Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

defended the Kentish men, which made great force to reenter the city. Then the Captain, seeing this bickering begun, yode to harness, and called his people about him, and set so fiercely upon the citizens that he drave them back from the stulpes in Southwark, or bridge foot, unto the drawbridge. Then the Kentishmen set fire upon the drawbridge. In defending whereof many a man was drowned and slain; among the which of men of name was John Sutton, alderman, Matthew Gowth, gentleman, and Roger Heysand, citizen. And thus continued this skirmish all night, till nine of the clock upon the morn. Thus continuing this cruel fight, to the destruction of much people on both sides; lastly, after the Kentishmen were put to the worse, a trew was agreed for certain hours; during the which trew, the archbishop of Canterbury, then chancellor of England, sent a general pardon to the Captain for himself, and another for his people; by reason whereof he and his company departed the same night out of Southwark, and so returned every man to his own.

But it was not long after that the Captain with his company was thus departed that proclamations were made in divers places of Kent, of Sussex, and Sowtherey, that who might take the foresaid Jack Cade, either alive or dead, should have a thousand mark for his travail. After which proclamation thus published, a gentleman of Kent, named Alexander Iden, awaited so his time that he took him in a garden in Sussex, where, in the taking of him, the said Jack was slain; and so being dead, was brought into Southwark the 2 day of the month of September, and then left in the King's Bench for that night. And upon the morrow the dead corpse was drawn through the high streets of the city unto Newgate, and there headed and quartered, whose head was then sent to London Bridge, and his four quarters were sent to four sundry towns of Kent.

And this done, the king sent his commissions into Kent, and rode after himself, and caused inquiry to be made of this riot in Canterbury; wherefore the same eight men were judged and put to death; and in other good towns of Kent and Sussex, divers other were put in execution for the same riot.

In the following extract from Hall's Chronicle, relative to the Protector (afterwards Richard III.), it will be seen how closely it was copied by Shakspeare:

Scene in the Council-room of the Protector Gloucester. The Lord Protector caused a council to be set at the Tower, on Friday the thirteen day of June, where there was much communing for the honourable solemnity of the coronation, of the which the time appointed approached so near that the pageants were a making day and night at Westminster, and victual killed, which afterward was cast away.

These lords thus sitting, communing of this matter, the Protector came in among them, about nine of the clock, saluting them courteously, excusing himself that he had been from them so long, saying merrily that he had been a sleeper that day. And after a little talking with him, he said to the bishop of Ely: 'My Lord, you have very good strawberries in your garden at Holborn ; I require you let us have a mess of them.' Gladly, my Lord,' quoth he; 'I would I had some better thing as ready to your pleasure as that:' and with that, in all haste, he sent his servant for a dish of strawberries. The Protector set the lords fast in communing, and thereupon prayed them to spare him a little; and so he departed, and came again between ten and eleven of the clock in to the chamber, all changed, with a sour, angry countenance, knitting the brows, frowning and fretting, and gnawing on his lips; and so set him down in his

1 Truce.

Said to have been on July 11, 1450.

place. All the lords were dismayed and sore marvelled of this manner and sudden change, and what thing should him ail. When he had sitten a while, thus he began: 'What were they worthy to have that compass and imagine the destruction of me, being so near of blood to the king, and protector of this his royal realm?' At which question all the lords sat sore astonished, musing much by whom the question should be meant, of which every man knew himself clear.

Then the Lord Hastings, as he that, for the familiarity that was between them, thought he might be boldest with him, answered, and said that they were worthy to be punished as heinous traitors, whatsoever they were ; and all the other affirmed the same. That is,' quoth he, 'yonder sorceress, my brother's wife, and other with her; meaning the queen. Many of the lords were sore abashed which favoured her; but the Lord Hastings was better content in his mind that it was moved by her than by any other that he loved better; albeit his heart grudged that he was not afore made of counsel of this matter, as well as he was of the taking of her kindred, and of their putting to death, which were by his assent before devised to be beheaded at Pomfret, this self-same day; in the which he was not ware that it was by other devised that he himself should the same day be beheaded at London. Then,' said the Protector, 'in what wise that sorceress and other of her counsel-as Shore's wife, with her affinity-have, by their sorcery and witchcraft, thus wasted my body!' and therewith plucked up his doublet sleeve to his elbow, on his left arm, where he shewed a very withered arm, and small, as it was never other. And thereupon every man's mind misgave them, well perceiving that this matter was but a quarrel; for well they wist that the queen was both too wise to go about any such folly, and also, if she would, yet would she of all folk make Shore's wife least of her counsel, whom of all women she most hated, as that concubine whom the king, her husband, most loved.

