[] THE LIFE OF Sir THOMAS POPE.

SECT. I.

THOMAS POPE was born at Dedington in Oxfordſhire, about the year 1508^a, and at the end of the reign of king Henry the ſeventh.

His parents were William and Margaret Pope^b, who lived at Dedington^c: but the family, which ſeems at leaſt to have been that [2] of a gentleman, was originally ſeated in Kent, before the reign of Edward the third^d. Wil⯑liam appears to have been married to a former wife, named Julian Edmondes^e. His ſecond wife, Margaret, mother of THOMAS POPE, was the daughter of Edmund Yate, of Stan⯑lake in Oxfordſhire^f: and after the death of [3] William Pope, ſhe was again married, to John Buſtarde of Adderbury in the ſame county^g. Beſide the abovementioned THOMAS, the principal ſubject of theſe papers, the ſaid Wil⯑liam and Margaret had one ſon, John; and three daughters, Eliſabeth, Julian, and Alice^h: concerning all which I ſhall ſpeak more at large hereafter.

William and Margaret Pope ſeem to have lived in a decent and creditable condition, as may be collected from the bequeſts of Wil⯑liam's will; which alſo partly ſhews the cir⯑cumſtances in which his eldeſtⁱ ſon was left. He bequeathes his land to be divided between [4] his wife and his ſon THOMAS^k: one hundred pounds to the ſaid THOMAS, and forty pounds to each daughter: a ſtipend to a prieſt to ſing for his ſoul one year in the church of Deding⯑ton, in which he directs his body to be buri⯑ed: three ſhillings and four-pence, reſpective⯑ly, to the torches, the bells, Saint Thomas's beam, and our Lady's beam, in the ſaid church: ſix ſhillings and four-pence to Clifton chapel near Dedington: three ſhillings and four-pence to the mother church of Lincoln; and to each of his god-children a ſheep. He died in the year 1523^l. By an inquiſition taken after his death, it appears, that he poſ⯑ſeſſed eſtates, at Whitehill and Hooknorton in Oxfordſhire, of the yearly value of ſix pounds^m. Margaret has wife ſurvived him many years, and died on the twenty-fifth day of Auguſt, 1557ⁿ, at Wroxton, in Oxford⯑ſhire, [5] where ſhe ſeems to have lived during the latter part of her life with her younger ſon, John^o; her ſecond huſband, John Buſ⯑tarde, dying in the year 1534^p.

Their ſon THOMAS received the firſt rudi⯑ments of grammatical learning at the public ſchool of the neighbouring town of Banbury; at that time a celebrated ſchool, and kept by Thomas Stanbridge of Ma dalen college in Oxford, an eminent inſtructor of youth^q, bro⯑ther of John Stanbridge, who compiled a fa⯑mous grammar, called Stanbridge-grammar^r. [6] From hence he was removed to Eton college^s: but I do not find that he completed his educa⯑tion at either of our univerſities.

It ſeems moſt probable, that he was imme⯑diately ſent from Eton ſchool to ſome of the inns of court. I believe, to Gray's-inn. That he was bred to the law is certain; and there is undoubted evidence that he was employed, while very young, in ſome of the inferior offices of the court of chancery^t. And that he was originally deſtined, and regularly train⯑ed, to this profeſſion, may be conjectured from his hand-writing; many ſpecimens of which remain in his college at Oxford. Nor is it improbable, that he might be placed in his youth, for ſome time at leaſt, under the ſuper⯑intendence and inſtruction of ſome ſkilful practitioner in the law, perhaps a maſter in chancery; as in his will he bequeathes to his old maſter's ſon, maſter Croke ^u, his black ſattin [7] gown faced with Luſerne-ſpots^w. This Croke or Crooke, his ſuppoſed Maſter, ſeems to have been the chief of the ſix clerks in chancery who was ordered by Sir Thomas More, for the ſatisfaction of the judges, and his own juſtifi⯑cation, to make a docquet of all the Injunc⯑tions which he had given to the law courts during the time of his chancellorſhip^x.

But whatever was our young adventurer's ſituation in early life, it is remarkable that a perſon of his obſcure family and inconſiderable fortune, ſhould ſo ſoon recommend himſelf to public notice, and gain acceſs even to the royal favour. Vigorous abilities, and an active mind, eaſily ſurmounted all obſtacles; and he quickly became a ſucceſsful candidate in the purſuit of riches and honour.

[8] What was the firſt ſtep to his advance⯑ment in life, and whether it aroſe from the friendſhip of ſome private patron, from any diſtinguiſhed merit in his profeſſion, a peculiar caſt for buſineſs in general, or a lucky con⯑currence of all theſe cauſes, cannot be preciſely determined, although from what follows it may be partly conjectured. He was not much more than twenty-ſeven years of age, when he had ſufficient addreſs or intereſt to procure an appointment to offices, which ſeem to have been alternately beſtowed upon Henry's moſt eminent favourites, and the moſt popular cha⯑racters of thoſe times^y.

Having been early initiated, as I before ob⯑ſerved, in the buſineſs of chancery, on the fifth day October, 1533, he was conſtituted by let⯑ters patent of Henry the eighth, clerk of the briefs in the ſtar-chamber at Weſtminſter^z, On the fifteenth day of October in the ſame year, he received by letters patent of the ſame king, a reverſionary grant of the office of clerk [9] of the crown in chancery. Of this poſt, very ſoon afterwards, he became actually poſſeſſed; with an annual fee of twenty pounds from the hanaper, and alſo a robe with fur at the feaſts of Chriſtmas and Pentecoſt from the king's great wardrobe^a.

On the thirteenth day of November 1535, he was conſtituted, by the king's letters patent, warden of the mint, exchange, and coinage, in the tower of London, on the voluntary re⯑ſignation, in his favour, of John Coppynger, page of the great wardrobe^b. How long he continued in this office I have not learned. It ſeems, however, that he had quitted it within eight years, and, as I ſuppoſe, for ſome more valuable conſideration^c. On the twenty-third day of December, 1536, he was likewiſe by letters patent appointed, to exerciſe jointly with William Smythe, the office of clerk of all the briefs in the ſtar-chamber at Weſt⯑minſter^d.

[10] On February the twenty-eighth, 1538, he obtained, at his own inſtance, a new royal li⯑cence for exerciſing the office of clerk of the crown in conjunction with John Lucas^e, who was afterwards, in the reign of Edward the ſixth, an eminent crown-lawyer, and employ⯑ed by that prince in many important commiſ⯑ſions^f. The firſt of theſe grants he perhaps obtained by the recommendation of Sir Tho⯑mas More; who preſiding as Lord Chancellor in the court above-mentioned, where Sir Tho⯑mas Pope was employed when a young man, might have taken particular notice of his pro⯑miſing diligence and abilities; and from which circumſtance, a laſting friendſhip and intimacy between them both, as will be ſhewn here⯑after, ſeems to have originally commenced. Although there is equal reaſon to ſuppoſe, as it will likewiſe appear in its proper place, that he was in no leſs favour and eſteem with Sir Thomas More's ſucceſſor, the Lord Chancellor Thomas lord Audley; under whoſe immediate inſpection and authority he exerciſed the office of clerk of the crown, and clerk of the briefs in the ſtar-chamber: and to both of which [11] departments, as I preſume, he muſt have been appointed by Lord Chancellor Audley's nomi⯑nation^g.

But theſe appointments were ſoon ſucceeded by one of much greater conſequence. For in the year 1536, he was conſtituted, by the king, Treaſurer of the Court of augmentations of the king's revenue, on its firſt eſtabliſhment by act of parliament^h.

The principal deſign of this court was for eſtimating the lands of the diſſolved mona⯑ſteries, veſted in the Crown, and for receiving their revenues. It had moreover full power and authority to ſell the monaſtic poſſeſſions for the king's ſerviceⁱ. It was ſo called from the encreaſe which the royal revenue received, [12] by this new acquiſition of property. All per⯑ſons holding leaſes and penſions, by former grants, from any convent, exhibited their titles before this court, and their pretenſions were allowed in proportion to their validity. And although the governors of the religious houſes, foreſeein their fate, often contrived immedi⯑ately before the diſſolution of their reſpective ſocieties, to forge new contracts or indentures in favour of their friends or kindred, few frauds of this kind took effect. For the court ſeems to have been very vigilant in preventing and expoſing ſuch ſpecious impoſtures^k.

The officers of this court were a Chancel⯑lor, it's ſuperior, a Treaſurer abovementioned, who was the ſecond officer, a ſollicitor, ten auditors, ſeventeen recievers, with others, be⯑longing to the inferior departments. It was a court of record, and poſſeſſed of two ſeals^l.

The Treaſurer's office appears to have been a poſt of conſiderable profit and diſtinction, and of equal truſt and importance. He was ranked with the principal officers of ſtate in the reign of Henry the eighth. For by ſtatute of the ſame, he was privileged, together with [13] the chancellor of the ſaid court, the chancellor of the dutchy of Lancaſter, the treaſurer of the king's chamber, the chancellor of the court of firſt Fruits and Tenths, the maſter of the king's wards and liveries, the groom of the ſtole, the warden of the cinque ports, and other honourable perſonages, reſpectively, to retain in his houſe one chaplain having a bene⯑fice with cure of ſouls, who ſhould not be compelled to reſidence^m. The Treaſurer was allowed a limited annual ſalary for the exerciſe of his office; as alſo perquiſites for ſuch ſums of money as he paid to the patentees of any office, fee, or annuity, granted under the ſeal of the court: and alſo, for ſuch diſburſements as he made to any other perſons, by virtue of the king's warrant or bill aſſigned, or by bill aſſigned and ſubſcribed by the chancellor, and one other officer.

Theſe fees were regulated according to the practice of the court of the dutchy of Lancaſ⯑terⁿ. The allowance of Sir John Williams, afterwards Lord Williams of Tame, Treaſurer of this court in the reign of Edward the ſixth, was 320 l. A ſum, which I preſume, was [14] then the full value of this place^o: but which, although very conſiderable, was much inferi⯑or to the emoluments of the ſame office, when in the poſſeſſion of Sir Thomas Pope.

The Treaſurer at his admiſſion was ſworn before the chancellor, that he would reaſonably and honeſtly procure the king's profit, admi⯑niſter juſtice to the poor as well as the rich, faithfully keep and expend the king's treaſure, and exhibit a true declaration of it without concealment. The receivers were ordered to pay into his hands the whole rents of all the diſſolved monaſteries: concerning which he accounted annually before the chancellor and two auditors. The chaneellor, Treaſurer, at⯑torney, and ſollicitor, or any two of them were entruſted with power or licence to act without the king's warrant^p.

On the diſſolution of any greater abbey, ſome of the auditors, who were employed in riding to ſurvey the manors and lands of the court, repaired thither, and were lodged and [15] accommodated in the houſe^q; for the purpoſe of acquiring intelligence, and of tranſacting the neceſſary buſineſs relating to the ſeveral eſtates, with more convenience and certainty. The firſt chancellor of this court was Sir Richard Rich, afterwards lord Rich, and lord high chancellor of England^r.

Sir Thomas Pope held the treaſurerſhip of this court about five years, and was ſucceeded by Sir Edward North^s, privy counſellor and executor to Henry the eighth, and created a baron by queen Mary. About the ſame time he was appointed maſter, or treaſurer, of the jewel-houſe in the tower^t. The yearly ſti⯑pend of this office, when in the poſſeſſion of Thomas lord Cromwell, about five years be⯑fore, was fifty pounds^u.

[16] It would have broken the thread of my narrative, if I had before obſerved, that in 1535, June the twenty-ſixth, beginning now to riſe in the world, he received from Barker, otherwiſe garter king at arms, a patent for a new coat of arms, to be borne by him and his poſterity^w; which are the ſame that are now borne by Trinity college in Oxford: viz. Party per pale, or and azure, on a cheveron between three gryphons heads eraſed, four fleur de lys, all countercharged^x. To which it may be add⯑ed here, that in the latter end of the following year, viz. 1536, on the fifteenth day of Octo⯑ber, he was knighted by Henry eighth^y, amid the ſolemnities attending the creations of the earl of Southampton, and the gallant Edward Seymour, earl of Hertford, afterwards the [17] famous duke of Somerſet. At which time Henry Howard, afterwards the celebrated and unfortunate earl of Surrey, alſo received the honor of knighthood^z.

A few years after the erection of the court of augmentations above-mentioned, the king perceiving that his exigencies required more expeditious returns of money than the annual revenues of the diſſolved monaſteries could pro⯑duce, was neceſſitated to ſell by one extenſive commiſſion a very conſiderable part of their lands, for the purpoſe of raiſing preſent ſupplies. By this ſtep the court of augmentations was ſoon diminiſhed. The cauſes depending in it became few and inconſiderable, and the crown⯑profits ariſing from thence decreaſed; it's offi⯑cers were numerous, and their penſions ample. On theſe conſiderations he was induced to diſ⯑ſolve it; which he did by letters patent only: and on the ſecond of January, 1546, created by the ſame letters patent, a new court of augmentations, on a different and more con⯑fined plan.

In an original rough draught of this new eſtabliſhment^a, Sir Thomas Pope is nominated, by the king, maſter of the woods of the court [18] on this ſide the river Trent, and Sir John Wil⯑liams, Treaſurer. The other principal patent⯑officers, recited in the inſtrument, are Sir Ed⯑ward North, who is appointed chancellor, Sir Walter Mildmay, and Sir Thomas Moyle, ge⯑neral ſurveyors, Robert Henneage maſter of the woods beyond Trent, Richard Goodricke, attorney, and John Goſnold, ſollicitor. The reſt are Geoffry Gates, and John Arnſcott, ſur⯑veyors of the woods on each ſide Trent, and Richard Duke. The two maſters of the woods on each ſide Trent, are ſtyled the fourth offi⯑cers. At this time Sir Thomas Pope was one of the king's privy-counſellors^b The total ſum of yearly fees belonging to this court, on its ſecond reduced eſtabliſhmemt, amounted to 7249l. 10s. 3d.^c.

In the year 1553, the laſt of the reign of Ed⯑ward the ſixth, the firſt effort was made for the actual abolition of this court, which by degrees was become burthenſome, and at length ſuper⯑fluous. Accordingly, the ſame year, at Mary's [19] acceſſion^d it was incorporated into the exche⯑quer^e. Soon afterwards followed a grand ſale of lands, which formerly came within the cog⯑niſance of this court, and continued in poſſeſſion of the crown, under the conduct of commiſſio⯑ners; one of which was the chancellor of the exchequer. This appears from three valuable manuſcript volumes in the Britiſh Muſeum^f, which the learned and accurate Wanley ſup⯑poſed to have belonged to the court of aug⯑mentations. But this could not be the caſe, as the firſt of them was made and begins ſo late as the year 1557, four years after the abo⯑lition of that court. They were however com⯑piled in conſequence of that inſtitution, and may be conſidered among the laſt remains of its records^g.

[20] It is commonly ſuppoſed, and it has been ſaid in general terms, that Sir Thomas Pope was appointed one of the commiſſioners, or vi⯑ſitors, under Cromwell, for diſſolving the reli⯑gious houſes. It is indeed true, that he was one of thoſe, into whoſe hands the ſeal of the magnificent and opulent abbey of Saint Alban's was ſurrendered on the fifth day of December, 1539, by the laſt abbot, Richard Stevenache^h. This however is the only inſtance I can find, that he was ever concerned in this ſort of bu⯑ſineſs. His name does not appear among the perſons ſpecially appointed by Cromwell for this purpoſe; whoſe names are recited by Dug⯑daleⁱ from an authentic manuſcript in the [21] Cotton Library. Nor does his name occur in the private commiſſions, which, after a dili⯑gent ſearch, I have ſeen relating to this matter; nor in any inſtruments of reſignation, letters of advice to the viſitor general, memorials, or other authentic papers, concerning the viſitati⯑on or ſuppreſſion of any monaſtery. My opi⯑nion is therefore, that he was only occaſionally employed at Saint Alban's, as being one of the principal officers in the court of augmentations, as the place was in the neighbourhood of Lon⯑don, and as the ſurrender of ſo famous an ab⯑bey was an affair of ſome importance. Thus we find that the priory, now the dean and chapter, of Canterbury, was not diſſolved in the ordi⯑nary way; it being thought neceſſary, that the archbiſhop of Canterbury, the maſter of the rolls, Walter Henley attorney and Nicholas Bacon ſollicitor of the augmentation-court with four others, ſhould be ſent thither, to take the reſignation of the prior and monks^k. However, if it can be proved, that he was ever engaged on other occaſions in theſe violent proceedings of an avaricious and arbitrary prince, it may at the ſame time be fairly preſumed, that in an em⯑ployment which afforded ſo many obvious temptations to fraud, oppreſſion and rapacity, [22] he behaved with ſingular decency, moderation, and honour. Of this we have the impartial evidence of a prejudiced hiſtorian. For Fuller, who is remarkably ſevere on the viſitors in general, and who is ſeldom ſparing of his invectives, wherever he can diſcover the ſlighteſt foundation for abuſe, mentioning Sir Thomas Pope as an agent in theſe af⯑fairs, immediately ſubjoins: ‘"However, by all the printed books of that age, he ap⯑peareth one of a candid carriage; and in this reſpect ſtands ſole and ſingle by himſelf. That of the abbey-lands which he received, he refunded a conſiderable proportion for the building and endowing Trinity college in Oxford^l."’ And in another place, he mentions him with honour on the ſame ſubject. ‘"But the moſt pleaſant object to entertain us at this time in England, is the beholding of two fair and freſh foundations in Oxford; the one Trinity college, built by Sir Thomas Pope, principal viſitor at the diſſolution of abbies^m. Now as none were loſers employed in that ſervice, ſo we find few refunding back to charitable uſes; and perchance this man alone the thankful Samaritane who made a publick acknowledgementⁿ."’ At the ſurren⯑der [23] of Saint Alban's Abbey, he preſerved by his intereſt, and particular application to the king, the noble conventual church now ſtand⯑ing, and made parochial^o: one of the earlieſt and moſt venerable monuments of Norman architecture remaining in England^p.

On the whole, the circumſtance of his hav⯑ing received grants of the lands of the monaſte⯑ries, ſeems to have occaſioned the miſtaken ſup⯑poſition that he was frequently and profeſſedly concerned as a Commiſſioner in the diſſolution of their foundations. That his prodigious pro⯑perty was accumulated in conſequence of the deſtruction of the religious houſes, is not deni⯑ed: and the lucky oportunity of raiſing an eſ⯑tate from this grand harveſt of riches which now lay open before him, ſeems to have divert⯑ed his thoughts from making a fortune by the law; a profeſſion which he moſt probably would have otherwiſe continued to cultivate with the greateſt ſucceſs, and in which he might have undoubtedly claimed the moſt opu⯑lent and diſtinguiſhed ſtations. I could give a minute detail, from the moſt authentic evi⯑dences, of the grants of abbey-land, which he [24] recieved during the reign of Henry the eighth; but it may ſuffice to obſerve in more general terms, that before the year 1556, he appears to have been actually poſſeſſed of more than thirty manors in Oxfordſhire, Glouceſterſhire, War⯑wickſhire, Derbyſhire, Bedfordſhire, Hereford⯑ſhire, and Kent; beſide other conſiderable eſ⯑tates, and ſeveral advowſons. Some of theſe poſſeſſions were given him by Henry the eighth; but the greateſt part was acquired by purchaſe while he was connected with the court of augmentations^q. Many of his eſtates were bought of Queen Mary^r.

But let us ſuppoſe, what indeed cannot be proved, that Sir Thomas Pope was one of Cromwell's viſitors in the affair of the monaſ⯑teries. For although I have inſinuated above, that theſe viſitors were not on all occaſions en⯑tirely juſtifiable in their proceedings, I am yet [25] inclined to think, that their conduct and be⯑haviour were in general leſs blameable than has been commonly repreſented.

It is no wonder, that the monks ſhould load thoſe whom they eſteemed the inſtruments of their ruin with many calumnies; all which were ſtudiouſly propagated and heightened by their advocates of the catholic perſuaſion. And it ſhould at the ſame time be remembered, that the king's injunctions, under which they acted, were extremely ſevere; inſomuch, that many fraternities deſired their houſes might be rather entirely ſuppreſſed, than reformed under ſuch rigorous conditions.

With regard to the vices and diſorders^s, which they pretended to have detected in the [26] monaſteries, their reports ſometimes perhaps deſerve credit, as thoſe enormities are too natu⯑rally and unavoidably connected with the mo⯑naſtic inſtitution. In this, as in all other caſes of that ſort, mutual oppoſition produced mu⯑tual obloquy.

Nor ſhould it be forgotten, that the viſitors gave a favorable report of ſome houſes. They interceded earneſtly for the nunnery of God-ſtowe in Oxfordſhire: declaring that the nuns were ſtrict in their lives; and alledging that the ſuppreſſion of this houſe would prove an irre⯑parable inconvenience, as moſt of the young ladies of the beſt families of that county were ſent thither for education^t. From the abbey of [27] ſaint Edmondſbury in Suffolk they wrote to Cromwell, that they could find nothing ſcan⯑dalous in the Abbot or any member of the con⯑vent^u. After ſurveying the ſtately and ancient abbey of Glaſtonbury, they recommended it to the Lord Privy ſeal, that the buildings, at leaſt, might be ſuffered to remain undemoliſh⯑ed; repreſenting, that the ſtructure in general of this monaſtery was ſo magnificent, that it might very properly be ſpared, and eaſily be converted into a palace for the king^w. Gyffard, in particular, one of the viſitors, petitioned in the ſtrongeſt terms for the abſolute continuance of the monaſtery of Woolſtrope in Lincoln⯑ſhire. I will inſert the words of his letter to Cromwell; not only becauſe they contain an unexpected inſtance of candour, compaſſion, and honeſty, but as they preſerve a curious picture of a well-regulated religious houſe, of the ſe⯑cond magnitude, at that period. ‘"The gover⯑nor thereof [Woolſtrope] is a verie good huſbande for the howſe, and well beloved of all the inhabitants thereunto adjoyn⯑ynge:—a right honeſt man, having ryghte religious perſones, being preſts of ryght good converſacion, and lyvynge relygiouſly: having ſuch qualities of vertue as we have [28] not found the lyke in no place. For ther is not one religious perſon ther, but that he can and doth uſe, either embrotheryng, writinge bokes with verie fair hande, mak⯑yng their owne garments, carving, paynting, or graffing [graving]. The howſe wythout eny ſlaunder or ill fame, and ſtandinge verie ſolitarie: keepinge ſuch hoſpitalitie, that, except ſingular good provyſion, it could not be manytened with half ſo much land more as they may ſpend. Such a number of the pore inhabitants nigh thereunto daily reliev⯑ed, that we have not ſeene the lyke, havinge no more lands than they have. God be even my judge, as I do wryte unto yow the troth. Which verie pitie cauſeth me to write. The premiſes conſidered, I beſeche yow to be a meane to the king's majeſtie, for the ſtand⯑inge of the ſayde Wolſtrope^x."’ The ſame [29] commiſſioner, with three others of his aſſoci⯑ates in the viſitation, pleaded in the ſame be⯑nevolent ſtrain for the nunnery of Cateſby in Northamptonſhire. ‘"This houſe we found in very perfett order. The priores a ſure, wiſe, diſcreet, and very relygious woman; with ix nunnys under her obedyence, as relygious and devout, and with as good obedyence as we have in time paſte ſeen, or belyke ſhall ſee. The ſeid howſe ſtandyth in ſuch a quarter much to the releff of the king's peo⯑ple, and his grace's pore ſubjects their [there] likewyſe moo relieved.—Wherefore yf yt ſhuld pleaſe the kyng's highnes to have eny remorſe, that eny ſuch religious howſe ſhall ſtande; we think his grace cannot appointe eny howſe more mete to ſhewe his moſt gra⯑cious charitie and pitey over than on the ſaide howſe of Cateſby^y."’ I find alſo Gyf⯑fard interceding in the ſame manner for the nunnery of Poleſworth in Warwickſhire. [30] ‘"Wherein is an abbes namyd dame Alice Fitzherbert, of the age of lx yeares, a very ſadde, diſcreate, and religyous woman:—and in the ſame howſe, under her rule, are xii vertuous and religyous nonnes, and of good converſation.—Wherefore ye myght do a ryght good and merytorious dede, to be medyatour to the kyng's highnes for the ſaid howſe to ſtande and remayne unſuppreſ⯑ſed.—And in the town of Poleſworth are xliv tenements, and never a plough but one^z: the reſydue be artifycers, laborers, and victellers, and live in effect by the ſaid howſe, and the repayre and reſorte that ys made to the gentylmens children and ſtu⯑diountes, that ther do lyf, to the nombre ſometyme of xxx and ſometyme xl and more; that their be ryght vertuouſly brought upp, &c. Written at Maxſtocke beſide Co⯑ventree the xxviii day of July^a."’ [1537.] Many others of the commiſſioners alſo ſhewed a compaſſionate concern for the religious at their expulſion, in providing them proper pen⯑ſions, [31] according to their age, infirmities, or other circumſtances of diſtreſs^b.

In the reign of Henry the eighth, Sir Tho⯑mas Pope was employed in various ſervices and attendances about the court. He was appoint⯑ed^c, April 21, 1544, together with Sir Ed⯑ward North, afterwards Lord North, to con⯑vey the great ſeal of England, being reſigned by the lord chancellor Audley then indiſpoſed, to the king at his new palace of Weſtminſter, who delivered it into the cuſtody of Sir Tho⯑mas Wriotheſſey^d. There is a circumſtance [32] relating to this reſignation which is not men⯑tioned by any of our hiſtorians. For the king committed the ſeal to Sir Thomas Wriotheſley, with the title of keeper, only during the indiſ⯑poſition of lord Audley; with the reſervation of reinſtating him in the chancellorſhip on his recovery^e. In 1547, he ſeems to have been ſummoned and examined by the privy council, concerning certain treaſonable expreſſions which had dropped from Thomas duke of Norfolk, afterwards condemned with lord Surrey but not executed, in reference to the Act of Uſes^f. He was a ſingular and moſt intimate friend of ſir Thomas More, who ſeems to have taken early notice of him, as I before hinted, when a young man in the court of chancery; and was ſent by the king, to notify to that illuſtrious ſufferer in the cauſe of miſ⯑taken conſcience, the hour appointed for his execution.

