by Linda Simon
The readers brought theology directly to laymen. They were elected every year by the chancellor and vice-chancellor of the university, and were all doctors, bachelors, or candidates for a degree in theology. For one hour each day they were commissioned to read to anyone, without fee, such works chosen by the school as uplifting and worthy. Each was paid just over £13 per year for his services. The salary was a grand one for the day, more than that of any minister in Cambridge and nearly as much as the whole yearly revenue of the Priory of St. Edmund. But it was Margaret’s belief, and Fisher’s, that such a service was indispensable. Sermons had fallen into disuse in the fifteenth century. Because of the fear of Lollardry, anyone who was not an ordained minister could be subjected to severe penalties for preaching, and the sermon itself took on a pejorative cast. In the countryside, clergy were supposed to preach to their congregations once every three months, but many did not fulfill even that minimum.
The readerships, therefore, were a way of providing direct communication from the Church to the people, under the sanction of the university. The ample remuneration would ensure that preachers of high quality and ability could be enlisted for the task.
Later, since she believed the readerships were a successful endeavor, Margaret established a preachership that paid £10 per year to the Lady Margaret Preachers. These men agreed to preach six sermons each year for three years, including one every second year in London and the rest in towns of Hertfordshire, Cambridgeshire, and Lincolnshire.
From 1505 on, Margaret was a frequent visitor to Cambridge, where private rooms, with a separate oratory overlooking a chapel, were set aside for her above the master’s lodge of Christ’s College. Christ’s College itself owed its existence to Margaret. She had told Fisher that she wanted to found a new college at Cambridge, and he chose Godshouse, located opposite St. Andrew’s Church, which had been founded during the reign of Henry VI. Originally a grammar school, it had grown into a college after a grant from Henry VI of two cottages, some outbuildings, and a garden. Though the king had planned to provide funds to maintain sixty scholars, the revenues were enough to support only a master and four fellows — hardly the community of scholars that Henry had envisioned.
With Margaret’s help, the college was rebuilt and refunded. Now called Christ’s College, it had an endowment large enough to maintain a master, twelve fellows, and forty-seven scholars. With her usual attention to details, Margaret provided also for a nurse to be engaged for the college, for special facilities in which patients could be housed in case of plague, and for the granting of visiting privileges to John Fisher for the duration of his life.
Margaret’s business affairs were not limited to her endowments at Cambridge. As the holder of vast estates, she often was required to enter into contracts, bring suit for herself or her associates, invest her money in businesses, oversee the affairs of her wards. Two letters survive that deal specifically with land contracts, and Margaret showed herself, not surprisingly, to be firm and knowledgeable about her rights. In the first, she writes regarding a land dispute with the heirs of William Paston II. The letter, couched in polite prose, is no less than an ultimatum.
By the Kings Moder
Trusty and right welbeloved, we greet you well. And wher by the meanes of our trusty and right welbeloved Sir Reynold Bray, Sir Thomas Lovell and Sir Henry Heydon, knights, there was a full agreement made and concluded, and also put in writinge, betwen our trusty and right welbeloved Sir John Savile, knight, and Gilbert Talbot, esquier, on th’one partie, and yow on th’other, for divers lands which they ought to have in the right of their wives, daughters and heyers to William Paston, esquier, their late fader deceassed, which lands ye by mighty power kepe and witholde from them without any just title, as they afferme; and albeit the said agrement was made by your minde and consent, yet ye ne doe performe the same, to our merveile if it be so.
Wherefore we desier and also counsell yow without delay upon the sight hereof now shortly to ride to the court to the said arbitrators now ther being, with whom ye shall finde your adverse partie, or other in their names fully authorized, to abide such final ende and conclusion in the premisses as shall be consonant with the said agrement, without further troubles or busines therin herafter to be had; and that ye will thus do in any wise so as we be not driven through your defalte to put to our hands for further remedye to be had in the premisses.
Yeven under our signet at our mannor of Colly Weston the xth day of Februarye.[136]
The second, written later, is as forthright in its demands.
By the Kinges modre
Trusty and welveloved, we grete you wele, and pray you in our name to have the conynve of a bill herin closed in good and deliberate examinacion, and therupon to set such cude and ordinate direction as shalbe consonant to justice, right, and good conscience, so as for lakke therof the partie plaintief have no cause reasounable to pursue furthre unto us in that behalve, as we trust you.
