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tence which the law directed in cases of trea
More, having no longer any measures to keep, openly declared, that after seven years' stu
It is evident that these interrogatories, into which some terms peculiarly objectionable to More were now for the first time inserted, were
layrnan could be head of the church.” The com. missioners once more offered him a favourable audience for any matter which he had to propose. “More have I not to say, my lords, but that as St. Paul held the clothes of those who stoned Stephen to death, and as they are now both saints in heaven, and shall continue there friends for ever; so I verily trust, and shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your lordships have now here on earth been judges to my condemnation, we may, nevertheless, hereafter cheerfully meet in heaven, in everlasting salvation."*
Sir W. Kingston, “his very dear friend,” constable of the Tower, as, with tears running down his cheeks, he conducted his prisoner from Westminster, condoled with sir T. More, who endeavoured to assuage the sorrow of his friend by the consolations of religion. The same gentleman said afterwards to Roper,-"I was ashamed of myself when I found my heart so feeble, and his so strong."
Margaret Roper, his good angel, watched for his landing at the Tower wharf. " After his blessing upon her knees reverently received, without care of herself, pressing in the midst of the throng, and the guards that were about him with halberts and bills, she hastily ran to him, and openly, in sight of them all, embraced and kissed him. He gave her again his fatherly blessing. After separation she, all ravished with the entire love of her dear father, suddenly turned back again, ran to him as before, took him about the neck, and divers times kissed him most lovingly,-a sight which made many of the beholders weep and mourn."|
Thus tender was the heart of the admirable woman who had at the same time the greatness of soul to strengthen her father's fortitude, by disclaiming the advice for which he, having mistaken her meaning, had meekly rebuked her, to prefer life to right.
On the 14th of June, he was once more examined by four civilians in the Tower. “He was asked, first, whether he would obey the king as supreme head of the church of England on earth immediately under Christ ? to which he said, that he could make no answer. Secondly, whether he would consent to the king's marriage with queen Anne, and affirm the marriage with the lady Catharine to have been unlawful ? To which he answered that he did never speak nor meddle against the same; and, thirdly, whether he is not bound to answer the said question, and to recognize the headship as aforesaid ? To which he said, that he could make no answer.”I
* Roper, p. 90. | Roper, p. 90.
| English Works, 1458. Printed, London, 1557; and Roper, p. 92.
trious victim to the option of uttering a lie or of suffering death. The conspirators against him might, perhaps, have a faint idea that they had at length broken his spirit. If he persisted, they hoped that he might be represented as bringing destruction on himself by his own obstinacy.
Such, however, was his calm and well-ordered mind, that he said and did nothing to provoke his fate. Had he given affirmative answers, he would have sworn falsely : he was the martyr of veracity. He perished only because he was sincere. On Monday, the 5th of July, 1535, he wrote a farewell letter to Margaret Roper, with his usual materials of coal. It contained blessings to all his children by name, with a kind remembrance even to one of Margaret's maids. Adverting to their last interview, on the quay, he says,"I never liked your manner towards me better than when you kissed me last ; for I love when daughterly love and dear charity have no leisure to look to worldly courtesy."
On Tuesday, the 6th of July (St. Thomas's eve,) 1535, sir Thomas Pope, “his singular good friend,” came to him early with a message from the king and council, to say that he should die before nine o'clock of the same morning. “The king's pleasure,” said Pope, “is that you shall not use many words.”—“I did purpose," answered More, “to have spoken somewhat, but I will conform myself to the king's commandment, and I beseech you to obtain from him that my daughter Margaret may be present at my burial.”“ The king is already content that your wife, children, and other friends shall be present thereat.” The lieutenant brought him to the scaffold, which was so weak that it was ready to fall, on which he said, merrily, “Master lieutenant, I pray you see me safe up, and for my coming down let me shift for myself.” When he laid his head on the block he desired the executioner to wait till he had removed his beard, for that had never offended his highness.