[33] As the interview between theſe two friends, on this important occaſion, is memorable and intereſting, I ſhall inſert it at length.

On the fifth day of July^g, 1535, he waited on ſir Thomas More, then under condemnation in the Tower, early in the morning; and ac⯑quainted him that he came by command of the king and council, to bring his unfortunate friend the melancholy news, that he muſt ſuf⯑fer death before nine of the clock the ſame morning, and that therefore he ſhould imme⯑diately begin to prepare himſelf for that awe⯑ful event. Upon this meſſage, More, without the leaſt ſurprize or emotion, chearfully repli⯑ed; ‘"Maſter Pope, I moſt heartily thank you for your good tidings. I have been much bound to the king's highneſs for the benefits of his honors that he hath moſt bountifully beſtowed upon me; yet am I more bound to his grace, I aſſure you, for putting me here, where I have had convenient time and ſpace to have remembrance of my end. And ſo help me god. Moſt of all am I bound unto him, that it hath pleaſed his majeſty ſo ſhortly to rid me out of the miſeries of this wicked world."’ Then Pope ſubjoined, that [34] it was the king's pleaſure that at the place of execution he ſhould not uſe many words. To this More anſwered, that he was ready to ſub⯑mit to the king's commands; and added, ‘"I beſeech you good Mr. Pope, to gett the king to ſuffer my daughter Margaret to be preſent at my burial."’ Pope aſſured him that he would uſe his utmoſt intereſt with the king for this purpoſe: and having now finiſhed his diſagreeable commiſſion, he ſolemnly took leave of his dying friend, and burſt into tears. More perceiving his concern, ſaid with his uſual compoſure; ‘"Quiet yourſelf, good Mr. Pope, and be not diſcomforted; for I truſt that we ſhall one day in heaven ſee each other full merrily, where we ſhall be ſure to live and love together in joyful bliſs eternal⯑ly^h."’ But this method of conſolation prov⯑ing ineffectual, More to divert the melancholy of his friend, and to diſmiſs him in better ſpirits, called for a glaſs; and applying it as an urinal, he held it up to the light, and with the prophetic air of a ſagacious phyſician gravely declared, ‘"This man might have lived longer if it had pleaſed the kingⁱ."’

[35] In conſequence of ſir Thomas Pope's in⯑terceſſion with the king, agreeably to More's earneſt and dying requeſt, his favorite daugh⯑ter, Margaret Roper, and others of his family were permitted to be preſent at his interment, which was performed immediately after the execution in the chapel of the Tower. But Margaret afterwards, and probably by the ſame intereſt, begged the body of the king, and depoſited it on the ſouth-ſide of the choir of the church of Chelſea, where a monu⯑ment, with an inſcription written by himſelf, had been erected ſome time before. This affectionate daughter, whoſe reſolution equals her pity, alſo found means to procure her father's head, after it had remained, igno⯑miniouſly ſtuck on a pole, on London bridge, for fourteen days. For this daring fact ſhe was apprehended and impriſoned; but declar⯑ing in her defence before the privy coun⯑cil, that ſhe had bought it that it might not in the end become food for fiſhes in the Thames, ſhe was diſcharged^k. However ſhe carefully preſerved it for ſome time in a leaden box, till an opportunity offered of con⯑veying [36] it to Canterbury, where ſhe placed it in a vault belonging to her huſband's family, under a chapel adjoining to ſaint Dunſtan's church in that city^l.

SECT. II.

IN the reign of Edward the ſixth, when the religious and political affairs of the kingdom took another turn, and all pub⯑lic buſineſs fell into the hands of new miniſ⯑ters and managers, ſir Thomas Pope did not comply with the times. He was appointed to no office, nor enjoyed any favor in this reign. He received indeed ſome grants of land from the crown about the firſt year of this king, with Cranmer archbiſhop of Canterbury, the duke of Somerſet, the earl of Warwick, the marquis of Northampton, and ſeveral other principal perſons of the court. But theſe grants were made for paſt ſervices, and in con⯑ſideration of other claims due from the deceaſ⯑ed king^m.

[38] The unlimited authority, and arbitrary do⯑minion of Henry, had kept both proteſtants and papiſts in ſubjection. Under ſuch a govern⯑ment they both acted uniformly, and neither party preſumed to claim any apparent ſuperiori⯑ty. But upon the deceaſe of that uncontroulable monarch, the people diſcovered their real ſen⯑timents without reſerve, and proteſtantiſm manifeſtly began to be the prevailing religion. The protector Somerſet, who had long been a ſecret partiſan of the reformers, on the ac⯑ceſſion of young Edward, publicly declared his intention of forwarding and eſtabliſhing the reformation. In this ſcheme he was hap⯑pily ſeconded by moſt of the privy council, who after the fall of Southampton ſeem en⯑tirely to have deſerted the catholic commu⯑nion. The protector wiſely took care that all perſons to whom he entruſted the educa⯑tion of the young king, ſhould be attached to theſe rational principles; and preferred and encouraged thoſe alone that appeared active in this profeſſion.

Thus moſt of the courtiers, yet more perhaps in general from lucrative views than from real conviction, became converts to the predomi⯑nant party: amongſt which, however, I do not find ſir Thomas Pope. This, at leaſt, [39] ſhews a ſteadineſs and uniformity of mind in thoſe days of change, which afford ſuch fre⯑quent inſtances of occaſional compliance.

Nor let it be deemed any inconſiſtency of character, that he, though a rigid papiſt, ſhould have been in the preceding reign an agent for ſuppreſſing the monaſteries, and a receiver of their poſſeſſions. For the demo⯑lition of theſe houſes was not an act of the church but of the ſtate. It was prior to the reformation of religion, and effected by a king and parliament of the popiſh communion. It was even confirmed by the parliament of queen Maryⁿ.

Very few papiſts wrote or remonſtrated againſt the deſtruction of theſe ſocieties. With⯑out the leaſt impeachment of their principles, or ſuſpicion of apoſtacy, ſeveral others, the ſtricteſt members of the catholic perſuaſion, and the moſt reſpectable characters of thoſe times, among which, to mention no more, was the duke of Norfolk, accepted grants of the con⯑ventual eſtates.

Even the clergy thought it no ſacrilege to ſhare in theſe acquiſitions. The dean and [40] chapter of Litchfield, and the abbot and con⯑vent of Weſtminſter, made no ſcruple of re⯑ceiving manors alienated from other religious corporations^o, lately diſſolved. Burnet tells us^p, that biſhop Gardiner was remarkably ve⯑hement in declaiming againſt the monaſteries; and that in many of his ſermons he commend⯑ed the king for ſupperſſing them^q. Queen Mary, in the very firſt year of her reign, made grants of the ſite of twenty religious houſes, and of very large quantities of abbey-land^r. The biſhops and clergy in a catholic convoca⯑tion, 1554, petitioned that the pope would not inſiſt on a reſtitution of the eccleſiaſtical revenues, but rather confirm them to thoſe lords and gentlemen by whom they had been obtained^s. And it is notorious, that ſome of the popiſh biſhops were no leſs alienators of their epiſcopal endowments^t, than many other biſhops of the proteſtant church proved afterwards, in the reigns of Edward the ſixth and Elizabeth. The biſhop of Chicheſter, in opening the diſputation of Henry the eighth [41] with Lambert, in Weſtminſter-hall, ranked the king's diſincorporation of the monks with his rejection of the ſee of Rome, his abolition of idolatrous adoration, and the introduction of the Engliſh bible; as a matter of an external nature, and in no reſpect interfering with the eſſentials of the catholic communion^u. The monaſtic inſtitution was no part of the papiſtic theology. Undoubtedly the ſuppreſſion of the convents facilitated the admiſſion of proteſta⯑tiſm: but it was evidently undertaken on other principles.

When queen Mary ſucceeded to the throne, ſir Thomas Pope was again taken into favour, and ſoon afterwards conſtituted one of the queen's privy counſellors^w. He is likewiſe ſaid to have been appointed cofferer to the houſhold^x.

But before I proceed further in this reign, it may be proper to obviate ſome ſeeming diffi⯑culties and inconſiſtences, by premiſing, on what ſecurity ſir Thomas Pope, together with many others, held his church-revenues, under [42] a bigotted catholic queen, and upon the reſto⯑ration of the popiſh religion. By way of pro⯑curing new conceſſions in favour of Rome, and to prevent unſeaſonable alarms, at the begin⯑ning of this reign, both the queen and the pope had given repeated aſſurances that the church and abbey lands ſhould remain, forever unreclaimed, in the hands of their preſent poſſeſſors^y. But that the tenure of theſe poſ⯑ſeſſions ſhould not be fixed on ſo precarious a foundation as that of mere promiſes, in 1554, an act of parliament was paſſed; which, while it reſtored the pope's authority, gave abſolute ſecurity to the proprictors of the eccleſiaſtical eſtates, entirely confirmed their title beyond the power of reſumption, and, at the ſame time, exempted them from the danger of ſpi⯑ritual cenſures^z. In the mean time, that this meaſure might receive the fulleſt ſanction, car⯑dinal Pole, who was inveſted by the pope with legantine juriſdiction, ratified the parliament's decree: and, that the diſpenſation might be ſtill more ample and effectual, in conſequence of his maſter's commiſſion, the legate enſured even the property of future acquiſitions of church lands to the preſent receivers^a.

[43] Thus, an equivalent was granted on both ſides. The nobility and gentry were ſettled in the quiet enjoyment of their eſtates; and the pope, although moſt eſſentially weakened by the alienation of that wealth on which his power ſo much depended, was reinſtated in his ſupremacy over the church.

During this reign ſir Thomas Pope was often employed in commiſſions of conſe⯑quence. On the twenty-ninth day of July, 1553, he was commiſſioned by the coun⯑cil, together with ſir Arthur Darcy, and others^b, to apprehend lord Ruſſel, Anthony Browne of Eſſex, and ſeveral accomplices con⯑cerned in the duke of Northumberland's in⯑ſurrection; who, on the death of Edward, had raiſed an army with an intent to place the lady Jane Gray on the throne, before Mary was proclaimed queen. The duke himſelf had been apprehended ſome little time before. For after many fruitleſs efforts, and vain expectations of a reinforcement, he ſuddenly changed his principles, diſmiſſed his troops, and tamely ſubmitted to proclaim queen Mary with all external demonſtrations of triumph and ſatis⯑faction. Being immediately arreſted by the [44] earl of Arundel, he fell on his knees and ab⯑jectly begged his life^c.

In the ſame year, on the twenty-third day of February, I find him directed by the council, together with lord Rich, the maſter of the rolls, the lieutenant of the Tower, and others, to appoint a certain number of the council, who ſhould conſtantly remain, and diſpatch buſineſs, at London^d. For the court, whom the privy council always followed and attend⯑ed, was often held at different palaces in the country; as at Oatelands, Richmond, Green⯑wich, and other places^e. At the ſame time he is commanded, with the ſame perſons, to give orders for victualling and furniſhing the Tower of London^f. There was another commiſſion, the ſame year, directed by the queen to ſir Richard Southwell, and others, for inſpecting the office of ordinance, and examining the ſtate of ammunition in the Tower^g. By which [45] it appears, that this department had been greatly neglected in the foregoing reign; or that the queen was willing to take the proper precautions againſt any future attack on her title, from her factious and diſcontented ſub⯑jects. The ſame year, on the twenty-ninth day of October, he was appointed, with the lord treaſurer, the earl of Arundel, lord Rich, ſir Francis Englefield, and ſeveral others, to examine certain offenders taken in Northum⯑berland's rebellion, and to aſſeſs their fines^h. Soon afterwards, in the beginning of 1554, I find him preſent, together with ſir Philip Denny, ſir Thomas Brydges, and others, when ſir Thomas Wyat, and his deſperate aſſociates, after their raſh and abortive enterpriſe, were led priſoners into the tower of London. On which occaſion ſir Thomas Pope ſeverely re⯑proached Brett, one of the principal rebels, for his complicated cowardice and treachery. A charge which the priſoner could not but ac⯑knowledge with much ſhame and confuſion. For Brett, being the captain of a detachment of archers in the queen's ſervice, had privately revolted with all his party at a time of danger, and joined Wyat's armyⁱ.

[46] In the ſame year, ſir Thomas Pope was one of the champions at a magnificent juſting ex⯑hibited before the queen at Weſtminſter. On which occaſion the horſes were richly capa⯑riſoned with red velvet and ſilver boſſes, and the helmets of the knights were plumed with oſtrich-feathers. Many Spaniſh noblemen were preſent^k.

On the fifteenth of March, 1554, he was conſtituted, with ſir Robert Rocheſter, comp⯑troller of the houſhold, ſir Richard Southwell, ſir Thomas Cornwallis, ſir Edmund Peckham, and ſir Edward North, knights, a commiſſio⯑ner, for examining, adjuſting, and balancing the accounts of ſir Thomas Greſham, who was agent to the queen at Antwerp for taking [47] up money of the merchants of that city^l. The commiſſioners are ordered to examine, allow, and determine all receipts, payments, charges, and diſcharges, declarations, or em⯑ployments, of ſir Thomas Greſham, or his agents; to aſſign him, by deduction, an al⯑lowance of twenty ſhillings per day, with all incidental expences: and finally to acquit and diſcharge the ſaid ſir Thomas Greſham: to charge and diſcharge all allowances and defal⯑cations in ſtating the account, according to their wiſdom and diſcretion, either of monies taken up for Edward the ſixth, or for the pre⯑ſent queen. For this buſineſs ſir Thomas Pope was admirably qualified, from that knowledge and experience in ſtating extenſive and com⯑plicated accounts, which he muſt have acqui⯑red while he was concerned in the court of Augmentations. And for the ſame reaſon, in the ſucceeding reign, ſir Walter Mildmay was deputed by the lords, to make a general inqui⯑ſition of the royal revenue^m.

[48] This expedient of borrowing money at an exorbitant intereſt of the merchants of Ant⯑werp, was a meaſure which Mary was oblig⯑ed to put in practice more than onceⁿ. And it had been to her honor, if ſhe had uſed no worſe. For indeed the chief object of go⯑vernment, which for ſome time engaged her attention, was to raiſe large ſums by the moſt irregular methods, or to extort money from her ſubjects. She ſometimes endeavoured to recruit her exhauſted exchequer by retrench⯑ing the public expences at home. She de⯑moliſhed ſeveral forts on the river below Graveſend, which were filled with ſuperflu⯑ous garriſons; ſhe broke all the body guards, half the band of penſioners, the gentlemen of the ſtables, and the pages of honor: and propoſed to diſband the hundred archers of the guard. But to frugality ſhe added oppreſſion, and her unhappy neceſſities fre⯑quently compelled her to the moſt violent and unjuſtifiable experiments. She levied ſixty thouſand marks from ſeven thouſand yeomen, and thirty-ſix thouſand pounds from the mer⯑chants. This was exacted, becauſe they had not contributed to a former loan of ſixty thou⯑ſand pounds levied on a thouſand perſons, in [49] whoſe compliance, either on account of their loyalty or their riches, ſhe firmly confided. But that tax not being found ſufficient, ſhe exacted a general loan of an hundred pounds each, on all who poſſeſſed an annual income of twenty pounds. This impoſition obliged many of the gentry to reduce their domeſtic expences, and to diſmiſs many of their ſervants, that they might, at leaſt more prudently, comply with her commands. And as theſe ſervants, having no means of ſubſiſtence, by too com⯑mon a tranſition from that ſtate of idleneſs, betook themſelves to theft and robbery, the queen knew no better method of redreſſing the grievance, than to publiſh a proclamation, obliging their former maſters to take them back to their ſervices. In order to gratify the city of London for paſt favors, and to engage them to aſſiſt her with future ſupplies, ſhe iſſued an edict, at their inſtance, prohibit⯑ing for four months, the exportation of Eng⯑liſh clothes into Flanders. By this iniquit⯑ous combination, a good market was procured in that country for ſuch as had already ſent thither large quantities of that ſort of mer⯑chandiſe^o.

Her extravagancies proved a perpetual ob⯑ſtruction to the commercial intereſts of the [50] kingdom. Her own bigottry was not always a ſufficient reſtraint on her conſcience, to pre⯑vent her from expoſing to ſale the revenues^p of that church, in defence of which ſhe had ſacrificed in the flames ſo many victims. But it would be endleſs and impertinent here, to mention at large her multiplied extortions; and the various imprudent or fraudulent ſchemes, which her exigencies invented for obtaining money. It may be ſufficient to add, that theſe expedients were employed, not to carry on an expenſive war, for ſhe was in profound peace with all the world; nor to promote the national welfare by any new eſta⯑bliſhments or improvements: but to ſatisfy the unjuſt demands of a huſband, who ſlighted her love, neglected her intereſts, and ſolely conſulted his own convenience.

On this occaſion one cannot help obſerving the weakneſs of the human mind under the moſt powerful and importunate of paſſions. Mary regarded her huſband Philip with all the fondneſs and ſollicitude of an uncertain lover. This attachment produced ſtrange contradic⯑tions in her ſentiments and behaviour. She was naturally too phlegmatic to be profuſe; yet, from a penurious and economical habit [51] of mind, ſhe ſuddenly became rapacious and expenſive. She perſecuted the reformed with the moſt barbarous ſeverities, yet alienated the riches aſſigned to ſupport her favorite ſuperſtitions. In this ſituation, ſhe was at once deſerted by that cold and ſtoical inflexi⯑bility which diſtinguiſhes her character; and the ſedate and gloomy queen ſuffered herſelf to be betrayed into greater inconſiſtencies of conduct, than even the moſt unaccountable caprice of her father Henry could have dic⯑tated.

Before the reign of queen Mary, it was the common practice with our Engliſh princes to have recourſe to the city of Antwerp for voluntary loans; and we generally find their credit ſo low, that they were obliged to en⯑gage the city of London to join in the ſecu⯑rity. But this buſineſs ſeems never to have been ſo effectually conducted as by that pub⯑lic-ſpirited and enterprizing merchant, ſir Thomas Greſham, who began to be employed in this agency by Edward the ſixth^q. He was likewiſe employed by queen Elizabeth for the ſame purpoſe; one of whoſe firſt ſteps, at her acceſſion, was to procure money. She [52] ſent Greſham to Antwerp to borrow two hundred thouſand pounds, in order to enable her to reform the coinage, at that time ex⯑tremely debaſed. But, as a moſt ſenſible and acute hiſtorian obſerves^r, ſhe was ſo impolitic as to make herſelf an innovation in the coin; by dividing a pound of ſilver into ſixty-two ſhillings, inſtead of ſixty, the former ſtandard.

In the year 1557, on the eighth of February, ſir Thomas Pope was joined by the queen, in a famous commiſſion for the more effectual ſuppreſſion of heretics^s, in concert with Bon⯑ner, biſhop of London, Thirlby, biſhop of Ely, the Lords Windſor and North, ſecretary Bourne, ſir John Mordaunt, ſir Francis Engle⯑field, ſir Edward Waldegrave, ſir Nicholas Hare, ſir Roger Cholmeley, ſir Richard Read, ſir Thomas Stradling, ſir Rowland Hill, ſer⯑jeant Raſtall, Cole, dean of ſaint Paul's, Wil⯑liam Cooke, Thomas Martin, John Story, and John Vaughan, doctors of law, and Wil⯑liam Roper and Ralph Cholmeley, eſquires. Theſe commiſſioners were empowered to en⯑quire after all perſons ſuſpected of heretical [53] opinions: to ſearch for and ſeize ſeditious and heterodox books, either expoſed to ſale, or ſecreted in private houſes: to inveſti⯑gate and examine concealments, contempts, conſpiracies, and calumnies, againſt the go⯑vernment. They were ordered to detect thoſe perſons who refuſed to preach the ſacrament of the altar, to hear maſs, to take holy bread or holy water, to frequent their reſpective public churches, and to aſſiſt in the ſolemn proceſſions. They were likewiſe privileged to ſummon what witneſſes they judged moſt proper, and to tender oaths to the parties proſecuted, for anſwering ſuch queſtions as might be deemed moſt convenient for diſ⯑covering the truth, In this injunction how⯑ever, there is a remarkable clauſe of reſtraint upon the commiſſioners. For it is expreſſly commanded, that if any perſon brought be⯑fore them for heretical doctrines or opinions, ſhould ſtill obſtinately perſiſt in his error, ‘"He ſhould immediately be committed to his ordinary, there to be uſed according to the ſpiritual and eccleſiaſtical laws."’

Biſhop Burnet, whoſe imagination was per⯑petually haunted with the horrors of popery, ſuppoſes, that ſomething more dreadful was intended by this commiſſion than appears at firſt ſight, and that it was undoubtedly de⯑ſigned [54] as the tribunal of an Inquiſition in England^t. But a ſuperficial reader may plain⯑ly perceive, that there is nothing of the form, proceſs, or power, of an Inquiſition contained in this inſtrument. The commiſſioners receive no authority to try heterodoxy, nor to put the offenders upon making an act of faith. On the contrary, they are directed to deliver up all delinquents to the ordinary. And even here the proceſs is to be regulated by the laws of the church. Theſe circumſtances ſeem ſufficiently to exclude the idea of an inquiſi⯑torial tribunal. For the proceedings of the commiſſioners, however rigorouſly they might have been conducted, were not unlimited and arbitrary; but finally determinable by the proper eccleſiaſtical officer, who was himſelf controlled by the ſpiritual conſtitutions of the land, which did not at leaſt on this occaſion, receive any degree of extenſion. The zealous biſhop makes the matter ſtill more alarming, where he tells us, that in ſupport of ſuch meaſures, ‘"he finds it ſaid, that ſome ad⯑viſed that courts of inquiſition, like thoſe in France and Spain, might be ſet up in England^u."’ But he does not inform us by whom this is ſaid, nor can I find this advice [55] in any of our hiſtorians. Even Fox, who omits nothing that can expoſe the papiſts, who has ſtudiouſly recorded all the idle reports of the times, and who ſuppoſed that the papiſts worſhipped one god and the proteſtants another^w, is ſilent on this important ſubject. And indeed if we conſider the queen's late expoſtulation with the pope, in which ſhe declared her reſolution of maintaining the prerogative and the conſtitution^x; if we re⯑collect that Philip's confeſſor, Alphonſus, ex⯑preſſly declaimed againſt perſecutions in the pulpit, by the king's own deſire^y: and if to theſe reaſons we add the diſtinguiſhed lenity, moderation, and candor of cardinal Pope; this project of an Engliſh inquiſition muſt appear altogether improbable.

But whatever was the real ſtate of the caſe, we find that the commiſſioners, ſenſible that perſecution naturally counteracts its own pur⯑poſe, [56] and averſe to meaſures which might pro⯑bably end in the moſt inhuman puniſhments, did little or nothing in this buſineſs^z: eſpe⯑cially as to the detection of prohibited books. For ſo inactive were they, that on the ſixth of June, 1558, the queen was obliged to pub⯑liſh a proclamation^a; in which ſhe com⯑plains, that not only numberleſs ſeditious and treaſonable treatiſes, were printed at home and diſperſed without controul, but even import⯑ed from abroad. As the provocation was great, ſo the proclamation is conceived in the moſt deſpotic and unconſtitutional terms. It ſets forth, amonſt other extraordinary menaces, that if thoſe perſons who find ſuch unlaw⯑ful books do not immediately deſtroy them, they ſhall be reputed rebels, and executed accordingly by martial law. The queen in⯑deed had ſome reaſon for complaint, and for ſubſtituting ſomewhat more effectual in the place of her former commiſſion by this recent injunction. For during the actual ſubſiſtence and authority of that commiſſion, Knox and Goodman printed, and imported from Geneva, a piece entitled, The firſt Blaſt of the Trumpet againſt the monſtrous Regimen of Women ^b. In [57] this performance, which is full of paradox and enthuſiaſm, they call the queen Trait⯑reſs, Baſtard, Proſerpine; with other terms of illiberal and ridiculous abuſe. Goodman alſo publiſhed about the ſame time, How ſuperior Powers ought to be obeyed of their Subjects, and wherein they may be lawfully by God's Word diſ⯑obeyed and reſiſted ^c. But theſe treatiſes, writ⯑ten chiefly for the gratification of Calvin then living at Geneva, were not more invectives againſt the invincible bigottries of Mary, and the groſs abſurdities of popery, than they were openly ſubverſive of all eſtabliſhed go⯑vernment and religion. Juſt before, a book of very pernicious tendency had appeared^d, called a Treatiſe of politick Power ^e. Plays and enterludes ridiculing the queen's perſon and [58] government were exhibited^f. Libels and ſati⯑res were thrown into the houſes of the privy counſellors; and even dropped in the queen's own chamber.

Amongſt other paſquinades, there were prints, or pictures, repreſenting her majeſty, naked, meager, withered, and wrinkled, with every aggravated circumſtance of deformity that could diſgrace a female figure, ſeated in a regal chair; a crown on her head, ſurrounded with M. R. and A. in capital characters. In the firſt of theſe was written, in ſmall letters, Maria, in the ſecond regina, and in the third Anglioe. The additional figures were a great number of Spaniards ſucking her. Underneath, in Italian characters, were legends, ſignifying that the Spaniards had ſucked her to ſkin and bone; as alſo ſpecifying minutely the money, rings, jewels, and other preſents, with which ſhe had ſecretly gratified her huſband Philip. The queen was highly incenſed at this inſolent and popular piece of ridicule; eſpecially as ſhe ſuſpected ſome of her own council, who alone were privy to theſe tranſactions, and acquainted with her ſecrets^g.