Yeven undere our signet at our manour of Colyweston the xth day of Aprill.
Margaret R.[137]
Like many landowners, she believed that revenues could be collected, and estates run, most efficiently by a centralized staff. Only in Wales did she have difficulty managing the estates, despite the appointment of competent receivers. The Welsh estates were largely those which Margaret was managing for her ward, Edward Stafford, son of the slain duke of Buckingham. Margaret was meticulous in her handling of her ward’s finances and would allow no funds to be wasted. Still, it was often impossible for debts to be collected, and she was forced to write off a deficit of over £2000 once she knew the money would never be forthcoming.
Though business affairs occupied much of her time, her real interest was in scholarship and the religious life. After Margaret’s endowments to Cambridge became known in the academic world, she was entreated to take an interest in Oxford, by far the more prestigious of the two universities. But, though she set up one readership there, she was convinced by Fisher to devote her funds to his alma mater.
*
Margaret Beaufort and John Fisher shared a perception of history that resulted in a deep, untenable sorrow coloring every moment of their lives. Though Margaret’s political scheming had been successful, she did not glory in that success and in the frivolities of the royal court. Instead, she felt constantly that her son’s good fortune was precarious, as was her own, and that she must never pretend that the illusion of grandeur was, indeed, reality. Fisher admitted that he wanted to set an example in “humility, sobriety and contempt of the world,” which well describes the intent of Margaret’s life, as well. Both were highly self-disciplined, in reaction to a world that was lawless, morally chaotic, and politically decadent. The sins they both tried continually to expiate were not only the inherent moral sins of every human being; they were also the sins of their fathers, brothers, cousins — of all around them. Only by living an exemplary life could each justify his own existence.
“Whiles thou are in this life, and whiles thou hast time and space,” Fisher said in one of his sermons, “study to make amends for thy sins. Study to store thy soul by true contrition and sorrow for thy sins. Study here to wash the same often with the gracious water of tears. Study to cleanse thy soul with often renewing confession. Study here by thy good and gracious works to pay thy own debts before thy departure hence.”
Fisher knew the creed of Margaret’s life. Always, she tried to respond to a world that seemed bereft of virtue.
Virtues & good lyving is cleped [called] ypocrisie;
trowthe & godis law is cleped heresie …
trewe prechinge & penaunce is cleped folie.
pride is cleped honeste,
and coveityse wisdom.
richesse is cleped worthynes,
and lecherie kyndely thing,
robberie good wynnynge,
& glotenye but murthe.
envye and wrathe men clepen rightfulness;
slouthe men clepen nedfulnes
&
nbsp; to norshe mennes kynde.
and thus mannes lif that shulde be holi
is turned into cursednes.
rightwisdom is not dred,
and mercy is but scorned …[138]
The violence of the time was odious to both Margaret and John Fisher. They believed that if religion were brought closer to the lives of the commoners, the turbulent atmosphere might be counteracted. Both knew that criminal law was often ignored, and perpetrators of violent crimes were sought after as desirable mercenaries. The continuing wars had made arms more easily available and men more ready to resort to their use. If Margaret’s insistence on leading an exemplary life seems too rigorous, it is necessary only to look at the world she experienced and the alternative she saw as inevitable. Vigilance, she had learned early, was imperative. But one had to look not only over one’s shoulder, but inside the soul.
*
No one was more aware of the seeds of violence than Henry VII. Like Margaret, he believed that livery and maintenance were evil forces that must be obliterated. He took a hard stand against the practices, effecting changes that Henry VI could not and Edward IV would not make. Heavy fines were incurred by any nobleman who paraded his retainers. Informers were encouraged, and offenders were summoned to the king’s Star Chamber to be judged by the chancellor, treasurer, keeper of the privy seal, one bishop, one temporal peer, and two chief judges. Gradually the practices ceased.
Henry could not, however, avoid political threats. In 1491 another pretender to the throne appeared in Ireland. But this young man was taken more seriously than the hapless Simnel. Seventeen-year-old Perkin Warbeck claimed to be Richard, duke of York, the younger son of Edward IV, escaped from the Tower to claim the crown as Richard IV.
