries ware fayer both large and long.
To walke in them whan that it lyked me best ;
My gardens sweet, enclosed with walles strong.
Embanked with benches to sytt and take my rest ;
The knotts so enknotted, it cannot be exprest^.
With arbors and alyes so pleasant and so dulce.
The pestylent ayers with flavors to repulse.
My chambers gamysht with arras fynne,
Importyng personages of the lyvelyest kynd :
And whan I was disposed in them to d3mne.
My clothe of estate there ready did I fynd,
Fumysshed complett according to ray mynd ;
The subtyll perfumes of rauske and sweet amber.
There wanted non to perfume all ray chamber.

" gold and byse, is gold and purple.
' entayUed, i. e. carved, vide p. 300.
2 This is no uninteresting picture of the seclusion desired by our
ancestors in the old geometric style of gardening. Of this curious
knot-garden of Wolsey the remains are still to be seen at Hampton
Court, the maze there forming part of it.

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 533
Plate of all sorts most curiously wrought.
Of facions new, I past not of 3 the old.
No vesseU but sylver before me was brought,
FuU of dayntes vyands, the sorae cannot be told ;
I dranke my wynne alwayes in sylver and in gold :
And daylye to serve me, attendyng on ray table,
Servaunts I had bothe worshipfuU and honorable.
My crosses twayne of sylver long and greate.
That dayly byfore rae ware carried hyghe.
Upon great horses, opynly in the strete.
And massie piUars gloriouse to the eye.
With poUaxes gylt that no man durst come nyghe
My presence, I was so pryncely to behold,
Ridyng on my mule trapped in sylver and gold.
My legantyne prerogatyve was myche to myn avayle.
By vertue wherof I had thys high preemynence :
AU vacant benefices I did thera strayt retaylle,
Presentyng than ray clarke, as sone as I had inteUygence :
I prevented the patron, ther vayUed-* no resistence ;
AU bysshopes and prelates durst not oons denay.
They doughted so ray power, they myght not dysobey.
Thus may you see how I to riches did attayne.
And with suffisaunce my mynd was not content ;
Whan I had most, I rathest ^ wold complayne ;
For lake of good, alas ! how I was blent ^ !
Where shall ray gatheryngs and good be spent ?

' I past not of, i.e.l cared not for.
* vaylled, availed. ' rattiest, i. e. soonest. •• blent, i. e. blind.

534 POEMS.
Some oon, perchance, shaU me thereof dyscharge.
Whom I raost hate, and spend it owt at large 7.
Sytting in Jugement, parcyall ware my doomes;
I spared non estatte, of hyghe or low degree ;
I preferred whom me lyst, exaltyng symple ^omes
Above the nobles ; I spared myche the spritualtie,
Not passyng myche on the temperaltie ;
Promotyng such to so hyghe estate
As unto prynces wold boldly say chek-raate.
Oon to subdewe that did rae always favor.
And in that place another to avaunce,
Ayenst all trewthe, I did my busy labor.
And, whilest I was workyng witty whiles in Fraunce,
I was at home supplanted, where I thought most as-
suraunce :
Thus who by fraud fraudelent is found.
Fraud to the defrauder wiU aye rebound.
Who workyth fraude often is disceyved ;
As in a myrror, ye may behold in me ;
For by disceyt, or I had it perceyved,
I was disceyved ; a guerdon mete parde
For hyme that wold, ayenst all equite,
Dysceyve the innocent, that innocent was in deede ;
Therefore Justice of Justice ayenst me must proceede.

