<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_X"></SPAN>CHAPTER X<br/> <span class="subhead">1549-1550</span> <span class="subhead">The Protector’s position—Disaffection in the country—Its causes—The Duke’s arrogance—Warwick his rival—The success of his opponents—Placed in the Tower, but released—St. George’s Day at Court.</span></h2></div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap1">The</span> Protector’s conduct with regard to his
brother does much to alienate sympathy from
him in his approaching fall, in a sense the consequence
and outcome of the fratricide. He “had
sealed his doom the day on which he signed the
warrant for the execution of his brother.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">96</SPAN> If
the Admiral, having crossed his will, was not safe,
who could believe himself to be so? Yet the fashion
of the accomplishing of his downfall, the treachery and
deception practised towards him by men upon whom
he might fairly have believed himself able to count,
lend a pathos to the end it might otherwise have
lacked.</p>
<p>For the present his power and position showed
no signs of diminution. The Queen, his wife’s
rival, was dead. The Admiral, who had dared to
measure his strength against his brother’s, would<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127">127</SPAN></span>
trouble him no more, unless as an unquiet ghost,
an unwelcome visitant confronting him in unexpected
places. During his Protectorate he had
added property to property, field to field, and
was the master of two hundred manors. If
the public finances were low, Somerset was rich,
and during this year the building of the house
destined to bear his name was carried on on a
scale of splendour proportionate to his pretensions.
Having thrown away the chief prop of his house,
says Heylyn, he hoped to repair the ruin by erecting
a magnificent palace.</p>
<p>The site he had chosen was occupied by three
episcopal mansions and one parish church; but it
would have been a bold man who would have disputed
the will of the all-powerful Lord Protector,
and the owners submitted meekly to be dispossessed
in order to make room for his new abode. Materials
running short, there were rough-and-ready ways
of providing them conveniently near at hand; and
certain “superstitious buildings” close to St. Paul’s,
including one or two chapels and a “fair charnel-house”
were demolished to supply what was necessary,
the bones of the displaced dead being left to
find burial in the adjacent fields, or where they might.
As the great pile rose, more was required, and
St. Margaret’s, Westminster, was to have been
destroyed to furnish it, had not the people, less
subservient than the Bishops, risen to protect their<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128">128</SPAN></span>
church, and forcibly driven away the labourers
charged with the work of destruction. St. Margaret’s
was saved, but St. John’s of Jerusalem, not
far from Smithfield, was sacrificed in its stead, being
blown up with gunpowder in order that its stone-work
might be turned to account.</p>
<p>The Protector pursued his way unconscious of
danger. The Earl of Warwick, his future supplanter,
looked on and bided his time. The condition of
the country had become such as to facilitate the
designs of those bent upon a change in the Government.
Into the course of public affairs, at home
and abroad, it is impossible to enter at length; a
brief summary will suffice to show that events
were tending to create discontent and to strengthen
the hands of Somerset’s enemies.</p>
<p>The victory of Pinkie Cleugh, though gratifying
to national pride, had in nowise served the purpose
of terminating the war with Scotland. Renewed
with varying success, the Scots, by means of French
aid, had upon the whole improved their position,
and the hopes indulged in England of a union
between the two countries, to be peacefully effected
by the marriage of the King with the infant Mary
Stuart, had been disappointed, the little Queen
having been sent to France and affianced to the
Dauphin. In the distress prevailing amongst
the working classes of England, more pressing
cause for dissatisfaction and agitation was found.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129">129</SPAN></span>
Partly the result of the depreciation of the currency
during the late reign, it was also due to the action
of the new owners who, enriched by ecclesiastical
property, had enclosed portions of Church lands
heretofore left open to be utilised by the labourers
for their personal profit. Pasturage was increasing
in favour compared with tillage; less labour was
required, and wages had in consequence fallen.</p>
<p>To material ills and privations, other grievances
were added. Associated in the minds of the people
with their condition of want were the changes lately
enforced in the sphere of religion. The new ministers
were often ignorant men, who gave scandal by
their manner of life, their parishioners frequently
making complaints of them to the Bishops.</p>
<p>“Our curate is naught,” they would say, “an
ass-head, a dodipot [?], a lack-latin, and can do
nothing. Shall I pay him tithe that doth us no
good, nor none will do?”<SPAN name="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">97</SPAN></p>
<p>In some cases the fault lay with patrons, who
preferred to select a man unlikely to assert his
authority. Economy on the part of the Government
was responsible for other unfit appointments,
and capable Churchmen being permitted to hold
secular offices, they were removed from their parishes
and their flocks were left unshepherded. Against
this practice Latimer protested in a sermon at St.