For eight years he was to vex Henry as he gained support first from Margaret of Burgundy, the sister of Edward IV, and then from James IV of Scotland. Unlike Simnel, Warbeck was bold in his assertion of birthright and communicated directly with foreign monarchs for their alliance. In September 1493 he wrote to Isabella of Castile, outlining his biography and calling Henry VII a usurper of the throne that was rightfully his. In July 1497 he issued a proclamation that claimed Henry had “by subtle false means” obtained the crown. He called Henry “our extreme, and mortal enemy,” who would try to destroy Warbeck by conspiracy with the nobles. He attacked Henry’s financial policy: “Our said Enemy not regarding the wealth and prosperity of this land, but only the safeguard and surety of his person hath … caused to be conveyed from thence to other places the treasure of this our realm, purposing to depart after in proper person with many other Estates of the Land, being now at his rule and disposition.”[139] Warbeck’s purpose was to rally support among the English, but he eventually failed.
By 1493 Henry had identified the imposter, and within two years had issued attainders against those who he believed supported him. The delay in issuing the attainders may have been caused by the shocking identity of one of the alleged traitors. Sir William Stanley, the king’s uncle, was foremost among those arrested and tried in January 1495. Henry’s loyalty to his stepfather’s brother was destroyed by the facts before him. He was convinced of Stanley’s treachery, as were others who sat in judgment, and Stanley was ordered to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Later, the sentence was commuted to the more lenient beheading, which was enacted on February 16.
Stanley’s actions did not alter the relationship Henry enjoyed with his stepfather, nor did it diminish Thomas Stanley’s standing in the court. Whatever his private feelings, Thomas Stanley apparently remained firmly behind his stepson and his own wife. Margaret, for her part, had seen dissension between brothers explode into political disasters during other reigns. She was not so much shocked as saddened that her son would have to suffer another’s treachery.
Stanley’s death frightened any other Englishmen who might have planned to join Warbeck’s plot, but Henry still had to contend with Yorkist supporters in Scotland and on the continent. Only through diplomacy did Henry manage to achieve a truce with James IV, and Margaret of Burgundy’s aid to the pretender was not sufficient to cause an insurrection. By the end of September 1497, Warbeck surrendered and confessed. Henry did not immediately punish the young man who had caused so much turmoil. But neither did he set him free. Warbeck balked at being a house prisoner. In June 1498 he escaped, was recaptured, and set in stocks for half a day. Then he was transferred to a scaffold, where he stood displayed from ten one morning to three in the afternoon, “excedyngly wondred upon.”[140] But the punishment did not deter him from attempting yet another escape. At the end of the month he jumped from a window and was found the next day seven miles away, hiding in a monastery. Henry could do nothing but arrest him and, in 1499, have him hanged.
John Skelton, the court’s poet laureate, penned a satire about Warbeck.
Of all nacyons under the hevyn,
These frantyke foolys I hate most of all;
In pevyshnes yet they snapper and fall,
Which men the viii dedly syn call.
This punysh proud, thys prendergest [pretender],
When he is well, yet can he not rest.
“Lo, Jak wold be a jentylman!” scoffed Skelton. “Too fat is hys fantsy, hys wyt is too lene.”[141]
Warbeck’s threat was no fantasy to Henry, who was ever aware of the existence of Yorkist supporters in England, Burgundy, and France. Rumors reached him constantly, and as early as 1487 he issued a proclamation against the spreading of false news.
Forasmuch as many of the King our sovereign lord’s subjects be disposed daily to hear feigned, contrived, and forged tidings and tales; and the same tidings and tales, neither dreading God nor his highness, utter and tell again as though they were true, to the great hurt of divers of his subjects and to his grievous displeasure …
The King our sovereign lord straightly chargeth and commandeth that no manner person … utter nor tell any such tidings or tales … upon pain to be set on the pillory, there to stand as long as it shall be thought convenient to the mayor, bailiff, or other officer.[142]
The King’s Bench was made of marble; but, as Henry knew too well, it was a fragile seat.
XI - The House of Mourning
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning;
but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.
ECCLESIASTES 7:4
BY 1496 Henry and Elizabeth had had four children. Three years after Arthur, in 1489, Margaret, named for her grandmother, was born. At fourteen she would be married to James IV of Scotland in a futile attempt to join England in friendship with her northern neighbor. A second son, Henry, was born at Greenwich on June 28, 1491. Another daughter, Mary, followed in March of 1496. In 1499 Edmund was born, named for the king’s father; he lived only into the spring of 1500.