He has been censured by some for such levities at the moment of death. These are censorious cavils, which would not be worthy of an allusion if they had not occasioned some sentences of as noble reflection, and beautiful composition, as the English language contains. " The innocent mirth, which had been so conspicuous in his life, did not forsake him to the last. His death was of a piece with his life; there was nothing in 't new, forced, or affected. He did not look upon the severing his head from his body as a circumstance which ought to produce any change
the disposition of his mind ; and as he died in a fixed and settled hope of immortality, he thought any unusual degree of sorrow and concern inproper."* * Spectator, No. 349.
According to the barbarous practice of laws contrary to the rules of that language as "thrice which vainly struggle to carry their cruelty beyond greatest *" would be to the idiom of ours. When the grave, the head of sir Thomas More was intelligence of his death was brought to the emplaced on London bridge. His darling daughter, peror Charles V., he sent for sir T. Elliot, the Margaret, had the courage to procure the head to English embassador, and said to him, “My be taken down, that she might exercise her affec- lord embassador, we understand that the king tion by continuing to look on a head so dear. your master has put his wise counsellor sir Thomas Carrying her love beyond the grave, she desired More to death.” Elliot, abashed, made answer that it might be buried with her when she died, that he understood nothing thereof. Well,” which was about nine years after the fate of her said the emperor, “it is too true; and this we father. The remains of this precious relic are will say, that if we had been master of such a said to have been since observed in the burial place, servant, we should rather have lost the best city sying on what had been her bosom. Her male in our dominions than have lost such a worthy descendants appear to have been soon extinct. counsellor.” “ Which matter," says Roper, in the Her descendants through females are probably concluding words of his beautiful narrative, numerous. This admirable woman resembled by sir T. Elliot told to myself, my wife, to Mr. her father in mind, in manner, in the features and Clement and his wife, and to Mr. Heywood and expression of her countenance, and in her form his wife." I and gait
. Her learning was celebrated through- Of all men nearly perfect, sir Thomas More had, out Christendom: it is seldom that literature wears perhaps, the clearest marks of individual character. a more agreeable aspect than when it becomes a His peculiarities, though distinguishing him from bond of union between such a father and such a all others, were yet withheld from growing into daughter. His eldest son, John, married Anne moral faults. It is not enough to say of him that Crisacre, the heiress of an estate at Barnborough, he was unaffected, that he was natural, that he near Doncaster, still held by his posterity through was simple ; so the larger part of truly great men females.f The mansion of the Mores still subsists have been. But there is something homespun in there. The last male descendant of sir Thomas More which is common to him with scarcely any More, was Thomas More, a jesuit, who was other, and which gives to all his faculties and principal of the college of jesuits at Bruges, and qualities the appearance of being the native growth died at Bath in 1795, having survived his famous of the soil. The homeliness of his pleasantry puorder, and, according to the appearances of that rifies it from show. He walks on the scaffold clad time, his ancient religion; as if the family of More only in his household goodness. The unre were one of the many ties which may be traced benignity with which he ruled his patriarchal dwelthrough the interval of two centuries and a half ling at Chelsea enabled him to look on the axe between the revolutions of religion and those of without being disturbed by feeling hatred for the government.