Also, there was no man there but knew that his arm was ever such sith the day of his birth. Nevertheless, the Lord Hastings, which from the death of King Edward kept Shore's wife, his heart somewhat grudged to have her whom he loved so highly accused, and that, as he knew well, untruly; therefore he answered, and said: "Certainly, my Lord; if they have so done, they be worthy of heinous punishment.' 'What!' quoth the Protector, thou servest me, I ween, with if and with and; I tell thee they have done it, and that will I make good on thy body, traitor!' And therewith, as in a great anger, he clapped his fist on the board a great rap, at which token given, one cried treason without the chamber, and therewith a door clapped, and in came rushing men in harness, as many as the chamber could hold. And anon the Protector said to the Lord Lord ? quoth he. Yea, the traitor,' quoth the ProHastings: 'I arrest thee, traitor !' 'What! me, my tector. And one let fly at the Lord Stanley, which shrunk at the stroke, and fell under the table, or else his head had been cleft to the teeth; for as shortly as he shrunk, yet ran the blood about his ears. the archbishop of York, and Doctor Morton, bishop of Ely, and the Lord Stanley taken, and divers others which were bestowed in divers chambers, save the Lord shrive him apace. For, by Saint Poule,' quoth he, ‘I Hastings, whom the Protector commanded to speed and will not dine till I see thy head off." It booted him not to ask why, but heavily he took a priest at a venture, and made a short shrift, for a longer would not be suffered, the Protector made so much haste to his dinner, which might not go to it till this murder were done, for saving of his ungracious oath. So was he brought forth into the green, beside the chapel within the Tower, and his head laid down on a log of timber that lay there for building of the chapel, and there tyrannously stricken off; and after, his body and head were interred at Windsor, by his master, King Edward the Fourth; whose souls Jesu pardon. Amen.

Then was

SIR THOMAS MORE.

Passing over Fortescue, the first prose writer who mingled just and striking thought with his language, and was entitled to the appellation of a man of genius, was unquestionably the celebrated chancellor of Henry VIII. SIR THOMAS MORE (1480-1535). Born the son of a judge of the King's Bench, and educated at Oxford, More entered life with all external advantages, and soon reached a distinguished situation in the law and in state employments. He was appointed lord chancellor in 1529, being the first layman who ever held the office. At all periods of his life, he was a zealous professor of the Catholic faith, insomuch that he was at one time with difficulty restrained from becoming a monk. When Henry wished to divorce Katharine, he was opposed by the conscientious More, who accordingly incurred his displeasure, and perished on the scaffold. The specific charge against More was, that he had traitorously attempted to deprive the king of his title of Supreme Head of the Church; but, even according to the indictment, the only evidence of this was that More, being examined on the 7th of May 1535, whether he accepted the king as head of the church, answered that he would not meddle with the matter; and that he had written a letter to Bishop Fisher, informing him how he had answered, and remarking that the law was like a sword with two edges, for if a man answered one way it would confound his soul, and if another it would confound his body. To support this charge, the solicitor-general, Rich, related a conversation he had with More in the Tower, in which a miserable quibbling attempt was made to entrap Sir Thomas, imputing to him expressions which he utterly denied, and which, if true, could not be held to amount to a violation of the statute. The trial was a mockery of the forms of legal justice. The cheerful, or rather mirthful disposition of the learned chancellor forsook him not at the last, and he jested even when about to lay his head upon the block. The character of More was most benignant, as the letter to his wife, who was illtempered, written after the burning of some of his property, expressively shews, at the same time that it is a good specimen of his English prose. The domestic circle at his house in Chelsea, where the profoundly learned statesman at once paid reverence to his parents and sported with his children, has been made the subject of an interesting picture by the great artist of that age, Holbein.

