Margaret Roper; or, the Chancellor and his daughter

Front matter

OE, THE CHANCELLOR AND HIS DAUGHTER. OB, &bc Cljaiucllov imu bis gaugbtcv. BX AGNES STEWART. Authoress of " Florence O'Neill," " The Foster Sisters," " General Questions," etc., etc. "And when her dear, dear father passed along, Would not be held, but bursting through the throng, Halberd and battle-axe, Hssed him o'er and o'er ; Then turned and went, then sought him as before, Believing she should see his face no more." — Rogers' "Human Life." LONDON: - BURNS and OATES, 17 & 18, Pobtjian Street, and 63, Paternoster Row. Dutler & Tanner, Jhe SelviOod Printing Works, Frome, and London. A FEW WOKDS TO THE EEADER. Vert scant have been the records I have been able to glean concerning the celebrated heroine of domestic life, Margaret Roper. Had I been more successful, no portion of the unpretending little volume now presented to the public would have been worked up with fiction.

The reader will, however, please to bear in mind that the principal scenes between Sir Thomas More and his admirable daughter are in no way imaginative. It would be hard to separate the one from the other, so united were they in life. With the filial devotion of Margaret, and the beautiful simpbcity which marked the character of her father, all must needs be charmed, and must surely grant to that great man the credit of having laid his head on the block from a firm conviction in the truth of the doctrines of the faith he professed. But as the most blameless cannot always escape the shafts of calumny, so spotless as was the life of More, there were not wanting some who maligned him after his death, and he has been particularly charged with being a persecutor of those who favoured the teaching of the Reformers.

From his retreat at Chelsea, More beheld the VI A FEW WORDS TO THE READER. storm steadily gathering, which at length broke over the English church • and witnessing the signs which foretold the coming tempest, he resolved to leave behind him a testimony of his unwavering faith to his contemporaries and to posterity, and with this view he himself wrote the epitaph which was to be placed on his tomb, by which he declares that in death he was faithful to the creed he had professed during his life. One word in this epitaph has given rise to doubts as to his charity, for he seems to glorify himself in having been a trouble to heretics. "Molestus "* is the word he uses, and to his adver saries it appears as though he piqued himself on a systematic intolerance which he desired should be paraded even on his tombstone.

Part I. Page Chapter

I. The Chancellor's Second Wife .... . 1 CHAPTER H. Margaret and her Sisters 8 CHAPTER HI. The Chancellor's Household 15 CHAPTER TV. Queen Katharine 22

CHAPTER V.

The House at Chelsea 27

CHAPTER VI.

The Blind Scholar 39

CHAPTER VII.

Hans Holbein 48

CHAPTER VIII.

The Visit to Aldgate 52

CHAPTER IX.

In Favour with the King 60

CHAPTER X.

The Story or Ralph Clavering 66

CHAPTER XI.

Holmeswood Grange 82 CHAPTER XH. In Newgate CONTENTS. X PAGE

CHAPTER XIII.

Sentenced ey a Supreme Tribunal 100

CHAPTER XIV.

Maud's Choice 10°

CHAPTER XV.

The Chancellor 10S

CHAPTER XVI.

Father and Daughter 115 CHAPTER XVH. The Bishop and the Chancellor 123

CHAPTER XVIII.

The King and the Statesman 12s

CHAPTER XIX.

A Broken Household . 13^

CHAPTER XX.

The Divorced Queen 140

CHAPTER XXI.

Deepening Shadows 1 -15

CHAPTER XXII.

Before the Council i5S CHAPTER XXIH. A Lull in the Storm 163

Chapter XI

The Mistress op Ratham Farm 261 CHAPTER XH. In Memoriam .......... EXPLANATION OF ENGRAVING FROM HOLBEIN'S CELE- BRATED PICTURE. {Copied by autotype, by permission of Trustees of the British Museum.) Elizabeth Dancy stands by a cupboard putting on a glove ; behind her stands Margaret Clements ; beside Elizabeth is Sir John More in his robes, and next to him Sir Thomas in his chancellor's robes ; between them stands Anne Cresacre the wife of John, her husband in the background ; Margaret is seated on a low stool with a book in her hand, wide open ; on one side is Lady More, on the other her sister Cicely. MAEGAEET EOPEE

Chapter I. The Chancellor's Second Wife, Omewhere

about the year 1508 there was born into the world a little child, who, when grown up to womanhood, deservedly became known as one of the most celebrated women of her time. looking back through the dim vista of more HiLnn three centuries and a half we cannot gather as Lch as we could wish of the famous Margaret Roper, the eldest and best beloved daughter of Sir Thomas More. It must needs be that, whilst writing our work, of which Margaret will be the heroine, the life of her father must be interwoven with hers ; so closely were these two united together that the one cannot be separated from the other. Nbw from the various works we have consulted we clearly glean that Margaret was ever by her father, in the B ordeal of persecution and trial unto death which he was doomed to undergo; so we may take it for granted that she above all others was his companion whilst the sun of prosperity beamed on him, and all things were bright and pleasant in the path of the great chancellor.