7 This is a version of the concluding passage of the Life of the
Cardinal.

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 535
For by my subtiU dealyng thus it came to passe,
Cheafely disdayned, for whome I toke the payn ;
And than to repent it was too late, alas !
My purpose I wold than have changed fayn ;
But it wold not be, I was perceived playn :
Thus Venus the goddesse that caUed is of love
Spared not with spight to bryng me from above.
Alas ! my soverayn Lord, thou didest me avaunce.
And settest rae uppe in thys great pompe and pryde.
And gavest to me thy realme in governaunce ;
Thy pryncely -sriU why did I set aside.
And foUowed myn own, consideryng not the tyde.
How after a floode an ebbe corayth on a pace ?
That to consider, in my tryhumphe I lakked grace.
Now fykkeU Fortune tomed hathe hir whele.
Or I it wyst », aU sodenly, and down she did rae cast ;
Down was my bed, and upward went my hele.
My hold faylled me that I thought suer and fast ;
I se by experience, hir favor doth not last ;
For she fuU low now hath brought rae under.
Though I on hir complayn, alas .' it is no wonder.
I lost myne honor ; my treasure was me beraft ;
Fayn to avoyd, and quykly to geve place,
Symply to depart, for me nothing was laft.
Without penny or pound I Uved a certyn space,
Untill my soverayn Lord extendyd to rae his grace ;

* wyst, i. c. knew.

536 poems.
Who restored rae sufficient, if I had byn content
To mayntayn myn estate, both of lond and rent.
Yet, notwithstanding, my corage was so hault,
Dispight of mine enemy es rubbed me on the gall,
Who conspyred together to take rae with asault ;
They travelled without triaU to geve me a faU :
I therefore entendyd to trie my frends all ;
To forrayn potentates wrott my letters playn,
Desireng their ayd, to restore me to favor againe.
Myn ennerayes, perceiving, caught thereof dysdayn,
Doughtyng the daynger, dreamed on the dought ;
In counceU consulting, my sewte to restrayn,
Accused me of treason, and brought it so about
That, travelling to my trial, or I could trie it owte.
Death with his dart strake rae for the nons ^,
In Leicester, full lowe, where nowe lyeth my boons.
Loo, nowe you may see what it is to trust
In worldly vanjrties that voydyth with the wynd ;
For death in a moment consuriieth aU to dust :
No honor, no glory, that ever man cowld fynd.
But Tyme with hys tyme puttythe all out of mynd ;
For Tyme in breafe tyme duskyth the hystory
Of them that long tyme lyved in glory.
Where is my tombe that I made for the nons.
Wrought of fynne copper, that cost many a pound.

'' for the nons, or nonce, for the purpose.

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 537
To couche in my carion and my rotten boons ?
All is but vayn-glory, now have I found.
And small to the purpose, when I ara in the ground ;
What doth it avaylle me, all that I have,
Seyng I ame deade and layed in my grave ?
FareweU Hampton Court, whos founder I was ;
Farewell Westminster Place, now a palace royall ;
Farewell the Moore, let Tynnynainger 1 passe ;
FareweU, in Oxford, ray college cardynall ;
FareweU, in Ipsewich, my schole gramaticall :
Yet oons fareweU, I say, I shaU you never see ;
Your soraptious byldyng, what now avayUethe me ?
What avayllyth my great aboundance ?
What is nowe left to helpe me in this case ?
Nothing at aU but dompe in the daunce.
Among deade men to tryppe on the trace :
And for my gay housis now have I this place
To lay in ray karcas, wrapt in a sheete,
Knytt with a knott at my bed and my feete.
What avayleth now my feather bedds soft.
Sheets of Raynes 2, long, large, and wide.

¦ This is Tittenhanger, in Hertfordshire, which Wolsey held as
Abbot of St. Albans : there was formerly a palace belonging to the
Abbots of St. Albans there.
'' Sheets of Raynes. The fine linen used by our ancestors is
frequently called cloth of Raynes. Rennes in Brittanny was for
merly celebrated for its manufacture of fine linen. In the enu
meration of the cardinal's treasures at Hampton Court, many pieces

538 POEMS.
And dyvers devyses of clothes chaynged oft ;
Or vicious chapleyns walking by my syde,
Voyde of aU vertue, friUfiUed with pryde,
Which hathe caused me, by report of suche fame.
For ther rayslyvyng to have an yll narae.
This is ray last complaynt, I can say you no more.
But farewell my servant that faythefuU hathe be ;
Note well these words, quod he, I pray the therfore.
And wright them thus playn, as I have told them the,
All which is trewe, thou knowest well, parde ;
Thou faylledst me not, untill that I dyed,
And now I must depart, I maye no longer byde !

of cloth of Raynes are mentioned. In the Old Phrase Book,
entitled Vulgaria, by W. Horman, 1519, is the following passage :
" He weareth a shurte of Raynis whan curser wold serve him."