The literary productions of More are partly in Latin, and partly in English: he adopted the former language probably from taste, the latter for the purpose of reaching the commonalty.*

Besides some epistles and other minor writings, he wrote, in Latin, a curious philosophical work under the title of Utopia, which, describing an a word to the English language, every scheme of imaginary model country and people, has added national improvement founded on extreme theoretical views being since then termed Utopian. The most of the English writings of More are pamphlets on the religious controversies of his day, and the only one which is now of value is A History of Edward V. and of his Brother, and of Richard III. which Mr Hallam considers as the first English prose work free of vulgarisms and pedantry.

it was then revised by More, and sent, through The Utopia was first printed at Louvain in 1516; Erasmus, to John Frobenius at Basle to print, and this second edition is dated November 1518. It was first translated into English by Ralph Robinson in 1551, and a second edition, revised, was issued by Robinson in 1556. Bishop Gilbert Burnet published a translation in 1684.

The design of Utopia was no doubt suggested by the Atalantis of Plato. The intention of Sir Thomas More is to set forth his idea of those social arrangements whereby the happiness and improvement of the people may be secured to the utmost extent of which human nature is susceptible; though, probably, he has pictured more than he really conceived it possible to effect. Experience proves that many of his suggestions are indeed Utopian. In his imaginary island, for instance, all are contented with the necessaries of life; all are employed in useful labour; no man desires, in clothing, any other quality besides durability; and since wants are few, and every individual engages in labour, there is no need for working more than six hours a day. Neither laziness nor avarice finds a place in this happy region; for why should the people be indolent when they have so little toil, or greedy when they know that there is abundance for each? All this, it is evident, is incompatible with qualities inherent in human nature: man requires the stimulus of self-interest to render him industrious and persevering; he loves not utility merely, but ornament; he possesses a spirit of emulation which makes

A man of law that never sawe
The wayes to buy and sell,
Wenyng to ryse by merchandyse,
I pray God spede him well!
A merchaunt eke, that will go seke
By all the meanes he may,
To fall in sute till he dispute
His money cleane away;
Pletyng the lawe for every stray
Shall prove a thrifty man,
With bate and strife, but by my life
I cannot tell you whan.
Whan an hatter will smatter
In philosophy,

Or a pedlar waxe a medlar

In theology, &c.

Warton is inclined to think that More wrote the following

The following is a specimen of Sir Thomas More's juvenile epigram, published anonymously in Tottel's Miscellany, 1557. poetry:

He that hath lafte the hosier's crafte,

And fallth to makyng shone;

The smyth that shall to painting fall,

His thrift is well nigh done.

A black draper with whyte paper,

To goe to writing scole,

An old butler become a cutler

I wene shall prove a fole.

And an old trot, that can, God wot,
Nothing but kyss the cup,

With her physicke will kepe one sicke,
Till she hath soused hym up.

The lines are worth quoting, as being the first pointed epigram in the language:

Of a New-married Student that played Fast or Loose.

A student at his book so placed
That wealth he might have won,
From book to wife did flit in haste,
From wealth to woe to run.
Now, who hath played a feater cast
Since juggling first begun!

In knitting of himself so fast,
Himself he hath undone.

69

59

him endeavour to outstrip his fellows, and a desire to accumulate property even for its own sake. With much that is Utopian, however, the work contains many sound suggestions. Thus, instead of severe punishment of theft, the author would improve the morals and condition of the people, so as to take away the temptation to crime; for, says he, 'if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves, and then punish them?' In Utopia, we are told, war is never entered on but for some gross injury done to themselves, or, more especially, to their allies; and the glory of a general is in proportion, not to the number, but to the fewness of the enemies whom he slays in gaining a victory. Criminals are generally punished with slavery, even for the greatest misdeeds, since servitude is no less terrible than death itself; and, by making slaves of malefactors, not only does the public get the benefit of their labour, but the continual sight of their misery is more effectual than their death to deter other men from crime. It is one of the oldest laws of the Utopians, that no man ought to be punished for his religion-'it being a fundamental opinion among them, that a man cannot make himself believe anything he pleases; nor do they drive any to dissemble their thoughts by threatenings, so that men are not tempted to lie or disguise their opinions among them; which, being a sort of fraud, is abhorred by the Utopians.' Every man may endeavour to convert others to his views by the force of amicable and modest argument, without bitterness against those of other opinions; but whoever adds reproach and violence to persuasion, is to be condemned to banishment or slavery. Such tolerant views were extremely rare in the days of Sir Thomas More, and in later life were lamentably departed from by himself in practice; for, in persecuting the Protestants, he displayed a degree of intolerance and severity which were strangely at variance both with the opinions of his youth and the general mildness of his disposition.

