CHAP. south, being very loath to abandon their native country, their parents, wives, and children."* XXIX. A. D. 1530. His instal. lation as appointed. Wolsey, notwithstanding his reduced fortune, had still a train of 160 persons, and twelve carts to carry his baggage. He made short stages, sleeping at different religious houses, where he was hospitably entertained. On Maundy Thursday, being at the abbey of Peterborough, he washed, wiped, and kissed the feet of fifty-nine beggars, on whom he bestowed liberal alms. Having paid a visit to Sir William Fitzwilliam, a wealthy knight of that country, he spent the summer and autumn at Southwell, Scroby, and Cawood Castle, near York,-acquiring immense popularity by his condescension, his kindness, his hospitality, and his piety. "He set an example to all church dignitaries, a right good example how they might win men's hearts." On Sundays and holidays he rode to some country church, celebrated mass himself, ordered one of his chaplains to preach to the people, and distributed alms to the poor. He spent much of his time in adjusting differences in families and between neighbours. His table, plentifully but not extravagantly supplied, was open to all the gentry of the country, and he gave employment to hundreds of workmen in repairing the houses and churches belonging to his see. † Wolsey had appointed his installation as Archbishop to take place in York Minster on the 7th of November, and Archbishop preparations were made to perform the ceremony with great pomp and magnificence. Presents of game and other provisions poured in from all quarters for the entertainment he was that day to give, and on the morrow he had agreed to dine with the Lord Mayor of York, when the greatest efforts were to be made to do him honour. But before the time arrived he was a prisoner on a charge of high treason, and he had sustained a mental shock which soon brought him to his grave. Alarm at Court from his popularity. Henry, who had recommended to the northern nobility to be courteous to Wolsey, was not a little startled when he heard of the following which the Cardinal now had, inde XXIX. pendently of the royal favour. The courtiers were still more CHAP. astounded, and the "night crow," as he styled Anne Boleyn, uttered notes of fear. The divorce-suit was still dragging on, and there seemed no chance of bringing it to a favourable conclusion without a rupture with the Court of Rome, which Wolsey might very seriously have impeded. rested for On Friday the 4th of November, about noon, when the He is arCardinal was sitting at dinner in his hall with his officers, high suddenly entered the Earl of Northumberland, who had been treason. his page, and whom he had divorced from Anne Boleyn. Wolsey apologised to him that dinner was nearly over, and seeing him attended by the old servants of the family, said: "Ah, my Lord, I perceive well that ye have observed my old precepts and instructions which I gave you when you were abiding with me in your youth,-to cherish your father's old servants, whereof I see here present with you a great number. They will live and die with you, and be true and faithful servants to you, and glad to see you prosper in honour, the which I beseech God to send you with long life." The Cardinal then conducted the Earl to a chamber where, no one else being present but Cavendish himself, who kept the door as gentleman-usher," the Earl, trembling, said with a very faint soft voice unto my Lord (laying his hand upon his arm),- My Lord, I arrest you of high treason.” He refused to submit without seeing the warrant, which was refused; but he surrendered to Walshe, a privy councillor, who he admitted had authority to arrest him by virtue of his office. When he had a moment's time to recover from the stupor His behacaused by this blow, he wept bitterly,-more for the sake of viour. others than himself. He particularly lamented the fate of Cavendish, about to be thrown destitute on the wide world, "who," quoth he "hath abandoned his own country, his wife and children, his house and family, his rest and quietness, only to serve me." At the next meal he summoned firmness to appear in the hall; but "there was not a dry eye among all the gentlemen sitting at table with him." The particular charge to be brought against Wolsey has never been ascertained; the general opinion is, that Henry CHAP. XXIX. He is carried off had been induced to believe that he was carrying on some clandestine correspondence of a suspicious nature with the Court of France, and that Augustine, a Venetian in his service, had given some false information against him.