Paul’s, on the occasion of a clergyman having been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130">130</SPAN></span>
made Comptroller of the Mint. Who controlled
the devil at home in his parish, asked the rough-tongued
preacher, whilst he controlled the Mint?</p>
<p>The condition of things thus produced was not
calculated to commend the innovations it accompanied
to the people, and the introduction of the
new Prayer-book was in particular bitterly resented
in country districts. In many parts of England,
interest and religion joining hands, fierce insurrections
broke out, and the measures taken by “the
good Duke” to allay popular irritation, by ordering
that the lands newly enclosed should be re-opened,
had the double effect of stirring the people, thus
far successful, to yet more strenuous action in
vindication of their rights, and of increasing the dislike
and distrust with which his irresponsible exercise
of authority was regarded by the upper classes.</p>
<p>Upon domestic troubles—Ket’s rebellion in Norfolk,
one of large dimensions in the west, and
others—followed a declaration of war with France,
certain successes on the part of the enemy serving
to discredit the Protector and his management of
affairs still further.</p>
<p>Whilst rich and poor were alike disaffected in
the country at large, the Duke had become an
object of jealousy to the members of the Council
Board who were responsible for having placed
him in the position he occupied. To a man with
the sagacity to look ahead and take account of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131">131</SPAN></span>
forces at work, it must have been plain that the
possession of absolute and undivided power on the
part of a subject was necessarily fraught with danger,
and that the Duke’s astonishing success in obtaining
the patent conferring upon him supreme
and regal authority contained in itself the seed and
prophecy of ruin. But, besides more serious causes
of offence, his bearing in the Council-chamber, far
from being adapted to conciliate opposition, further
exasperated his colleagues against him. Cranmer
and Paget were the last to abandon his cause, but
on May 8—not two months after his brother’s
execution—the latter wrote to give him frank
warning of the probable consequences of his “great
cholerick fashions.” It is evident that a stormy
scene had taken place that afternoon, and that Paget
must have been strongly convinced of the need
for interference before he addressed his remonstrance
to the despotic head of the Government.</p>
<p>“Poor Sir Richard a Lee,” he wrote, “this afternoon,
after your Grace had very sore, and much
more than needed, rebuked him, came to my chamber
weeping, and there complaining, as far as became
him, of your handling of him, seemed almost out of
wits and out of heart. Your Grace had put him
clean out of countenance.” After which he proceeded
to warn the Duke solemnly, “for the very love he
bore him,” of the consequences should he not change
his manner of conduct.<SPAN name="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">98</SPAN></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132">132</SPAN></span>
Paget’s love was quickly to grow cold. During
the summer the various rebellions in different parts
of the country were suppressed, the Earl of Warwick
playing an important part in the operations. On September
25 the Protector was, to all appearance, still
in fulness of power and authority. By October 13
he was in the Tower.</p>
<p>The Spanish spectator again supplies an account
of the view taken by the man in the street of
the initiation of the quarrel which led to the
Duke’s disgrace and fall. Returned to London,
Warwick, accompanied by the captains, English
and foreign, who had served under him against
the rebels, is said to have come to Court to
demand for his soldiers the rewards he considered
their due. Met by a refusal on the part of the
Protector of anything over and above their ordinary
wages, his indignation found vent. If money was
not to be had, it was because of the sums squandered
by the Duke in building his own palace. The French
forts were already lost. If the Protector continued
in power he would end by losing everything.</p>
<div id="ip_132" class="figcenter" style="width: 456px;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_132.jpg" width-obs="456" height-obs="600" alt="" />
<p class="p0 in0 smaller">From a photo by Emery Walker after a painting in the National Portrait Gallery.</p>
<div class="caption"><p>WILLIAM, LORD PAGET, K.G.</p>
</div>
</div>
<p>Somerset replied with no less heat. He deserved,
he said, that Warwick should speak as he had spoken,
by the favour he had shown him. Warwick
having retorted that it was with himself and his
colleagues that the fault lay, since they had bestowed
so much power on the Protector, the two parted.