[59] With regard to the perſecutions of this reign, which occaſioned the commiſſion in which Sir Thomas Pope was concerned, re⯑lating to the ſuppreſſion of heretics, we will allow that the queen and her friends had ſuffered, what they thought the moſt in⯑jurious treatment; and, no doubt, when power returned into their hands, were but too na⯑turally diſpoſed to retaliate in their own way. Theſe oppreſſions, perhaps injudiciouſly con⯑ducted, prepared the way for popery: juſt as the ſeverities of Mary, at the ſucceſſion of Eliſabeth made the proteſtants more violent againſt the papiſts. In the reign of Henry the eighth, the monaſteries were deſtroyed, and the wealth of the church, in which it's ſtrength conſiſted, was diſſipated. Three of the abbots, in the courſe of that tranſaction, were unjuſtly put to death^h. Six biſhops, amongſt which were Mary's favorites, and the great champions of her religion, Bonner and Gardiner, were deprived, inſulted, and impriſoned, during the reign of Edward the ſixthⁱ. In the ſame reign, the queen, while princeſs, was abſolutely forbidden to hear maſs; a misfortune, in her ideas, almoſt equal [60] to the loſs of life^k: and her friends who pri⯑vately interpoſed to defeat the execution of this dreadful interdiction, were ſent to the Tower^l.

But as no religion can expiate, ſo no provo⯑cation can juſtify, no reſentment can excuſe, that uninterrupted ſeries of deliberate barbarity which marks every page of her unproſperous annals with martyrdoms, hardly to be parallel⯑ed in the pagan perſecutions of primitive chriſ⯑tianity. If in the two preceding reigns, many venerable prelates of Mary's communion had been injuriouſly treated, or even put to death, for conſcientious diſobedience, yet none of them were inhumanly dragged to the flames like the meek Latimer or the learned Rid⯑ley. It is alſo allowed, that to burn heretics was an eſtabliſhed doctrine of the catholic re⯑ligion. But in what age of the ſame religion, or in what country, were theſe puniſhments ever executed with ſo many circumſtances of cruelty? Her attempt to reſtore the monaſte⯑ries, however conformable to her ſyſtem, was a meaſure, which tended only to bring back national poverty with national ſuperſtition: for [61] it is certain, that Henry's diſtribution of the monaſtic revenues into private hands, although dictated by ſelfiſh and fordid motives, founded the preſent greatneſs of England. In the mean time it will be but charitable to grant, that her private life was confeſſedly blameleſs and un⯑blemiſhed. I will not ſay whether it was her fault or her unhappineſs, that the conſtancy of her attachments ſeldom met with ſuitable re⯑turns of gratitude and affection. In this at leaſt ſome goodneſs of heart appears, that no⯑thing affected her ſo much, as the unkindneſs of thoſe whom ſhe beſt loved. She poſſeſſed a firmneſs of mind, which deſerved better times; and a vigour of underſtanding, which was im⯑peded by religious prejudices. Her merits, whatever they were, ſeem to have been over⯑looked in her misfortunes: and as the latter were aggravated, ſo the former were obliterat⯑ed, by that blaze of proſperity which ſur⯑rounded the ſucceeding reign.

SECT. III.

IN the year 1555, the princeſs Elizabeth, afterwards queen, having been before treated with much inſolence and inhumanity, was placed under the care and inſpection of ſir Thomas Pope^a. Mary cheriſhed that an⯑tipathy to the certain heireſs of her crown and her ſucceſſor, which all princes who have no children to ſucceed naturally feel. But the moſt powerful cauſe of Mary's hatred of the princeſs, with whom ſhe formerly lived in ſome degree of friendſhip^b, ſeems to have ariſen from Courtney, earl of Devonſhire.

The perſon, addreſs, and other engaging ac⯑compliſhments^c of this young nobleman, had [63] made a manifeſt impreſſion on the queen^d. Other circumſtances alſo contributed to ren⯑der him an object of her affection; for he was an Engliſhman, and nearly allied to the crown; and conſequently could not fail of proving acceptable to the nation. The earl was no ſtranger to theſe favorable diſpoſi⯑tions of the queen towards him^e. Yet, he ſeemed rather to attach himſelf to the prin⯑ceſs; whoſe youth and lively converſation had more prevailing charms than the pomp and power of her ſiſter^f. This preference not only produced a total change in Mary's ſenti⯑ments which regard to the earl, but forced her openly to declare war againſt Elizabeth.

The ancient quarrel between their mothers remained deeply rooted in the malignant heart of the queen^g: and ſhe took advantage from the declaration made by parliament in favor of Catharine's marriage^h, to repreſent her ſiſter's birth as illegitimate. Elizabeth's in⯑clination to the proteſtant religion ſtill fur⯑ther heightened Mary's averſion: it offended her bigottry, diſappointed her exſpectations, [64] and diſconcerted her politics. Theſe cauſes of diſlike, however, might perhaps have been forgotten by degrees, or, at leaſt, would have ended in ſecret diſguſt. But when the queen found that the princeſs had obſtructed her de⯑ſigns in a matter of the moſt intereſting nature; female reſentment, founded on female jealouſy, and exaſperated by pride, could no longer be ſuppreſſed.

So much more forcible, and of ſo much more conſequence in public affairs, are private feelings, and the ſecret undiſcerned opera⯑tions of the heart, than the moſt important political reaſons. Monſieur Noailles, however, the French embaſſador at the court of Eng⯑land during this period, with the true dignity of a myſterious ſtateſman, ſeems unwilling to refer the queen's diſpleaſure to ſo ſlight a mo⯑tive: and aſſigns a more profound intrigue as the foundation of Courtenay's diſgrace. Do⯑meſtic incidents operate alike in every ſtation of life; and often form the greateſt events of hiſtory. Princes have their paſſions in com⯑mon with the reſt of mankind.

Elizabeth being now become the public and avowed object of Mary's averſion, was openly treated with much diſreſpect and in⯑ſult. She was forbidden to take place, in the [65] preſence chamber, of the counteſs of Lenox and the dutcheſs of Suffolk, as if her legiti⯑macy had been dubiousⁱ. This doctrine had been inſinuated by the chancellor Gardiner, in a ſpeech before both houſes of parliament^k. Among other arguments enforcing the neceſ⯑ſity of Mary's marriage, he particularly in⯑ſiſted on the failure of the royal lineage; art⯑fully remarking, that none of Henry's deſcen⯑dants remained, except the queen, and the princeſs Eliſabeth^l. Her friends were neglect⯑ed or affronted. And while her amiable qua⯑lifications every day drew the attention of the young nobility, and rendered her univerſally popular, the malevolence of the vindictive queen ſtill encreaſed. The princeſs therefore thought it moſt prudent to leave the court: and before the begining of 1554, retired to her houſe at Aſhridge in Hertfordſhire^m.

In the mean time, Sir Thomas Wyat's rebel⯑lion, abovementioned, broke out, in oppoſition [66] to the queen's match with Philip of Spain. It was immediately pretended, that the princeſs Eliſabeth, together with lord Courteney, was privately concerned in this dangerous conſpi⯑racy, and that ſhe had held a correſpondence with the traitor Wyat. Accordinglyⁿ, ſir Ed⯑ward Haſtings, afterwards lord Loughborough, ſir Thomas Cornwallis, and ſir Richard South⯑well, attended by a troop of horſe, were ordered to bring her to the court. They found the princeſs ſick, and even confined to her bed, at Aſhridge^o. Notwithſtanding, under pretence of the ſtrictneſs of their commiſſion, they com⯑pelled her to riſe: and, ſtill continuing very weak and indiſpoſed, ſhe proceeded in the queen's litter by ſlow journies to London^p. At the court, they kept her confined and with⯑out [67] company, for a fortnight: after which, bi⯑ſhop Gardiner, who well knew her predomi⯑nant diſpoſition to cabal and intrigue, with nineteen others of the council, attended to examine her concerning the rebellion of which ſhe was accuſed. She poſitively denied the accuſation. However they informed her, it was the queen's reſolution the ſhould be com⯑mitted to the Tower, till further enquiries could be made^q. The princeſs immediately wrote to the queen, earneſtly entreating that ſhe might not be impriſoned in the Tower, and concluding her letter thus: ‘"As for that Traytor Wiat, he might paraventur write me a letter; but on my faith I never re⯑ceved any from him. And as for the copie of my letter ſent to the Frenche king, I pray God confound me eternally, if ever I ſent him word, meſſage, token, or letter, by any menes^r"’ Her oaths, and her re⯑peated proteſtations of innocence were all in⯑effectual. She was conveyed to the tower, and ignominiouſly conducted through the Traitor's gate^s.

At her firſt commitment, only three men and three women of the queen's ſervants, were [68] appointed for her attendants. But even theſe were forbidden to bring her meat; and ſhe was waited on, for this purpoſe, by the lieu⯑tenant's ſervants, or even by the common ſoldiers. But afterwards, two yeomen of her chamber, one of her robes, two of her pantry and ewry, one of her buttery, one of her cellar, another of her larder, and two of her kitchen, were allowed, by permiſſion of the privy council, to ſerve at her table. No ſtranger, or viſitor, was admitted into her preſence. The conſtable of the tower, ſir John Gage, treated her very ſeverely, and watched her with the utmoſt vigilance. Many of the other priſoners, committed to the ſame place on account of the rebellion, were often exa⯑mined about her concern in the conſpiracy: and ſome of them were put to the rack, by way of extorting an accuſation. Her inno⯑cence however was unqueſtionable: for al⯑though Wyat himſelf had accuſed her, in hopes to have ſaved his own life by means of ſo baſe and ſcandalous an artifice, yet he afterwards denied that ſhe had the leaſt know⯑ledge of his deſigns; and leſt thoſe denials which he made at his examinations might be inſidiouſly ſuppreſſed, and his former depo⯑ſitions alledged againſt her adopted in their ſtead, he continued to make the ſame declara⯑tions [69] openly on the ſcaffold at the time of his execution^t,

There was a pretence, much inſiſted on by Gardiner, that Wyat had conveyed to her a bracelet, in which the whole ſcheme of the plot was incloſed. But Wyat acquitted her of this and all other ſuſpicions^u. After a cloſe impriſonment of ſome days, by the generous interceſſion of lord Chandois, lieutenant of the tower, it was granted that ſhe might ſometimes walk in the queen's lodgings¹⁰, in the preſence of the conſtable, the lieutenant, and three of the queen's ladies; yet on condi⯑tion that the windows ſhould be ſhut. She then was indulged with walking in a little garden, for the ſake of freſh air: but all the ſhutters which looked towards the garden were ordered to be kept cloſe.

Such were their jealouſies, that a little boy of four years old who had been accuſtomed every day to bring her flowers, was ſeverely threatened if he came any more; and the child's father was ſummoned and rebuked by [70] the conſtable. But lord Chandois being ob⯑ſerved to treat the princeſs with too much reſpect, he was not any longer entruſted with the charge of her; and ſhe was committed to the cuſtody of ſir Henry Bedingfield, of Ox⯑burgh in Norfolk^x, a perſon whom ſhe had never ſeen nor knew before. He brought with him a new guard of one hundred ſoldiers, cloathed in blue; which the princeſs obſerv⯑ing, aſked with her uſual livelineſs, If lady Jane's ſcaffold was yet taken away?

About the end of May ſhe was removed from the tower under the command of ſir Henry Bedingfield, and lord Williams of Thame, to the royal manor or palace at Wood⯑ſtock^y. The firſt night of her journey ſhe lay at Richmond; where being watched all night by the ſoldiers, and all acceſs of her own private attendants utterly prohibited, ſhe [71] began to be convinced, that orders had been given to put her privately to death. The next day ſhe reached Windſor, where ſhe was lodged in the Dean's houſe near ſaint George's collegiate chapel. She then paſſed to lord Williams's ſeat at Ricot in Oxford⯑ſhire, where ſhe lay; and ‘"was verie prince⯑lie entertained both of knights and ladies."’ But Bedingfield was highly diſguſted at this gallant entertainment of his priſoner. During their journey, lord Williams and another gen⯑tleman playing at cheſs, the princeſs accident⯑ally came in, and told them ſhe muſt ſtay to ſee the game played out; but this liberty Bed⯑ingfield would not permit^z.

Arriving at Woodſtock, ſhe was lodged in the gatehouſe of the palace; in an apartment remaining complete within theſe fifty years with it's original arched roof of Iriſh oak, curiouſly carved, painted blue ſprinkled with gold, and to the laſt retaining it's name of Queen Elizabeth's chamber ^a. Hollingſhead [72] gives us three lines which ſhe wrote with a diamond on the glaſs of her window; and [73] Hentzner, in his itinerary of 1598^b, has re⯑corded a ſonnet, which ſhe had written with a pencil on her window ſhutter. In the Bodleian Library at Oxford^c, there is an Engliſh Tranſlation of ſaint Paul's Epiſtles, printed in the black letter, which the prin⯑ceſs uſed while ſhe was here impriſoned; in a blank leaf of which, the following para⯑graph, written with her own hand, and in the pedantry of the times, yet remains. ‘"I walke many times into the pleaſant fieldes of the holye ſcriptures; where I plucke up the goodlieſome herbs of ſentences by pruning, eate them by reading: chawe them by muſ⯑ing: and laie them up at length in the hie [74] ſeate of memorie, by gathering them to⯑gether. That ſo having taſted the ſweetenes, I maye the leſſe perceave the bitterneſſe of this miſerable life."’ The covers are of black ſilk; on which ſhe had amuſed hesſelf with curiouſly working, or emboſſing, the follow⯑ing inſcriptions and devices in gold twiſt. On one ſide, on the border, or edge, CAE⯑LUM PATRIA. SCOPUS VITAE XPVS. CHRISTO VIVE. In the middle a heart; and about it, ELEVA COR SURSUM IBI UBI E. C. [i. e. eſt Chriſtus.] On the other ſide, on the border, BEATUS QUI DIVI⯑TIAS SCRIPTURAE LEGENS VERBA VERTIT IN OPERA. In the middle a ſtar, and about it, VICIT OMNIA PER⯑TINAX VIRTUS E. C. [i. e. Eliſabethae Captivae; or, Eliſabetha Captiva.] One is pleaſed to hear theſe circumſtances, trifling and unimportant as they are, which ſhew us how this great and unfortunate lady, who be⯑came afterwards the heroine of the Britiſh throne, the favorite of her people, and the terror of the world, contrived to relieve the tedious hours of her penſive and ſolitary con⯑finement. She had however little opportu⯑nity for meditation or amuſement. She was cloſely guarded: yet ſometimes ſuffered to walk into the gardens of the palace. In this ſituation, ſays Hollingſhead, ‘"no marvell, if [75] ſhe hearing upon a time out of hir gardin at Woodſtocke a certaine milkmaide ſing⯑ing pleaſantlie, wiſhed herſelf to be a milk⯑maide, as ſhe was; ſaying that her caſe was better, and life merrier^d."’

After being confined here for many months, ſhe procured a permiſſion to write to the queen: but her importunate keeper Beding⯑field intruded, and overlooked what ſhe wrote^e. At length, king Philip interpoſed, and begged that ſhe might be removed to the court^f. But this ſudden kindneſs of Philip, who thought Eliſabeth a much leſs obnoxious character than his father Charles the fifth had conceived her [76] to have been, did not ariſe from any regular principle of real generoſity, but partly from an affectation of popularity^g; and partly from a refined ſentiment of policy, which made him foreſee, that if Eliſabeth was put to death, the next lawful heir would be Mary queen of Scots already betrothed to the dauphin of France, whoſe ſucceſſion would for ever join the ſceptres of England and France, and conſequently cruſh the growing intereſts of Spain^h.

In her firſt day's journey, from the manor of Woodſtock to lord Williams's at Ricot, a vio⯑lent ſtorm of wind happened; inſomuch, that her hood and the attire of her head were twice or thrice blown off. On this, ſhe begged to retire to a gentleman's houſe then at hand: but Bedingfield's abſurd and ſuperabundant circumſpection refuſed even this inſignificant requeſt; and conſtrained her, with much in⯑decorum, [77] to replace her head-dreſs under a hedge near the road. The next night they came to Mr. Dormer's, at Winge, in Buck⯑inghamſhire; and from thence to an inn at Colnebroke, where ſhe lay. At length ſhe arrived at Hampton-court, where the court then reſided, but was ſtill kept in the condi⯑tion of a priſoner. Here biſhop Gardiner, with others of the council, frequently per⯑ſuaded her to make a confeſſion, and ſubmit to the queen's mercy. Diſſimulation appears to have been a conſpicuous feature in Eliſa⯑beth's character. One night, when it was late, the princeſs was unexpectedly ſummon⯑ed, and conducted by torch light to the queen's bedchamber: where ſhe kneeled down before the queen, declaring herſelf to be a moſt faithful and true ſubject. She even went ſo far, as to requeſt the queen to ſend her ſome catholic treatiſes, which might confirm her faith, and inculcate doctrines different from thoſe which ſhe had been taught in the writ⯑ings of the reformers. The queen ſeemed ſtill to ſuſpect her ſincerity: but they parted on good terms. During this critical interview, Philip had concealed himſelf behind the tapeſ⯑try, that he might have ſeaſonably interpoſed, to prevent the violence of the queen's paſſio⯑nate [78] temper from proceeding to any extre⯑mitiesⁱ.

One week afterwards ſhe was releaſed from the formidable parade of guards and keepers^k. A happy change of circumſtances enſued; and ſhe was permitted to retire with ſir Thomas Pope^l to Hatfield-houſe in Hertfordſhire, then a royal palace^m. At parting the queen began to [79] ſhew ſome ſymptoms of reconciliation: ſhe recommended to her ſir Thomas Pope, as a perſon with whom the princeſs was well ac⯑quainted, and whoſe humanity, prudence, and other valuable qualifications were all cal⯑culated to render her new ſituation perfect⯑ly agreeableⁿ; and at the ſame time ſhe preſented her with a ring worth ſeven hundred crowns^o.

But before I proceed further in this part of my narrative, I ſtop to mention a circum⯑ſtance unnoticed by our hiſtorians: which is, that ſir Thomas Pope in conjunction with others, had ſome concern about the perſon of the princeſs Elizabeth, even when ſhe firſt retired from the court, in diſgrace, to her houſe at Aſhridge; and before her troubles commenced, occaſioned by Wyat's rebellion; all which I have already related at large. When that rebellion broke out, Mary wrote to the princeſs then ſick at Aſhridge, art⯑fully requeſting her immediate attendance at the court. Elizabeth's governors at this time, whoſe names are no where particularly mentioned, waiting every day for her reco⯑very, [80] very compaſſionately declared it unſafe yet to remove her. And the princeſs herſelf in the mean time, ſignified by letter her indiſ⯑poſition to the queen; begging that her journey to the court might be deferred for a few days, and proteſting her abhorrence of Wyat's ſeditious practices. Her governors likewiſe, on their parts, apprehending that this tenderneſs towards their miſtreſs might be interpreted in a bad ſenſe, diſpatched a letter to biſhop Gardiner, lord chancellor; acquainting him with her condition, and avowing their readineſs to receive the queen's commands. An original draught or copy of this letter in Sir Thomas Pope's own hand, with ſeveral corrections and interlineations by the ſame, is now preſeved in the Britiſh Muſeum^p: from which circumſtance it is manifeſt that he was at this time one of theſe [81] governors or attendants; but in what depart⯑ment or capacity, I know not. However it [82] is evident that he was removed from this charge, when the princeſs, notwithſtanding her infirm ſtate of health, was hurried up to the court by Southwell, Cornwallis, and Haſtings: nor do we find, that from that time he had the leaſt concern with her during her impriſonment in the tower and at Wood⯑ſtock, and the reſt of thoſe undeſerved per⯑ſecutions, which preceded her enlargement and final removal to Hatfield.

To this lady ſir Thomas Pope behaved with the utmoſt tenderneſs and reſpect: re⯑ſiding with her at Hatfield, rather as an indulgent and affectionate guardian, than as an officious or rigorous governor. Although ſtrict orders were given that the maſs alone ſhould be uſed in he family, yet he connived [83] at many proteſtant ſervants, whom ſhe retained about her perſon^p. Yet Sir John Harrington ſays, that his father, a proteſtant, was impri⯑ſoned in the tower for twelve months, and fined one thouſand pounds, for carrying a let⯑ter to the princeſs, and expreſſing his good wiſhes for her proſperity: and that, as if the hereſy of a maid of honor could do any great harm, his mother, who was one of her favo⯑rite attendants, was removed from that ſituati⯑on, as a profeſſed heretic, by the command of biſhop Gardiner^q.

Nor was ſir Thomas Pope wanting on pro⯑per occaſions, in ſtudiouſly ſhewing her ſuch marks of regard and deference as her ſtation and quality demanded. This appears from the following anecdote, which alſo marks his character^r.

Two of the fellows of Trinity college in Oxford, juſt founded by him, had violated one of it's ſtricteſt ſtatutes, and were accordingly expelled by the preſident, and Society. Upon [84] this they repaired to their founder, then at Hatfield with the princeſs Eliſabeth, humb⯑ly petitioning a readmittance into his college. Sir Thomas Pope probably was not a little perplexed on this occaſion; for although diſ⯑poſed to forgiveneſs, yet he was unwilling to be the firſt who ſhould openly countenance or pardon an infringement of laws which himſelf had made. But perceiving a happy opportu⯑nity of adjuſting the difficulty, by paying at the ſame time a handſome compliment to the princeſs, with much addreſs he referred the matter to her gracious arbitration; and ſhe was pleaſed to order, that they ſhould imme⯑diately be reſtored to their fellowſhips. In conſequence of this determination, he wrote the following letter to the Preſident of the college.

Nor did ſir Thomas Pope think it incon⯑ſiſtent with his truſt, to gratify the princeſs on ſome occaſions with the faſhionable amuſe⯑ments of the times; even at his own ex⯑pence, and at the hazard of offending the queen. This we learn from a paſſage in a curious manuſcript chronicle^u. ‘"In Shrove⯑tide, 1556, ſir Thomas Pope made for the ladie Eliſabeth all at his owne coſtes, a greate and rich maſkinge in the greate halle at Hatfelde; wher the pageaunts were marvellouſly furniſhed. There were tha [...] twelve minſtrels antickly diſguiſed; with forty-ſix or more gentlemen and ladies, [87] many of them knights or nobles, and ladies of honor, apparelled in crimſin ſattin, em⯑brothered uppon with wrethes of golde and garniſhed with bordures of hanging perle. And the deviſe of a caſtell of clothe of gold, ſett with pomegranates about the battlements, with ſhields of knights hang⯑ing therefrom, and ſix knights in rich harneis turneyed. At night the cuppboard in the halle was of twelve ſtages main⯑lie furniſhed with garniſh of gold and ſilver veſſul, and a banket of ſeventie diſhes, and after a voidee of ſpices and ſut⯑tleties with thirty ſpyſe plates, all at the chardgis of ſir Thomas Pope. And the next day the play of HOLOPHERNES. But the queen percaſe myſliked theſe folliries, as by her letters to ſir Thomas Pope hit did appear, and ſo their diſguiſinges were ceaſed."’

The princeſs was notwithſtanding ſome⯑times ſuffered to make excurſions, partly for pleaſure, and partly for paying her compli⯑ments at court: and on theſe occaſions ſhe was attended in a manner ſuitable to her rank. Strype tells us, from the ſame manu⯑ſcript journal of memorable occurrences, writ⯑ten [88] about thoſe times^w, that on February the twenty-fifth, 1557, ‘"The lady Eliza⯑beth came riding from her houſe at Hat⯑field to London, attended with a great com⯑panie of lords, and nobles, and gentle⯑men, unto her place, called Somerſet-place beyond Strond-bridge, to do her duty to the queen. And on the twenty-eighth ſhe repaired unto her grace at Whitehall with many lords and ladies."’ And again, in March, the ſame year. ‘"Aforenoon the lady Elizabeth's grace took her horſe and rode to her palace of Shene; with many lords, knights, ladies, and gentlemen, and a good⯑ly companie of horſe^x"’. In April the ſame year, ſhe was eſcorted from Hatfield to En⯑field-chaſe, by a retinue of twelve ladies clothed in white ſattin on ambling palfries, and twenty yeomen in green, all on horſe back, that her grace might hunt the hart. At entering the chaſe, or foreſt, ſhe was met by fifty archers in ſcarlet boots and yellow caps, armed with gilded bows; one of whom preſented her a ſilver-headed arrow, winged with peacock's feathers. Sir Thomas Pope had the deviſing of this ſhow. By way of cloſing the ſport, or rather the ceremony, the princeſs was grati⯑fied [89] with the privilege of cutting the throat of a buck^y. In the ſame month ſhe was viſited by the queen at Hatfield: when the great chamber was adorned with a ſumptuous ſuit of tapeſtry, called the Hanginge of the ſiege of Antioch, and after ſupper a play was performed by the choir-boys of Saint Paul's^z.