tyrant. This quality bound together his genius The letters and narratives of Erasmus diffused and learning, his eloquence and fame, with his the story of More's fate throughout Europe. Car- homely and daily duties, bestowing a genuineness dinal Pole bewailed it with elegance and feeling. on all his good qualities, a dignity on the most It filled Italy, the most cultivated portion of Europe, ordinary offices of life, and an accessible familiwith horror. Paulo Jovio called Henry a Phalaris, arity on the virtues of a hero and a martyr, which though we shall in vain look in the story of Pha- silences every suspicion that his excellences were laris, or of any other real or legendary tyrant, for magnified. a victim worthy of being compared to More. The He thus simply performed great acts, and English ministers throughout Europe were regard- uttered great thoughts, because they were familiar ed with averted eyes as the agents of a monster. to his great soul. The charm of this inborn and At Venice, Henry, after this deed, was deemed homebred character seems as if it would have been capable of any crimes. He was believed there to taken off by polish. It is this household character have murdered Catharine, and to be about to which relieves our notion of him from vagueness, murder his daughter Mary. The catholic zeal and divests perfection of that generality and coldof Spain, and the resentment of the Spanish people ness to which the attempt to paint a perfect man against the oppression of Catharine, quickened
is so liable. their sympathy with More, and aggravated their It will naturally, and very strongly, excite the detestation of Henry. Mason, the envoy at regret of the good in every age, that the life of this Valla thought every pure Latin phrase too best of men should have been in the power of him weak for More, and describes him by a phrase as who was rarely surpassed in wickedness. But
the execrable Henry was the means of drawing * One of them, Mr. James Hinton Baverstock, * « Ter maximus ille Morus."--Ellis. inserted his noble pedigree from Margaret, in 1819, | Instead of Heywood, perhaps we ought to read in a copy of More's English Works, at this moment “Heron ?" In that case the three daughters of sir before me.
Thomas More would be present. Mrs. Roper was † Hunter's South Yorkshire, pp. 574, 375.
the eldest, Mrs. Clement the second and Cecilia | Ellis's Letters.
Heron the youngest.
forth the magnanimity, the fortitude, and the meekness of More. Had Henry been a just and merciful monarch, we should not have known the degree of excellence to which human nature is capable of ascending. Catholics ought to see in More, that mildness and candour are the true ornaments of all modes of faith. Protestants ought to be taught humility and charity from this instance of the wisest and best of men falling into, what they deem, the most fatal errors. All men, in the fierce contests of contending factions should, from such
an example, learn the wisdom to fear lest in their most hated antagonist they may strike down a sir Thomas More ; for assuredly virtue is not so nar. row as to be confined to any party; and we have, in the case of More, a signal example that the nearest approach to perfect excellence does not exempt men from mistakes which we may justly deem mischievous. It is a pregnant proof, that we should beware of hating men for their opinions, or of adopting their doctrines because we love and venerate their virtues.
Thomas CARDINAL Wolsey, the celebrated appeal, with laudable vanity, to his university prime minister and favourite of Henry VIII., was appellation of the boy bachelor, as the best proof ot born at Ipswich, in Suffolk, in 1471. According his early devotion to literature. to Cavendish, his gentleman usher and biogra- He was entered, most probably with a view to pher, he was “an honest poor man's son,” under the church as a means of livelihood, the church which vagueness of expression it is supposed an being then the great ladder of ambition to men of attempt is made to conceal the fact of his father lowly birth, of Magdalen College, Oxford, where having been a butcher.* That his father was a he became a bachelor of arts at fifteen years man at least of moderate wealth, is evident from of age, an occurrence which, as he himself told his will, in which, among other legacies, he be- Cavendish, was a rare thing, and seldom seen.” queaths “ all his land and tenements” in the He was also, at a very early age, elected fellow parish of St. Nicholas, and his “free and bond of Magdalen ; and having been equently lands” in St. Stoke, to his widow ; and, indeed, admitted to orders,* was appointed master of may be inferred from the circumstance of his son's the preparatory school of his college. It is no entering the university of Oxford at a very early less creditable to the head than to the heart of Wolage. Wolsey was eminently favoured by nature sey that he was, from the commencement to the in grace and beauty of person. Hence Shak- end of his career, imbued with a deep sense of the speare happily says of him, that he “ was fashion.
importance of the office of instructor of youth ; ed to much honour from the cradle.” Of those and that in his school he displayed that perseverincidents and circumstances of his early domestic ance, self-control, and unremitting vigilance, so life, which might throw light on the formation of essential to the business of education, and, it may his character, we unfortunately possess no infor- be added, so indispensable to a penniless votary mation. Cavendish merely tells us, that from his of ambition. During his residence at Magdalen childhood he was “very apt to learning;” and he College, he enjoyed the society of Erasmus, and, himself used, in the very zenith of his fortune, to it is said, also of sir T. More.
