'A consideration
of the degrees of responsibility and guilt of the various classes who engaged
in the overthrow of our Lady’s Dowry.'
Taken from ‘Our Lady’s Dowry’ by Father
Bridgett CSsR
The Clergy
I have just said
that Catholics, in looking back to the history of devotion to our Lady in
England, have nothing of which to be ashamed. In one sense this is most true.
The Dowry was the creation of saints, and its effects were sanctity; and the
men who overthrew it did so only when they ceased to be Catholics, and by means
the most base and unworthy. And yet I cannot forget that our Lady’s Dowry in
England was not destroyed by an incursion of unbaptised heathens, nor by
Protestants brought up from infancy in anti-Catholic prejudice, and taught to
connect the honour of the Son in some strange fashion with the dishonour or
neglect of the Mother. No, alas! The
enemies of our Lady had been children of the Catholic Church; they had lisped
the name of Mary in infancy, and been taught by pious mothers to kneel before
her statues. They were even priests of her Divine Son; and they were monks, who
had made a special profession of love and veneration towards her that they
might more closely and efficaciously resemble Him. The Blessed Virgin could indeed complain, as
Jesus Christ had done, by the mouth of the Psalmist; ‘Even the man of my peace,
in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, hath greatly supplanted me’ (Ps. xI. 10)
About 150 years
before the destruction came, an English Dominican, Father Bromyard, writing on
the sins of the clergy, had ventured to foretell the result; and he uses a
comparison curiously in harmony with the subject of this work. ‘The state of
the modern Church,’ he wrote, ‘is well figured in the following history. A man had been long pondering over and
wondering at the state of Christendom, when he fell asleep, and in a dream a
statue, as of a most beautiful lady, appeared to him; and while he was lost in
admiration, a voice asked him whose image it was. He replied that he thought it
must be the image of the most Blessed Virgin.
Whereupon the statue was turned round, so that its’ back appeared to
him, and that was all decayed and rotten.
And again the voice said, “What do you now think?” “It is not the Virgin
Mary,” he said, “for of her it is written that she is ‘all fair’.” When, then,
he wished to know who it was, the voice said, “It is the image of Christendom,
which in the beginning was very beautiful, but in the latter end is shamefully
destroyed.” ‘All this being considered,’ continued Bromyard, ‘it will be no
wonder if the spiritual ruin of all Christendom shall follow, first in the
corruption of morals, and even perhaps in external chastisements. Even now we often see and hear of such, and
we fear that more will come; for as by reason of such sins the temple and
kingdom of the Jews were overthrown, as we behold them, so is it to be feared
that it may happen to Christians. And we
seem to have a foretaste of what will happen in what we now see, for a great
part of the world which was formerly Christian is now occupied by the Saracens.
When the
calamity was still more imminent, one of those who had taken a leading part in
resisting the new doctrines, Sir Thomas More, was waiting in prison the death
that he knew was certain. With a piece of coal – for pen and ink were refused
him- he wrote his ‘Dialogue of Comfort
against Tribulation’. He supposes the
dialogue to take place between two Hungarians; and under cover of discussing a
threatened invasion of the Turks, he foretells what he sees is coming upon
England from the tyranny of Henry. ‘But now, cousin, this tribulation of the
Turk, if he so persecute us for the faith, that those that will forsake their
faith shall keep their goods, and those shall lose their goods that will not
leave their faith – this manner of persecution, lo, shall like a touchstone try
them, and show the feigned from the true-minded.’
Alas, the Turk
came, and the souls of men were tried. Among the rich and noble, among even the
priests of the sanctuary, but few comparatively were found with Fisher and
More, ready to sacrifice all for the faith of Christ.
The nobles and
Gentry.
Sir Thomas More
Sir Thomas was a
shrewd observer of the times. He did not expect to find much heroic virtue in
England in the sixteenth century.