In the ſummer of the ſame year, the prin⯑ceſs paid a viſit to the queen at Richmond. She went by water from Somerſet-place in the queen's barge; which was richly hung with garlands of artificial flowers, and cover⯑ed with a of canopy green ſarcenet wrought with branches of eglantine in embroidery, and powdered with bloſſoms of gold. In the barge ſhe was accompanied by ſir Thomas Pope, and four ladies of her chamber. Six boats attended on this proceſſion, filled with her highneſs's retinue, habited in ruſſet da⯑maſke and blue embroidered ſattin taſſelled and ſpangled with ſilver, with bonnets of cloth of ſilver plumed with green feathers. She was received by the queen in a ſump⯑tuous pavilion, made in form of a caſtle, with cloth of gold and purple velvet, in the labyrinth of the gardens. The walls, or [90] ſides of the pavilion were chequered into compartments, in each of which was alter⯑nately a lily in ſilver and a pomegranate in gold. Here they were entertained at a royal banquet; in which was introduced a ſottletie ^a of a pomegranate-tree bearing the arms of Spain. There were many minſtrels, but no maſking or dancing. Before the banquet, the queen was long in conſultation with ſir Tho⯑mas Pope. In the evening the princeſs with all her company returned, as they came, to Somerſet-place; and the next day retired to Hatfield^b. During her reſidence at Hatfield, the princeſs was alſo preſent at a royal Chriſtmas, kept with great ſolemnity by the queen and king Philip at Hampton-court. On Chriſtmas-eve, the great hall of the pa⯑lace was illuminated with a thouſand lamps curiouſly diſpoſed. The princeſs ſupped at the ſame table in the hall with the king and queen, next the cloth of ſtate: and after ſup⯑per, and ſerved with a perfumed napkin and plates of confects by the lord Paget. But ſhe retired to her ladies, before the revels; maſking, and diſguiſings began. On ſaint Stephen's day ſhe heard mattins in the queen's cloſet adjoining to the chapel, where ſhe was [91] attired in a robe of white ſattin, ſtrung all over with large pearls. On the twenty ninth day of December, ſhe ſate with their ma⯑jeſties and the nobility at a grand ſpectacle of juſting, when two hundred ſpears were broken. Half of the combatants were ac⯑coutred in the Almaine, and half in the Spaniſh faſhion^c. Thus our chronicler, who is fond of minute deſcription. But theſe and other particularities, inſignificant as they ſeem, which he has recorded ſo carefully, are a vindication of Queen Mary's character in the treatment of her ſiſter: they prove, that the princeſs, during her reſidence at Hatfield, lived in ſplendor and affluence, that ſhe was often admitted to the diverſions of the court, and that her preſent ſituation was by no means a ſtate of oppreſſion and impriſonment, as it has been re⯑preſented by moſt of our hiſtorians.

We have before ſeen that ſir Thomas Pope, during his attendance on this lady, was engaged in the foundation of his college. An undertaking of ſuch a nature, could not fail of attracting the attention of the young Eliſabeth; whoſe learned education and pre⯑ſent ſituation naturally intereſted her in the progreſs of a work ſo beneficial to the in⯑creaſe [92] of her favorite purſuits, and carried on by one with whom ſhe was ſo nearly con⯑nected. Accordingly this ſubject was often matter of converſation between them, as ap⯑pears from part of a letter written by ſir Tho⯑mas Pope: which alſo ſtill further proves the friendly terms on which they lived together. ‘"The princeſs Eliſabeth her grace, whom I ſerve here, often aſkyth me about the courſe I have devyſed for my ſcollers: and that part of myne eſtatutes reſpectinge ſtudie I have ſhewn to her, which ſhe likes well. She is not only gracious, but moſt lerned, as ye right well know^d."’

[93] While ſir Thomas Pope was concerned in this ſuperintendance of the princeſs, he re⯑ceived a letter from Heath, archbiſhop of York and lord chancellor, the biſhops of Rocheſter and Ely, lord Arundel, and ſir Henry Jernegan, dated July the thirtieth, 1556, by which it appears, that the privy council placed much confidence in his pene⯑tration and addreſs, and greatly depended on [94] his ſkilful management of her highneſs at this critical period.

In conſequence of Wyat's unſucceſsfull at⯑tempt, new efforts were made to foment a ſecond inſurrection. Many of Wyat's adhe⯑rents, of which the principal was one Dudley Aſhton, had fled into France where they were well entertained. Aſhton being connected with both kingdoms ſent over from France one Cleyberye, a condemned perſon, who pre⯑tended to be the earl of Devonſhire. The conſpirators at the ſame time, in the letters and proclamations which they diſperſed, made uſe of the lady Eliſabeth's name, and pro⯑pagated many ſcandalous inſinuations againſt her reputation and honour^e. They proceeded ſo far, as at Ipſwich to proclaim lord Courte⯑ney and the princeſs, king and queen of Eng⯑land^f. In how licentious a manner her cha⯑racter was abuſed, appears from a curious manuſcript paper preſerved in the Britiſh Mu⯑ſeum, entitled, ‘"A relation how one Cleber, 1556, proclaimed the ladie Eliſabethe quene, and her beloved bedfellow, lord Edwarde Courtneye, kynge^g."’ It was thought pro⯑per [95] that the truth of this affair ſhould be made known to the princeſs; and as the communication of it was a matter of ſome delicacy, and that miſrepreſentations might be prevented, the council above-mentioned order ſir Thomas Pope, ‘"Becauſe this mat⯑ter is ſpread abroad, and that paradventure, many conſtructions and diſcourſes will be made thereof, we have thought meet to ſignifie the whole circumſtances of the caſe unto you, to be by you opened to the ladie Eliſabeth's grace at ſuch time as ye ſhall thinke moſt convenient. To the end it may appear unto her, how little theſe men ſtick, by falſhood and untruthe, to compaſs their purpoſe: not letting, for that intent to abuſe the name of her grace, or any others: which their deviſes neverthe⯑leſs are (god be thanked) by his goodneſs diſcovered from time to time, to their ma⯑jeſties perſeverance, and confuſion of their enemies. And ſo we bid you hertily well to fare. From Eltham the xxxth of July, 1556. Your loving friends, &c^h."’

In conſequence of ſir Thomas Pope's ex⯑planation, the queen herſelf wrote a letter to [96] the princeſs, in which ſhe expreſſed her ab⯑horrence and diſbelief of theſe infamous for⯑geries. It was anſwered by the princeſs, who declared her deteſtation of the conſpi⯑rators, and diſclaimed the leaſt knowledge of their malicious deſigns. Undoubtedly having ſuffered ſo ſeverely, and perhaps unjuſtly, in the affair of Wyat, ſhe judged it expedient to clear her character even from the moſt improbable ſuſpicions. Commiſſioners were immediately appointed for examining into this conſpiracy, ſir Francis Englefield the comptroller, ſir Edward Waldegrave, ſir Henry Jernegan, ſir Edward Haſtings, and Cordall the queen's ſollicitor; and ſeveral of the parties were apprehended, and condemned at Guildhallⁱ. When war was next year pro⯑claimed againſt France, this ſecret concurrence of the French court, with the machinations of Dudley Aſhton and his accomplices, was ex⯑preſſly ſpecified, amongſt other articles in the declaration^k.

Soon afterwards, Eric king of Sweden ſent by his ambaſſador, a meſſage ſecretly to the princeſs at Hatfield, with a propoſal of marriage. King Philip had juſt before pro⯑poſed [97] to the queen to marry her to the duke of Savoy^l; with a view perhaps of retaining the duke who was an able general, in his intereſts againſt France, with which Philip was at this time engaged in open hoſtilities. This propoſal of the king of Sweden ſhe wiſely rejected, becauſe it was not conveyed to her by the queen's directions. But to this objection the embaſſador anſwered, that the king of Sweden his maſter, as a man of honor and a gentleman, thought it moſt proper to make the firſt application to her⯑ſelf: and that having by this preparatory ſtep obtained her conſent, he would next, as a king, mention the affair in form to her majeſty. But the final anſwer of princeſs was an abſolute denial: and ſhe deſired the meſſenger to acquaint his maſter, that as ſhe could not liſten to any propoſals of that na⯑ture, unleſs made by the queen's advice or authority; ſo ſhe could not but declare, that if left to her own will, ſhe would always pre⯑fer a ſingle condition of life. The affair ſoon came to the queen's ears; who ſending for ſir Thomas Pope to court, received from him an entire account of this ſecret tranſac⯑tion; ordering ſir Thomas at the ſame time to write to the princeſs, and acquaint her [98] how much ſhe was ſatisfied with this prudent and dutiful anſwer to the king of Sweden's propoſition. Sir Thomas Pope very ſoon afterwards returned to his charge at Hatfield; when the queen commanded him, not only to repeat this approbation of the conduct of the princeſs relating to the propoſed match from Sweden, but to receive from her own mouth the reſult of her ſentiments concerning it; and at the ſame time to take an opportunity of ſounding her affections concerning the duke of Savoy, without mentioning his name. The imperial ambaſſadors Mountmorency lord of Courieres, and Bouchard, were ſtill in England, waiting for the event of the lat⯑ter negociation^m. For the Emperor Charles the fifthⁿ, who was now become her friend, and had before intereſted himſelf in her fa⯑vor, was anxious, by ſuch an important connection, to form a potent and laſting alliance between the Britiſh and Imperial crowns. But I ſhall inſert ſir Thomas Pope's letter, written in conſequence of this commiſ⯑ſion, to the queen or council; by which he ſeems perfectly to have underſtood Eliſabeth's real thoughts and diſpoſition.

Courtney earl of Devonſhire being now dead^s, the queen grew leſs jealous of the princeſs, and ſeemed almoſt perfectly recon⯑ciled. In November, 1556, ſhe was invited to court; and accordingly came to London with much parade^t. The principal reaſon [104] of this invitation, was formally to propoſe to her in perſon a marriage with Philibert Emanuel, the duke of Savoy, which ſir Tho⯑mas Pope, by the queen's commands, had before hinted at a diſtance, as we have ſeen in the preceding letter. This propoſal the princeſs declined; but diſguiſed her refuſal with the ſame earneſt profeſſions of her un⯑changeable devotion to a ſtate of virginity, which ſhe had before made to ſir Thomas Pope on account of the Swediſh match. Great court was paid to the princeſs during her abode at Somerſet-houſe^u. Her amiable condeſcenſi⯑on, obliging addreſs, and agreeable converſati⯑on, procured her new intereſts and attach⯑ments, and even engaged the beſt part of the lords of the council in her favor.

Her beauty perhaps had no great ſhare in theſe acquiſitions; ſuch as it was, it ſtill re⯑tained ſome traces of ſickneſs, and ſome ſhades of melancholy, contracted in her late ſevere but uſeful ſchool of affliction.

[105] She found however that retirement beſt ſuited her circumſtances, as it did her inclina⯑tions; and although ſhe had been invited to paſs the whole winter in London, after a ſhort ſtay of one week only, ſhe returned to her former ſituation at Hatfield^w.

One ſhould have expected that the queen would have parted in diſguſt with the prin⯑ceſs, at this rejection of a match, recom⯑mended by Philip, and ſo convenient to his purpoſes. But it appears, that the queen was extremely backward in promoting her huſband's deſire of marrying Eliſabeth to the duke of Savoy. On this account, Philip employed Alphonſus, a franciſcan frier, his confeſſor, to confer with her majeſty on the ſubject of this marriage. She told him, that ſhe feared, without conſent of parlia⯑ment, neither her huſband Philip, nor the nation would be benefited by this alliance. She added, that ſhe could not in point of conſcience preſs this match upon her ſiſter; [106] meaning perhaps that it would be unjuſt, to force the princeſs to be married, after her reſolute declarations againſt wedlock; or im⯑proper and diſhonorable, to match her be⯑neath the dignity of a crowned head. The theological reaſonings of Alphonſus were too refined for the underſtanding, or too weak for the conſcience, of the queen, who ſtill remained inflexible in her former opinion. Upon this, Philip wrote to her in his uſual authoritative ſtyle, adviſing her to examine her own conſcience, and to conſider whether her opinion was founded in truth or in ob⯑ſtinacy; adding, that if the parliament op⯑poſed his requeſt, he ſhould lay the blame upon her^x. The queen, in her anſwer, beg⯑ged that he would, at leaſt, defer the mat⯑ter till he returned into England: and that then he might have a better opportunity of judging, what attention her reaſons de⯑ſerved. That otherwiſe, ſhe ſhould live in jealouſy of his affections, a ſtate of mind to her worſe than death; but which, to her great diſquietude, ſhe had already began to feel. She obſerved, with many expreſſions of deference to his ſuperior judgment and authority, that, whatever her conſcience might have determined, the matter could not be [107] poſſibly brought to any ſpeedy concluſion, as the duke would be immediately ordered into the field.

This letter which is in French, and print⯑ed by Strype^y, is no leſs a ſpecimen of her implicit ſubmiſſion to Philip, than the whole tranſaction is, at the ſame time, an in⯑ſtance of that unconquerable perſeverance which the queen exerted on certain occaſions. Philip perſiſted in his deſign: and with a view to accompliſh it more effectually, diſ⯑patched into England the ducheſs of Parma and the ducheſs of Lorraine, whom he com⯑miſſioned to bring back with them the prin⯑ceſs Eliſabeth into Flanders. Philip was in love with the ducheſs of Lorain; and the ſplendor of her table and retinue, which ſhe was unable to ſupport of herſelf, made the queen extremely jealous. She was therefore, whatever her companion might have been, a very improper ſuitreſs on this occaſion. The queen would not permit the two ducheſſes to viſit the princeſs at Hatfield; and every moment of their ſtay gave her infinite uneaſi⯑neſs. But they both ſoon returned, without ſucceſs^z.

[108] Perhaps the growing jealouſy of the queen, a paſſion which often ends in revenge againſt the beloved object, might at leaſt have ſome ſhare in dictating this oppoſition to Phi⯑lip^a. At length the remonſtrances of the queen, and the repeated diſapprobation of the princeſs, prevailed; and it is certain, what⯑ever Mary's real motives might be, that the propoſal was ſuddenly laid aſide. But Mary ſo far concurred with Philip's meaſures, as the next year to declare war againſt France^b; in which the duke of Savoy was Philip's chief commander at the battle and ſiege of ſaint Quintin^c.

As to the king of Sweden, he afterwards, in the year 1561, renewed his addreſſes to Eliſabeth, when ſhe was queen of England: at which time, he ſent her a royal preſent of [109] eighteen large pyed horſes, and two ſhips laden with riches^d. At the ſame time, ſome ſtationers of London had publiſhed prints of her majeſty Eliſabeth and the king of Swe⯑den in one piece. This liberty, as it was called, gave great offence to the queen, who ordered ſecretary Cecil to write to the lord mayor of London, enjoining him diligently to ſuppreſs all ſuch publications; as they implied an agreement of marriage between their majeſties. Cecil takes occaſion to add, ‘"her majeſtie hitherto cannot be induced, whereof we have cauſe to ſorrow, to allow of any marriadg with any manner of per⯑ſon^e."’ Soon afterwards the king of Swe⯑den was expected to pay the queen a viſit at Whitehall; and it is diverting to obſerve the perplexity and embarraſſment of the officers of ſtate about the manner of receiv⯑ing him at court, ‘"the queenes majeſtie being a maide. ^f."’

But ſhe ſtill perſiſted in thoſe vows of vir⯑ginity which ſhe had formerly made to ſir Thomas Pope at Hatfield; and conſtantly re⯑fuſed not only this, but other advantageous [110] matches. One of them was with the Duke D'Alenzon, whom ſhe refuſed, yet after ſome deliberation, becauſe he was only a boy of ſeventeen years of age, and ſhe almoſt in her fortieth year^g. A huſband, I ſuppoſe, al⯑though a young one, would have been at that time perhaps inconſiſtent with her pri⯑vate attachments; and the formalities of mar⯑riage might have laid a reſtraint on more agreeable gallantries with the earl of Eſſex and others, Bayle^h aſſigns a curious phyſical reaſon for Eliſabeth's obſtinate perſeverance in a ſtate of virginity.

The four laſt years of queen Mary's reign, which the princeſs Eliſabeth paſſed at Hat⯑field with ſir Thomas Pope, were by far the moſt agreeable part of her time during that turbulent period. For although ſhe muſt have been often diſquieted with many ſecret fears and apprehenſions, yet ſhe was here per⯑fectly at liberty, and treated with a regard due to her birth and expectations. In the mean time, to prevent ſuſpicions, ſhe pru⯑dently declined interfering in any ſort of buſineſs, and abandoned herſelf entirely to [111] books and amuſementsⁱ. The pleaſures of ſolitude and retirement were now become habitual to her mind; and ſhe principally employed herſelf in playing on the lute or virginals, embroidering with gold and ſilver, reading Greek, and tranſlating Italian. She was now continuing to profeſs that character which her brother Edward gave her, when he uſed to call her his ſweet ſiſter Temperance ^k. But ſhe was ſoon happily removed to a reign of unparalleled magnificence and proſperity.

Upon the acceſſion of the new queen, who was reſident at Hatfield when her ſiſter Mary died on November the ſeventeenth, 1558, it does not appear that ſir Thomas Pope was continued in the privy-council. This circumſtance may juſtly be interpreted to his honor. Eliſabeth, to prevent an alarm among the partiſans of the catholic communion, had prudently retained thirteen of Mary's privy counſellors. Theſe were, Heathe, archbiſhop of York, and lord chan⯑cellor; the marquis of Wincheſter, lord treaſurer; the earls of Arundel, Shrewſbury, Pembroke, and Derby; the lords Clinton, and Howard; ſir Thomas Cheyney, ſir William [112] Petre, ſir John Maſon, ſir Richard Sackville, and Doctor Wootton, dean of York and Canterbury^l. But moſt of theſe had com⯑plied with all the changes which were made in the national religion ſince the latter end of Henry's reign; and were ſuch dexterous adepts in the faſhionable art of adapting their principles to the variable complexion of the times, that they were ſtill employed in every new revolution.

SECT. IV.

WE have now done with ſir Thomas Pope's political character; and are entering on that moſt memorable circum⯑ſtance of his life, before incidentally men⯑tioned, by which he ſecured immortality to his name, and conferred a perpetual emolu⯑ment on his country; I mean, the foundation of Trinity college in Oxford. His good ſenſe and good diſpoſition led him to reflect, that he could not beſtow a competent pro⯑portion of thoſe riches which he had ſo largely received, with greater propriety, uti⯑lity, and generoſity, than in the ſervice of the public. I ſhall therefore make no apology for delivering at large a hiſtory of his pro⯑ceedings in forming and completing this li⯑beral deſign.

And perhaps there are ſome of my readers, who will be more pleaſed to view him in the milder and more amiable light of the father of ingenuous education, diſpenſing rewards to ſcience and virtue, than in the more active yet turbulent ſcenes of public life, diverſified only [114] by the vain viciſſitudes of human affairs, or fraught with the crimes and misfortunes of mankind.

About the year 1290, Richard de Hoton, prior, and the monks, of the cathedral con⯑vent of Durham, erected a college in the northern ſuburbs of Oxford, for the education of the novices of their monaſtery; to which it was conſidered as an appendage^a. This was af⯑terwards increaſed, with the addition of revenues and books, by Richard of Bury, biſhop of Dur⯑ham, in the year 1345. It was at length entire⯑ly rebuilt, more effectually eſtabliſhed, and more amply endowed, for eight benedictine monks and eight ſecular ſtudents, in the year 1370, by the munificence of Thomas Hatfield, biſhop of the ſame ſee^b. About the year 1541, this college was diſſolved by Henry the eighth^c: at which time, all its eſtates, its ſite, precinct, chapel, bellfry, buildings of all ſorts, [115] with the entire appurtenances of the ſame, were granted by the king to his new dean and chapter of Durham cathedral, which, as I preſume, they now poſſeſs^d. Its ſite only re⯑verted to the crown; for Edward the ſixth, in the ſeventh year of his reign, by letters patent dated February the fourth, 1552^e, granted the ſite of this college to George Owen, of Godſtowe, the king's phyſician, and William Martyn, gentleman.

On this ground ſir Thomas Pope determined to found his intended college. Accordingly, by indenture, dated February the twentieth, 1554^f, he purchaſed the premiſes of the ſaid Owen and Martyn. In the ſame year he ob⯑tained from Philip and Mary a royal licence, or charter, dated March the eigthth, 1554^g, empowering him to create and erect a certain college within the univerſity of Oxford, con⯑ſiſting of one preſident a prieſt, twelve fellows, four of whom ſhould be prieſts, and eight ſcholars^h: and liberally and ſufficiently to en⯑dow the ſame and their ſucceſſors with certain manors, lands, and revenues. In the ſame [116] charter, and with the eſtates and poſſeſſions therein recited, he likewiſe obtains licence of the king and queen to found and endow a ſchool at Hokenorton in the county of Oxford, to be called Jeſus Scolehouſe; and to give ſtatutes as well to the college, as to the firſt and ſecond maſters of the ſaid ſchoolⁱ. On the twenty⯑eighth day of March, 1555, by deed ſo dated^k, he declares his actual erection and eſtabliſhment of the ſaid college: and con⯑ſigns the ſite and place above-mentioned, to Thomas Slythurſte, S.T.B. Preſident: Ste⯑phen Markes, A.M. Robert Newton, John Barwyke, James Bell, Roger Criſpin, John Richardſon, Thomas Scotte, George Symp⯑ſon, Bachelors of Arts, Fellows: And John Arden, John Comporte, John Perte, and John Langſterre, Scholars. In the morals, learning, and ſtudious diligence of all which perſons, he therein declares that he much con⯑fides. [117] Reſerving to himſelf, at the ſame time, the right of nominating the remainder.

With this deed the founder himſelf, the ſame day, came to Oxford; and in conſequence of it, in his own perſon delivered poſſeſſion of the college to the ſaid Preſident, Fellows, and Scholars, in the preſence of John War⯑ner, vice-chancellor of the univerſity, war⯑den of All Souls college, and archdeacon of Cleveland, and of Ely^l; Owen Oglethorp, preſident of Magdalene, and dean of Wind⯑ſor^m; Robert Morwent, preſident of Corpus Chriſti; Walter Wryght, archdeacon of Ox⯑ford; John Browne, canon of Windſorⁿ; Ed⯑mund Powel, eſquire^o, Edward Love, John Bylling, Simon Perrot, John Heywood, Henry Bryan, Arthur Yeldard, John Myleward, John Edmundes, John Beresford, Ralph Dodmer, John Lawrence, Bartholomew Plott, Humfrey [118] Edmundes^p, gentlemen, and many others^q. In conſequence of this laſt-mentioned deed, by an inſtrument dated the ſame day and year, Thomas Slythurſte appoints Stephen Markes and Robert Newton, his lawful attornies, to enter, in his name and ſtead, into a certain meſſuage or building, with its appurtenances, in Oxford, called Trinity college, of the foundation of ſir Thomas Pope, knight; and of the ſame to take full and peaceable poſſeſ⯑ſion; and to keep and retain it for the uſes and purpoſes of the ſaid Thomas Slvthurſte, according to the force, form, and effect, of a certain grant made to him and others by the ſaid ſir Thomas Pope^r.

In May following, the founder furniſhed his college with neceſſaries and implements of every kind^s. To the library in particular he gave no inconſiderable collection of valu⯑able and coſtly books, both printed and ma⯑nuſcript^t. But above all, he adorned the [119] chapel, as appears by a deed dated the fifth of May, 1555^u, with ſilver veſſels, embroi⯑dered veſtments, copes of tiſſue, croſſes, and illuminated miſſals^w. The next year, he tranſmitted to the ſociety a body of ſtatutes, dated the firſt of May, 1556. On the eighth of the ſame month, he gave them one hun⯑dred pounds for a ſtock to begin with^x. Matters being thus duely prepared and ad⯑juſted, and his endowment^y of the college conſiſting of manors, lands, and impropria⯑tions, having effectually taken place before or upon the feaſt of the annunciation, 1556^z; the firſt preſident, fellows, and ſcholars, no⯑minated by himſelf, were formally and ac⯑tually [120] admitted within the chapel, on the thirtieth day of May, being the eve of Tri⯑nity Sunday, the ſame year, yiz. 1556. They were all, the graduates at leaſt, taken from dif⯑ferent colleges in Oxford; except one, who was of Cambridge. Their names, dignities, colleges, degrees, counties, and appointments in the new ſociety, as far as notices have oc⯑curred, are here ſpecified^a.

• PRESIDENT.
  • Thomas Slythurſte, S.T.B. Canon of Wind⯑ſor. County, Berkſhire.
• FELLOWS.
  • Arthur Yeldarde, Fellow of Pembroke-Hall, in Cambridge, A.M. Northumberland.—Appointed philoſophy-lecturer by the founder.
  • Stephen Markes, Fellow, and Rector, of Exeter College, in Oxford, A.M. Cornwall.—Appointed vice-preſident by the founder.
  • John Barwyke, of Magdalen College, in Ox⯑ford, A.M. Devonſhire.—Appointed dean by election.
  • [121] James Bell, Scholar of Corpus Chriſti College, in Oxford, A.B. Somerſetſhire.—Ap⯑pointed rhetoric-lecturer by election.
  • John Richardſon, Scholar of Queen's College, in Oxford, A.B. Cumberland.—Ap⯑pointed burſar by election.
  • George Sympſon, Scholar of Queen's College, in Oxford, A.B. Cumberland.
  • George Rudde, Scholar of Queen's College, in Oxford, A.B. Weſtmoreland.
  • Thomas Scotte, Scholar of Queen's College, in Oxford, A.B. Cumberland.
  • Roger Cryſpin, Fellow of Exeter College, in Oxford, A.B. Devonſhire.
  • Roger Evens, A.B. Cornwall.
  • John Perte, A.B. Warwickſhire.—Appointed burſar by election.
  • Robert Bellamie, of Exeter College, in Oxford, A.B. Yorkſhire.
• SCHOLARS.
  • John Langſterre, of Braſen-Noſe College, in Oxford, A.B. Yorkſhire.
  • Reginald Braye, A.B. Bedfordſhire.
  • John Arden, or Arderne, Oxfordſhire.
  • John Comporte, Middleſex.
  • [122] Robert Thraſke, Somerſetſhire.
  • William Saltmarſhe, Yorkſhire.
  • John Harrys, Glouceſterſhire.
  • — — —^b.

On ſaint Swithin's day, being the fifteenth of July, in the ſame year, the founder paid a viſit to his college. He was accompanied by the biſhops of Wincheſter and Ely, and other eminent perſonages. He diſmounted from his horſe at the college gate, where he was received by the preſident, who ſtood at his ſtirrup. At entering the gates he was ſa⯑luted in a long and dutiful oration by the vice-preſident: after which the burſars of⯑fered him a preſent of embroidered gloves. From thence he was conducted with the reſt of the company into the preſident's great chamber: the fellows and ſcholars ſtanding on either ſide, as he paſſed along the court. Having viewed the library and Grove, they proceeded to dinner in the hall, where a ſumptuous entertainment was provided. The preſident ſate on the left hand of the founder, [123] yet at ſome diſtance, and the reſt of the gueſts, and the ſociety, were placed according to their rank, and in their proper order. There were twelve minſtrels preſent in the hall; and among other articles of proviſion on this occaſion, four fat does, and ſix gallons of Muſcadel, are mentioned. The whole expence of the feaſt amounting to xijl. xiijs. ixd. After dinner they went to evening maſs in the chapel, where the preſident celebrated the ſervice, habited in the richeſt cope: and the founder offered at the altar a purſe full of angels. They then retired to the Burſary; where the founder paid into the hands of the Burſars all the coſts incurred by this viſit: and gave them beſides, at the ſame time, a ſilver goblet gilt, which being filled with hypocraſſe, he drank to the Burſars, and to all the company preſent. He then departed towards Windſor: but before he left the col⯑lege, gave with his own hands, to each of the ſcholars, one marc^c.