An accident-as it turned out a fortunate one* There being no direct testimony to the fact of Wolsey's father having been a butcher, a foolish con
prevented Wolsey from probably slumbering out troversy has been waged concerning its probability. his days in the cloisters of his alma mater. It That he was a man of humble origin, -"an honest happened that there were among his pupils three poor man,” as Cavendish designates him,-is admitted on all nands ; and it matters little what may have
sons of Grey, marquis of Dorset (a collateral been his vocation, so far as the natal pretensions of
ancestor of Lady Jane Grey), who, owing to his son to power and distinction are concerned. In Henry's distrustfulness of the more ancient and the text we have assumed him to have been a butcher, because such was the belief of his contemporaries.
wealthy nobility, even though they had been He is distinctly alluded to as the butcher's dog in the satirical poem, erroneously ascribed, according to Mr. * At the date of his father's will, 31st of September, Singer (edition of Cavendish's Life,) to Skelton ; 1496, Wolsey was 25 years of age ; and as it should and by that dyslogistic epithet, Hall tells us,
seem was not yet in orders. “I wyll that if Thomas populace usually characterised him. Luther calls my son be a prest within a yer next after my dehim a butcher's son in his Colloquies ; and Polydore cesse, than I wyll that he syng for me and my friends, Vergil also speaks of his father as a butcher. That be the space of a yer, and he for to have for his salary his father died in easy circumstances, as stated in the X more, and, if the seyed Thomas my son be not a text, is evident from his will, which' the reader will prext than I wyil that another honest prest syng for find copied in the Appendix to Mr. Singer's excellent me.” The expression, however, implies that Wolsey edition of Cavendish.
was preparing to take orders,
enemies of the house of York, then lived in rural retirement. During the Christmas holidays in 1499, Wolsey attended his “three honourable scholars" to their father's house ; when he so gained upon the marquis by his fascinating powers of conversation, and by the progress which his pupils had made under his care, that that nobleman presented him to the rectory of Lymington in Somersetshire, a benefice in the gift of his family. Wolsey was in the 29th year of his age when he obtained this his first church preferment, for which he immediately relinquished his school and other collegiate appointments. Before, however, he left the university, he had given proofs of the love of literature, enterprising magnificence, and patronage of art, which were the virtues of his character; and had given occasion for the suspicion of that disregard of any quality in means except their immediate efficacy, which was his predominant and fatal vice. He was elected bursar of his college in 1493, at which time Erasmus was at Oxford ; and he zealously concurred with that eminent scholar and genius (whose venal praise and dispraise of Wolsey are alike disgraceful to literature) in encouraging the study of the Greek writers, or, as it was then called, the new learning. At the same time Wolsey had erected the tower of Magdalen College chapel, known by the name of Woisey's Tower, admired for the chaste simplicity and elegance of its architecture. The building of this tower involved Wolsey in pecuniary embarrassments which affected his putation : for he is affirmed to have fraudulently applied the college funds, over which his office of bursar gave him some control, to the erection of the edifice; and is even reported to have used violent means to supply himself from the college treasury with the necessary money. The same taste for building attended and embarrassed him in every stage of his career : for no sooner was he settled in his “ cure" than he set about repairing and beautifying the church and parsonage house ; and to this day Esher, Christ Church college Oxford, and Hampton Court remain monuments of his wealth, love of magnificence, and genius for architecture. Never, indeed, was there a clergyman to whom the designation in the epigram~"ut donem pastor et ædificem,”_would more happily apply.