Left a widower after six brief years of happy wedded life, Sir Thomas was fain for the sake of his motherless children to take a second wife ; and within between two and three years after his first wife's death he married a widow lady, by name Alice Middleton. We are told that she was seven years the senior of Sir Thomas, that she was plain of feature, had scant means, an only daughter by her first husband, and that in disposition she was mean, and grasp ing, and worldly. Thomas More, however, did not at first woo the lady on his own account, but was doing the business for a friend ; but the lady gave him to understand that he would succeed better if he pleaded in his own behalf, and bid him go tell his friend what she had said. And it so happened that More married her himself. To a pleasant country house at Chelsea which he had built, side by side with a farm, and which stood amidst extensive gardens and meadows, did More bring his second wife a few days after his marriage ; this union was wholly dissimilar to the first he had formed, it was one not of sentiment but of convenience.

It was a bright beautiful morning ; four little children, three girls and a tiny boy, were amusing themselves on the lawn in front of the house, the garden of which stretched down to the bank of the Thames. The Ghelsey of 1514 was very unlike the Chelsea of our own time, it was then a pleasant village three miles from London. The blue waters of the river were not polluted as now by THE CHANCELLOR'S SECOND WIFE. 3 factories, its shores were smooth and flat, and in the dis tance might be seen the Surrey hills ; close by were pleasant meadows in which the cattle were peacefully grazing, and like a band of silver shimmering in the sunlight the river wound its way, kissed by the delicate water-lily and the overhanging branches of the trees that skirted the garden. A beautiful child of some seven years of age, with golden brown hair and soft hazel eyes, has just stolen from the little group, and book in hand is diligently conning a task.

Suddenly Elizabeth, the eldest of the three little ones, looked up at one of the open windows of the house, and then running to her sister, exclaimed : " Look up, Meg, our new mother hath come home." Meg started, and then tears trembled in her eyes, a flush overspread her face, the complexion of which resembled the delicate pearly tint of an Indian shell. She was barely five years old when she lost her mother. A precocious clever child with quick instincts does not soon forget a tender loving parent ; and as poor Margaret advanced to the open window at which her father stood with his new wife, she saw little to win her love in the large hard features of the dame whom he had married, but whose kiss she at once returned. Appearances are deceptive however, for the dame proved a kind and careful step-mother.

A sorrowful change, however, had crept over the household ; it was henceforth to be governed by a woman who proved herself of a hard and shrewish temper. Tet More might have put a far worse dame over his little ones : she had not a bad heart, though for the trial of those around her she had a very bad temper. Mistress More seemed to live but to save, whilst she was wont to say her husband lived only to give and to spend. So far Mistress More was not wrong; his overwhelming charity kept pace with his success in his profession of the law ; and his own family of four was increased at once to six, asnpt only was the daughter of his second wife brought up with his own children, but also a child named Margaret Giggs, whom he adopted. But, as I have said, a great change settled down on More's household.

Mistress Alice fumed by day and fretted by night at the too lavish expenditure in all household arrangements, forgetting that prosperity attended her husband to an extent attained but by few, and that he was gaining already what in those days was deemed a large income. It must be owned too that the sharp sayings and near calculations of the new mistress were ill calculated to improve the peace of the household; and after for some time giving the matter due consideration, he decided that the best way to ensure a greater stock of domestic quietude than had fallen to his lot since his second marriage would be to induce his wife to turn her mind to other things than housekeeping. But it was with a look of incredulity, as if she thought he had lost his senses, she replied to his quiet suggestion that she should henceforth devote some portion of her time to learning to play on some one or more musical instruments.