In November following, I find a letter to the preſident from the founder; in which, as likewiſe in eighteen others written after⯑wards^d, [124] are many marks of his attention to the affairs and economy of his college, and of his ſollicitude about ſettling every article of the new foundation in the moſt effectual manner: as alſo of his readineſs to aſſiſt on all neceſſary occaſions. In the letter juſt mentioned, among ſeveral other particulars, he tells the preſident, in conſequence of a converſation which had lately paſſed between them both at Tyttenhanger in Hertfordſhire, by what expedient certain extraordinary ex⯑pences of the college, in the late viſitation^e of [125] the univerſity by the deputies of cardinal Pole, and in ſome other inſtances, ſhould be diſ⯑charged. He commiſſions him to thank maſ⯑ter Rawes, a canon of Windſor^f, for a preſent of books intended for the library. He deſires the preſident would bargain for him with maſ⯑ter Freere^g, for one thouſand load of ſtone, to [126] be carried to the college for beginning a wall round the Grove. He talks of having moved my lord cardinal Pole's grace, for licence for three of the fellows to preach^h: a matter concerning which very rigid injunctions had been publiſhed, at the reſtoration of the ca⯑tholic religion by queen Mary. He mentions having ſent to the college, for the ſervice of the chapel, two pair of cenſers of one faſhion, two cruets, two candleſticks for the high altar, one ſhip, and one pax of ivory: ‘"truſting, or it be longe, ye ſhall have the lyke thynges of ſylver."’ He adds,

From other letters, written to the preſi⯑dent, it appears that during his life-time he paid all the univerſity expences of degrees, regencies and determinations, for the fellows and ſcholarsⁿ.

On the twentieth of January 1557, he ſent to the college for the ſecond time^o, and again on the twelfth of April following for the third time^p, various articles of coſtly fur⯑niture for the chapel and hall, conſiſting of rich copes, ſervice books, &c. as before; and ſeveral pieces of ſilver plate. The whole quantity of plate which he gave them at [129] theſe three ſeveral times, is as follows. A ſtanding cup of ſilver gilt, with a cover, em⯑boſſed with pomegrantes^q, and a ſheaf of arrows, weighing thirty-three ounces. Two gilt ſaltes, weighing thirty-nine ounces. Three cups of ſilver gilt, weighing more than thirty-one ounces. Twelve ſilver ſpoons beſide one before ſent, parcel-gilt, with knobs of ſculp⯑ture. Theſe were for the hall. For the chapel they received, two cruets of ſilver gilt, weighing nine ounces. An holy-water-ſtop and aſpergoire of ſilver parcel-gilt, weighing more than eighteen ounces. A ſacring bell of ſilver gilt, weighing five ounces. A pax of ſilver gilt, with a crucifix, and the images of Mary and John, weighing near ſeventeen ounces. Two pair of cenſers, for frankin⯑cenſe, [130] of ſilver parcel-gilt, weighing ſeventy ounces. A ſhip of ſilver with a ſpoon for frankinſence, parcel-gilt, weighing near eigh⯑teen ounces. Two chapel-baſons of ſilver par⯑cel-gilt weighing more than thirty ſeven ounces. A fair croſs of ſilver gilt, with images of Mary and John, garniſhed with chryſtal and precious ſtones, with a foot of ſilver gilt, weighing together, beſide the chry⯑ſtal and ſtones, twenty-four pounds and five ounces. Two candleſticks of ſilver, for the high altar, parcel-gilt, weighing near thirty-two ounces. A monſtrans of ſilver gilt, weigh⯑ing twenty-one ounces. A patin with a cha⯑lice of ſilver gilt, weighing twenty ounces. Another patin with a chalice of ſilver parcel⯑gilt, weighing thirteen ounces. A pipe of ſil⯑ver parcel-gilt, weighing thirteen ounces. He gave them beſides, by his laſt will, ſeveral other pieces of plate, for the ſervice of the hall, which I ſhall enumerate hereafter.

In September, 1557, he made conſiderable additions to the foundation; on the tenth of which month, he conveyed^r, or rather con⯑firmed to the Society the manors of Dun⯑thorp [131] and Seawell in Oxfordſhire. With theſe new revenues he ordains and endows five obits, or dirges, yearly to be ſung and celebrated as feſtivals, in his college^s. Theſe are, for queen Mary and her moſt noble progenitors, on the day of the aſſumption of the holy virgin; for dame Margaret his late wife, and Alice his daughter, deceaſed, on the day of the concep⯑tion of the holy virgin; for dame Elizabeth his preſent wife, on the day of the nativity of the holy virgin; and for William and Marga⯑ret, his father and mother, on the day of the annunciation of the holy virgin. And on Jeſus day, the ſeventh of Auguſt, he appoints an [132] Obit or dirge^t, annually to be celebrated, as well during his life, as after his deceaſe, for himſelf and all chriſtian ſouls. At which time, during his dirge and maſs, he orders that twelve poor men and twelve poor wo⯑men ſhall be preſent in the chapel, and after⯑wards receive each a competent allowance of money, bread, and drink, within the col⯑lege at the entrance into the hall: and after the maſs of his obſequie was ſung^u, that bread and drink be annually diſtributed the ſame day among the poor priſoners in Oxford. From the ſame revenues he likewiſe grants a [133] weekly allowance to the ſaid priſoners; with various other improvements, and augmenta⯑tions of former appointments. And becauſe he once intended to found a School at Hokenorton in Oxfordſhire; with the endowment intended for that purpoſe, he now founds from theſe lands, four additional ſcholars in his college: By which judicious alteration of his original plan, the number of the ſcholars was increaſed to twelve, and equalled to that of the fellows. He tells us that he rejected the ſcheme of founding a ſchool^w as an appendage to the college, being perſuaded that it would prove more beneficial to the public, to reſtore in ſome meaſure, and encreaſe the number of ſcholars in the univerſity of Oxford, of late much diminiſhed and ſtill continuing to de⯑cay, [134] than to multiply the number of gram⯑mar ſchools; eſpecially as thoſe ſituated in the neighbourhood of the place abovemen⯑tioned, although properly filled with learned maſters, were ſo little frequented and en⯑couraged.

In December, the ſame year^x, he declares his intention of building a commodious edi⯑fice at Garſington near Oxford, to which the ſociety might retire in time of peſtilence, then no uncommon malady. For this pur⯑poſe, in caſe he ſhould not accompliſh it in his life-time, as he intended, he left by his will five hundred marks, and the building, conſiſting of a fair quadrangle of ſtone, was accordingly raiſed after his death^y.

When ſir Thomas Pope had founded his college, the univerſity of Oxford compliment⯑ed him with their letters of thanks and acknowledgment, in conſideration of his hav⯑ing [135] added a new college to the former num⯑ber; which were delivered to the founder by the preſident^z. Indeed they had no ſmall reaſon, at this time, to acknowledge with pleaſure and gratitude this acceſſion to their conſtitution. Heylin very juſtly remarks, that queen Mary, in rebuilding the public ſchools at Oxford ‘"gave encouragement to two worthy gentlemen to add two new col⯑leges to the former, Trinity and ſaint John's. Had it not been for theſe Foun⯑dations, there had been nothing in this reign to have made it memorable, but only the misfortunes and calamities of it^a."’ He might have added, that this liberality [136] could not have been conferred at a more ſea⯑ſonable time on the univerſity. And of this ſir Thomas Pope was very ſenſible, as we have before ſeen, when he ſubſtituted an ad⯑ditional number of academical ſtudents in the place of a grammar-ſchool.

But that it may further appear, how much theſe encouragements were now wanted, it will be neceſſry to look backwards upon the ſtate of learning in England, particularly at Oxford; and from thence to trace its progreſs, and the cauſes of its decline, down to the times with which we are concerned. An en⯑quiry not leſs inſtructive than entertaining, and naturally connected with the preſent ſubject.

About the cloſe of the fifteenth century, a taſte for polite letters, under the patronage of the popes, began to be revived in Italy. But theſe liberal pontiffs did not conſider at the ſame time that they were undermining the pa⯑pal intereſt, and bringing on the Reforma⯑tion. This event is commonly called the Reſtoration of Learning; but it ſhould rather be ſtyled the reſtoration of good ſenſe and uſeful knowledge. Learning there had been before, but barbariſm ſtill remained. The [137] moſt acute efforts of human wit and penetra⯑tion had been exerted for ſome centuries, in the diſſertations of logicians and theologiſts; yet Europe ſtill remained in a ſtate of ſuper⯑ſtition and ignorance. What philoſophy could not perform, was reſerved to be complet⯑ed by claſſical literature, by the poets and orators of Greece and Rome, who alone could enlarge the mind, and poliſh the man⯑ners. Taſte and propriety, and a rectitude of thinking and judging, derived from theſe ſources, gave a new turn to the general ſyſ⯑tem of ſtudy: mankind was civilized, and re⯑ligion was reformed. The effects of this happy revolution by degrees reached England.

We find at Oxford, in the latter end of the fifteenth century, that the univerſity was filled with the jargon and diſputes of the Scotiſts and Thomiſts; and if at that time there were any ſcholars of better note, theſe were chiefly the followers of Wicliffe, and were conſequently diſcountenanced and perſecuted. The latin ſtyle then only known in the univerſity, was the technical language of the ſchoolmen, of caſuiſts, and metaphy⯑ſicians. At Cambridge, about 1485, nothing was taught but Alexander's Parva Lo⯑gicalia, the trite axioms of Ariſtotle, which were never rationally explained, and the pro⯑found [138] queſtions of John Scotus^b. At length ſome of our countrymen, the principal of which were Grocyn, Latymer, Lillye, Lina⯑cer, Tunſtall, Pace, and ſir Thomas More, ventured to break through the narrow bounds of ſcholaſtic erudition, and went over into Italy with a deſign of acquiring a knowledge in the Greek and Latin languages.^c. The Greek, in particular, was taught there with much perfection and purity, by many learned Greeks who had been driven from Conſtan⯑tinople. In 1488, Grocyn and Linacer left Oxford, and ſtudied Greek at Florence under the inſtruction of Demetrius Chalcondylas, and Politian; and at Rome under Hermo⯑laus Barbarus^d. Grocyn returned an accom⯑pliſhed maſter in the Greek, and became the firſt lecturer of that language at Oxford, but without any ſettled endowment^e. Ele⯑gance of ſtyle began now to be cultivated, and the ſtudy of the moſt approved antient writers became faſhionable.

[139] In 1496, Alcock biſhop of Ely, founded Jeſus college in Cambridge, partly for a cer⯑tain number of ſcholars to be educated in grammar^f. Degrees in grammar, or rhetoric, had been early eſtabliſhed at Oxford. But the pupils of this claſs ſtudied only ſyſtems of grammar and rhetoric, filled with empty defi⯑nitions and unneceſſary diſtinctions, inſtead of the real models^g. In 1509, Lillye, the fam⯑ous grammarian, who have learned Greek at Rhodes, and afterwards improved himſelf in latin at Rome under Johanes Sulpitius and Pomponius Sabinus, was the firſt teacher of greek at any public School in England. This was at ſaint Paul's ſchool in London then newly eſtabliſhed, and of which Lillye was the firſt Maſter^h. And that ancient pre⯑judices [140] were ſubſiding apace, and a national taſte for critical ſtudies and the graces of compoſition began to be diffuſed, appears from this circumſtance alone; that from the year 1502, to the reformation, within the ſpace of thirty years, there were more gram⯑mar ſchools founded and endowed in England than had been for three hundred years be⯑foreⁱ. Near twenty grammar ſchools were inſtituted within this period; before which moſt of your youth were educated at the mo⯑naſteries^k.

[141] In 1517, that wiſe prelate and bounti⯑ful patron, Richard Fox, founded his col⯑lege^l at Oxford, in which he conſtituted, with competent ſalaries, two lectures for the latin and greek languages^m. This was a new and noble departure from the narrow plan of academical educationⁿ, The courſe of the la⯑tin lecturer was not confined to the college, but open to the ſtudents of Oxford in gene⯑ral. He is expreſſly directed to drive barba⯑riſm from the new college^o. And at the ſame time it is to be remarked, that Fox does not appoint a philoſophy-lecturer in his college, as had been the practice in moſt of the pre⯑vious foundations; perhaps thinking, that ſuch an inſtitution would not have coincided [142] with his new ſyſtem of doctrine, and that it would be encouraging that ſpecies of ſcience which had hitherto blinded mens under⯑ſtandings, and kept them ſo long in ignorance of more uſeful knowledge. The greek lectu⯑rer is ordered to explain the beſt greek claſ⯑ſics; and thoſe which the judicious founder, who ſeems to have conſulted the moſt capital ſcholars of his age, preſcribes on this occaſion, are the pureſt, and ſuch as are moſt eſteemed at this day.

Theſe happy beginnings were ſeconded by the munificence of cardinal Wolſed. About the year 1519, he founded a public chair at Oxford for rhetoric and humanity; and ſoon afterwards another for the greek tongue: en⯑dowing both with ample ſtipends^p. But theſe innovations in the plan of ſtudy were greatly diſcouraged and oppoſed by the ſcholaſtic bi⯑gots, who called the greek language hereſy. Even biſhop Fox when he founded the greek lecture above-mentioned, was obliged to cover his excellent inſtitution under the ve⯑nerable mantle of the authority of the church, leſt ſhe ſhould ſeem to countenance a dan⯑gerous novelty. For he gives it as a rea⯑ſon, or rather as an apology, for this new [143] lectureſhip, that the ſacred canons had com⯑manded, that a knowledge of the greek tongue ſhould not be wanting in public ſe⯑minaries of education^q. The univerſity of Oxford was rent into factions on account of theſe attempts; and the defenders of the new erudition, from diſputations, often proceeded to blows with the rigid champions of the ſchools. But theſe animoſities were ſoon pacified by the perſuaſion and example of Eraſmus, who was about this time a ſtudent in ſaint Mary's college at Oxford, oppoſite to New-Inn^r. At Cambridge however, which, in imitation of Oxford, had adopted greek, Eraſmus found greater difficulties. He tells us himſelf that at Cambridge he read the [144] greek grammar of Chryſoloras to the bare walls^s: and that having tranſlated Lucian's dialogue called Icaro-menippus, he could find no perſon in the univerſity able to tran⯑ſcribe the greek with the latin^t. His edition of the greek teſtament was entirely proſcribed there; and a decree was iſſued in one of the moſt conſiderable colleges, ordering that if any of the ſociety was detected in bringing that impious and fantaſtic book into the col⯑lege, he ſhould be ſeverely fined^u. One Henry Standiſh, a doctor in divinity and a mendicant frier, afterwards biſhop of ſaint Aſaph, was a vehement opponent of Eraſmus in this heretical literature; calling him in a declamation, by way of reproach, Graeculus iſte, which afterwards became a ſynonymous term for an heretic^w.

But neither was Oxford, and for the ſame reaſons, entirely free from theſe contracted notions. In 1519, a preacher at ſaint Mary's church harangued with much violence againſt theſe pernicious teachers, and his arguments occaſioned no ſmall ferment among the ſtu⯑dents. [145] But Henry the eighth, who was luckily a patron of theſe improvements, being then reſident at the neighbouring royal manor of Woodſtock, and having received a juſt ſtate of the caſe from Pace and More, immediately tranſmitted his royal mandate to the univerſity, ordering that theſe ſtudies ſhoud not only be permitted but encouraged^x. Soon afterwards one of the king's chaplains preaching at court, took an opportunity to cenſure the new, but genuine, interpretations of ſcrip⯑ture which the grecian learning had intro⯑duced. The king, when the ſermon was ended, which he heard with a ſmile of con⯑tempt, ordered a ſolemn diſputation to be held, in the preſence of himſelf; at which the preacher oppoſed, and ſir Thomas More defended, the uſe and excellence of the greek tongue. The divine, inſtead of anſwering to the purpoſe, fell upon his knees, and beg⯑ged pardon for having given any offence in the pulpit. After ſome little altercation, the preacher, by way of a decent ſubmiſſion, declared that he was now better reconciled to the greek tongue, becauſe it was derived, from the hebrew. The king, amazed at his ignorance, diſmiſſed him, with a charge that he ſhould never again preſume to preach [146] at court^y. In the grammar-ſchools eſta⯑bliſhed in all the new cathedral foundations of this king, a maſter was appointed with a competent ſkill not only in the latin, but likewiſe in the greek language^z. This was an uncommon qualification in a ſchool⯑maſter.

At length ancient abſurdities univerſally gave way to theſe encouragements: and at Oxford in particular, theſe united efforts for eſtabliſhing a new ſyſtem of rational and manly learning were finally conſummated in the magnificent foundation of Wolſey's college, to which all the Learned of Europe were invited.

But theſe auſpicious improvements in the ſtate of learning did not continue long. A change of the national religion ſoon hap⯑pened, [147] and diſputes with the Lutherans en⯑ſued, which embroiling the minds of learn⯑ed men in difference of opinion, diſunited their endeavours in the cauſe of literature, and diverted their attention to other enquiries.

Many of the abuſes in civil ſociety are attended with ſome advantages. In the be⯑ginnings of reformation, the loſs of theſe ad⯑vantages is always felt very ſenſibly; while the benefit reſulting from the change, is the ſlow effect of time, and not immediately percieved or enjoyed. Scarce any inſtitution can be imagined leſs favorable to the in⯑tereſts of mankind than the monaſtic. Yet a great temporary check given to the progreſs of literature at this period, was the diſ⯑ſolution of the monaſteries. For although theſe ſeminaries were in general the nurſeries of illiterate indolence, and undoubtedly de⯑ſerved to be deſtroyed, yet the ſtill contained invitations and opportunities to ſtudious lei⯑ſure and literary purſuits. On this impor⯑tant event therefore, a viſible revolution and decline in the ſtate of learning ſucceeded. Moſt of the youth of the kingdom betook themſelves to mechanical or other illiberal employments, the profeſſion of letters being now ſuppoſed to be without ſupport and re⯑ward. [148] By the abolition of the religious houſes, many towns and their adjacent vil⯑lages were utterly deprived of their only means of inſtruction. What was taught in the monaſteries was perhaps of no great im⯑portance, but ſtill it ſerved to keep up a cer⯑tain degree of neceſſary knowledge. Hence provincial ignorance became almoſt univerſally eſtabliſhed.

Nor ſhould we forget, that ſeveral of the abbots were perſons of public ſpirit: by their connection with parliament, they became ac⯑quainted with the world; and knowing where and how to chuſe proper objects, and having no other uſe for the ſuperfluity of their vaſt revenues, encouraged, in their reſpective circles, many learned young men.

It is generally thought, that the reformation of religion, the moſt happy and important event of modern times, was immediately ſuc⯑ceeded by a flouriſhing ſtate of learning. But this, in England at leaſt, was by no means the caſe; and for a long time afterwards an effect quite contrary was produced. Yet, in 1535, the king's viſitors ordered lectures in humanity to be founded in thoſe ſocieties at Oxford where they were yet wanting: and [149] theſe injunctions were ſo warmly ſeconded and approved by the ſcholars in the largeſt colleges, that they ſeized on the venerable volumes of Duns Scotus, and other irrefrag⯑able logicians, and tearing them in pieces, diſperſed them in great triumph about their quadrangles, or gave them away as uſeleſs lumber^a. The king himſelf alſo eſtabliſhed ſome public lectures, with large endow⯑ments^b. Notwithſtanding, the number of ſtudents at Oxford daily decreaſed: inſomuch that, in 1546, there were only ten incep⯑tors in arts, and three in juriſprudence and theology^c.

In the mean time, the greek language flouriſhed at Cambridge, under the inſtruc⯑tion of Cheke and Smyth^d; notwithſtanding the unreaſonable interpoſition of their chancel⯑lor, biſhop Gardiner, about pronunciation. But Cheke being ſoon called up to court, both univerſities ſeem to have been reduced [150] to the ſame deplorable condition of indigence and illiteracy^e.

During the reign of Edward the ſixth, whoſe minority, which promiſed many vir⯑tues, was abuſed by corrupt counſellors and rapacious courtiers, little attention was paid to the ſupport of literature. Learning was not the faſhion of the times: and being diſ⯑couraged or deſpiſed by the rich who were perpetually graſping at its rewards, was neg⯑lected by thoſe of moderate fortunes. Ava⯑rice and zeal were at once gratified in rob⯑bing the clergy of their revenues, and in re⯑ducing the church to its primitive apoſtolical ſtate of purity and poverty^f. A favorite nobleman of the court held the deanery and treaſurerſhip of a cathedral, with ſome of its beſt canonries: while his ſon enjoyed an an⯑nual income of three hundred pounds from the lands of a biſhoprick^g. In every robbery of the church, the intereſts of learning ſuf⯑fered. Exhibitions and penſions were ſub⯑ſtracted [151] from the ſtudents in the univerſities^h. At Oxford the public ſchools were neglected by the profeſſors and ſcholars, and allotted to the loweſt purpoſesⁱ. All academical degrees were abrogated as antichriſtian^k. The ſpiri⯑tual reformers of thoſe enlightened days pro⯑ceeded ſo far, as to ſtrip the public library, eſtabliſhed and enriched by that noble patron Humphrey duke of Glouceſter, of all its books and manuſcripts; to pillage the ar⯑chives, and diſannul the privileges of the univerſity^l. From theſe meaſures many of the colleges were in a ſhort time entirely deſerted.

His ſucceſſor, queen Mary, took pains to reſtore the ſplendor of the univerſity of Ox⯑ford. Unamiable as the was in her temper and conduct, and inflexibly bigotted to the glaring abſurdities of catholic ſuperſtition, ſhe protected, at leaſt by liberal donations, the intereſts of learning. She not only con⯑tributed [152] large ſums for rebuilding the public ſchools, but moreover granted the univerſity three conſiderable impropriations. In her charter reciting theſe benefactions, ſhe de⯑clares it to be her determined reſolution, to employ her royal munificence in reviving its ancient luſtre and diſcipline, and recovering its privileges. Theſe privileges ſhe reeſta⯑bliſhed with the addition of freſh immuni⯑ties^m: and for theſe good offices the univer⯑ſity decreed for her, and her huſband Philip, [153] an anniverſary commemorationⁿ. I need not recall to the reader's memory, that ſir Tho⯑mas Pope, and ſir Thomas Whyte, were ſtill more important benefactors by their reſpec⯑tive foundations. Without all theſe favors, although they did not perhaps produce an immediate improvement, the univerſity would ſtill have continued to decay: and they were at leaſt a balance, at that time, on the ſide of learning, againſt the pernicious effects of returning popery.

In the beginning of the reign of Eliſabeth, which ſoon followed, when proteſtantiſm might have been expected to produce a ſpeedy change for the better, puritaniſm began to prevail, and for ſome time continued to retard the progreſs of ingenuous and uſeful know⯑ledge. The Engliſh reformed clergy, who during the perſecutions of queen Mary had fled into Germany, now returned in great numbers'; and in conſideration of their ſuffer⯑ings and learning, many of them were prefer⯑red to eminent ſtations in the church. They brought back with them thoſe narrow prin⯑ciples about church-government and ceremo⯑nies, which they had imbibed, and which did well enough, in the petty ſtates and republics [154] abroad, where they lived like a ſociety of philoſophers; but which were inconſiſtent with the genius of a more extended church, eſtabliſhed in a great and magnificent nation, and requiring a ſettled ſyſtem of policy, and the obſervance of external inſtitutions. How⯑ever, they were judged proper inſtruments to be employed at the head of eccleſiaſtical af⯑fairs, by way of making the reformation at once effectual. But unluckily this meaſure, ſpecious as it appeared at firſt, tended to draw the church into the contrary extreme. In the mean time their reluctance or abſolute refuſal to conform, in many inſtances, to the eſtabliſhed ceremonies, and their ſpeculative theology, tore the church into violent divi⯑ſions, and occaſioned endleſs abſurd diſputes, unfavorable to the progreſs of real learning, and productive of an illiterate clergy, at leaſt unſkilled in liberal and manly ſcience.

In fact, even the common eccleſiaſtical preferments had been ſo much diminiſhed by the ſeizure and alienation of impropria⯑tions, in the late depredations of the church, which were not yet ended, that few perſons were regularly bred to the church, or, in other words, received a learned education. Hence almoſt any that offered themſelves, [155] were without diſtinction admitted to the ſa⯑cred function. Inſomuch, that in 1560, an injunction was directed to the biſhop of Lon⯑don from his metropolitan, ordering him to forbear ordaining any more artificers, and other unlearned perſons who had exerciſed ſe⯑cular occupations^o. But as the evil was un⯑avoidable, this caution took but little effect. About the year 1563, there were only two divines, the dean of Chriſt Church, and the preſident of Magdalene college, who were capable of preaching the public ſermons at Oxford^p. Many proofs have been mentioned of the extreme ignorance of our clergy at this time: to which I ſhall add one, which is curious and new. In 1570, Horne biſhop of Wincheſter enjoined the Minor canons of his cathedral to get by memory, every week, one chapter of ſaint Paul's epiſtles in latin: and this taſk, beneath the abilities of an ordinary ſchool-boy, was actually repeated by ſome of them, before the biſhop, dean, and prebendaries, at a public epiſcopal viſitation of that church^q.