Of what followed Holinshed gives a description.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133">133</SPAN></span>
“Suddenly, upon what occasion many marvelled
but few knew, every lord and councillor went
through the city weaponed, and had their servants
likewise weaponed ... to the great wondering of
many; and at the last a great assembly of the said
Council was made at the Earl of Warwick’s lodging,
which was then at Ely Place, in Holborn, whither all
the confederates came privily armed, and finally
concluded to possess the Tower of London.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">99</SPAN></p>
<p>As a counterblast, Somerset issued a proclamation
in the King’s name, summoning all his subjects to
Hampton Court for his defence and that of his “most
entirely beloved uncle.” Open war was declared.</p>
<p>So far the Archbishop and Paget, both resident
with the Court, together with the two Secretaries,
had adhered to the Protector. Upon Cranmer, if
upon any one, Somerset, who had done more than
any other person to establish religion upon its new
basis, should have been able to count, if not for
support, for a loyal opposition. But fear is strong
and—again it must be repeated—fidelity to the
unfortunate was no feature of the times; and by
both Archbishop and Paget the cause of the falling
man was abandoned. Not only did they secretly
embrace the cause of the party headed by Warwick,
but private directions were furnished by Paget as to
the means to be employed in seizing the person of
the Duke.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134">134</SPAN></span>
Meantime, Hampton Court being judged insufficiently
secure, Somerset, with a guard of five hundred
men, had removed the King, at dead of night, to
Windsor, a graphic account of the journey being
given by the chronicler.</p>
<p>“As he went along the road the King was all
armed, and carried his little sword drawn, and kept
saying to the people on the way:</p>
<p>“‘My vassals, will you help me against the people
who want to kill me?’</p>
<p>“And everybody cried out, ‘Sir, we will all die for
you.’”<SPAN name="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">100</SPAN></p>
<p>Windsor reached, the defence of the Castle and
of the sovereign was wisely entrusted, in the first
instance, to men upon whom the Duke could depend.
But the Council was successful in lulling any
apprehensions of violent action to rest. Sir Philip
Hoby, according to some authorities,<SPAN name="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">101</SPAN> was despatched
from London with open, as well as secret, letters,
wherein it was declared that no harm was intended
to the Duke; order was merely to be taken for
the Protectorship. Somerset had by this time
yielded so far to the forces arrayed against him as
to recognise the necessity of consenting to some
change in the government; and at the reassuring
terms of the communication all present gave way to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135">135</SPAN></span>
emotion; wept with joy, after the fashion of the
times; thanked God, and prayed for the Lords;
Paget, in particular, clasping the Duke about the
knees, and crying with tears, “O my Lord, ye see
what my lords be!”</p>
<p>The Protector’s ruin had been assured. Trusting
to the declarations of the Council, he fell
an easy prey into their hands. Yielding to the
representations of Cranmer and Paget, to whose
“diligent travail” his enemies gratefully ascribed
their success, he permitted his trusty followers to be
replaced in the defence of the Castle by the usual
royal guard; on October 11 he had been seized and
placed in safe keeping, and it was reported that the
King had a bad cold, and “much desireth to be hence,
saying that ‘Methinks I am in prison. Here be no
galleries nor no gardens to walk in.’”<SPAN name="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">102</SPAN> The young
sovereign had also, with a merry countenance and a
loud voice, asked how their Lordships of the Council
were, and when he would see them, saying that they
should be welcome whensoever they came.</p>
<p>It was plain that objections to a transference of
his guardianship were not to be expected from the
nephew of the Lord Protector, and the Duke was
removed from Windsor to the Tower, followed by
three hundred lords and gentlemen, “as if he had
been a captive carried in triumph.” It would,
however, have been more difficult to induce the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136">136</SPAN></span>
boy to consent to the execution of another of his
closest kin, and there may have been some fraction
of truth in the report which gained currency that
the King had not been made acquainted with the
fact that his uncle was actually a prisoner until
he learnt it from the Duchess. He then sent for
the Archbishop and questioned him on the subject.</p>
<p>“Godfather,” he is made to say, “what has
become of my uncle, the Duke?” The explanation
furnished him by Cranmer—to the effect that,
had God not helped the Lords, the country would
have been ruined, and it was feared that the Protector
might have slain the King himself—did not
appear to commend itself to the young sovereign.