together within one pale or hedge, the husbandmen be
thrust owte of their oune, or els either by coneyne and
fraude, or by violent oppression, they be put besydes it,
or by wronges and injuries thei be so weried, that they
be compelled to sell all: by one meanes therfore or by
departe awaye, poor selye, wretched soules, men, women,
other, either by hooke or crooke, they must needes
husbands, wiues, fatherlesse children, widowes, wofull
mothers, with their yonge babes, and their whole hous-
hold smal in substance, and much in numbre, as hus-
bandrye requireth manye handes. Awaye thei trudge,
I say, out of their knowen and accustomed houses,
fyndynge no place to reste in. All their housholde stuffe,
whiche is verye litle woorthe, thoughe it myght well
abide the sale; yet beeynge sodainely thruste oute, they
be constrayned to sell it for a thing of nought.
They go aboute and worke not: whom no man wyl set
a worke, though thei neuer so willyngly profre them-
selues therto. For one shephearde or heardman is
ynoughe to eate vp that grounde with cattel, to the
occupying wherof aboute husbandrye many handes were
requisite. And this is also the cause why victualles be
now in many places dearer. Yea, besides this, the price
of wolle is so rysen, that poor folkes, which were wont
to work it, and make cloth therof, be nowe hable to bye
none at all.

The Utopian Idea of Pleasure.

From Bishop Burnet's translation of the Utopia.

They think it is an evidence of true wisdom for a allow it. They account it piety to prefer the public man to pursue his own advantages as far as the laws good to one's private concerns. But they think it unjust for a man to seek for his own pleasure, by snatching another man's pleasures from him. And, on the contrary, they think it a sign of a gentle and good soul for a man to dispense with his own advantage for the good of others; and that, by so doing, a good man finds as much pleasure one way as he parts with another; for, as he may expect the like from others when he may come to need it, so, if that should fail him, yet the sense of a good action, and the reflections that one makes on the love and gratitude of those whom he has so obliged, give the mind more pleasure than the body could have found in that from which it had restrained itself. They are also persuaded that God will make up the loss of those small pleasures with a vast and endless joy, of which religion does easily convince a good soul. Thus, upon an inquiry into the whole matter, they reckon that all our actions, and even all our virtues, terminate in pleasure, as in our chief end and greatest happiness; and they call every motion or state, either of body or mind, in which nature teaches us to delight, a pleasure. And thus they cautiously limit pleasure only to those appetites to which nature leads us; for they reckon that nature leads us only to those delights to which reason as well as sense carries us, and by which we neither injure any other person, nor let go greater pleasures for it, and which do not draw troubles on us after them; but they look upon those delights which men, by a foolish though common mistake, call pleasure, as if they could change the nature of things, as well as the use of words, as things that not only do not advance our happiness, but do rather obstruct it very much, because they do so entirely possess the minds of those that once go into them with a false notion of pleasure, that there is no room left for truer and purer pleasures.

Sheep-masters Decayers of Husbandry. From translation of Utopia by Ralph Robinson, 1556. Your shepe that were wont to be so meke and tame, and so smal eaters, now, as I heare saye, be become so great deuowerers and so wylde, that they eate vp, and swallow downe, the very men themselves. They consume, destroye, and deuoure whole fieldes, howses, and cities. For looke in what partes of the realme doth growe the fynest, and therfore dearest woll, there noblemen and gentlemen: yea, and certeyn abbotes, holy men no doubt, not contenting them selfes with the yearely reuenues and profytes, that were wont to grow to theyr forefathers and predecessours of their landes, nor beynge content that liue in rest and pleasure, nothing profiting, yea much noyinge the weale publique : leave no ground for tillage, thei inclose al into pastures: thei throw doune houses: thei plucke doune tounes, and But of all pleasures, they esteem those to be the most leaue nothing standynge, but only the churche to be valuable that lie in the mind; and the chief of these made a shepehowse. And as thoughe you loste no are those that arise out of true virtue, and the witness small quantity of grounde by forestes, chases, laundes, of a good conscience. They account health the chief and parkes, those good holy men turne all dwellinge pleasure that belongs to the body; for they think that places, and all glebeland, into desolation and wildernes. the pleasure of eating and drinking, and all the other deTherfore that one couetous and vnsatiable cormaraunte lights of the body, are only so far desirable as they give and very plage of his natyue contrey may compasse or maintain health. But they are not pleasant in themaboute and inclose many thousand akers of grounde | selves, otherwise than as they resist those impressions