The taſte for latin compoſition, and it was faſhionable both to write and ſpeak in that [156] language, was much worſe than in the reign of Henry the eighth, when juſter models were ſtudied. One is ſurprized to find the learned archbiſhop Grindal, in the ſtatutes of a ſchool which he founded and amply endowed, pre⯑ſcribing ſuch ſtrange claſſics as Palingenius, Sedulius, and Prudentius, to be taught in the new ſeminary^r. Much has been ſaid about the paſſion for reading Greek which prevailed in this reign. But this affectation was confined to the queen, and a few others: and here it went no farther than oſtentation and pedantry. It was by no means the na⯑tional ſtudy; nor do we find that it improved the taſte, or influenced the writings, of that age. But I am wandering beyond the bounds which I firſt preſcribed to this neceſſary di⯑greſſion.

Yet I muſt add an obſervation or two. In government, many ſhocks muſt happen before the conſtitution is perfected. In like manner, it was late in the reign of Eliſabeth, before learning, after its ſinews had been re⯑laxed by frequent changes and commotions, recovered its proper tone, and roſe with new vigor, under the genial influence of the [157] proteſtant religion. And it may be further remarked, that, as all novelties are purſued to exceſs, and the moſt beneficial improve⯑ments often introduce new inconveniencies, ſo this influx of polite literature deſtroyed philoſophy. On this account, ſir Henry Sa⯑vile, in the reign of James the firſt, eſtabliſh⯑ed profeſſors at Oxford for aſtronomy and geometry; becauſe, as he declares in the preamble of his ſtatutes, mathematical ſtu⯑dies had been totally deſerted, and were then almoſt unknown in, England^s. Logic indeed remained; but that ſcience was ſtill cultivated, as being the baſis of polemical theology, and a neceſſary inſtrument for conducting our con⯑troverſies againſt the church of Rome.

SECT. V.

IN the year 1556, ſir Thomas Pope having now finiſhed the foundation of his col⯑lege, made his laſt Will^a, which is dated the ſixth of February the ſame year, he being then no more than forty-ſeven years of age. Of the ſeveral bequeſts and appointments contained therein, and in the codicil annexed dated the twelfth of December 1558, I ſhall inſert a ſummary^b.

He deſires to be buried in the church of ſaint Stephen's Walbrook, London, in the tomb, or vault, in which his firſt wife dame Margaret, and his daughter, were interred. His funeral to be without pomp, ‘"or herſe of wax,"’ and only two tapers of virgin wax with branches, to burn on his hearſe, in the church of the pariſh in which he ſhall happen to die, for the ſpace of one week.

[159] He gives ‘"blacke cootes or gownes,"’ to all his executors, his retainers, his houſehold ſervants; and all ſuch of his overſeers, friends, and kindred, as ſhall happen to be in his houſe at the time of his deceaſe.

He bequeaths xxl. or more to be diſtri⯑buted in alms to the Poor, in general, at his burial: and at the ſame time, xls. beſides, to twenty poor men, and as many poor wo⯑men, in parricular, with ‘"a gowne of good mantill fryſe each:"’ and when his obſe⯑quies were finiſhed, vl. more at leaſt, to be diſtributed in alms. He gives alſo xxs. to a diſcreet preacher for two funeral ſermons: one to be preached in the church of the pariſh in which he ſhall die; and the other in the church of ſaint Stephen's Wallbrook, at the time of his interment.

To the priſons of Newgate, Ludgate, Counter of Bread-ſtreet, Poultry-Counter, the Fleet, King's Bench, Marſhalſea, New Coun⯑ter in Southwark, Gate-houſe, ſaint Alban's, and Hertford, xviijl. To be given within one month after his death.

[160] To ſeveral of his kindred ccccccclxxxiijl. vs. and xl. marks^c. Beſide certain ſmaller be⯑queſts to ſome others.

To his couſin Jane Hankes one new gilt ſtanding cup of ſilver, with a cover, weigh⯑ing twenty-five ounces. To his ſon in law John Basford, or Beresford, the third part of all his^d armour ‘"and artillerie^e,"’ his beſt gauntlets and target, and his beſt horſe.

To Mr. Thomas Abrydge, ‘"his ſtele ſad⯑dill gilte, and all the harnes of crymſyn [161] velvett belonging to the ſame."’ To miſ⯑treſs Staveley, his mother in law, and to three others of his kindred, each, a fair new cup, or bowl, of ſilver, weighing each twenty ounces. To his ſon in law, John Dodmer, fifty angels to make him a chain; and his mother's picture in the bracelet of gold, ‘"which I ware about my arme, and the ring of gold hanging at the ſame; which brace⯑lett was the firſt tokyn that ever his mo⯑ther gave me."’

To nine of his ſervants by name, lviijl. xiijs. ivd. Beſide gratuities to all the reſt of his ſervants, of every ſort, living in his houſe at the time of his deceaſe^f. Pray⯑ing his executors, that if his wife ſhould not find it convenient to retain them after his death, they would help the ſaid ſervants to ſome worſhipful man's ſervice^g.

To Trinity college in Oxford, by him founded, cl. for building a wall round the Grove of the ſaid college.

[162] To the ſaid college five hundred marcs for building at Garſington near Oxford^h, a houſe to accommodate the ſaid college, in time of the plague at Oxford; in caſe he ſhould not live to accompliſh the ſame: And then char⯑ging his wife, if the ſaid ſum ſhould not be found ſufficient, as he believes and intends it to be, fully to ſupply the defect.

To the ſaid college, beſide thoſe which he before gave for the ſervice of the hall, the following pieces of ſilver plate, viz. Three goblets gilt, weighing together threeſcore and three ounces. Six plain cups gilt, each with one handle, weighing together ſeventy⯑ſeven ounces and an half. Three other goblets parcel gilt, with covers, weighing ſixty ounces. Thirteen ſpoons, one com⯑pletely gilt, weighing together forty ounces and an half. All the foregoing to be new made. He likewiſe bequeathes to the ſaid college, the largeſt of his ſtanding cups with a cover, completely gilt, weighing twenty⯑three ounces and a half. Alſo one of his [163] baſons and ewers parcel-gilt, weighing three⯑ſcore and fifteen ouncesⁱ.

To the Nuns of the convent of Syon vl. To the Friers Obſervants in the chapel of the Holy Croſs at Greenwich, vl. To the Black Friers at London, vl.

To ſaint Bartholomew's hoſpital in Weſt-Smithfield, ccl. To be beſtowed in con⯑ſtructing a conduit for conveying water to the ſaid hoſpital. Otherwiſe, to be expended in purchaſing an eſtate of xl. per annum, for providing coats, ſhirts, and gowns, for the ſick and poor at their firſt reception into the houſe^k.

To the repair of the church of Clerken⯑well, London, xll. To Wallbrook church for opening the vault therein for his ſepul⯑ture, xxs. To the vicar of Clerkenwell church, xs. And to the vicar of Ridge in Hertfordſhire, xs.

[164] To John Heyward^l, his ‘"trewe frynd,"’ one of his gowns of ſilk. To Mr. Croke, his old maſter's ſon, his gown of black ſattin faced with luſerne ſpots^m To lord Vaulx, cl. To ſir Nicholas Shirley, ll. in abatement of cccll. owed, and payable at Midſummer next. Beſide debts forgiven to ſome of his poor relations.

[165] To Mr. Gerrard, the queen's attorney ge⯑neral, one ring of fine gold. To Thomas Slythurſte, clerk, preſident of Trinity college aforeſaid, one ring of fine gold. Another to Sir Arthur Darcy, knight. Each ring to weigh one ounce, with the initials of his name on one ſide, and a Death's head on the other.

To the children of ſeveral poor tradeſmen and others, xxxl. and five marcs.

Of this his laſt will and teſtament, he conſtitutes his wife Eliſabeth, his moſt true and aſſured friend Nicholas Bacon, eſquire, afterwards ſir Nicholas, and his wife's bro⯑ther, William Blunt, eſquire, Executors. He alſo appoints his moſt truſty, worſhipful and loving friends, ſir Thomas Cornewallys, knight, comptroller of the king's and queen's houſhold, ſir Francis Englefield, knight, ſir Edward Waldegrave, knight, ſir Richard Southwell, knight, ſir Robert Southwell, knight, William Cordall, eſquire, ſollicitor general to the king and queen, Richard Goodryck, eſquire, John Wyſeman, eſquire, and Antony Wayte, gentleman, overſeers of the ſame. To each of the ſaid overſeers he gives a ring of gold, of the faſhion of thoſe [166] before-mentioned. To Nicholas Bacon, one of his executors, he gives his whiſtle, ſhaped like a dragonⁿ, and ſet with ſtones, which he commonly wore at his chain^o. To his other executor, William Blount, he gives xl angels, to make him a chain^p.

[167] To Eliſabeth his wife, and Executrix, whom he declares ever to have found, ho⯑neſt, true, faithful, loving, and obedient, he bequeathes the reſidue of his moveable goods, leaſes and debts: praying her heartily that ſhe would beſtow part of the ſame among the Poor^q. He commiſſions his ſaid wife, to furniſh Trinity college aforeſaid, with copes, veſtments, and ornaments for divine ſervice, and houſhold neceſſaries. But all theſe things he completely accompliſhed himſelf, in his own life-time, as has been already re⯑lated. He requires his ſaid wife, in caſe John Pope, his only brother, ſhould be without a male heir when Eliſabeth Pope, daughter of the ſaid John, marries, to be⯑ſtow ccc marcs, otherwiſe bequeathed to the ſaid Eliſabeth Pope for a marriage-portion, in deeds of charity.

As to his eſtates, not ſettled on Trinity col⯑lege, he wills that they ſhould remain, as is expreſſed and covenanted in a certain pair of quadripartite indentures, dated April the firſt, [168] 1554^r. By which indentures it appears, that the principal demiſes of the ſame were made to Eliſabeth his wife, John Pope his brother, John Edmondes his uncle, and Edmund Hutchins his nephew^s.

He further wills, that all manors, lands, tenements, and hereditaments, whatſoever, by him lately given to the preſident, fellows, and ſcholars, of Trinity college aforeſaid, ſhall for ever remain under the firſt aſſurances by which they were by him ſettled upon the ſaid college; without interruption or claim of heirs, executors, and aſſigns, or diſturbance of any other perſon claiming in in their right, name, or title.

During the time of founding his college, he chiefly reſided at Clerkenwell, Lon⯑don^t, [169] within the diſſolved priory of Black nuns^u: to the repair of the conventual church of which, being left ſtanding at the diſſolution, he gave the ſum of forty pounds^w. The buildings and ſite of this religious houſe, containing fourteen acres, had been granted by king Henry in 1545, to ſir William Hen⯑ley and ſir John Williams^x. In the country, he lived much at Tyttenhanger, in the pariſh of Ridge, in Hertfordſhire^y; which had been the country-ſeat of the abbots of ſaint Al⯑ban's, and was conveyed to ſir Thomas Pope by Henry the eighth, in the laſt year of his reign, 1547, but not confirmed to him till by letters patent of Edward the ſixth, dated July the twenty-fourth, in the following year^z. However, it appears that he bought [170] this eſtate of Queen Mary, June the ſix⯑teenth, 1557, for twenty years purchaſe^a: notwithſtanding, in a deed dated 1555, he ſtyles himſelf of Tyttenhanger^b, and in the charter of his college, 1554, mentions Tyt⯑tenhanger as one of his manors. The houſe was built by John Moot, one of the abbots of ſaint Alban's, in 1405^c, and much en⯑larged and adorned by his ſucceſſors, parti⯑cularly the learned and munificent John Whethamſtede, in the reign of Henry the ſixth^d. The chapel was an elegant edifice: and the wainſcott, behind the ſtalls, was beautifully painted with a ſeries of the figures of all the ſaints who bore the name of John. The windows were enriched with painted glaſs, which ſir Thomas Pope brought hither from the choir of ſaint Albans abby, when that church was, by his interpoſition, pre⯑ſerved from total deſtruction. Sir Thomas Pope alſo erected over the veſtibule of the great hall a noble gallery for wind-muſic^e. This houſe was ſo large, that in the year [171] 1528, King Henry the eighth and his queen, with their retinue, removed hither from London, during the continuance of the Sweating ſickneſs^e. But this antient and ſtately manſion was intirely pulled down, and that which is now ſtanding built in its place, about 1654, by ſir Henry Blount, the famous traveller^f. Of this county, and of Eſſex, ſir Thomas Pope was twice ſheriff, in the years 1552, 1557^g.

I muſt not here forget, that the learned and candid John de Feckenham, the laſt abbot of Weſtminſter, and a great friend to the princeſs Eliſabeth, about the reign of Edward the ſixth, often viſited ſir Thomas Pope, at Tyttenhanger-houſe; who never ſuffered him to depart without a preſent. Once in particular he gave Feckenham, at parting, a purſe filled with twelve angels, his picture in enamel, a ſilver crucifix ſtudded with pretious ſtones, and a large miſſal richly ornamented with thirty-ſix hiſtorical pic⯑tures^h. On the mention of Feckenham, I ob⯑ſerve [172] here, perhaps out of place, that Sir Tho⯑mas Pope is ſaid to have joined with abbot Feckenham in an application to queen Mary, to ſpare the life of ſir John Cheek; in conſide⯑ration of Cheek's eminent learning and inte⯑grity, and on condition that he would renounce the hereſies of the reformationⁱ. It is cer⯑tain that this admirable ſcholar, the reſtorer of the Greek tongue, would otherwiſe have been executed in the flames. Yet he did not long ſurvive the remorſe of a recanta⯑tion. His own conſcience had all the ſeveri⯑ties of a martyrdom.

To reſume the courſe of our narrative. He ſeems alſo, for ſome time, and ſo early at leaſt as 1546, to have been ſettled at Bermondſey in Southwark^k; at which place, and in the neighbourhood, he had ac⯑quired a very conſiderable property^l. Here, [173] as I conjecture, he built a houſe on the ruins of the diſſolved abbey of Cluniac monks which he probably purchaſed of his friend ſir Robert, or ſir Richard, South⯑well, to one of whom that monaſtery was granted at the diſſolution^m. This houſe, which Stowe calls ‘"a goodly houſe builded of ſtone and timber,"’ afterwards came into the poſſeſſion of the earls of Suffexⁿ.

What was ſir Thomas Pope's laſt illneſs, or the particular circumſtances of his death, I have not found. It is not improbable, but that he was carried off by a peſtilential fever, which began to rage with uncommon vio⯑lence in the autumn of the year 1558, and before the end of the ſucceeding winter, ſeized three parts in four of the people of England^o; deſtroying in the general devaſta⯑tion, thirteen biſhops, and ſeveral other per⯑ſons, both men and women, of the moſt emi⯑nent rank and quality^p. His laſt letter to his college, which having eſtabliſhed by his munificence, he lived near five years to pro⯑tect [174] and aſſiſt with his patronage, is dated Auguſt the eighth, 1558^p. While he medi⯑tated further benefactions for the encreaſe of its endowment^q, he died the twenty-ninth day of January following, 1559, on Sexage⯑ſima Sunday, at his houſe in Clerkenwell, in the fiftieth year of his age^r.

He was magnificently buried, with the following ſolemnities^s. His body was firſt carried to the church of Clerkenwell in Lon⯑don, where it was laid under a herſe, or ſhrine, illuminated with wax tapers, for the ſpace of one week. On the ſeventh day of February, began his funeral proceſſion to the church of ſaint Stephen's Wallbrook: to which he was conveyed with a ſtandard, a Coat, a penon or banner of arms, a target, helmet, ſword, and four dozen of arms, with twelve for the branches of wax tapers, and ſix for the body, or ſhrine. He was attended by two heralds at arms, Clarencieux and York. The firſt bore the coat, and the lat⯑ter the helmet and creſt. Twenty poor men [175] and twenty poor women, carried torches. The men were cloathed in mantle frieze gowns, and the women in^t rails, which he gave them. Sir Richard Southwell, and ſir Thomas Stradling, knights, and diverſe gen⯑tlemen and others, all in black, where mour⯑ners, to the number of ſixty or more. All his houſe at Clerkenwell, and the church, were hung with black, with eſcotcheons of his arms. After the heralds had offered the ſword, target, coat, and helmet at the high altar, and other ceremonies were performed, the company returned back to his houſe to a banquet, where they were refreſhed with ſpiced bread and wine. The next day fol⯑lowed his morrow maſs, in the ſaid church; at which were three Songs, two being prick⯑ed ſongs, and the third the maſs of requiem, all ſung by the Clerkes of London. He was then buried; after which they went back to his houſe to dinner, ‘"being, as my manu⯑ſcript ſays, a very great dinner, and plenty of all thinges."’ Then followed a great dole of almes diſtributed among the Poor.

Stowe inſinuates, that he was interred in [176] the north ile of the choir of Wallbrook church. Here was a vault, in which before had been buried his wife Margaret, his daughter Alice, and Anne Pope his ſiſter in law. Stowe adds the following inſcription, which was evidently placed there before his death, and I ſuppoſe immediately upon the deceaſe of dame Margaret. It was deſtroyed with the old church. ‘Hic jacet Thomas Pope Primus Theſaura⯑rius Augmentationum, et domina Mar⯑gareta uxor ejus, quae quidem Marga⯑reta obiit xvi Jan. MDXXXVIII^u.’

But in 1567, eight years after his death, his body and the body of dame Margaret afore⯑ſaid, were removed from ſaint Stephen's Wallbrook to the chapel of Trinity college in Oxford; where they were again interred on the north ſide of the altar, under a ſtate⯑ly tomb of good gothic workmanſhip, on which are the recumbent figures of ſir Tho⯑mas Pope in complete armour, and of his ſecond wife Eliſabeth, large as the life, in alabaſter, with this inſcription.

[177] ‘Hic jacent corpora Thome Pope militis fundatoris hujus collegii Trinitatis et do⯑mine Elizabethe et Margarite uxoris ejus. Qui quidem Thomas obiit xxix. die Ia⯑nuarii, M.D. LVIII.’

That the body of the founder was actually removed hither, appears unqueſtionably from the Will of Elizabeth his ſecond wife, who deſires expreſſly to be buried in a vault or tomb in Trinity college chapel in Oxford, ‘"wherein lieth the corps of my late good huſband ſir Thomas Pope^w."’ This is alſo further confirmed from the teſtimony of An⯑thony Wood: who in the Appendix ſubjoin⯑ed to his Hiſtory of the Univerſity of Oxford, containing omiſſions and miſtakes of the tranſlator in the Text of that elaborate work, obſerves; that notwithſtanding the inſcrip⯑tion in ſaint Stephen's Wallbrook, his Tran⯑ſlator, according to the original Engliſh copy, ought to have expreſſly inſerted, in the place [178] where ſir Thomas Pope's burial is mention⯑ed, ‘"Sed ſepultus fuit in capella coll. S.S. Trinitatis^x".’ In the mean time, it is ex⯑traordinary that no mention ſhould be record⯑ed of this Removal of the founder's body in any regiſter of the college. That this tomb in the college chapel was ſtanding in the year 1567, at leaſt, that the founder was then removed thither, may be fairly con⯑cluded from the two following entries in the computus of the Burſars of that year, and they are the only notices that any where occur concerning it, viz.

[179] This monument was probably given by Elizabeth his ſecond wife in her life-time. It was certainly erected after his death, viz. after 1559, as the inſcription, which is wrought in large gothic characters out of the ſubſtance of the ſtone, minutely ſpecifies the date of his deceaſe. Elizabeth ſurvived her huſband more than thirty years; and, if at all, ſhe muſt have erected it before 1567, when it appears to have exiſted. But of this I ſhall have occaſion to bring further evidences.

SECT. VI.

I Now proceed to throw ſome collateral light on ſir Thomas Pope's hiſtory, by giving a detached and diſtinct account of his brothers, ſiſters, wives, and friends: moſt of which have already been occaſionally men⯑tioned in the courſe of this narrative.

His brother John Pope, who was one of his heirs, and to whom he granted large eſ⯑tates, appears to have been ſettled at Wroxton in Oxfordſhire, in the reign of Edward the ſixth^z. I find John purchaſing of Henry the eighth, in the year 1544, eſtates belonging to the diſſolved canons of Kenilworth in Warwicſhire, for 1501l. 13s. 8d ^a. In the ſame year he recieved a grant of the ſite of the houſe of Franciſcan friers at Lincoln^b: as alſo, jointly with others, the ſite of the black friars at Beverly in Yorkſhire^c. In [181] 1545, he received ſome lands belonging to the priory of Bileigh in Eſſex^d. I could give many more inſtances from the patents, and privy ſeals. I find him often entertained at Trinity college, Oxford: and once with his ſecond wife Elizabeth Brockett^e. He was three times married. But as a further ac⯑count of him, his marriages, iſſue, and their deſcendants, would take up too much of our time here, and on other accounts requires a [180] [...] [181] [...] [182] more minute and ſeparate conſideration, theſe particulars ſhall form an article for the Appendix^f.

Sir Thomas Pope's ſiſters were Alice, Eli⯑zabeth, and Julian, as I before obſerved. Alice was married to Edward Love, gentle⯑man, of Aynhoc, in Northamptonſhire; ^g whoſe name often occurs in the affairs of Trinity college aforeſaid about the time of its foundation, and who appears to have act⯑ed as the founder's receiver in Oxfordſhire and other counties^h. She died 1534, and they are both buried in the church of Stoke-Lyne near Biceſter in Oxfordſhire, with an inſcription on a braſs-plateⁱ. Elizabeth his [183] ſecond ſiſter was married to Richard Hutch⯑ins, of Chipping-Norton in the ſame county, and afterwards to John Orpewood of the ſame place^k. The third ſiſter Julian was, as I conjecture, a nun at Godſtowe; and upon the diſſolution of that convent, received a grant of an annual penſion of vjl. xiijs. ivd ^l. [184] which ſhe continued to poſſeſs, 1553. This is a larger penſion than was uſual: which probably ſhe got by the intereſt of her brother ſir Thomas Pope. And this is more probable, as among other notices, it appears from an in⯑dorſement on a fragment of a rental of that nunnery in the hand-writing of ſir Thomas Pope, that on their diſperſion, he gave a gratuitous donation of forty marcs to twelve of its nuns, who were friendleſs and born in Oxfordſhire^m. She, if the ſame, was however married, before the year 1556, to Henry Bryan of Cogges in Oxfordſhireⁿ, who ſeems to have been but in moderate circumſtances^o.

As to the wives of ſir Thomas Pope, he was three times married. His firſt wife was Eliſabeth Gunſton, from whom he was di⯑vorced by Richard Gwent, doctor of decrees, archdeacon of London, and principal official in the court of Canterbury, July the eleventh 1536, by the authority of the king and par⯑liament^p. [185] His ſecond wife was Margaret Dodmer, widow, to whom he was married at London, July the ſeventeenth, 1536^q, by licence from archbiſhop Cranmer, authoriſed by parliament for this purpoſe^r. Margaret Dodmer's maiden name was Townſend, and ſhe was a native of Stamford in Lincoln⯑ſhire^s. She was the relict of Ralph Dod⯑mer, [186] mercer and ſheriff of London, 1524; afterwards knighted^t, and mayor of London, 1529^u. She was married to the ſaid Ralph, by licence from cardinal Wolſey, dated November the twentieth, 1527^w. By this ſir Ralph Dodmer, ſhe had two ſons Ralph and John, both living 1554^x, and two daugh⯑ters, Ann and Mary^y. By ſir Thomas Pope, her ſecond huſband, ſhe had only one [187] daughter Alice, born April the ſixteenth, 1537^z, who died very young. Lee, in a book of arms, chiefly of Oxfordſhire, drawn by himſelf in 1574, gives us the arms of Dodmer impaling Pope, from an eſcocheon of painted glaſs in a window at Trinity col⯑lege, ſince deſtroyed with many others: viz. Four lozenges meeting in point, gules, be⯑tween four roſes of the ſame: Upon a chief, gules, a wheat ſheaf between two annulets, Or^a. But theſe arms do not agree with an engraving of the arms of ſir Ralph Dodmer given by Stowe^b, With this lady Margaret, ſir Thomas Pope ſeems to have lived in the greateſt harmony and happineſs; for in his Will he mentions with much affection, ‘"her womanlie behaviour, trewth, and honeſtie, uſed towards me,"’ and makes this the ſole cauſe of his kind remembrances and gifts to her ſon; beſeeching his executors, and ho⯑norable friends, to treat all her children as his own. She died the ſixteenth day of January, 1538^c.

[188] His third wife, who deſerves more parti⯑cular notice, was Elizabeth the daughter of Walter Blount, eſquire, of Blount's Hall in Staffordſhire, and Mary his wife, deſcended from the illuſtrious family of Dudley Sutton, of which were the famous, John Dudley duke of Northumberland, and Robert earl of Leiceſter. The ſaid Elizabeth when mar⯑ried to ſir Thomas Pope, was relict of Anthony Basford, or Beresford, eſquire, of Bentley in Derbyſhire, by whom ſhe had an only ſon John^d. It is ſaid by one who [189] knew her well^e, that ſir Thomas Pope was induced to marry this lady principally on account of her charitable diſpoſition, and and other excellent qualifications; and that ſhe heartily concurred with her huſband's pious intention of founding a college. They were married by licence from archbiſhop Cranmer, the firſt of January, 1540^f. They had no iſſue. After the death of ſir Thomas Pope in January 1559, ſhe was married, for the third time, before or in December fol⯑lowing^g, to ſir Hugh Powlett of Hinton ſaint George in Somerſetſhire: concerning whoſe life and character, it may not perhaps be thought too great a digreſſion to mention ſome few particulars.