‘In the ease,’
says one of the speakers in his dialogue, ‘where they have yet their substance
untouched in their own hands, and that the keeping or losing shall hang both in
their own hands by the Turk’s (Henry’s) offer, upon the retaining or renouncing
of the Christian faith; here, uncle, I find it that this temptation is most
sore and most perilous. For I fear me
that we shall find few of such as have much to lose that shall find in their
hearts so suddenly to forsake their goods.
‘Antony. That fear I much, cousin,
too. But thereby shall it well appear
that, seemed they never so good and virtuous before, yet were their hearts
inwardly, in the deep sight of God, not sound and sure.’
Things were even
worse than Sir Thomas thought. Many were
not tried by the fear of losing their goods, but by the hope of gaining those
of others. Mr Froude has attempted to
vindicate the reign of Henry from the charge of having been a reign of terror,
and the conduct of Lords and Commons from the accusation of cowardice and
servility. ‘What means’, he asks
triumphantly, ‘had Henry VIII at his disposal to compel their compliance or
punish their disobedience? He had a mere handful of men, whose number he never
attempted to increase. The complications of this reign,’ he continues, ‘require
far subtler and more delicate explanation.
Cruel deeds were done, but they were done by the alternating influences
of the two great parties in the State, to whom nothing was wrong which furthered
their separate objects.’
Without any
sympathy with Mr Froude’s attempt to justify Henry, I cannot but concur to a
great extent in his estimate of the nobility and gentry of England in the
sixteenth century. They were indeed
fallen from the spirit of the great warriors and statesmen, the noble gentlemen
and bold citizens, in whom devotion to our Lady had been linked with true
chivalry. Henry had subtler means at his command than the terror of the sword.
His nobles and gentry were men who could be bought by money; and the plunder of
the shrines and monasteries gave him the means of buying their allegiance.
The unblushing
avarice which made them become reformers may be seen in the following letter of
Sir Thomas Elyot to Cromwell. ‘This Elyot was’, says Mr Wright, ‘a
distinguished diplomatist, a man of great learning, and had been an intimate
friend of Sir Thomas More.’ It must have
been such friends that More had in mind when he doubted their resistance of
temptation:
‘My Lord,’
writes Elyot to Cromwell two years after the death of his friend Sir Thomas
More,
‘forasmuch as I
suppose that the king’s most gentle communication with me, and also his most
comfortable report unto the lords of me, proceeded at your afore-remembered
recommendations, I am animate to importune your good lordship, with most hearty
desires, to continue my good lord, in augmenting the king’s good estimation of
me; whereof I promise you before God your lordship shall never have cause to
repent.
‘And where’
(whereas) ‘I perceive that ye suspect that I favour not truly Holy Scripture, I
would God that the king and you might see the most secret thoughts of my heart;
surely ye should then perceive that, the order of charity saved, I have in as
much detestation as any man living all vain superstitions, superfluous
ceremonies, slanderous jugglings, counterfeit miracles, arrogant usurpations of
men called spiritual and masking religious, and all other abusions of Christ’s
holy doctrine and laws. And as much I
enjoy’ (rejoice) ‘at the king’s godly proceeding to the due reformation of the
said enormities as any his grace’s poor subject living.'
‘I therefore
beseech your good lordship now to lay apart the remembrance of the amity
between me and Sir Thomas More, which was but usque ad aras, as is the proverb, considering that I was never so
much addict unto him as I was unto truth and fidelity toward my sovereign lord,
as God is my judge.’
Having approved
of the king’s godly proceeding, and professed his love of pure and reformed
religion according to the Gospel of Cranmer and Cromwell, and repudiated the
friendship of the glorious martyr now in heaven, he comes at last to the end
and purpose of his letter: ‘And whereas my special trust and only expectation
is to be holpen by the means of your lordship, and natural shamefastness more
reigneth in me than is necessary (!), so that I would not press to the king’s
majesty without your lordship’s assistance, with whom I have sundry times
declared my indigence, and whereof it hath happened, I therefore most humbly
desire you, my special good lord, so to bring me unto the king’s most noble
remembrance, that of his most bounteous liberality it may like his highness to
reward me with some convenient portion of his suppressed lands, whereby I may
be able to continue my life according to that honest degree whereunto his grace
hath called me…….