that our natural infirmity is still making upon us; and, as a wise man desires rather to avoid diseases than to take physic, and to be freed from pain rather than to find ease by remedies, so it were a more desirable state not to need this sort of pleasure, than to be obliged to indulge it. And if any man imagines that there is a real happiness in this pleasure, he must then confess that he would be the happiest of all men, if he were to lead his life in a perpetual hunger, thirst, and itching, and by consequence in perpetual eating, drinking, and scratching himself, which, any one may easily see, would be not only a base but a miserable state of life. These are, indeed, the lowest of pleasures, and the least pure; for we can never relish them but when they are mixed with the contrary pains. The pain of hunger must give us the pleasure of eating; and here the pain outbalances the pleasure; and, as the pain is more vehement, so it lasts much longer; for, as it is upon us before the pleasure comes, so it does not cease, but with the pleasure that extinguishes it, and that goes off with it; so that they think none of those pleasures are to be valued, but as they are necessary. Yet they rejoice in them, and with due gratitude acknowledge the tenderness of the great Author of nature, who has planted in us appetites, by which those things that are necessary for our preservation are likewise made pleasant to us. For how miserable a thing would life be, if those daily diseases of hunger and thirst were to be carried off by such bitter drugs as we must use for those diseases that return seldomer upon us! And thus these pleasant, as well as proper gifts of nature, do maintain the strength and the sprightliness of our bodies.

Character of Richard III.

Richarde, the thirde sonne of Richarde, Duke of York, was in witte and courage egall with his two brothers, in bodye and prowesse farre vnder them bothe; little of stature, il fetured of limmes, croke backed, his left shoulder much higher than his right, hard fauoured of visage, and such as is in states called warlye, in other menne otherwise, he was malicious, wrathfull, enuious, and from afore his birth, euer frowarde. . . None euill captaine was hee in the warre, as to whiche his disposicion was more metely then for peace. Sundrye victories hadde hee, and sommetime ouerthrowes, but neuer in defaulte as for his owne parsone, either of hardinesse or polytike order, free was hee called of dyspence, and sommewhat aboue hys power liberall, with large giftes hee get him vnstedfaste frendeshippe, for whiche hee was fain to pil and spoyle in other places, and get him stedfast hatred. Hee was close and secrete, a deepe dissimuler, lowlye of counteynaunce, arrogant of heart, outwardly coumpinable where he inwardely hated, not letting to kisse whome hee thoughte to kyll: dispitious and cruell, not for euill will alway, but after for ambicion, and either for the suretie or encrease of his estate. Frende and foo was muche what indifferent, where his aduantage grew; he spared no mans deathe, whose life withstoode his purpose. He slewe with his owne handes king Henry the sixt, being prisoner in the Tower, as menne constantly saye, and that without commaundement or knoweledge of the king, whiche woulde vndoubtedly yf he had entended that thinge, haue appointed that boocherly office to some other then his owne borne

brother.

Letter to Lady More.

Returning from the negotiations at Cambray, Sir Thomas More heard that his barns and some of those of his neighbours' had been burned down; he consequently wrote the following letter to his wife. Its gentleness to a sour-tempered woman, and the benevolent feelings expressed about the property of his neighbours, have been much admired. We have modernised the spelling.

Mistress Alice, in my most heartywise I recommend mé to you. And whereas I am informed by my son Heron of the loss of our barns and our neighbours' also, with all the corn that was therein; albeit (saving God's

pleasure) it is great pity of so much good corn lost, yet sith it hath liked him to send us such a chance, we must and are bounden, not only to be content, but also to be glad of his visitation. He sent us all that we have lost; and sith he hath by such a chance taken it away again, his pleasure be fulfilled! Let us never grudge thereat, but take it in good worth, and heartily thank him, as well for adversity as for prosperity. And peradventure we have more cause to thank him for our loss than for our winning, for his wisdom better seeth what is good for us than we do ourselves. Therefore, I pray you be of good cheer, and take all the household with you to church, and there thank God, both for that he has given us, and for that he has taken from us, and for that he hath left us; which, if it please him, he can increase when he will. And if it please him to leave us yet less, at his pleasure be it!