Sir Hugh Powlett was the ſon of ſir Amias Powlett knight, of whom it is remembered, that having incurred the diſpleaſure of car⯑dinal Wolſey, to produce a reconciliation, he [190] re-edified the gate of the middle temple, where he was treaſurer, in a moſt ſuperb manner, introducing among other decora⯑tions, the cardinal's arms, cogniſance, and badges^h. Sir Hugh, during the reign of Henry the Eighth, was much in favor with that king. He was invited, in 1537, with the principal nobility, to attend the magni⯑ficent baptiſm of prince Edwardⁱ. He was knighted for his gallant ſervices againſt the French in the wars of that reign: particu⯑larly for his behaviour at taking the Brey, at the ſiege of Boloigne, in the preſence of the king^k He was treaſurer of the king's army at the ſiege of Boloigne^l. In conſideration of theſe merits, he was rewarded by Henry the eighth with ſeveral grants of manors and lands^m. By that king he was likewiſe ap⯑pointed ſurveyor of the rents of the diſſolved [191] monaſtery of Glaſtonburyⁿ. In the third year of Edward the ſixth, he was knight⯑marſhal of the army commanded by lord Ruſſel lord privy ſeal, and ſent againſt the rebels of Cornwall and Devonſhire, whom he totally defeated^o. For theſe ſervices he was, the year following, appointed, for life, governor of the iſle of Jerſey and Mount-Orgueil-caſtle^p. In 1551, the fifth year of the laſtmentioned king, he was inſtalled knight of the garter, at a chapter held in the royal palace of Greenwich^q. In 1559, the the firſt year of queen Elizabeth, the privy council conſtituted him vice-preſident of the marches of Wales, in the abſence of lord Williams, preſident^r. In 1563, he was made governor of Havre de Grace^t, then in the hands of the Engliſh. The next year, he was one of the principal commanders who ſo bravely defended Newhaven againſt the French. On this occaſion, when Montmo⯑rency, conſtable of France, ſent a trumpet [192] to the earl of Warwick ſummoning him to ſurrender, ſir Hugh Powlett was deputed by the earl to aſſure the Conſtable, that the Engliſh were prepared and reſolved to ſuffer the laſt extremity before they would yield the town, without the queen's expreſs orders. And when the Engliſh army was at length ſo miſerably reduced by a peſtilence, that her majeſty in compaſſion to thoſe gallant ſol⯑diers who ſtill ſurvived, gave directions to lord Warwick to deliver up the place; ſir Hugh Powlett was the chief of the commiſ⯑ſioners who conducted the conferences with the conſtable of France for the capitulation^t. He was in a word, beſide the character of ſingular prudence and integrity, one of the moſt intrepid and experienced officers of his time^u. He was father, by a former wife, of ſir Amias Powlett^w, a privy counſellor and an eminent ſtateſman, in the reign of queen Elizabeth^x. Sir Hugh died in 1571, being [193] then repreſentative in parliament for the county of Somerſet^y, and without iſſue by this lady.

This Lady, whom we muſt now call Dame Elizabeth Powlett, did not, however, from her new connection diſcontinue that previous and natural attachment, which, in the cha⯑racter of foundreſs, ſhe bore to the founda⯑tion of her former huſband ſir Thomas Pope. She poſſeſſed indeed no ſmall juriſdiction over the tranſactions of the ſociety: for the foun⯑der had delegated to her the authority of nominating it's ſcholars, and preſenting to it's advowſons, during life^z. And this power, [194] yet with ſome interruptions^a, ſhe continued to exerciſe till her death^b. Nor was ſhe wanting in proper marks of affection to a place, to which ſhe was by the ſtrongeſt ties ſo nearly related. She engaged her huſband, ſir Hugh Powlett, to join with her in protecting the intereſts of the college. She added, in part, to the founder's endow⯑ment, after his death, the rectory of Ridge in Hertfordſhire, and the advowſon to the vicarage^c. She freely fulfilled the founder's unlimited charge, in which ſhe was bound to finiſh the houſe at Garſington abovemen⯑tioned; the coſt of it having exceeded the five hundred marcs which he ſpecified by will for that purpoſe: and accordingly we find her, from time to time, advancing with⯑out reſerve, the neceſſary ſupplies of timber and money^d. She appears often to have in⯑tereſted [195] herſelf in the affairs of the ſociety, and to have lent her aſſiſtance and advice on many occaſions: for which ſhe frequently re⯑ceived their teſtimonies of reſpect and re⯑gard^c Once I find her preſent at the college [196] in 1565, viz. ‘"Sol. pro Refectione data Fun⯑datrici, liijs. iiijd ^f."’ Sir Edward Hoby, an eminent ſtateſman and ſcholar, in the reigns of queen Elizabeth and James the firſt, ſtyles her in a latin epiſtle^g, ‘"praeno⯑bilis heroina;"’ and adds the great obliga⯑tion ſhe had conferred upon him in admitting into the college, Bernard Adams^h, afterwards [197] biſhop of Limerick. Sir Hugh Powlett aſſiſ⯑ted the college with his patronage, in a trou⯑bleſome and expenſive law-ſuit againſt lord Rich, and enabled them to overthrow their [198] powerful antagoniſtⁱ. He generouſly gave them a preſent of twenty pounds in ſilver, in 1566, for finiſhing the ſtone wall round their Grove^k. I find him entertained with them on Trinity Sunday the preceding year^l. I find him alſo viſiting them 1567, viz. ‘"Allocat. Jun. xxviii. pro dapibus domini Paulett viſentis collegium, vjs. viijd. Item pro ceraſis et vino eodem tempore, ijs. ivd. [ixs.]^m.’

But I proceed to ſome other particulars concerning Dame Elizabeth Powlett. In the year 1560, ſhe placed in rich painted glaſs in a window of the choir, or chancell, of the church of Broadwell in Oxſordſhire, an image of the Holy Trinity, with the figures [199] of herſelf and Sir Thomas Popeⁿ, both kneel⯑ing in their heraldic ſurcoats of arms. But this window was removed or deſtroyed the following year by own her command, being cenſured as ſuperſtitious^o. In the following year, ſhe gave a great clock to the late conven⯑tual church of Clerkenwell in London^p. This was a conſiderable benefaction, and not unworthy to be mentioned here; as clocks, if of any ſize, were at that time uncommon and very expenſive. In 1564, ſhe placed a new pair of organs, with a picture of the Paſſion of Saint Sebaſtian, in the chapel of Tytten-hanger-houſe^q. In the year 1592, being deſi⯑rous of perpetuating her affection to her native town of Burton upon Trent in Staffordſhire, by the memorial of ſome public benefaction, ſhe gave an annuity of [200] fifteen pounds iſſuing from her eſtate in Clerkenwell, and all her lands and poſſeſſions at Bentley in Derbyſhire, for improving the ſalaries of the firſt and ſecond maſters of the free-ſchool, and alſo for the perpetual main⯑tenance of five poor women, aged and un⯑married, in that town^q. At length this pi⯑ous and reſpectable lady having lived to a very great age, died the following year 1593, on the twenty-ſeventh day of October, at Tyttenhanger in Hertfordſhire^r. When her body was carried from thence, to be buried at Oxford, five pounds in money, and large proviſions of meat and drink were diſtributed [201] to the Poor, at the gate of Tyttenhanger-houſe^s. On the firſt of November following, the corpſe arrived at Oxford, where, not ſo much on account of her rank, as in regard to that public relation which her former huſband ſir Thomas Pope bore to the univerſity, it was laid in ſtate, in ſaint Mary's church^t. The next day it was conveyed with proper ſolemnity to Trinity college, attended by the preſident, fellows, and ſcholars of the ſame, all cloathed in mourning at her own charge^u; where with great pomp ſhe was interred in the chapel, with ſir Thomas Pope and his former wife Margaret. Three pennons, con⯑taing impalements of all her three huſ⯑bands, Beresford, POPE, and Powlett, were hung up over the tomb^w. Twenty-five of the pooreſt women which could be found in Oxford, were ordered to be preſent at the in⯑terment, habited in black gowns of frieze. On this occaſion, a ſumptuous dinner was provided in the hall of the college, for the whole ſociety, and attendants of the funeral. The remains of the entertainment were diſ⯑tributed to the poor at the college-gate, and [202] five pounds in money. At the ſame time, a legacy of ten ſhillings was delivered to each of the ſcholars. All this was by her own di⯑rections^x. She bequeathed xjl. vs. to ſeve⯑ral priſons: and to every ſingle priſoner at Oxford one ſtone of beef. To the pooreſt and moſt diſeaſed patients in the hoſpital of ſaint Bartholomew^y in Weſt-Smithfield, xls. to be delivered to each of them reſpectively, within one week after her deceaſe. Among other bequeſts to her honorable friends and relations, ſhe leaves, to lord keeper Pucker⯑inge a ſtanding cup with a cover, of ſilver gilt. To lord treaſurer Burleigh a ring of gold garniſhed with a diamond, pointed up⯑wards and downwards, which was ſometime the ring of lord keeper ſir Nicholas Bacon, and by him ſold to ſir Arthur Darcy, who ſold the ſame to ſir Thomas Pope for one hundred pounds. To the earl of Ormond her black ambling horſe.^z To the counteſs of Warwick, aunt of ſir Philip Sydney, two long cuſhions of red cloth of gold, for the furniture of a bow window; and an ewer [203] of ſilver, ſuitable to the baſon which ſhe gave her at the laſt ‘"New yeres tide,"’ for a new year's gift^a. To lady Stafford, lady of the queen's privy chamber, a candleſtick of ſilver, weighing twenty two ounces, ſuitable to two others before given^b. To lady Scudamore, a very fair caſting bottle of ſilver gilt, weighing fifteen ounces^c. To her ſiſter lady Sydenham, [204] a neſt of ſilver bowls, two trencher Salts of ſilver, and her bed, with all its rich furni⯑ture, of cloth of^d ſtamel colour^e. Theſe par⯑ticulars acquaint us with her connections, and ſhew the manners of the times.

She had two brothers; William Blount^f an executor, with Nicholas Bacon, of ſir Tho⯑mas Pope's will: and Walter Blount, nomi⯑nated a ſcholar of Trinty college, Oxford, by the founder, and admitted January the ninth, 1557^g. Her ſiſters were Mary, [205] Anne and Ellen^h William Blount's heir Thomasⁱ, who was ſettled at Tyttenhanger in Hertfordſhire about 1593, prefixed Pope to the name of Blount, in remembrance of [206] ſir Thomas Pope; as many of his lineal de⯑ſcendants have done.

Of this family of Blount there were after⯑wards three eminent writers: ſir Henry Blount knight, ſir Thomas Pope-Blount knight, and baronet, and Charles Blount, eſquire. Concerning whom a few words may not be perhaps impertinent or unaccepta⯑ble. Sir Henry Blount was admitted a gentle⯑man-commoner of Trinity college Oxford, in 1615^l, under the tuition of the learned Robert Skynner one of the fellows, after⯑wards ſucceſſively biſhop of Briſtol, Oxford, and Worceſter, in the fourteenth year of his age: where, at that early period of life, he attracted the peculiar attention and eſteem of the ſociety, more from his own perſonal and intrinſic accompliſhments, his amiable diſpo⯑ſition, lively converſation, engaging addreſs, genius, and taſte for polite literature, than from his family connections, and his near re⯑lation to the founder^m. In 1636, He pub⯑liſhed his VOYAGE INTO THE LEVANT, which became exceedingly popular, and was [207] frequently reprinted. But to ſay the truth, this little work is the voyage of a ſceptic: it has more of the philoſopher than the tra⯑veller, and would probably never have been written, but for the purpoſe of inſinuating his religious ſentiments. Yet his reflections are ſo ſtriking and original, and ſo artfully inter⯑woven with the thread of his adventures, that they enliven, inſtead of embarraſſing, the nar⯑rative. He has the plauſible art of colouring his paradoxes with the reſemblance of truth. So little penetration had the orthodox court of Charles the firſt, that merely on the merit of this book, he was appointed one of the band of Penſioners^m. Sir Thomas Pope-Blount his eldeſt ſon was born in 1649, and was educated under his father's inſpection. His CENSURA CELEBRIORUM AUTHORUM, which is a compilation of great erudition and labour, is well known to the critic and the li⯑terary hiſtorian. Niceron unfortunately com⯑pares the CENSURA with Baillet's JUGE⯑MENT DES SAVANSⁿ. But Baillet has the vanity and injuſtice to report the opinions of other writers in his own words: our author has the modeſty and fidelity to tranſcribe and [208] to cite his authorities. His ESSAYS on vari⯑ous ſubjects are learned and judicious, and they have the eaſe and freedom, without the ſingularity, of Montaigne. Another of his works, which has been ſuperſeded by thoſe who have uſed its materials, is REMARKS ON POETRY. Of this piece it will be ſufficient to ſay, that it was honoured with the appro⯑bation of lord Mulgrave, the moſt elegant critic of the author's age. Charles Blount, or Pope-Blount, eſquire, ſecond ſon of ſir Henry abovementioned, inherited his father's philoſophy. From an abhorence of ſuper⯑ſtition, he appears to have adopted the moſt diſtant extremes of the theiſtic ſyſtem. His ANI⯑MA MUNDI, ORACLES OF REASON, LIFE OF APPOLLONIUS TYANAEUS, and DIA⯑NA OF THE EPHESIANS, written with great learning, ſagacity, wit, and force of reaſon⯑ing, are the conſolation of infidels, and are melancholy monuments of admirable abilities abuſed in the defence of a futile but danger⯑ous cauſe^o. In conformity to theſe princi⯑ples, he died by his own hand in 1693. Bayle has inaccurately repreſented the affecting ſtory of his death^p.

[209] I cloſe my account of Dame Elizabeth Powlett, and her nearer relations, with a few words concerning the antiquity and dignity of her family. Its anceſtor was Le Blound lord of Guiſnes in Normany, whoſe ſons Robert and William le Blound, both entered Eng⯑land with William the conqueror. William was one of the captains in that expedition, and quartered, with other Norman knights, on the monks of Ely. Robert was created by the conqueror, baron of Ixworth in Suffolk; in which county he received a grant of thir⯑teen lordſhips. Gilbert, his ſon, founded an Auguſtine priory at Ixworth, in the reign of William Rufus, which he endowed with fourteen knights fees. One of Gilbert's de⯑ſcendants was killed at the battle of Lewes, [210] in the reign of Henry the third, where he was ſtandard-bearer to Mountford earl of Leiceſter. In the progreſs of it's deſcent, this family numbers many perſons of ſingular eminence and high ſtation^q; and is, beſides, nobly connected by marriages. On the ſides of the tomb in Trinity college chapel above⯑mentioned, are two coats: Pope impaling Quarterings of Blount, viz. Barry, Nebule of ſix, Or, and ſable; And of Roger de Sutton, anceſtor of Elizabeth's mother, viz. A lyon rampant. This is one coat. The other con⯑ſiſts of quarterings of Blount, Of the ſaid Ro⯑ger de Sutton; and, Of Nicholas de Wichard lord of the manor of Oſberſton aforeſaid in the reign of Henry the third, marrying into the ſaid Roger, viz. Azure, a cheveron Ar⯑gent, between three martlets^r Or. Theſe arms are an additional and evident proof, that Dame Elizabeth Powlett erected this monument; in decorating which, ſhe was ſo ſtudious to introduce the enſigns and ho⯑nors of her own family^s.[211]

SECT. VII.

IT may be neceſſary to ſpeak of ſir Tho⯑mas Pope's friends, and of thoſe with whom he ſeems to have maintained any par⯑ticular intimacy, connection, or intercourſe: notwithſtanding moſt of their names have before occurred incidentally. Theſe were ſir Thomas More, lord Audley, ſir Richard Southwell, ſir Thomas Stradling, ſir Nicho⯑las Bacon, ſir Thomas Cornewallys, ſir Fran⯑cis Englefield, ſir Robert Southwell, ſir Ed⯑ward Waldegrave, William Cordall, eſquire, Richard Gooderick, John Wyſeman, ſir Ar⯑thur Darcy, ſir Gilbert Gerrard, lord Vaulx, ſir Thomas Brydges, cardinal Pole, Thirlby biſhop of Ely, ſir Thomas Whyte, lord Wil⯑liams of Thame, Whyte biſhop of Wincheſ⯑ter, and Thomas Slythurſte, preſident of Tri⯑nity college ſo often mentioned.

I need not repeat his laſt interview with ſir THOMAS MORE: of whom it will be ſufficient to add here, that he was the great⯑eſt ornament of the Engliſh nation at the reſ⯑toration of polite literature; that he was a [213] man whoſe life and death are equal prodigies, and whoſe valuable virtues and untimely fate are alike admired and lamented^a. THOMAS lord AUDLEY, made lord high chancellor of England on ſir Thomas More's reſignation in 1533, was probably ſir Thomas Pope's parti⯑cular patron, and perhaps not a little inſtru⯑mental towards his riſe in the world, as has been already hinted. In how great confidence and eſteem ſir Thomas was held by lord Aud⯑ley, is further manifeſted, from his being ap⯑pointed, with ſir Edward North, and two others, an executor of lord Audley's will^b; in which, among ſeveral other directions, they are requeſted to deliver, the next new year's day after his deceaſe, one hundred pounds to the king; from whom the teſtator profeſſes to have received all his reputations and benefits ^c. Few of the favorites of Henry the eighth appear to have more ſucceſsfully recom⯑mended themſelves to their ſovereign than [214] lord Audley. But although by his perſeve⯑rance in the buſineſs of the Divorce, and the diſſolution of the monaſteries, he ſo gratified the kings private views, as ‘"to ſuſtain, ac⯑cording to his own declaration, much da⯑mage and infamy;"’ yet the beſt hiſtorians admit, that he oppoſed the dangerous deſigns of his arbitrary maſter in a matter of the higheſt importance. In 1539, many ſevere acts were made, in which thoſe ſtyled the ſix bloody articles were included; and the pre⯑rogative was carried to ſuch an enormous height, that the king's proclamation was al⯑lowed to attain the force of a law. It does not very plainly appear who were his majeſty's principal counſellors in this affair: but we are aſſured, by concurrent and undoubted authorities, that the rigorous execution of thoſe laws which the king had at firſt in⯑tended, was prevented by the ſpirited inter⯑poſition of lord Audley^d. But I forbear en⯑tering further into the hiſtory of this diſtin⯑guiſhed ſtateſman and lawyer; who bore ſo conſiderable and ſo public a ſhare in the moſt important tranſactions of the reign of Henry the eighth. I ſhall only add, that with ſir Thomas Pope, he was an encourager of li⯑terature; and the founder, or reſtorer, of [215] Magdalen college in Cambridge^e. Sir RI⯑CHARD SOUTHWELL was one of the chief mourners at ſir Thomas Pope's burial. He was educated at Bennet college in Cambridge, and from thence removed to the inns of court^f. He was ſummoned, in 1537, with many lords and knights, to attend the baptiſm of prince Edward^g. He was a viſitor at the diſſolution of religious houſes^h, privy coun⯑ſellor to Henry the eighth, and an executor of his willⁱ. In 1545, although a ſtrict ca⯑tholic, he protected, in his houſe called the Charter-houſe at London, his tutor at Cambridge, one John Loude, a polite ſcho⯑lar, who was perſecuted for hereſy, being a friend to his literature notwithſtanding his religion^k. When ſir Thomas More was committed to the tower, he was ſent by the king, with Rich the ſollicitor-general, to take away More's books^l. Henry the eighth left him by will two hundred pounds^m. In the [216] reign of Edward the ſixth, he was appointed one of the counſellors to the young king, during his minorityⁿ. In 1551, he was con⯑cerned with lord Wriotheſley, and others, in bringing about the fall of the protector So⯑merſet; who was become odious to the peo⯑ple on accont of his ambitious views, and the riches he had amaſſed in plundering the revenues of the church and crown. But in conſequence of this intrigue, which was deemed a faction, he was impriſoned, but pardoned. At the acceſſion of Mary, he received a grant from the queen of an annual penſion of one hundred pounds^o, for his ſer⯑vices in oppoſing the duke of Northumber⯑land who diſputed her title, and was accord⯑ingly beheaded for rebellion^p. In the ſame reign, 1553, he was maſter of the ordinance and armory^q; the nature of which, at that time, appears from the following warrant, requiring him to deliver, ‘"towardes the fur⯑niture [217] of the bande of horſemen, appoint⯑ed preſently to attend upon her Grace, theis parcells of armour; four hundred demy launces, with all their furniture, five hundred corſeletts, one hundred and fiftie ſhirtes of mail, with morions to the ſame."’ Afterwards mention is made of ‘"two hun⯑dred bowes, with ſheffs of arrowes, two groſſe of bowſtringes, fifty partizans [hal⯑berds] and five hundred pikes^r."’ In 1554, the queen gave him a licence for forty re⯑tainers^s, an honor only granted to perſons of uncommon diſtinction. In this reign he was alſo one of the privy council, and re⯑peatedly joined in the moſt important com⯑miſſions^t; one of which he executed in con⯑junction with ſir Thomas Pope. In the firſt year of queen Elizabeth, he was con⯑tinued maſter of the ordinance and ar⯑mory; when he made ſuit to the lords, that he might exhibit a declaration of the ſtate of his office, and of the military ſtores then remaining in his poſeſſion. In a letter to Slythurſte, the firſt preſident of Trinity college, dated Whitmonday 1558, ſir Tho⯑mas Pope propoſes to place his ſon in law [218] John Beresford abovementioned, a ſtudent in his college, and concerning whoſe ſucceſs in life he appears to have been very ſollicitous, as a page with ſir Richard Southwell, and his brother ſir Robert, ‘"to lerne there amonge his [ſir Richard's] childern, the Latin tonge, the French tonge, and to playe at wepons^u."’ Theſe at this time, were probably the ſole and complete accompliſh⯑ments of a gentleman. Sir THOMAS STRAD⯑LING^w, another of the chief mourners at ſir Thomas Pope's funeral, was of ſaint Do⯑nat's caſtle in Glamorganſhire. When queen Mary ſucceeded to the crown^x, 1553, he was appointed, with others, a muſter-maſter to the queen's army^y, and a commiſſioner for the marches of Wales^z. In the ſame [219] year he was repreſentative in parliament for Eaſt-Grinſtead in Suſſex; and, the follow⯑ing year for Arundel in the ſame county^a. In 1558, he was joined with ſir Thomas Pope, and others, in a commiſſion, before mentioned at large, for the ſuppreſſion of heretics^b. He was father of ſir Edward Strad⯑ling, remarkable in the reign of Elizabeth, for his critical ſkill in the Britiſh language, and his patronage of the Welch antiquarian literature^c. Sir Thomas Stradling magnifi⯑cently repaired the ancient caſtle of ſaint Donat's^d; and built ſaint Mary's chapel, adjoining to ſaint Donat's church, in which he was buried^e.

Sir NICHOLAS BACON, one of the exe⯑cutors of ſir Thomas Pope's will, in which he likewiſe remembers him with a token of [220] affection, calling him moreover ‘"his moſt true and aſſured friend,"’ was ſir Thomas Pope's neighbour at Gorhambury near ſaint Alban's; where he built in 1566, a beautiful houſe, which ſtill remains a monument of ancient magnificence and manners, with much of its original furniture and decorations^f. He was likewiſe ſollicitor^g, while ſir Thomas was treaſurer, of the firſt court of Augmen⯑tations. During the reign of Henry the eighth, having enjoyed many marks of royal favor, more from virtuous induſty than from mean ſubmiſſion, he was made by queen Elizabeth, 1559, lord keeper of the great ſeal, and a privy counſellor^h. In theſe ſtations, he behaved with that wiſdom and integrity which their importance and dignity required. To this character it may be ſuperfluous to add, what alone might ſupply the place of a prolix panegyric, that he was the father of Francis lord Verulam.