The hopes of the Tudors were vested in Arthur. At his birth, Bernard Andre composed one hundred poems in celebration. Later, the Oxford-educated Andre served as Arthur’s tutor, to be followed by such eminent scholars as Thomas Linacre, the physician and classicist who had studied in Rome and Florence. By the time Arthur was fifteen, besides having studied Latin grammar, he had read some of Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Terence, Cicero, Thucydides, Caesar, Livy, and Tacitus. He was created prince of Wales on November 29, 1489, and as heir to the throne inspired many rumors about his marriage prospects.
If the Tudor family was to survive and retain the crown, as both Margaret Beaufort and her son intensely desired, marriage alliances must be farsighted and careful. Of all such bonds the king hoped to realize for England, that with Spain was most important. Henry followed his predecessors in believing that only if France were surrounded by England’s allies would the threat of war ever be diminished. England’s negotiations with Ferdinand of Aragon and his wife, Isabella of Castile, were to culminate in the marriage of Arthur with their daughter, Catherine of Aragon.
In May 1501, Catherine left her homeland and the domination of her parents to become princess of Wales. To
welcome the young princess, Henry, as his letter to John Past on III indicates, commissioned squires throughout the country to turn out:
By the Kinge
Trusty and welbeloved, we grete yow well, letting yow wete that our derest cousins the Kinge and Queene of Spaine have signified unto us by their sundry letters that the right excellent Princesse, the Lady Katherine ther daughter, shalbe transported from the parties of Spaine aforesaid to this our Realme about the moneth of May next comeinge for the solemnpnization of matrimoney betweene our deerest sonne the Prince and the said Princesse. Wherfore we, consideringe that it is right fittinge and necessarye, aswell for the honour of us as for the lawde and praise of our said Realme, to have the said Princesse honourable received at her arriveall, have appointed you to be amonge others to yeve attendance for the receivinge of the said Princesse; willinge and desiringe yow to prepare your-selfe for that intent, and so to continue in a redynesse upon an houres warninge, till that by our other letters we shall advertise yow of the day and time of her arrivall and where ye shall yeve your said attendance; and not to fayle therein as ye tender our pleasure, the honour of yourselfe, and of this our foresaid Realme.[143]
After a turbulent trip across the sea, the fifteen-year-old princess, who could speak no English and no French, arrived with her attendants at Plymouth, on October 2, 1501. Racked with seasickness and weak after her voyage, she remained at the coast for a month, while gaping Englishmen crowded to see the strangely dressed Spaniards and staged gala festivities in their honor. Not until November 12 did she ride, escorted by royalty, into London for the wedding celebration. The chronicler Hall tantalized his readers with his description of the pageantry.
And because I will not be tedious to you, I passe over the wyse devises, the prudent speches, the costly woorkes, the conninge portratures practised and set foorth in vii goodly beautiful pageauntes erected & set up in diverse places of the citie. I leave also ye goodly ballades, ye swete armony, the Musicall instrumentes, which sounded with heavenly noyes on every side of the strete. I omit farther, the costly apparel both of goldsmythes woorke and embraudery, the ryche jewelles, the massy cheynes, the sturynge horsses, the beautifull bardes and the glitteryng trappers, both with belles and spangles of golde. I pretermit also the ryche apparell of the pryncesse, the straunge fashion of the Spanyshe nacion, the beautie of the Englishe ladyes, the goodly demeanure of the young damosels, the amorous countenaunce of the lusty bachelers. I passe over also the fyne engrayned clothes, the costly furres of the citezens, standynge on skaffoldes, rayed from Grace-churche to Paules. What should I speke of the oderiferous skarlettes, the fyne velvet, the pleasaunt furres, the massye chaynes, which the Mayre of London with the senate, sitting on horsebacke at the little conduyte in Chepe, ware on their bodyes, & about their neckes. I will not molest you with rehersyng the ruche arras, the costly tapestry, the fyne clothes both of golde & silver, the curious velvettes, the beautiful sattens, nor the pleasaunte sylkes, which did hange in every strete where she passed, the wyne that ranne continually out of the conduytes, the graveling and rayling of the stretes nedeth not to be remembered.[144]