Richard Smyth was a physician of dubious merits living and working in Cheapside, whose patients quickly got worse after being treated by him. One, who took medicine prescribed by Smyth as a certain cure, died four days later. Eventually an official complaint against Smyth landed on Cromwell’s desk.27
Nor were private citizens slow to petition Cromwell. Prisoners at Ludgate complained to him about the harsh, unlawful treatment they had to endure at the hands of the prison keeper. He was overcharging for little luxuries like blankets and sheets, taking bribes and keeping alms intended for the prisoners. He would not provide cheap beer, and he refused to attend to prisoners who fell sick. If a prisoner’s wife visiting her husband was a pretty woman, he would ‘labour to fulfil his foul lust’. (From this it sounds as though prison conditions were not all terribly bad in Tudor times.)28
A certain merchant once suffered losses at the hands of French pirates. Unable now to support his wife and nine children, he appealed to Cromwell for help. When a Mr Gostwycke was holding back expenses owed to Robert Barnes, Barnes asked Cromwell to intervene. When John Burton’s wife was ejected from a farm rented from Merton Abbey, and the abbot ignored her husband’s demands for restitution, Burton knew what to do – he wrote to Cromwell for help. However, not all requests came from the needy. William Hawkins of Plymouth was a sea-faring merchant, whose travels may have included Brazil. Needing brass, powder and loans for his ships, the enterprising Hawkins approached Cromwell to ask whether government funding might be available.29
Richard Manchester, once chaplain of Sir John Russell, complained to Cromwell alleging false imprisonment due to the malicious accusations of one Mr Moore. A learned, if somewhat conceited man, Manchester’s letter recalled Synon and the Trojan horse, before likening himself to Cassandra, who prophesied truly but was not believed. Manchester begged Cromwell’s help and understanding. Moore, he alleged, was a deceitful character, and had tricked even Wriothesley, one of Cromwell’s staff, into believing his mischievous tales. Soon after this for reasons not stated Moore found himself in trouble with the authorities, and Cromwell received another begging letter, this time from Moore’s wife pleading for his freedom. Several other examples could be given of letters to Cromwell from people claiming wrongful imprisonment.30
Overseas visitors to England as well as the king’s subjects enjoyed Cromwell’s patronage and protection. François Regnault was a French bookseller who had lived in England for several years, but he began to fear that English booksellers wanted to stop him printing and distributing here. He wrote to Cromwell, in French, asking for help, and for permission to carry on his trade. Regnault may have been a man of evangelical sympathies, because he later played host to Coverdale and Grafton during their visit to Paris to print the Great Bible (see Chapter 14).31
Cromwell’s responsibilities also extended to the king’s lands and livestock. Sir Edward Croft enjoyed lands as a gift from Henry, and one of his privileges was to have a deer in summer and winter. Then one day Geoffrey Blount, Keeper of the King’s forest of Wyre, abruptly and without any explanation, told Croft that he would not be allowed any more deer. Croft was outraged; in his opinion this was a subject worth bringing to Cromwell’s notice.32
Inevitably matters concerning religion and the church were referred to Cromwell, not least by eager beaver evangelicals seldom slow to offer the Vicegerent some advice. Around August 1534, an anonymous draft called for an end to clerical celibacy, veneration of images and prayers for the dead. A little later, another anonymous writer to an anonymous recipient, though probably to Cromwell, suggested an act of parliament to establish evangelical articles of faith: that Christ was the sole Mediator between God and man; that ‘the blood of Christ sufficeth to man’s redemption without the blood of martyrs’; that purgatory was a popish myth; that it is more charitable to pray for the living than the dead; that God alone can forgive sin; and that images should not be worshipped. This writer, a man with more zeal than sense, seemed blissfully unaware that Cromwell had to spread the Word discreetly; there was not the remotest chance of securing legislation on these subjects so soon.33
Further Lutheranesque proposals were sent to Cromwell from John Rastell, brother-in-law of Thomas More, though whether by invitation is not stated – probably not. Another evangelical, Thomas Mereall, was accused of heresy, and at his trial he noticed servants of the bishop of London on the jury. He knew exactly what to do – he dashed off a letter to Cromwell.34
Evangelical strategist though he was, Cromwell might have done better without the likes of Richard Quiaenus, who took it upon himself, apparently without any calling or permission, to preach justification by faith at a church in Stamford. On leaving the church he was set on by a group of Dominicans, strenuously averring that justification could never be attained without good works. Quiaenus asked for Cromwell’s help, and provided some local information. A nearby abbot, in the service of the bishop of Lincoln, had attacked those carrying the New Testament. Quiaenus demanded that the Gospel be set forth everywhere, including brothels. He had also been involved in a row with the abbot regarding images and the mediatorial role of Mary and the saints. He was afraid of his bishop, but claimed many witnesses could vouch for his good character.35