Sir THOMAS CORNEWALLYS, one of the Overſeers of ſir Thomas Pope's will, all [221] whom he ſtyles his moſt truſty and loving friends, was ſheriff of Norfolk juſt before queen Mary's acceſſion, where he raiſed a conſiderable force againſt thoſe diſaffected and factious ſubjects who oppoſed her title. For this ſeaſonable and ſerviceable aſſiſtance, he was immediately made one of her privy council, treaſurer of Calais^l, and comptrol⯑ler of her houſhold^k. When it was debated in council to ſend the princeſs Elizabeth out of the kingdom, in order that ſhe might be excluded from the ſucceſſion, he boldly diſ⯑ſuaded the queen from a proceeding at once unjuſt and imprudent^l. Sir FRANCIS EN⯑GLEFIELD, a ſecond overſeer of ſir Thomas Pope's will, and joined with him in a com⯑miſſion, was knighted by Edward the ſixth^m, but afterwards impriſoned in the Tower by the protector Somerſet, becauſe he concurred with ſir Edward Waldegrave, and others, in ſuppreſſing the commands of the privy coun⯑cil for the prohibition of maſs in the family of his miſtreſs the princeſs Mary, with whom he then reſided at Copped-hall in Eſſexⁿ. [222] But when Mary, ſucceeded to the throne, he was conſtituted a privy-counſellor, conſta⯑ble of Windſor caſtle, and maſter of the great wardrobe^o. She alſo granted him one hundred retainers^p. In the reign of Eliza⯑beth, he left the kingdom, and retiring into Spain, became a zealous advocate to king Philip in favor of Mary queen of Scots^q. But Elizabeth, highly provoked at the inſo⯑lence of a man who preſumed to plead the cauſe of a lady more beautiful than herſelf, commanded him to be outlawed and attaint⯑ed^r. This bigotted knight was much of⯑fended at the ſingular forbearance and indul⯑gence ſhewn to the celebrated Roger Aſcham, whom he looked upon as a moſt dangerous heretic, during the rigid reign of queen Mary: but there are papers to prove, that it was principally by ſir Thomas Pope's influence and earneſt interpoſition, that Englefield was perſuaded to abandon a violent proſecution which he had commenced againſt Aſcham^s. [223] Sir ROBERT SOUTHWELL, another of the overſeers of ſir Thomas Pope's will, and brother to ſir Richard, was made maſter of the rolls, 1542, by Henry the eighth^t, and continued in that office till about the middle of Edward the ſixth, 1550^u. In 1542, he was repreſentative in parliament for the county of Surrey, and often afterwards for the county of Kent, and ſeveral boroughs, in the reigns of Edward and Mary^w. He was a receiver of abby lands from Henry the eighth^x. He died in November, 1559^y. Queen Mary granted him twenty retainers^z. He was appointed a delegate and commiſſary in the firſt year of queen Mary, with many civilians, and others of the firſt honor and quality, for the reſtitution of biſhop Bonner^a. He was one of the attornies, while ſir Tho⯑mas Pope was treaſurer, of the court of aug⯑mentations^b. [224] Sir EDWARD WALDEGRAVE, another of the overſeers of ſir Thomas Pope's will, was a principal officer in the houſhold of the princeſs Mary, and committed to cloſe impriſonment to the Tower, with ſir Francis Englefield, and ſir Robert Rocheſter, for omitting to forbid the celebration of maſs in her houſe^c. The princeſs when ſhe ſuc⯑ceeded to the crown, had him much in eſteem; and in conſideration of his ſufferings and unſhaken conſtancy, ſhe conſtituted him a privy-counſellor, maſter of the great ward⯑robe^d, and chancellor of the duchy of Lan⯑caſter^e. He was created knight of the carpet, by lord Arundel, the day following her majeſty's coronation^f. He was appoint⯑ed one of the executors of cardinal Pole's will; in which the cardinal aſſigns him a gratuity of fifty pounds^g. In the year 1561, he was ordered, with his lady, to the Tower, for hearing maſs in his family^h. Strype, in the ſpirit of his honeſt ſimplicity, tells usⁱ, [225] that ‘"this knight and his lady had the cha⯑racter of very good alms-folks, in reſpect of their great liberality to the Poor."’ Three other Overſeers of ſir Thomas Pope's will were ſir William Cordall, Richard Gooderyke, and John Wyſeman. Sir WIL⯑LIAM CORDALL was lent reader of Lin⯑coln's inn, 1553^k, and afterwards frequently governor of that houſe^l. In the ſame year he was appointed ſollicitor-general, by queen Mary^m; and in 1557, maſter of the rollsⁿ. Sir Thomas Pope mentions him in this ca⯑pacity, in a letter to the preſident of his col⯑lege, dated at Clerkenwell, on Whitmonday, 1558. ‘"I ſhall buy of the maſter of the rolles, ii fayre manors with two advowſons in Lyncolnſhere which I entende to gyve to my collegge, &c^o."’ He was one of Mary's privy counſellors^p, who granted him the privilege of twelve retainers^q. He was one of the executors of cardinal Pole's will, [226] with a bequeſt of fifty pounds^r. He was likewiſe an executor, and is ſtyled a beloved friend, of the great earl of Dorſet^s. In 1558 he was ſpeaker of the houſe of Commons^t. The maſterſhip of the rolls he kept late in the reign of Elizabeth, with much reſpect, till 1581^u. William Lambarde's famous book, entitled ARCHAIONOMIA or ſyſtem of Saxon laws, tranſlated into Latin, and printed at London in 1568, is dedicated to this ſir William Cordall; and in the dedication, the learned editor acknowledges the many obli⯑gations and encouragements he had received from ſir William's patronage in the proſecu⯑tion of that valuable work. Abraham Fle⯑ming alſo dedicates his tranſlation of The General Doctrine of Earthquakes to this wor⯑thy patron^w. He is ſaid to have been a great encourager of Saxton, who publiſhed maps of England, in the reign of queen Elizabeth^x. He was appointed viſitor of ſaint John's col⯑lege in Oxford, during life, by the founder ſir Thomas Whyte; and is ſuppoſed to have [227] drawn up the ſtatutes of that ſociety by the founder's deſire^y. He lived at Long-Mel⯑ford in Suffolk^z: and, in 1578, gave exam⯑ple for the magnificent feaſting of queen Elizabeth in that county; into which her majeſty was received by three troops, one of two hundred young gentlemen cloathed in white velvet, another of three hundred gentlemen of the county apparelled in black velvet coats and coſtly chains, and a third of fifteen hundred attendants well mounted on horſeback^a. RICHARD GOODERYKE ap⯑pears to have been a lawyer of great emi⯑nence; and his name is frequently mention⯑ed, with other chief lawyers and noblemen, in various commiſſions and proclamations, during the reigns of Henry the eighth, Ed⯑ward, Mary, and Elizabeth^b. Leland, in [228] the ENCOMIA^c of illuſtrious perſons, compli⯑ments him when a young man, for his pro⯑miſing virtues and abilities; and from thence infers his future reputation in the profeſſion of the law^d. He was an attorney^e, while ſir Thomas Pope was maſter of the woods, of the ſecond court of Augmentations. Ed⯑ward the ſixth, in 1551, granted him an an⯑nuity of one hundred pounds^f. He was of⯑ten a repreſentative in parliament^g. He was [229] born in Yorkſhire 1524^h, and was high-ſheriff of that county 1579ⁱ. He was nearly related to Goodryke biſhop of Ely, high chancellor of England^k. JOHN WYSEMAN^l was of Canfield-Hall in Eſſex^m. I find him one of the commiſſioners for certifying to Henry the eighth, the value of all the mo⯑naſtic and other ſpiritual foundations in the county of Eſſexⁿ. He was a member of par⯑liament, in 1554, for Malden in Eſſex: and in the following year, for Eaſt-Grinſtead in Suſſex^o.

Sir ARTHUR DARCY, to whom ſir Thomas Pope bequeathes a valuable memorial in his will, and with whom he was joined in a com⯑miſſion, is ſaid to have been ‘"a ſoldier of great fidelitie and truſt^p."’ Upon informa⯑tion [230] given to Henry the eighth, that the emperor Charles the fifth had threatened war againſt England, in 1532, and by ſome ſecret negotiations, engaged James the fourth of Scotland to his aſſiſtance; he entered Scotland with an army, and waſted the country. In the ſame year he was deputed captain of the Iſle of Jerſey; and afterwards, in 1551, by Ed⯑ward the ſixth, lieutenant of the tower of London^q. He was moreover an encourager of polite learning, then begining to grow faſhion⯑able, as we learn from Leland; who addreſſes a copy of verſes to him in the ENCOMIA^r; and ſays, that ſir Arthur Darcy was preſent, and countenanced him when he preſented, in 1545, his new years gift to the King^s. Sir GILBERT GERARD, to whom ſir Thomas Pope alſo leaves a memorial, was autumnal reader of Gray's-inn, 1553^t; and in the fol⯑lowing year, treaſurer of that ſociety with Nicholas Bacon^u. He was appointed, by [231] queen Elizabeth, at her acceſſion, 1559, at⯑torney general^w, and on the death of ſir Wil⯑liam Cordall, in 1588, maſter of the rolls^x; in which ſtation he remained till 1594^y, when he probably died. The memorable William Herbert, earl of Pembroke, appoin⯑ted him in 1569, with others his good lords and friends, an overſeer of his will, with a reward of fifty pounds, to be given him in money, plate, or jewels^z. WILLIAM Lord VAULX, of Harwedon, to whom ſir Thomas Pope leaves a legacy of one hundred pounds, was ſummoned to parliament 1557. He founded an hoſpital at Irtlingburgh in North⯑amptonſhire^a. In 1582, he was accuſed before lord Burghley and ſir Walter Mild⯑may, and heavily fined, for harbouring Cam⯑pion the jeſuit, but was afterwards reconciled to the queen^b. Notwithſtanding this popiſh attachment, he was one of the noblemen ap⯑pointed to conduct her majeſty from Hatfield [224] to London, on the Death of her ſiſter Mary^c. Sir THOMAS BRYDGES, to whom, by the name of Mr. Thomas Abrydge, ſir Thomas Pope alſo bequeathes a remembrance, was brother to John firſt earl of Chandois^d. In Mary's reign he was lieutenant of the Tower of London^e. Fox mentions a friendly reli⯑gious conference between him, ſecetary Bourne, and Biſhop Ridley, in the Tower^f. When the princeſs Elizabeth was confined in the tower, he ſaved her life, by detecting and communicating a plot which biſhop Gar⯑diner is ſaid to have contrived for her imme⯑diate execution^g. When he led, as lieutenant of the tower, lady Jane Gray to the ſcaffold, he begged her to beſtow on him ſome ſmall preſent, which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her^h. She gave him her table⯑book, where ſhe had juſt written three ſenten⯑ces on ſeeing her huſband's headleſs body [233] carried back to the tower in a cart. They were written one in Greek, another in Latin, and a third in Engliſhⁱ. That ſir Thomas Pope was nearly connected with CARDINAL POLE, appears from paſſages in his letters. I have before mentioned his application to the cardinal, for obtaining a licence for three of his fellows to preach. Sir Thomas Pope in a letter to the preſident of his college, 1558, [234] ſpeaks of procuring a prebend for one Hey⯑wood, and adds, ‘"my lord cardinalls Grace and my lord of Elie [Thirlby] are both willing."’ In another letter to the ſame, dated 1557, he ſays, ‘"Towching Mr. Hey⯑wood's recompens, I wold be glad to un⯑derſtonde what he wold have; and therup⯑pon wold make my ſute to my lord cardi⯑nall's Grace, and my lord of Elie, accord⯑inglie^k."’ In another to the ſame, and on the ſame buſineſs, without date, he ſays, ‘"my lord cardinall's grace has promiſed me a prebend of xxl."’ In another to the ſame, dated July the ninth, 1558, he tells the preſident, that if his ſon in law John Beresford, or Basford, mentioned above, then at Trinity college, ſhould prove a good pro⯑ficient [235] in the latin tongue, ‘"I will not fail to ſue to my lord cardinall's grace for him:"’ in order that he ‘"might, as is ſaid in another letter, attende uppon his grace."’ Of the cardinal's character it will be ſuffi⯑cient to obſerve, that he is more endeared to poſterity by private virtues and amiable qua⯑lifications, than ennobled by birth and dig⯑nities. Inſtead of imbruing his hands in the blood of martyrs, and loading the conſciences of mankind with arbitrary decrees and unna⯑tural edicts, he correſponded with learned men, and introduced into England the pure and uſeful elegancies of claſſical compoſition^l. [236] Sir Thomas Pope ſubmitted to the cardi⯑nal the ſtatutes of his college, as appears from a letter to the Preſident: which, while it pays a compliment to the cardinal's taſte, likewiſe illuſtrates what has been before ob⯑ſerved about the ſtate of literature at this pe⯑riod. ‘"My lord cardinall's grace has had the overſeeinge of my ſtatutes. He much lykes well that I have therein ordered the latin tonge^m to be redde to my ſchollers. But he advyſes me to order the greeke to be more taught there, than I have provyd⯑ed. This purpoſe I well lyke: but I fear the tymes will not bear it nowⁿ. I re⯑member when I was a yong ſcholler at Eton, the greeke tongue was growing apace: the ſtudie of which is now alate much decaid^o."’ The paſſages in the let⯑ters above cited likewiſe inform us, how far [237] ſir Thomas Pope was connected with THIRL⯑BY, biſhop of Ely^p. He was conſtituted the firſt, and only biſhop of Weſtminſter by Henry the eighth^q. He was, by Edward the ſixth, tranſlated to Norwich, and after⯑wards by queen Mary to Ely; by whom he was alſo appointed a privy counſellor^r, and joined in commiſſion with ſir Thomas Pope and others for the ſuppreſſion of heretics^s. By all theſe princes he was much eſteemed for his experience in political affairs, and fre⯑quently employed as an envoy to foreign courts. In the reign of Elizabeth he was ejected and impriſoned for perſevering in po⯑pery; but was afterwards received into the family of archbiſhop Parker, who, not more on account of his former dignity, than of his learning, candor, and affability, treated him with due reſpect and humanity^t. WHYTE, biſhop of Wincheſter, became the firſt viſitor of Trinity college in Oxford. It is reaſonable to ſuppoſe, that ſir Thomas Pope's real motive for appointing the biſhops of Wincheſter to be viſitors of his college, [238] originated from Gardiner, who was the biſhop of Wincheſter when the foundation was pro⯑jected; and who, moreover, had been gover⯑nor of a college at Cambridge; was now chancellor of that univerſity, a learned civi⯑lian, a ſcholar of the firſt rank, an eminent patron of literature^u, and bore the greateſt [239] ſway in all civil and eccleſiaſtical affairs. But Gardiner dying while the ſtatutes were yet [240] under conſideration, and Whyte ſucceeding to the biſhoprick, although not confirmed till [241] after they were actually delivered to the new ſociety^w, the founder by this unexpected change of circumſtances was not ſo far reduced to a ſtate of indetermination and indifference, as to wiſh to depart from his appointment. Sir Thomas Pope in a letter to the preſident of the college, dated May the twenty-ſixth, 1558, acknowledges a very particular favor, which ‘"my lord of Wyncheſter and others the commiſſioners for ſpiritual matters,"’ had promiſed to grant him for the college. In another letter, dated the ſame year, to the ſame, he ſays ‘"my lord of Wyncheſter has bene ſycke with me at Tyttenhanger, but now returns to the corte. He has pro⯑myſed to give his coat-armur for the grete [242] glas-windowe ther in my hall^x."’ In a manuſcript greek pſalter on vellum, in the college library, I find the following entry in ſir Thomas Pope's own hand. ‘"Mem. that the reverend father in god, John buſhop of Wynton gave me three bokes. THO. POPE^y."’ Whyte, who was firſt ſchoolmaſter^z, and afterwards warden of Wincheſter college^a, was made ſucceſſively biſhop of Lincoln^b and Wincheſter^c by queen Mary^d. He was a man of learning and eloquence^e; but his [243] religious prejudices of courſe diſqualified him from retaining his preferments after the firſt year of Elizabeth; who was much offended at the panegyric which he too liberally be⯑ſtowed on Mary, when he preached at her funeral^f; and ſoon afterwards commanded him to be impriſoned for making a public appearance in his pontifical veſtments^g. He had alſo incurred no ſmall ſhare of the queen's diſpleaſure for his behaviour at the ſolemn conference held in Weſtminſter-hall, before her majeſty, the privy council, and both houſes of parliament; at which, with three other catholic biſhops, he was appoint⯑ed to diſpute againſt a ſelect number of the reformed party^h. He was a benefactor to [244] both Wykeham's collegesⁱ in which he had the happineſs to be educated. Of ſir Thomas Pope's intimacy with ſir THOMAS WHYTE, the founder of ſaint John's college in Oxford, I have before mentioned proofs^k. And to theſe evidences we may add, that their inter⯑eſts and attachments tended the ſame way: for we find ſir Thomas Whyte affording ſig⯑nal ſervices to queen Mary againſt the rebel Wyat and his followers, while lord mayor of London^l; in conſequence of which, he was knighted by the queen^m. But a ſimilitude of un⯑dertakings for the propagation of letters might otherwiſe have naturally produced a friendſhip between ſir Thomas Whyte and ſir Tho⯑mas Pope; as they were both, at the ſame [245] time, employed in the ſame acts of public and literary beneficence. Lord WILLIAMS of THAME generouſly concurred with ſir Thomas Pope in treating the princeſs Eliza⯑beth, amidſt her unmerited and oppreſſive perſecutions, with proper regardⁿ. He is mentioned in a letter of ſir Thomas Pope to the preſident of Trinity college^o: ‘"I wold be glad to lerne whether my lord Williams and Mr. Aſhfeld^p, gave the ii Buckes to my college at the [act] commenſement."’ Lord Williams having enjoyed many eminent favors from Henry the eighth, and Edward the ſixth, was by queen Mary created a baron in reward for his faithful ſervices at her ac⯑ceſſion. He continued to receive freſh ho⯑nors from queen Elizabeth, and was ap⯑pointed preſident of the council in the prin⯑cipality of Wales^q. Biſhop Ridley, when bound to the ſtake, requeſted lord Williams then preſent, to ſollicit queen Mary, that the epiſcopal leaſes which he had granted, while biſhop of London, to many poor tenants, might remain and be confirmed. This was [246] the ſole anxiety that diſquieted the compo⯑ſure of the dying martyr. But lord Williams promiſed to recommend this petition to the utmoſt of his power, and it was accordingly performed^r.

It is natural to ſuppoſe, that ſir Thomas Pope was nearly connected with ſeveral other perſons of eminence and diſtinction in the courts of Henry the eighth and queen Mary. That he was in high confidence and eſteem with the latter, may, beſide many other ar⯑guments, be concluded from a paſſage in the ſtatutes of his college: by which it appears, that he expected her majeſty, who profeſſed herſelf ſo zealous a patroneſs to the univer⯑ſity, together with king Philip, would ho⯑nor the college with a royal viſit^s.

But among his friends I muſt not forget to mention THOMAS SLYTHURSTE^t, whom he appointed the firſt Preſident of his col⯑lege; and had before probably preferred, by [247] his intereſt with the queen, to a canonry of Windſor. He ſeems to have conceived a high opinion of Slythurſte's learning and pru⯑dence; whom, from the truſt committed to his charge, we reaſonably may imagine to have been a perſon of diſtinguiſhed worth and abilities. In a general Addreſs to the new ſociety, annexed to the ſtatutes of the college, he particularly compliments the pre⯑ſident for his remarkable moderation of tem⯑per, his eminent learning, experience, pru⯑dence, and probity; obſerving moreover, in juſtification of his choice, that he ſhould have acted in vain, if he had not added to the benefit of his foundation ſuch a governor, ſo properly qualified in every requiſite accom⯑pliſhment; one completely fitted for the dif⯑ficult and critical taſk of conducting the firſt beginnings of a recent inſtitution, and to whom therefore, borrowing the character of a father in that of a founder, he with plea⯑ſure entruſted the education of his children. On various occaſions, ſir Thomas Pope ap⯑pears to have placed the greateſt confidence in his friendſhip, advice, and judgement. Many of the founder's letters to Slythurſte contain free conſultations about adjuſting the [248] endowment, amending the ſtatutes^u, and re⯑gulating other articles of his young ſociety; and ſometimes relate to the domeſtic con⯑cerns of his own family. I find him fre⯑quently viſiting the founder at Clerkenwell and Tyttenhanger. The ſudden revolution, however, of religion, at the acceſſion of queen Elizabeth, prevents us from knowing much more of his chaaracter and behaviour in this ſituation: for in September, 1559, he [249] was ejected from his headſhip by the Queen's viſitors, and committed a priſoner to the Tower of London; where he died of grief, 1560, partly for the death of his honored friend and munificent patron the founder, and partly for the loſs of his preferments.

SECT. VIII.

AN anecdote equally ridiculous and ſcan⯑dalous, has been propagated by Antony Wood, highly injurious to the honor of ſir THOMAS POPE; which, notwithſtanding it appears at firſt ſight ſtrongly to confute itſelf, I ſhall here examine and diſprove^a It origi⯑nated from Henry Cuffe, the famous ſecretary of the unfortunate earl of Eſſex, who was executed, ſoon after his maſter, in 1601.

Cuffe, being a boy of the moſt promiſing abilities and uncommon proficiency in litera⯑ture, was ſent at fifteen years of age, by Lady Elizabeth Powlett, often mentioned above, from Hinton ſaint George in Somerſetſhire, to Trinity college in Oxford, where he was elected ſcholar on the twentyfifth of May, [251] 1578^b. Within five years he was admitted fellow, May 30, 1583^c. But even in this ſituation, the ſame diſcontented and arro⯑gant ſpirit, which afterwards hurried him to an ignominious end, could not be ſuppreſſed. Soon after his admiſſion, when he was now not more than twenty years of age, and in the year of his probation, he endeavoured to defame his founder by a falſe inſinuation, which ſavored alike of petulance and ingrati⯑tude; and which, had it been true, deſerved animadverſion. The matter being reported to Lady Powlett the foundreſs, ſhe tranſmitted a mandate to the college, ordering him to be inſtantly removed from his fellowſhip. This we learn from the words of the college regiſ⯑ter. ‘"Reſignante CUFFO, et locum Litteris Fundatricis dante ^d."’ The cauſe of his amo⯑tion is twice mentioned by the Oxford anti⯑quary. In the ATHENAE he ſays, that Cuffe ‘"was forced to reſign his fellowſhip of Tri⯑nity college, for ſpeaking certain matters though true, which redounded to the great diſcredit of the FOUNDER^e."’ In another place, however, he tells the whole ſtory with⯑out [252] reſerve, and produces his authority. ‘"Doctor Bathurſt told me that our Cuffe was of Trinity college, and expelled from thence upon this account: the founder, ſir Thomas Pope, would, wherſoever he he went viſiting his friend, ſteal one thing or other he could lay his hands on, put it in his pocket, or under his gown. This was ſuppoſed rather an humour than of diſhoneſty. Now Cuffe, upon a time, with his fellows being merry, ſaid, a pox this is a poor beggarly college indeed, the plate that our founder ſtole would build ſuch another, which coming to the Pre⯑ſident's ears, he was thereupon ejected^f."’ The reader muſt have already noticed the glaring inconſiſtency of theſe two curious narratives. In the firſt, ſir Thomas Pope, is by implication at leaſt, repreſented as a thief: in the next, his diſhoneſty is ſoftened into humour and jocularity. That the whole is a miſrepreſentation, and a jumble of cir⯑cumſtances, appears from an original paper in the hand-writing of Doctor Bathurſt. ‘"Secretary Cuffe was expelled from a fel⯑lowſhip of Trinity college, on this ac⯑count. Our founder, when upon a viſit, would often carry away a ſilver cup under [253] his gown for the joke-ſake, ſending it back the next day to laugh at his friend. Cuffe being merry at ANOTHER COLLEGE with ſome of his boon companions, ſaid, A pox this is a beggarlie college indeed, the plate that our founder ſtole would build another as good. Theſe words being told to the Preſident, he was ejected. This I have often heard from my predeceſſour doctor preſident Kettell who was contemporarie with Cuffe^g."’ In the margin, Bathurſt has recorded the name of the other college, which Cuffe was pleaſed to treat in ſuch terms of contempt, and which needs not here to be mentioned. Indeed, it was no part of the accuſation againſt Cuffe, that, as Wood's context inſinuates, his pleaſantry led him to depreciate the buildings of his founder: but that he wantonly converted one of his practi⯑cal jokes, a ſpecies of humour not uncommon among our feſtive anceſtors, into a petty larceny. On the whole, we now perceive that Wood has inaccurately related this ſtory from a caſual converſation with Bathurſt, which he remembered as imperfectly. As to Cuffe, I know not whether he ſtill con⯑tinued at Oxford after this ejection. But [254] having great addreſs, and much real merit, about three years afterwards, that is in the year 1586, he was choſen fellow of Merton college. Being an admirable Grecian, he was about the ſame time made profeſſor of Greek in the univerſity. It was in this de⯑partment, that he aſſiſted Columbanius in the firſt edition of Longus's elegant PASTORAL ROMANCE, which was printed at Florence in 1598^h. He was no leſs eminent as a logician and a diſputant. His intimate friend Camden, to whoſe BRITANNIA, at its firſt appearance, he prefixed an excellent Greek epigram, characterizes Cuffe, as a man of exquiſite learning and genius, but of a fac⯑tious and perverſe temper^l. Notwithſtand⯑ing the ſevere check he received at Trinity college, he generouſly preſented to the library there ſeveral volumes. Perhaps ſome readers will be candid enough to think, that his ex⯑pulſion from this ſociety was rather owing to an unguarded vivacity of diſpoſition, than to any malignity of mind. Our hiſtorians ſay, that the earl of Eſſex, who began, after a [255] tedious confinement, to feel the dangers of his ſituation, diſmiſſed Cuffe from his ſer⯑vice and family, for turbulence and inſo⯑lence^k. Eſſex was unfortunate in not having before perceived theſe qualities, in a man who ſhared ſo much of his confidence.

SECT. IX.

FROM a recapitulation of what has been ſaid, the following character of ſir THO⯑MAS POPE ariſes. He appears to have been a man eminently qualified for buſineſs; and al⯑though not employed in the very principal departments of ſtate, he poſſeſſed peculiar talents and addreſs for the management and execution of public affairs. His natural abi⯑lities were ſtrong, his knowledge of the world deep and extenſive, his judgment ſolid and diſcerning. His circumſpection and prudence in the conduct of negociations entruſted to his charge, were equalled by his fidelity and perſeverance. He is a conſpicuous inſtance of one, not bred to the church, who without the advantages of birth and patrimony, by the force of underſtanding and induſtry, raiſed himſelf to opulence and honorable employments. He lived in an age when the peculiar circumſtances of the times afforded obvious temptations to the moſt abject de⯑ſertion of principle: and few periods of our hiſtory can be found, which exhibit more numerous examples of occaſional compliance [257] with frequent changes. Yet he remained unbiaſſed and uncorrupted amid the general depravity. Under Henry the eighth, when on the diſſolution of the monaſteries, he was enabled by the opportunities of his ſitua⯑tion to enrich himſelf with their revenues by fraudulent or oppreſſive practices, he behaved with diſintereſted integrity; nor does a ſingle inſtance occur upon record which impeaches his honor. In the ſucceeding reign of Ed⯑ward the ſixth, a ſudden check was given to his career of popularity and proſperity: he retained his original attachment to the catholic religion; and on that account, loſt thoſe marks of favor or diſtinction which were ſo liberally diſpenſed to the ſycophants of Somerſet, and which he might have eaſily ſecured by a temporary ſubmiſſion to the reigning ſyſtem. At the acceſſion of Mary, he was reſtored to favor; yet he was never inſtrumental or active in the tyrannies of that queen which diſgrace our annals. He was armed with diſcretionary powers for the ſuppreſſion of heretical innovations; yet he forbore to gratify the arbitrary demands of his bigotted miſtreſs to their utmoſt extent, nor would he participate in forwarding the barbarities of her bloody perſecutions. In the guardianſhip of the princeſs Elizabeth, [258] the unhappy victim of united ſuperſtition, jealouſy, revenge and cruelty, his humanity prevailed over his intereſt; and he leſs re⯑garded the diſpleaſure of the vigilant and unforgiving queen, than the claims of injur⯑ed innocence. If it be his crime to have ac⯑cumulated riches, let it be remembered, that he conſecrated a part of thoſe riches, not amid the terrors of a death-bed, nor in the dreams of old age, but in the prime of life, and the vigour of underſtanding, to the pub⯑lic ſervice of his country; that he gave them to future generations, for the perpetual ſup⯑port of literature and religion.