* The next day after his arrest, he was committed to the a prisoner. special custody of five of his domestics, and sent off under the escort of the Earl of Northumberland's train towards London. But the population of the adjoining country, hearing of his misfortune, met him by thousands as he journeyed on, calling out with a loud voice, "God save your Grace, God save your Grace. The foul evil take all them that have thus taken you from us! We pray God that a very vengeance may light upon them." They afterwards obliged him to travel in the night time to escape public notice. He expressed great regret for the loss of a sealed parcel he had left behind him at Cawood. This being sent for was found to contain hair shirts, one of which he now always wore next his skin. The first night he was lodged in the abbey at Pontefract. In journeying thither he expressed great apprehension lest his destination should be Pontefract Castle, where so many had suffered violently; and he said, "Shall I go to the His stay at Castle, and die like a beast?" On the Thursday he reached Sheffield Park. His alarm at prophecy that he should die near King ston. Sheffield Park, where he was eighteen days very kindly entertained by the Earl of Shrewsbury till orders should be received from Court for his ulterior destination. 66 At the end of this time arrived Sir William Kingston, Keeper of the Tower, with a guard of twenty-four beef-eaters to conduct him to London. When the name of this officer was mentioned to him," Master Kingston!" quoth he, rehearsing his name once or twice; and with that clapped his hand on his thigh, and gave a great sigh." He no doubt then recollected the prophecy by some fortunetellers, respecting which Cavendish is silent, but which is mentioned by Fuller and other writers, that he should have A few days before, the silver cross of York standing in the hall, was upset by the velvet robe of the Venetian, which at the moment Wolsey said was malum omen. his end near Kingston. This had induced him always to make a wide circuit to avoid Kingston-on-Thames when he approached that town, and the emotion he now displayed is accounted for by his anticipation that he was about to finish his career on Tower Hill, in the custody of Kingston, "too late perceiving himself deceived by the father of lies."* CHAP. XXIX. For some days he was afflicted with a dysentery; but, as His illness. soon as he was able to travel he set forward for London, although so much reduced in strength, that he could hardly support himself on his mule. When his servants saw him in such a lamentable plight, they expressed their pity for him with weeping eyes; but he took them by the hand as he rode, and kindly conversed with them. In the evening of the third day, after dark, he arrived with difficulty at the Abbey of Leicester. The Abbot and Monks met him at the gates, with many torches. As he entered he said, "Father Abbot, I am come to lay my bones among you." Arrives at Leicester, 26th Nov. 1529. He was immediately carried to his chamber, and put into a Prophesies bed, from which he never rose. This was on Saturday night, the hour of had confessed to a and on Monday he foretold to his servants, "that by eight of his death. XXIX. CHAP. the weighty matter yet depending*; then shall his conscience declare, whether I have offended him or no. He is a sure prince, of a royal courage, and hath a princely heart; and rather than he will either miss, or want any part of his will or appetite, he will put the loss of one half of his realm in danger. For, I assure you, I have often kneeled before him in his Privy Chamber, on my knees, the space of an hour or two, to persuade him from his will and appetite; but I could never bring to pass to dissuade him therefrom. Therefore, Master Kingston, if it chance hereafter you to be one of his Privy Council, as for your wisdom and other qualities ye are meet to be, I warn you to be well advised and assured what matter ye put in his head, for ye shall never put it out again." After a strong admonition to the King to suppress the Lutheran heresy, he thus concluded: "Master Kingston, farewell. I can no more but wish all things to have good success. My time draweth on fast. I may not tarry with you. And forget not, I pray you, what I have said and charged you withal; for, when I am dead, ye shall, peradventure, remember my words much better."† Nov. 29. 1529. He dies. His burial. He was then annealed by the Father Abbot; and, as the great Abbey clock struck eight, he expired-" KINGSTON" standing by his bed-side. His body was immediately laid in a coffin, dressed in his pontificals, with mitre, crosses, ring, and pall; and, lying there all day open and barefaced, was viewed by the Mayor of Leicester and the surrounding gentry, that there might be no suspicion as to the manner of his death. It was then carried into the Lady Chapel, and watched, with many torches, all night;—whilst the monks sung dirges and other devout orisons. At six in the morning mass was celebrated for his soul; and as they committed the body of the proud Cardinal to its last abode, the words were chanted, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!" No stone was erected to his memory; and the spot of his interment is unknown. "Here is the end and fall of pride and arrogancy." ‡ *The divorce. † Cav. 392. Ibid. 394. |