Wolsey remained at the rectory of Lymington but two years, during which an incident, curious in many of its bearings, occurred, that is not unworthy of our notice. Wolsey, being of a “free and sociable temper” (we quote the Biographia Britannica), went with some of his neighbours to a fair in an adjacent town, where his reverence is said to have got so drunk* as to create some
disorders ; for which he was punished by a sir Amyas Paulet, a neighbouring justice of the peace, with the “ignominious durance” of the public stocks of the town. This incident is interesting as illustrative of the manners of the times. The fact of a beneficed clergyman being thus held up to popular derision for an indecorum which many of his successors, even in the present day, might term an act of good fellowship, jars much with our notions of modern refinement. But it clearly shows the fruitfulness of the English soil for the seeds of the approaching Reformation ; and proves that our catholic ancestors were not so priest-ridden, nor those priests so openly dissolute in their habits, as protestant zeal has repeatedly asserted. It is probable that Wolsey considered the affront to be aimed at the meanness of his birth; for, being of a temper less prone to resent injuries than contempt, he held it in angry recollection till fortune placed the offender within his power. Though prudence and magnanimity should have prevented his raking up the transaction from probable oblivion, Wolsey, on his becoming lord chancellor, sent for sir Amyas, and, sternly reprimanding him for his affront to the rector of Lymington, commanded him to remain within the bounds of the Temple during pleasure. The mode by which, after a confinement of five or six years, the unlucky justice at length mitigated the resentment of the vindictive minister is characteristic. He embellished the exterior of his residence, situate at the gate of the Middle
ple, with the arms, the hat, and other badges of distinction proper to Wolsey as a cardinal; and by this architectural offering to the haughty churchman's vanity obtained his liberty.
On leaving Lymington (the emoluments of the living of which he, however, did not resign for seven years after, having in the mean time obtained two papal dispensations for holding a plurality of benefices), Wolsey entered the service of Deane, archbishop of Canterbury, as domestic chaplain, and soon after that of sir John Nanfar, treasurer of Calais, in the same capacity. The circumstance of his being thus received into the household of the archbishop of Canterbury abundantly disproves an assertion of some of his biographers, that, overwhelmed with shame for the ill odour in which his dissolute conduct at his cure of Lymington caused him to be held, he fled from it suddenly on the death, in 1501, of his patron, the marquis of Dorset; and is, indeed, hardly reconcileable with the scandalous tradition of his inebriety which we have just noticed. Though nominally but chaplain, sir John Nanfar, owing to the infirmity of old age, soon committed to him the whole management of his office, in which Wolsey gave so much satisfaction, that on the knight's return to England, he recommended him with such earnestness to the trical life of Wolsey, represents him as the injured party. "Wrong'd by a knight for no desert of mine." -See Singer's edition of Cavendish.
* The ground for this assertion is not known, and should seem to have no earlier authority than sir John Harrington. Cavendish professes ignorance of the cause which, “Sir, by your leave, made the knight so bold to set the schoolmaster by the feet during pleasure." It
may be remarked that Storer, in his me
king, that Henry (VII.), ever willing to secure well known to the readers of history, are worthy the services of men of practical ability, made him of being quoted with some fulness, as they were alone of his chaplains.