Details of family disputes and even marriage rows demanded Cromwell’s attention. Soon after Maud Knevet was widowed in 1526, she secretly married Master Knevet of the King’s Privy Chamber; but for reasons not stated he did not treat her as his lawful wife, so she married a fellow called Smythe. Knevet’s jealously was kindled, and he summoned her to appear before Wolsey, who commanded her to divorce Smythe. She obeyed, and ‘re-married’ Knevet. After living together as man and wife for eight years, Master Knevet now denied that Maud was his lawful wife; exact reasons are not given, but there is a hint that money was involved. Whatever the facts, Maud begged Cromwell to compel Knevet to acknowledge her as his wife so she could keep a good living.36
Less intricate, but still faintly bizarre, was the case of Thomas Barton who had married a divorcee. The divorce decree had been approved by the Archbishop of York, but he was now re-considering the matter, prompting an anxious Barton to urge Cromwell to intervene. Then there was Godfrey Somersall, who, apart from having an affair with a married woman, was also maltreating his own wife, Anne, despite a warning from the local justice to behave. A friend of Anne’s, William Assherby, fearing that local authorities were remiss in settling the matter, appealed to Cromwell to come to the aid of the cheated wife.37
Tudor women were not slow to turn directly to Cromwell for help in time of need. Elizabeth Burgh (Borough) was delivered of a son sometime in late 1537. It was a premature birth, and the relieved mother was convinced that only the power of God had saved the child’s life. However, her tyrannical father-in-law Lord Burgh now claimed that his son, her husband, Sir Thomas Burgh was not the true father. Because her husband was scared of his father, she begged Cromwell to intercede and help, chiefly for the child’s sake in case he was unjustly disinherited. Cromwell dealt with her appeal sympathetically, but as so often in these cases the trail quickly goes cold and the outcome is not known.38
Agnes Awstyd’s husband was detained falsely for no better reason, so she claimed, than having once done a kindness to a man subsequently condemned to death. She begged Cromwell to secure his release. Ellen Wryne appealed on behalf of her son, John, prevented by the local mayor and sheriffs from doing his job as recorder, even though Cromwell had approved the appointment. They were only angry, she maintained, because her husband once complained to Cromwell about them for robbing a ship. Thomas Martin, a London merchant, had been pursuing a law suit in Poland for fifteen years to recover a large sum owed to him. The affair had dragged through four courts, and had even come to the attention of the King of Poland. Currently it was in the hands of Polish councillors. Impatient with all the delays, Martin’s wife took matters into her own hands and wrote to Cromwell asking him if he would expedite the case.39
Word must have spread that Cromwell dealt understandingly with women in distress. Elizabeth Constable was a rejected wife with no one to support her. Appealing to Cromwell’s kindness, she was, she pleaded, ashamed to beg or play the harlot. Margaret Lyle was deserted by her family for being a loose-living woman; undaunted she turned to Cromwell, urging his intercession to get her an honest living somehow, somewhere. Nor was Alice Parker, a former servant of Cromwell’s, afraid to ask her former master’s help when two other servants refused to pay money owing to her.40
Especially noteworthy are letters from widows. Katherine Torner and her late husband had lived on land belonging to a Mr Barton for fifty-six years; but following her husband’s death, Barton allegedly took away their cattle and stopped her servants bringing in the hay. The distressed widow wrote to Cromwell – would he please help her, and tell Barton to stop harassing her. Dame Elizabeth Whettyl and the marchioness of Dorset, both widows suffering from ungrateful sons, wrote to Cromwell for succour and support. In Dame Elizabeth’s case – her son refused to honour his late father’s will and provide for his mother – it can be said for certain that the outcome was a happy one, because she subsequently sent Cromwell a letter warmly thanking him for his goodness.41
Katherine Audelett, another widow, complained to Cromwell about one Harry Huttoft, who was delaying a settlement due to her. Huttoft received a sharp rebuke from Cromwell, so presumably this one ended agreeably as well. Sometime later the same lady reported a case of assault to Cromwell. Perhaps she received no satisfaction from the local justice – she does not give a reason – but obviously she knew where to go in time of need. So did the widow of Sir Robert Lee, Lettys Lee, when burdened with various legal wrangles and uncertainties following her husband’s death. Finding the law confusing, and suspicious of the motives of greedy lawyers, she sought Cromwell’s advice. She, too, was successful and well provided for. Another petitioner was Ellen Ewer, whose husband had been executed (the crime is not stated) and was left penniless because the recorder would not provide her with her husband’s money to which she was entitled. The recorder claimed that Ewer’s imprisonment had cost him 40s, but the widow begged Cromwell’s intervention; she assured him that the figure was only 16d, and she could prove it.42
Let the last word on this most ruthless and notorious Tudor tyrant go to Mawde Carew, widow of Sir Richard, father of Nicholas. Cromwell had gone to some trouble on her behalf after thieves had robbed or defrauded her of her savings. For this she poured out her gratitude for ‘your great pains taken about the redress of my great late losses’. Now a frail old lady and nearly blind, she felt ‘most bounden to’ him; she begged God to ‘prosper and continue your good lordship, for the comfort of all poor widows’.43