The Duke, he said, had never done him any harm,
and he did not wish him to be killed.</p>
<p>A King’s wishes, even at thirteen, have weight,
and Warwick suddenly discovered that good should
be returned for evil; and that since it was the King’s
desire, and the first thing he had asked of his
Council, the Duke must be pardoned.<SPAN name="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">103</SPAN></p>
<div id="ip_136" class="figcenter" style="width: 436px;">
<ANTIMG src="images/i_136.jpg" width-obs="436" height-obs="600" alt="" />
<p class="p0 in0 smaller">From a photo by W. Mansell & Co. after a painting by Holbein.</p>
<div class="caption"><p>EDWARD VI.</p>
</div>
</div>
<p>What is more certain is that, on condition of
an unqualified acknowledgment of his guilt, accompanied
by forfeiture of offices and property, it
was decided that Somerset should be set at liberty.
Self-respect or dignity was not in fashion, and in
the eyes of some the submission of the late Lord
Protector assumed the character of an “abjectness.”<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137">137</SPAN></span>
For the moment it purchased for him safety, and
he was gradually permitted to regain a certain
amount of influence and power. Some portion of
his wealth was restored to him, and he was at length
readmitted to the Council and to a limited share
in the government. To sanguine eyes all seemed
to have been placed on a satisfactory footing; but
jealousy, distrust, and hatred take much killing.
The position of the man who was the King’s
nearest of kin amongst his nobles, and had lately
been all-powerful in the State, was a difficult one.
Warwick was rising, and meant to rise; Somerset
was not content to remain fallen and discredited.
What seemed a peace was merely an armistice.</p>
<p>Meantime Warwick and his friends were no
more successful than his rival in maintaining the
national honour, and the peace with France concluded
during the spring was regarded by the nation as
a disgrace. Boulogne was surrendered to its natural
owners, and in magniloquent terms war was once
more stated to be at an end for ever between the
two countries.</p>
<p>Court and courtiers troubled themselves little
with such matters, and on St. George’s Day a
brilliant company of Lords of the Council and
Knights of the Garter kept the festival at Greenwich;
when a glimpse of the thirteen-year-old King is
to be caught, in a more boyish mood than usual.</p>
<p>Coming out from the discourse preached in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138">138</SPAN></span>
honour of the day, in high spirits and in the
argumentative humour fostered by sermons, the
“godly and virtuous imp” turned to his train.</p>
<p>“My Lords,” he demanded, “I pray you, what
saint is St. George, that we here so honour him?”</p>
<p>The sudden attack was unexpected, and, the Lords
of the Council being “astonied” by it, it was the
Treasurer who made reply.</p>
<p>“If it please Your Majesty,” he said, “I did
never read in any history of St. George, but only
in <cite>Legenda Aurea</cite>, where it is thus set down, that
St. George out with his sword and ran the dragon
through with his spear.”</p>
<p>The King, when he could not a great while
speak for laughing, at length said:</p>
<p>“I pray you, my Lord, and what did he do with
his sword the while?”</p>
<p>“That I cannot tell Your Majesty,” said he.<SPAN name="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">104</SPAN></p>
<p>Poor little King! poor “godly imp”! It is seldom
that his laughter rings out through the centuries.
Perhaps some of the grave Councillors or divines
present may have looked askance, considering that
it was not with the weapon of ridicule that the
patron saint of England should be most fitly attacked,
but with the more legitimate one of theological
criticism. But to us it is satisfactory to find
that there were times when even the modern Josiah
could not speak for laughing.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139">139</SPAN></span></p>
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