" I prithee, wife, I am in earnest," said he, "so do not look so incredulous. Why should you not learn the viol and the lute, wherewith to cheer yourself and me ? " " Nay, Mr. More, you do but jest, I am too old." "Nay, nay, wife; I assure you I never spoke more seriously, and to prove I am in earnest I will send you a master to-morrow to give you lessons ; I doubt not but that you will make an apt scholar. It will please me much, good wife, to note your improvement." THE CHANCELLOR'S SECOND WIFE. 5 Almost to his own surprise the dame gave her consent, and forthwith came the master ; and thus, with much of her time taken up, the domestics enjoyed a little less keen supervision, and the lady had less time to scold. The home of Sir Thomas More was unique in all its bear ings: he was a tender master, a loving father, an affectionate and faithful husband, and when he grew high in honour and favour with his prince was not puffed up with pride and arrogance, but of so mild and excellent a temper that he could never be moved to anger, notwithstanding the untoward disposition of Mistress Alice.

As to the young people by whom he was surrounded, the sun of them all was Margaret, who in these her childish days gave rich promise of a bright and glorious womanhood. Not only had More persuaded his wife to take lessons in music on various instruments, but by his skill and dexterity he induced her not to abandon what she had once attempted; and adults who have given themselves up to acquiring this art will understand that it was no light matter to Mistress More to learn to play on the viol, the lute, the cithara, and some other instruments, every day performing her task thereon till she at last became a very fair musician. I have said that, even as Margaret is the heroine of this work, the great Sir Thomas will be my hero ; for when were father and daughter more united in tastes, in virtue, in congeniality of sentiment?

Thus as many of my readers, especially the younger portion, may not have chanced to peruse a life of the holy chancellor, it is right to describe what manner of man he was, how he ruled his household, how wisely and discreetly, and yet how tenderly, this model bead of a family governed bis own. He was always wont to hear an entire mass every day before he undertook any worldly business, also to say the Matins of the Blessed Virgin, the seven psalms and litanies; at his meals be par took of but one dish, which was commonly grated beef, (though his table was ever plentifully spread,) and it was his custom always to mix water with his wine. He had small care as to the clothing be wore, insomuch that his secretary one day telling him that his shoes were broken out, he bade him tell his man to buy him new ones, this man buying all his garments at his discretion, Sir Thomas never busying his head about such matters; oftentimes, even when lord chancellor of England, he wore a hair shirt next his skin,* adding also to this austerity a discipline every Friday and on fasting days.

Whatever hardness he treated himself with secretly, still to outward appearance he was singularly cheerful, merry in company and full of jests, above all things avoiding singularity, and careful to hide the religious exercises he practised. In the thirty-sixth year of his age he wrote his famous " Utopia," which was speedily translated, from the original Latin in which it was written, into French, Italian, Dutch, and English. More was in advance of the age in which be lived, and his "Utopia" was neither more nor less than an ideal romance in which an imaginary commonwealth is described ; and in the sentiments he puts forward he shadows forth the more liberal and humane policy of our own times. In the court of Henry VIII., for the first twenty years * " Which my grandmother, on a time in the heat of summer, espying, laughed at, not being much sensible of such kind of spiritual exercises, being carried away in her youth with the bravery of the world, and not knowing qua sunt spiritus wherein the true wisdom of a Christian man consisteth." — Life of Sir Thomas More, by his great-grandson, Thomas More.

THE CHANCELLOR'S SECOND WIFE. 7 of his reign, the learned Erasmus testified that rare vir tues flourished; and after the king had made use of More in many embassies, and had created him one of his privy councillors, observing his fidelity and wisdom, he made him knight and then treasurer of the exchequer, and for the space of twenty years bestowed upon him every mark of affectionate trust. Poor human heart, so easily to turn from virtue to vice ! Who could have imagined that the then courtly, affable, and generous prince would ever develop into the sanguinary and brutal monster of after years ? Cruel and rapacious as he afterward became, he gave no evidence of these evil passions at this time, and it was his custom oftentimes to summon Sir Thomas to his side to converse with him of astronomy and divinity, and when the moon rode high in the heavens, and the sky was bespangled with myriads of stars, to summon More to walk with him on the leads of his palace, and converse with and question him on the courses and diversities of the stars and planets, whilst the heart of the former was yearning after the companionship of his wife and children.

Or again it might be that Sir Thomas was honoured by an invitation to sup with the king and queen, who loved to listen to the pleasant jests at which he was never wont to smile himself ; and when Sir Thomas found that scarce once in a month he got leave to visit his own home, and that he could not be absent a brief two days without being sent for, this restraint on his liberty he took so much to heart as to resolve to restrain his mirth and adopt a serious demeanour, breaking out into none of his accustomed witty sayings, so that little by little the love for his company decreased, and he was allowed more freedom in the length of his sojourn in his own home.