Notes
1. Merriman 1, pp. 175–6; Elton, Policy, pp. 305, 307.
2. LP 14 (2), no. 49; Wright, pp. 255–61; Kaulek, pp. 140, 145 = LP 14 (2), nos 389, 613.
3. Elton, Policy, 293–326.
4. Taken from the analysis in Elton, Policy, pp. 387–93.
5. Elton, Policy, pp. 331–43, 380–82.
6. Elton, Policy, pp. 340–51. On Smeaton, see chap. 8
7. Elton, Policy, pp. 353–4, 375–80; Sermons and Remains of Latimer, ed. G.E. Corrie (Cambridge, 1845), p. 383.
8. Elton, Policy, pp. 18, 31–4, 58–65.
9. Merriman 1, pp. 360–61; Elton Policy, p. 19.
10. Ellis 11, pp. 63–7. For a summary of the History of Florence, see Q. Skinner, Machiavelli, (Oxford, 1981), pp. 78–88.
11. Merriman 1, pp. 85–7, 203; T. Mayer, Reginald Pole, Prince and Prophet (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 99–100; For more scepticism about Pole’s story, see Elton, Tudor Rev., pp. 73–4; A.G. Dickens , Thomas Cromwell and the English Reformation (London, 1959), pp. 76–7. On Morison, see F. Raab, The English Face of Machiavelli: A changing interpretation, 1500–1700 (London, 1964), pp. 34–40.
12. From N. Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. G. Bull (Penguin, 1999).
13. The Prince, pp. 38–9.
14. The Prince, pp. 51–6.
15. The Prince, pp. 56–8.
16. The Prince, pp. 65, 71–7.
17. The Prince, pp. 79–83.
18. Skinner, Machiavelli, pp. 61–4.
19. Skinner, Machiavelli, pp. 8–14.
20. G.R. Elton, ‘How Corrupt was Thomas Cromwell?’, HJ 36/4 (1993): 905–8; Merriman 2, pp. 31–2, 49.
21. M.L. Robertson, ‘The Art of the Possible: Thomas Cromwell’s Management of West Country Government’, HJ 32/4 (1989): 793–816.
22. Merriman 1, pp. 385–96; 2, pp. 37–9.
23. LP 6, no. 1663; 8, no. 32; LP 9, no. 317; LP 10, no. 1180.
24. LP 10, nos 1267, 1276; LP 11, no. 1466; LP 14 (1), no. 334; LP 14 (2), App. 7, p. 360.
25. LP 15, no. 318.
26. LP 15, no. 1029 (43).
27. LP 15, no. 1029 (62).
28. LP 6, no. 1414.
29. LP 10, no. 1185; LP 11, nos 1441, 1449, 1452, 1461.
30. LP 11, nos 1470–72.
31. LP 11, no. 1488.
32. LP 12 (1), no. 928.
33. LP 7, nos 1043, 1383. On the likelihood of Cromwell being the receiver, see discussion in S. Lehmberg, The Reformation Parliament: 1529–1536 (Cambridge, 1977), p. 215.