I pray you to make some good ensearch what my poor neighbours have lost, and bid them take no thought therefore; for, if I should not leave myself a spoon, there shall no poor neighbour of mine bear no loss by any chance happened in my house. I pray you be, with my children and your household, merry in God; and devise somewhat with your friends what way were best to take, for provision to be made for corn for our household, and for seed this year coming, if we think it good that we keep the ground still in our hands. And whether we think it good that we so shall do or not, yet I think it were not best suddenly thus to leave it all up, and to put away our folk off our farm, till we have somewhat advised us thereon. Howbeit, if we have more now than ye shall need, and which can get them other masters, ye may then discharge us of them. But I would not that any man were suddenly sent away, he wot not whither.

At my coming hither, I perceived none other but that I should tarry still with the king's grace. But now I shall, I think, because of this chance, get leave this next week to come home and see you, and then shall we further devise together upon all things, what order shall be best to take.

And thus as heartily fare you well, with all our children, as ye can wish. At Woodstock, the third day of September [1528], by the hand of your loving husband, THOMAS MORE, Knight.

Act of Parliament in Favour of Husbandry.

was said regarding husbandry by Sir Thomas More, and is a The following Act, 25th of Henry VIII. (1533), illustrates what specimen of the English of the period.

Whereas divers and sundry persons of the king's subjects of this realm, to whom God of his goodness hath disposed great plenty and abundance of movable substance, now of late, within few years, have daily studied, practised, and invented ways and means how they might accumulate and gather together into few hands, as well great multitude of farms as great plenty of cattle, and in especial, sheep, putting such lands as they can get to pasture, and not to tillage; whereby they have not only pulled down churches and towns, and enhanced the old rates of the rents of the possessions of this realm, or else brought it to such excessive fines have raised and enhanced the prices of all manner of that no poor man is able to meddle with it, but also corn, cattle, wool, pigs, geese, hens, chickens, eggs, and such other commodities, almost double above the price which hath been accustomed, by reason whereof a marvellous multitude of the poor people of this realm be not able to provide meat, drink, and clothes necessary for themselves, their wives, and children, but be so discouraged with misery and poverty, that they fall daily to theft, robbery, and other inconveniences, or pitifully die for hunger or cold; and it is thought by the king's humble and loving subjects that one of the greatest occasions that moveth those greedy and covetous people so to accumulate and keep in their hands such great portions and parts of the lands of this realm from the

occupying of the poor husbandmen, and so to use it in pasture and not in tillage, is the great profit that cometh of sheep which be now come into a few persons' hands, in respect of the whole number of the king's subjects, it is hereby enacted, that no person shall have or keep on lands not their own inheritance more than two thousand sheep; that no person shall occupy more than two farms; and that the 19th of the 4th of Henry VII. and those other acts obliging the lords of the fees to do their duty, shall be re-enated and enforced.

JOHN FISHER.

FISHER, BISHOP OF ROCHESTER (1459-1535), was chiefly distinguished by writings in Latin against the Lutheran doctrines. He was a steadfast adherent of the Church of Rome, and his name is tarnished with some severities, but we have the testimony of Erasmus that he possessed many of the best points of human character. He steadily refused translation to a more valuable bishopric, and he finally laid down his life, along with Sir Thomas More, in a conscientious adherence to the principle of the validity of the nuptials of Queen Katharine. While in the Tower the pope acknowledged his worth and consistency by the gift of a cardinal's hat, which drew from Henry the brutal remark: 'Well, let the pope send him a hat when he will; mother of God! he shall wear it on his shoulders then, for I will leave him never a head to set it on!' The English writings of Bishop Fisher consist of sermons, and a few small religious tracts, printed in one volume at Würzburg in 1595. One of the sermons was a funeral one, preached in 1509, in honour of the Countess of Richmond (mother of Henry VII.), whose chaplain he had been. In it he presents a remarkable portraiture of a pious lady of rank of that age, with a curious detail of the habits then thought essential to a religious gentlewoman. He praises her nobleness of person, manners, nature, and lineage, and adds some details of her daily life.