Chapter II. Margaret And Her Sisters

[10NGST her own sisters and the adopted daughters of Sir Thomas, Margaret shone the brightest, and excelled them all in beauty, wit, and wisdom ; the girl students in the " school of Sir Thomas More," as it was familiarly termed, may be said to have pioneered the way for the learned ladies skilled in Greek and Latin who succeeded them in after years. There are many, even in our own later times, who deny to woman the intelligence of the sterner sex : granting the truth of the assertion, Sir Thomas saw in it only a reason for increased diligence on the part of women, witness the following letter written to their preceptor, one William Gunnell.* I have received, my dear Gunnell, your letters such as they are wont to be, most elegant and full of affection.

Your love towards my children I gather by your letters, their diligence by their own, for every one of their epistles pleaseth me much, yet most especially I take joy to hear that my daughter Elizabeth hath showed as great prudence in her mother's absence as if she had been present ; let her know that that liked me better than all the epistles besides, for as I esteem learning which is joined with virtue more than all the treasures of kings, to what doth the fame of being a great scholar bring us, if it be severed from virtue, other than a notorious and famous infamy, especially in a woman, whom men will be the more ready to assail for then* learning because it is a rare matter, and argueth a reproach to the sluggishness of a man, who will not stick to lay the fault of their natural malice upon the quality of learning ; but if a woman, on the other hand, shall join many virtues of the mind with skill in learning, as I hope all mine will do, I shall account it a more happy * Life of Sir Thomas More, by his great-grandson.' MARGARET AND HER SISTERS. thing than if they had all the riches of Crcesus united to the beauty of the fair Helen, not because they were to get fame thereby, though it inseparably follows virtue as the shadow doth the body, but because they will obtain the true rewards of wisdom, which can never be taken away as wealth may, nor will it fade as beauty doth, because it dependeth on truth and justice, and not on the words of men's mouths, than which nothing is more foolish ; for as it is the duty of a good man to eschew infamy, so is it the property of a proud man to frame his actions only for praise, for that man's mind must be full of anxiety that always wavers, for fear of other men's judgments, between joy and sadness.

Amongst the benefits which learning hath bestowed on men I account it the most profitable that we look not for praise to be accounted learned, but only to use it on all occasions ; which the best of all learned men, I mean the philosophers, have delivered to us, though some of them have abused their science, aiming only to be accounted excellent men by the people. Thus have I spoken, my Gunnell, somewhat more of not coveting vain glory in respect of those words in your letter, wherein you say that the high spirit of my daughter Margaret's wit is not to be dejected ; I am of the same opinion, but I think that he dejects his wit who admires vain objects, esteeming the shadow of good things, for want of discretion to judge true from apparent good rather than the truth itself ; and I have not only requested you, dear Gunnell, who of yourself I believe would have done it, neither have I desired my wife alone, but also other friends I have entreated many times, to persuade my children to avoid the gulfs of pride, to walk through the pleasant meadows of modesty ; not to be enamoured of the glitter of gold and silver, nor lament the want of it ; to think none the better of themselves for all their costly trimmings, nor more meanly for the lack of them ; not to lessen their beauty bestowed on them by nature by neglecting it, nor to add to it by artificial means ; to esteem virtue their chief happiness, learning and good qualities the next, of which above all are piety towards God, charity to all men, modesty and Christian humility in themselves, by which they will reap from God the reward of an in nocent life, so that they shall not need to fear death, and meanwhile will not be puffed up with the vain praises of men, nor cast down by slanders and disgrace.

These are the solid fruits of learning, which as I confess belong not to all, but those may yet attain them who study with this intent. It matters not at harvest time whether man or woman sowed the corn, for both are reasonable beings, and therefore I do not see why learning may not equally suit either sex. Reason being thus cultivated and (as a field) sown with wise precepts, it bringeth forth good fruit ; but if the soil of woman's brain be of its own nature bad, and more apt to bear fern than corn, by which saying many terrify women from learning, I am of opinion that woman's wit is the more diligently to be cultivated, to the end that nature's defect may be re dressed by industry ; of which mind were several wise and holy Fathers, St. Jerome and St. Augustine amongst others, who not only exhorted many noble matrons and honourable virgins to love of study, but, to help them, expounded to them difficult portions of Scripture ; and wrote letters to tender maidens, full of so great learning that scarcely our greatest professors of divinity can well read them ; which works, you will endeavour, my dear Gunnell, that my daughters may learn, so that they may know the end they ought to have in study, to place the fruits of their labours in God and a pure conscience, that at peace with themselves they be not moved with flattery nor grieved at the scoffs of the unlearned.

