Cardinal Pole bewailed the death of his friend with elegance and feeling. After comparing his death to that of Socrates, he adds: "I have seen even the greatest strangers, men who never knew him, never shared a favour at his hands, so much affected by his death, that, in reading the history of it, they could not withhold their tears; they wept at the mere fame of his fate. And I, at this distance, when writing of his death, although I was not bound to him by any private ties, but loved and esteemed him rather for his virtue and probity, and from the sense I had of the important services he had rendered to my country, yet God is my witness that I shed involuntary tears, which so impede my pen, and blot what I write, that with difficulty do I proceed in my task." So great was the impression produced on the Continent by these tragedies, as to inspire with caution all those who had transactions with the country. The reformers, Melancthon and Bucer, being about to proceed to London, on a mission from the Protestant Princes of Germany, felt no relish for the honour of martyrdom, and relinquished all immediate intention of their journey; and Erasmus emphatically describes the situation of the country, by stating that the most intimate friends were fearful of corresponding with each other. It filled Italy, the most cultivated portion of Europe, with horror. Paulo Jovio, the historian, called Henry a second Phalaris, "though," says Mackintosh, "in vain do we look in that, or any other history of a tyrant, real or imaginary, for a victim worthy of being compared to More." The English ministers throughout Europe were regarded with averted eyes as the agents of a monster. The Catholic zeal of Spain, and the resentment of the Spanish people against the oppression of Catharine, quickened their sym"The men who were highest in Henry's favour had their heads the nearest to danger."-Cardinal Pole. pathy with More, and aggravated their detestation of Henry. Mason, the English agent in Spain, writes with strong feeling of the horror which he sees manifested around him at these deeds of blood. "What end," he exclaims, "this tragedy will have God only knows, if that indeed may be called a tragedy which began in a wedding!" Harvey, the resident in Venice, reports the indignation of the citizens at the destruction of men of such honour and virtue, in defiance of the laws both of God and man. He ends by declaring that all he hears disgusts him with public life, and disposes him to retire from such scenes. The Emperor Charles V., on the arrival of these tidings, sent for Sir Thomas Elliot, the English ambassador, and said to him: "Sir, we understand that the king your master has put his faithful servant and wise counsellor, Sir Thomas More, to death." Elliot replied that he knew nothing of the matter. "Well," said the emperor, "it is too true. And this will we say, that had we been master of such a servant, of whose doings ourselves have had these many years no small experience, we would rather have lost the best city of our dominions than such a counsellor." This anecdote, adds Roper, was reported to myself, my wife, and other friends, by Sir Thomas Elliot himself. The King of France also spoke to the English ambassador of these executions with great severity, and gave it as his advice that Henry should banish such offenders, rather than put them to death. To counteract these unfavourable impressions, Crumwell addressed the following letter of instructions to Sir John Wallop, the King's ambassador in Paris. After discussing some minor matters, the letter continues as follows: "And concerning the executions done, you shall say to the French king, that the same were not so marvellous extreme as he allegeth; for touching Master More and the Bishop of Rochester, with such others as were executed here, their treasons, conspiracies, and practices, secretly practised, as well within the realm as without, to move and stir dissension, and to sow sedition, intending thereby not only the destruction of the king, but also the whole subversion of his highness's realm, being explained and declared, and so manifestly proved before them, that they could not avoid nor deny it; and they, therefore, openly detected and lawfully convicted, judged, and condemned of high treason by the due order of the laws of this realm, it shall and may well appear to all the world, that they, having such malice rooted in their hearts against their prince and sovereign, and the total destruction of the commonweal of this realm, were well worthy, if they had had a thousand lives, to have suffered ten times a more terrible death and execution than any of them did suffer.-And touching such words as the French King spoke unto you, concerning how Master More died, and what he said to his daughter goingto his judgment, and also what exhortations he should give unto the king's subjects to be true and obedient to his grace, I assure you there was no such thing. And the king's pleasure is, that you should say unto the said French king, that his highness cannot otherwise take it, but very unkindly, that the French king, or any of his council, at whose hands he hath so much merited, and to whom he hath ministered so many great benefits, pleasures, and commodities, should so lightly give ear, faith, and credence to any such vain bruits and flying tales, not having first knowledge or advertisement from the king here and his council, of their verity and truth: affirming it to be the office of a friend, hearing any such tales of so noble a prince, rather to have compressed the bearers thereof to silence, or, at the least, not to have permitted them to divulge the same until such time as the king's majesty, being so dear a friend, had been advertised thereof, and the truth known, before he should so lightly believe or allege any such report. This ingrate and unkind demeanor of the said French king, used in this behalf, argueth plainly, that there do not remain in his breast that integrity of heart and sincere amity towards the king and his proceedings, as his highness always heretofore hath expected and looked for. Which thing you may propose and allege unto the said French king and the grand master, or to one of them, with such modesty and soberness as that you think they may perceive that the king's highness hath good and just cause on his part, somewhat to take their light credence unkindly. And thus making an end, I pray you to use your discretion in the proposing of the premises to the French king and the grand master, or the one or both of them; using the same as a medicine, and after such sort, that, as near as ye can, it may be not displeasantly taken. And so for this time I bid you most heartily farewell. At Thornbury, the 23d day of August, 1535. Your assured friend, THOMAS CRUMWELL." The direct and unblushing contempt of truth displayed in this letter, and its flat contradictions of facts that had passed but a few days before under the very eyes of astonished Europe, need no comment here, but naturally lead us to reflect upon the character of the council of which Crumwell was the head. In order to form a just estimate of the virtues and vices of an individual, the circumstances of his age, and the character of his contemporaries, should be taken into consideration. Strype, anxious as he is on all occasions to save Henry's character, is obliged to acknowledge" how mortally the king was hated in Italy, and railed at in all societies abroad." There were, however, sycophants at home who strove to neutralize the effect of this by a larger dose of flattery. Listen * Strype's Memorials, p. 166. to Sir R. Morryson: "Quis tam barbarus, ut in principis serenissimo ore, clementissimi regis signa non videat? Quis potuit unquam frontem illam vel procul vidisse, et non agnovisse clementiæ sedem ? "* And Sir Thomas Chaloner thus pens in heroics an excuse for his little peccadilloes: 66 Quominus id mirum est, si fortunatior et rex It will place the virtue of More in stronger relief to contrast it with the weakness and vices of the leading men of the age in which he lived. They are thus described by a masterly and impartial pen: They yielded to every mandate of his [Henry's] imperious will; they bent with every breath of his capricious humour; they are responsible for the illegal trial, for the iniquitous attainder, for the sanguinary statute, for the tyranny which they sanctioned by law, and for that which they permitted to subsist without law. Nor was this selfish and pusillanimous subserviency more characteristic of the minions of Henry's favour, the Crum wells, the Riders, the Pagets, the Russells, and the Pauletts, than of the representatives of ancient and honourable names, the Norfolks, the Arundels, the Shrewsburys. We trace these noble statesmen concurring in all the inconsistencies of this reign, and supporting all the changes of religion; constant only in the rapacious acquisition of estates and honours from whatever source, and in adherence to the present power." (Hallam, Constitu. Hist. I. 51.) Who so barbarous as not to recognize in that serenest of countenances the living impress of the most clement of kings? Who could gaze on that brow, even from a distance, and not hail it as the throne of clemency? "The grossest libel upon worn-out cruelty, is to honest it with the title of clemency."-Sir Thos. Overbury. + What wonder if a highly favour'd king Should now and then commit a naughty thing, Indulging, as he may, a royal taste; Venial in him what others had disgrac❜d. |