ways referred to by Wolsey himself as the incident This was the step to fortune which Wolsey had which opened the way to his subsequent greatness. long panted for, and which he failed not speedily Henry was at the time negotiating his intendto improve, as it afforded full scope for the display ed marriage with Margaret, duchess dowager of of all those natural and acquired advantages in Savoy, the emperor Maximilian's only daughter ; which he is admitted to have excelled. We have and it was necessary to employ a person of great said that he was eminently favoured by nature in address to adjust with the emperor in perso dignity of person and manner: he was, moreover, delicate points connected with the marriage. Fox celebrated according to Cavendish for “a special and Lovell joined in earnestly recommending gift of natural eloquence, with a filed tongue to Wolsey as the fittest person for the commission. pronounce the same; so that he was able with “ The king, giving ear unto them, and being a the same to persuade and allure all men to his prince of excellent judgment and modesty, compurpose;" or, as Shakspeare phrases it, he was manded them to bring his chaplain, whom they so “exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading." much commended, before his grace's presence. But he possessed endowments still more rare and At whose repair thither, to prove the wit of his valuable. Besides his great fluency of diction and chaplain, the king fell in communication with him, practical self-command, Wolscy had a quick and in matters of weight and gravity: and perceiving correct perception of character and of the secret his wit to be very fine, thought him sufficient to be springs of action, and a singular power of shaping put in trust and authority with this embassy ; and his conduct and conversation according to circum- commanded him to prepare himself for this enterstances. Hence his extraordinary influence over prise and journey, and for his depeche to repair to those in power with whom he came in contact, his grace, and his trusty counsellors aforesaid, of which seemed to partake of the nature of fascina- whom he should receive his commission and intion, and which was not the less paramount and structions; by means whereof,” continues Cavenenduring that it was unostentatious, and seemed dish," he had then a due occasion to repair from to but blindly follow where, in fact, it guided. time to time to the king's presence, who perceived With the gay, youthful, and prodigal Henry VIII., him more and more to be a very wise man, and of Wolsey was betimes the magnificent courtier- a good entendement." the frolicsome companion—the state Mentor, and Wolsey, having thus satisfied the wary monarch the commentator on Thomas Aquinas--the grave of his competency, despatched his commission minister, and the mirthful favourite ; while with with a celerity which, notwithstanding the extrathe wary and calculating founder of the Tudor ordinarily increased facilities of modern conveydynasty he was remarkable for the laborious assi
ance, may perhaps still be considered great, if duity, business-regularity, and monotonous steadi- not surprising. He left the king at Richmond at ness of his habits. Such power of self-control, four o'clock on Sunday, went to Gravesend from combined with his splendid abilities and insinua- London by water that evening in less than three ting address, could not fail to recommend Wolsey hours, thence posted it to Dover, where he arrived to Henry and his ministers, particularly when it next morning as the passage-boat was about to was observed (as we are informed by Cavendish) sail. By it he was conveyed over to Calais before that, after celebrating mass before the king," he noon, whence he got to Bruges, where Maximispent not forth the day in vain idleness, but gave lian was staying, by Tuesday morning. Wolsey his attendance upon those whom he thought to obtained an immediate audience of the emperor, bear most rule in the council, to be most in favour and pressed that his return might be expedited. with the king."--chiefly upon Fox, bishop of Win- He received his answer late in the evening, startchester, the most influential of Henry's ministers, ed from Bruges next morning, and arrived in and sir Thomas Lovell*, master of the wards, Richmond the same night. On Thursday mornboth of whom early appreciated and proclaimed | ing he attended at court, and threw himself at the the value of the chaplain's civil services. To these king's feet. Henry, supposing he had protracted statesmen Wolsey was indebted for all that a man his departure, was displeased at seeing him, and of his abilities and ambition required—an oppor- began to reprove him for the dilatory execution of tunity of evincing his zeal and address in the king's his orders : on which Wolsey, to the king's great immediate service. The circumstances of the oc- surprise, presenting his letters of credence, replied, casion on which he was thus employed, though “If it may please your highness, I have already
been with the emperor, and despatched your af* Wolsey had not only the address and good qualities necessary to the acquisition of such friends, but
fairs, I trust to your grace's contentation.”—“ But also retained them to the last. The affection of bishop on second thoughts,” said the king, “ I found that Fox is apparent in the last letter which he wrote to somewhat was omitted in your orders, and have him; and 'sir Thomas Lovell's esteem was manifested
sent a messenger after you with fuller instrucat the close of his life : for he leaves him in his will “ a standing cup of golde, and one hundred marks in
tions.”—“ Yes, forsooth, sire,” quoth Wolsey, “I golde."-Singer's Notes.
encountered him yesterday by the way; and, hav.