Though I fancy you may reply that though this be true my precepts are too strong and hard for the tender age of my young wenches to listen to, for what man, be he ever so old and learned, is always so constant as not to be elated with the tickling of vain glory ? For myself I consider it so hard to shake from us this plague of pride that we ought the more to endeavour to do it from our very infancy. I think there is no other cause why this mischief doth stick so fast to us, but that it is ingrafted in us even by our nurses as soon as we have crept out of our shells, fostered by our masters, nourished and perfected by our parents, whilst no one pro poseth anything good to children, but they at once bid them expect praise as the reward of virtue, whence they are so used to esteem much of praise, that seeking to please the greater number, who are always the worst, they are ashamed to be good with the few.

And that this plague may be banished from my children, I desire that you, my dear Gunnell, their mother and all their friends, would still sing them this song, hammer it into their heads on every occasion, that vain glory is to be despised nor anything more excellent than the humble modesty so much praised by Christ, which prudent charity will so guide and direct that it will teach us rather to desire virtue than to upbraid others for their vices, and make them rather love those who correct their faults than hate them for their good counsel, to obtain which nothing is more available than to read them the precepts of the Fathers, whom they know not to be angry with themselves, and with whose authority they must be moved because they are venerable for their sanctity. MARGARET AND HER SISTERS.

If, therefore, you will read the works of such to Margaret and Elizabeth, besides their lessons in Sallust, as they, being the eldest, are of riper age, then John and Cicely, you will make both them and me every day more beholden to you ; moreover you will then make my children, dear in the order of nature, more dear for learning, and by their increase in virtue most dear unto me. Farewell. — From the Court, this Whitsun Eve. By the above letter which I have transcribed it will be seen that Sir Thomas's chief care was to make his children virtuous, as well as learned. The following letters were addressed to themselves. Thomas More, to his whole School sendeth greeting. Behold, I have found out a compendious way to salute you all, and make spare of time and paper, which I must needs have wasted in saluting each one of you by name, which would be very super fluous, because you are all so dear to me, some in one way, some in another, that I cannot leave one of you unsaluted.

Yet I know not if there be any better motive why I should love you, than that you are scholars, learning seeming to bind me more closely to you than nearness of blood. If I loved you not exceedingly I should envy your great happiness in having many great scholars for your masters. I hear that Mr. Nicolas is with you, that you have learned much astronomy of him, and have proceeded so far in this science that you know not only the pole-star, the dog, and such like com mon constellations, but also, which argues you as absolute and cun ning astronomers, you know the chief planets themselves, and are able to discern the sun from the moon. Go forward therefore in your new and admirable skill, and whilst you daily admire the stars, I admonish you also to think of this holy fast of Lent, and let the pious song of Boethius sound in your ears, so that your minds may ascend to heaven, lest when the body is lifted up on high the soul be driven down to earth with the brute beasts.

Farewell. — From the Court, this 29th of March. And, in answer to the loving replies of his daughters, came the following. Thomas More, to his best beloved children, and to Margaret Giggs, whom he numbers amongst his own, sendeth greeting. The merchant from Bristol brought me yours the day after he had received them from you, with the which I was extremely delighted, for there can come nothing, though never so rude nor meanly polished, from your workshop, but it yieldeth me more delight than other men's works, be they ever so eloquent, your writing doth so stir up my affection for you. Exclusive of this, your letters also please me well for their own worth, as full of fine wit and pure Latin phrase ; therefore they all please me exceedingly. Yet, to tell you candidly what I think, my son John's letter pleaseth me most, because it was longer than the others, and also he seems to me to have taken more pains than the rest ; he not only pointeth out the matter clearly, and speaketh elegantly, but also playeth pleasantly with me, returning my jests upon me again very wittily, and this not only pleasantly but tem perately withal, showing that he is mindful with whom he jesteth, to wit, his father, whom he endeavours so to delight that he is also afraid to offend.

Hereafter I expect every day letters from each one of you, neither will I accept of such excuses as you complain of, that you had no leisure, or that the carrier went away suddenly, or that you have no matter to write. John is not wont to allege any such things, and nothing can hinder you from writing, but many things should exhort you to it. "Why should you blame the carrier, seeing you may prevent his coming, and have them ready made up and sealed two days before any offer themselves to carry them ? And how can you want matter of writing to me, who am delighted to hear either of your studies or your play, whom you may then please exceedingly, when, having nothing to write of, you write as largely as you can of that nothing, than which nothing is more easy for you to do, especially being women, and therefore prattlers by nature, amongst whom a great story riseth out of nothing.