34. LP 7, nos 1071, 1073; LP 15, no. 1029 (47).
35. LP 9, no. 611.
36. LP 11, no. 1467.
37. LP 13 (2), no. 1038; LP 15, no. 1029 (13).
38. LP 12 (2), nos 1073–4, 1153, 1159; LP 13 (1), no. 311.
39. LP 11, nos 1445, 1474, 1497.
40. LP 12 (2), no, 1327; LP 15, no. 1029 (44, 55).
41. LP 9, no. 1161; LP 12 (1), no. 985; LP 12 (2), nos 1037–8; LP 13 (2), no. 1237.
42. LP 13 (1), no. 662; LP 14 (1), nos 223, 387–8, 1051; LP 14 (2), App. 53, p. 371; LP 15, no. 1029 (22).
43. PRO SP 1/155, fol. 10 = LP 14 (2), no. 556.
13
Patron and Persona
An illustration of the renaissance humanist passion for the past is that Tudor men deemed worthy of high praise were wont to be likened to some towering figure of the classical age. Gabriel Harvey, the Elizabethan writer, was greatly impressed by Cromwell’s ‘natural heroic audacity’ and ‘pragmatic experience’. Harvey admired self-made statesmen of humble birth ‘like Marius, especially Caesar, and in our time, Cromwell’. These, he judged, were far better motivated and equipped than academics, thinkers or intellectuals to turn fine ideas into real, substantial benefits. Others likened Cromwell to Maecenas, chief councillor to Augustus and patron of the Roman arts.1
With men from a lowly background, it is often the case that their unprivileged background spurs them on to attain heights beyond the reach of more fortunate people. Thomas Cromwell was one such man.
Encouraged by his foreign travels, he was able to develop his natural aptitude for languages to become the most proficient linguist in Henry’s government. Chapuys testified to Cromwell’s ability to read and speak French, Latin and Italian fluently. Cromwell retained a particular love of the Italian tongue. Frequently he received letters in Italian from contacts abroad, some of them agents of his. When time permitted he enjoyed reading Italian works like the Triumphs of Petrarch, Il Cortegiano, a book on Venetian society and diverse Italian verses.2
Chapuys does not mention it, but on the evidence of letters sent to him, Cromwell must have been competent in Spanish as well. Catherine of Aragon’s letter to him was written in Spanish as we saw here. Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoça, an envoy from Charles V to England and a colleague of Chapuys, wrote to Cromwell in Spanish about diplomatic affairs. So, too, did an Englishman on official government business in Spain, presumably wanting to practice his Spanish with a fellow countryman who also knew the language. These letters are quite detailed and informative, obviously not intended for beginners. Maybe Cromwell’s youthful foreign travels included parts o
f Spain.3
It was Cromwell’s mortal enemy, Stephen Gardiner, who, perhaps without intending to, left liberal testimony to Cromwell’s knowledge of classical languages. In Edward’s reign, when Gardiner’s fortunes had fallen somewhat, he recalled how Cromwell was habitually ‘very stout towards me … for that conceit he had, what so ever he talked with me, he knew ever as much as I, Greek or Latin, and all’.4
Cromwell once translated Gardiner’s minutes of a meeting with the king from English to Latin. Whatever the reason – it may have been a favour before the rivalry set in – the task was completed to the bishop’s satisfaction. However, whilst it was unremarkable for a Tudor minister to be competent in Latin, similar accomplishment in Greek was rare. Gardiner was the last man in the world to put in an undeserved good word for Cromwell, which is what makes this hostile witness so compelling. Gardiner was no mean scholar himself. He described with satisfaction how, in June 1535, he completed his translation of the Gospels of Luke and John. Elsewhere Gardiner’s letters contain references to, or Greek quotes taken from, Euripides, Gregory of Nazianen, Plato and Aristotle. After Cromwell’s death, Gardiner engaged in lengthy scholarly discussions with Sir John Cheke, Regius Professor of Greek at Cambridge and tutor to Prince Edward, on various aspects of Greek including the right pronunciation.5
It is possible that Cromwell had set foot in Greece during his days as a youthful wanderer – the distance by sea from southern Italy is not great. Alternatively, and more plausibly perhaps, he could have built up his knowledge of Greek steadily over the years since settling in England as part of his interest in the humanities.
How well he knew the other Biblical language is less certain. In 1529 Stephen Vaughan, in Flanders, was intending to buy a dining table for himself or for Cromwell, and on its borders were Scripture texts in Hebrew, Greek and Latin. This is not enough to prove that Cromwell knew Hebrew well, though he may have had some rudimentary knowledge of it.6
The Rise and Fall of Thomas Cromwell Page 32