Habits of a Pious Lady of Rank in the Reign of
Henry VII.

Her sober temperance in meats and drinks was known to all them that were conversant with her, wherein she lay in as great weight of herself as any person might, keeping alway her strait measure, and offending as little as any creature might: eschewing banquets, reresuppers, juiceries betwixt meals. As for fasting, for age and feebleness, albeit she were not bound, yet those days that by the church were appointed, she kept them diligently and seriously, and in especial the holy Lent throughout, that she restrained her appetite till one meal of fish on the day; besides her other peculiar fasts of devotion, as St Anthony, St Mary Magdalene, St Catharine, with other; and throweout all the year, the Friday and Saturday she full truly observed. As to hard clothes wearing, she had her shirts and girdles of hair, which, when she was in health, every week she failed not certain days to wear, sometime the one, sometime the other, that full often her skin, as I heard her say, was pierced therewith.... In prayer, every day at her uprising, which commonly was not long after five of the clock, she began certain devotions, and so after them, with one of her gentlewomen, the matins of our lady; then she came into her closet, where then with her chaplain she said also matins of the day; and after that

1 Second suppers. When supper took place at four or five o'clock, it was not uncommon, on festive occasions, to have a second served up at a later hour.

daily heard four or five masses upon her knees; so continuing in her prayers and devotions unto the hour of dinner, which of the eating-day was ten of the clock, and upon the fasting-day eleven. After dinner full truly she would go her stations to three altars daily; daily her dirges and commendations she would say, and her even-songs before supper, both of the day and of our lady, beside many other prayers and psalters of David throughout the year; and at night before she went to bed, she failed not to resort unto her chapel, and there a large quarter of an hour to occupy her devotions. No marvel, though all this long time her kneeling was to her painful, and so painful that many times it caused in her she was in health, she failed not to say the crown of our back pain and disease. And yet nevertheless, daily when lady, which after the manner of Rome containeth sixty and three aves, and at every ave to make a kneeling. As for meditation, she had divers books in French, wherewith she would occupy herself when she was weary of prayer. Wherefore divers she did translate out of the French into English. Her marvellous weeping they can bear witness of, which here before have heard her confession, which be divers and many, and at many seasons in the year, lightly every third day. Can also record the same tho that were present at any time when she was houshilde, which was full nigh a dozen times every year, what floods of tears there issued forth of her eyes!

SIR THOMAS ELYOT-BISHOP LATIMER.

SIR THOMAS ELYOT, an eminent physician of the reign of Henry VIII. by whom he was employed in several embassies, was the author of a popular professional work, entitled The Castle of Health, in which many sound precepts are delivered with respect to diet and regimen. Of his other productions, one, The Governor, is devoted chiefly to the subject of education. He recommends, as Montaigne and Locke subsequently did, that children be taught to speak Latin from their infancy; and he deprecates 'cruel and yrous, or irascible schoolmasters, by whom the wits of children be dulled, whereof we need no better author to witness than daily experience.' Mr Hallam observes, in reference to this passage, that 'all testimonies concur as to this savage illtreatment of boys in the schools of that period. The fierceness of the Tudor government, the religious intolerance, the polemical brutality, the rigorous justice, when justice it was, of our laws, seem to have engendered a hardness of character, which displayed itself in severity of discipline, when it did not even reach the point of arbitrary or malignant cruelty.' Sir Thomas Elyot died in 1546.

HUGH LATIMER (circa 1485-1555) distinguished himself as a zealous reformer, not less than Sir Thomas More did on the opposite side. He was a native of Thurcaston, county of Leicester, was educated at Cambridge, entered the Church, but becoming acquainted with Thomas Bilney, a celebrated defender of the doctrines of Luther, he boldly maintained in the pulpit the truth of the Protestant doctrines. His preaching at Cambridge gave great offence to the Catholic clergy, at whose instigation Cardinal Wolsey instituted a court of bishops and deacons to execute the laws against heretics. Before this court, Bilney and Latimer were summoned, when the recantation of the former, who was considered the principal man, caused both to be set at liberty. Bilney

1 Received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.

« AnteriorContinuar »