And whatever
portion of land that I shall attain by the king’s gift, I promise to give to
your lordship, the first year’s fruits, with mine assured and faithful heart
and service.’ (ack. ‘Letters on the Suppression
of the Monasteries’ letter Ixv.)
Such were the
men on whose word Englishmen have learnt to believe in the ‘slanderous
jugglings and counterfeit miracles’ of the monks. These beggars for plunder,
these givers and receivers of bribes, are the men who set themselves to reform
‘the abusions of Christ’s holy doctrines and laws.’ Such were many of the
Catholic gentry of that day. They fawned on Henry VIII, and renounced the
authority of the Pope in order to enjoy prosperity and to increase their
riches; and they were willing to be reconciled to the Pope again under Mary,
provided they could still keep their sacrilegious spoils. Their plan was, as
Sir Thomas More put it, ‘not to be compelled utterly to forsake Christ nor all
the whole Christian faith, but only some such parts thereof as may not stand
with Mahomet’s law.’ Sir Thomas answered this theory as follows: ‘Break one of
Christ’s commandments and break all.
Forsake one point of His faith, and forsake all, as for any thank you
get for the remnant ….. Christ will not
take your service to halves, but will that you should love Him with all your
heart. And because that while He was
living here fifteen hundred years ago, He foresaw this mind of yours that you
have now, with which you would fain serve Him in some such fashion, as you might
keep your worldly substance still and rather forsake His service than put all
your substance from you, He telleth you
plain, fifteen hundred years ago, by His own mouth, that He will no such
service from you, saying, “Non potestis Deo servire et Mammonae, ----You cannot serve both God and your riches
together.”
But men like Sir
Thomas Elyot learnt their morality from other teachers than Jesus Christ, and
went along with Sir Thomas More, as they well said, only usque ad aras – to the church door, or to the door of heaven; there
they let him go in alone, since there was a chance of passing to it only
through the Tower. (to be
continued)
***********
Father Bridgett wrote this book from which the above article is taken, about one hundred years ago. He quotes a letter from Sir Thomas Elyot to Cromwell as an example of the moral cowardice and personal greed so often evident in the behaviour of the English nobles and gentry of that period. I was keen to find out more about Sir Thomas Elyot, which I was able to do courtesy of Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Brittanica. Certainly Elyot's letter to Cromwell suggested a man to whom personal friendship and loyalty meant little or nothing, but according to Wikipedia he did not obtain any share in the spoils acquired from the dissolution of the monasteries, although he undoubtedly had major financial pressures. Also Sir Thomas More had been dead for two years when Elyot wrote the letter. It may just be that Elyot's
obsequious request to Cromwell was related more to solving his financial difficulties, than anything else. He was certainly an intellectual of high repute, but there is nothing in Wikipedia to suggest that he was a Catholic. This does not of course, make any more acceptable, the request for 'some of the king's repressed lands' nor the promise to Cromwell of 'the first year's fruits of the land'. But it does perhaps, shed a slightly different and perhaps clearer light, on the purpose of the letter.
Sir Thomas Elyot (Holbein)
' As ambassador, Elyot had been involved in ruinous
expense, and on his return he wrote to Thomas Cromwell,
begging to be excused from serving as sheriff of Cambridgeshire
and Huntingdonshire, on the score of his poverty. The request
was not granted. He was one of the commissioners in the inquiry
instituted by Cromwell prior to the suppression of the monasteries,
but he did not obtain any share of the spoils. There is little
doubt that his known friendship for Thomas More militated
against his chances of success, for in a letter addressed to Cromwell
he admitted his friendship for More, but protested that he
rated higher his duty to the king.'
(ack. Wikipedia)