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 539

SPECIMEN OF
AN EPITAPHE ON QUENE MARIE.
BY GEORGE CAVENDISH:
CONSISTINe OF FIFTEEN STANZAS.

DiscEND from hevyn, O Muse Melpomene,
Thou moumfuU goddesse, with thy sisters all.
Passe in your playnts the wofuU Niobe,
Tome musyke to raone with teeres etemaU,
Blake be your habetts, dyme, and funeral ;
For deathe hathe bereft, to our great dolour,
Mary our mastres, our quene of honor.
Our quene of honor, compared aptly
To Veritas victrix, daughter of Tyme,
By God assisted, amased in armye.
When she a virgin cleare, without cryme.
By ryght, without might, did happely clyme
To the stage royal, just inheritor,
Proclaymed Mary our quene of honor.

540 POEMS.

TH'AUCTOR TO HIS BOOKE.

Crepe forthe, ray boke, under the proteccion
Of suche as have bothe leamyng and eloquence ;
Hurably subrayttyng the to the correccion •
Of worthy writers of virtuous exceUence,
Besechyng all them, of ther benygn pacience
To take the meanyng, however the matter frame.
Of this thyn auctor, abasshed of his narae.
For, first of all, whan I do behold
Of faraous writers the goodly circurastance.
My quaking hand my penne unnethe can hold,
So dombe I ame of doctryn, lame of experience,
Stakeryng in style, onsavery of sentence,
Sa-ve oonly hope, that saithe withouten fayll.
That my well meanyng shall quytt ray travayU.
Thus, not presurayng of leamyng ne eloquence,.
Hope raade me shove the boote from the shore ;
Desyryng no thyng for my fare or expence.
But only good wyU ; I aske no more :
And for 1 the hurt of envy that myght rore.

» " And for the hurt of envy," i. ,e. against the hurt of envy.
Envy being the cause of his seeking to shrowd himself.

RY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 541
I shaU set my shrowd 2 for my defence.
Under the mantell of weU wyUyng audyence.
And principally this my work for to assist,
I humbly beseche that Lord that is etemall
To defend my penne that wrott this with my fist.
To be my savegard, my staffe, and my wall ;
And consequently for feare least I shold fall
In the daynger of the learned ^ and honorable sort,
I pray them all my lamenes to support.
Least perchaunce the pleasaunt floode do faylle
Of witty writing or sugred eloquence,
FoUowe, therfore, good wyU at the boots taylle.
Me to preserve in the waves of ignorance,
Socoured by hope and gentill sufferance :
Nowe hale uppe, skuUer ; God graunt rae wynd.
And Jhesu defend rae to my Uves end.
Whan thou, my boke, comest into the prease
Bothe of the wyse and learned multitude.
To excuse thyn auctor thou canst do no lesse.

¦• A shrowd signified a shield or buckler, and metaphorically any
kind of defence, coverture, or place of protection.
7  " least I shold fall
In the daynger of the learned and honorable sort."
That is, " lest I should encounter their censure, or fall into the con
trol of their severe judgment." The phrase has its origin from the
barbarous Latin in dangerio, and is common to Chaucer and our
elder writers as well as to Shakspeare and his coteraporaries.

542 POEMS. BY GEORGE CAVENDISH.
Wantyng learnyng, and of utterance rude.
Which did never this enterprise entrude ;
Trustyp^ either of wytt. or learnyng.
But for an exercise, and non other thyng.
FINIE ET COMPILt LE XXIIIJ JOUR DE JUNIJ
A REGNOR PHILIPPI REX & REGINE MARIE IIIJTo & vro*
PER LE AUCTOR G. C.
Novus Rex, nova Lex : Nova sola Regi/na, probz pene ruina.

4 By this is meant the Fourth Year of the Reign, of Philip, and
the Fifth of Queen Mary, answering to 1558. The Latin rhyming
couplet Cavendish appears to have added after the commencement
of Elizabeth's reign. How far from a true prophecy it proved, the
long and prosperous reign of Elizabeth may witness.

FINIS.

LONDON :
PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.

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