Chapter XI: Part 11

The Countess of Bridgwater was greatly persecuted during the trial of her niece Queen Katharine Howard, and almost every means was resorted to to implicate her with that unfortunate woman. The Earl, her husband, plunged into the vortex of expensive frivolities that surrounded the Court of Henry VIII., and it is related irretrievably crippled, if not finally ruined himself by extravagant display at the Field of the Cloth of Gold. He died without issue, in seclusion and comparative penury at the little rural parish of South-Perrott, near Crewkerne, and was there buried 12 April, 1548,--his wife survived him, and was interred in the Norfolk Chantry in Lambeth church, 11 May, 1554.[42]

[42] For further account of this Earl, and his father Lord
Daubeney, see "_Memorials of the West_," pages 173-220.

It was this double tie of relationship that doubtless led to the important transactions with regard to the sale or transfer of a large portion of the Earl's landed possessions to Sir Thomas Arundell, when from time to time he had necessity; or it may be by family arrangement to protect himself and wife from forfeiture, in those days of peril and consequent attainder and confiscation.

In 1536-8-9 Henry, Lord Daubeney, conveyed to his _nephew_, Sir Thomas Arundell, his manors of Tollard-Royal, Farnham, Long-Crichell, Kershall, Goorsley, and Hampreston, with advowsons, &c., and Shaston, Wimborne-Minster, Gussage-All-Saints, Tarrant-Gunville, and Stubhampton, in the counties of Wilts and Dorset, with a clause "that if Henry, Lord Daubeney, should die without heirs to his body, the same should remain to the use of the said Sir Thomas Arundell and his heirs for ever." In 1542 the Earl conveyed the manor of South-Petherton to him. This included the manor and park of Barrington, and the forest of Roche (Neroche?) the advowson, Chantry, and free Chapel of South-Petherton, and of the Hundred, and lands at Yarcombe, &c.

And this leads us to his last and most important purchase, that of the Castle and Park of Wardour, on 4 July, 1 Edward VI., 1547.

Wardour Castle and its olden inhabiters have a special interest interwoven in our little narratives, three or four of the subjects of them, having successively, either occupied or possessed it.

About the year 1495 the Earl of Ormond granted a lease of it to the giant Sir John, afterward Lord Cheney, K.G.,--the "unhorsed at Bosworth,"--and it is not at all improbable that he may have died there, as he was buried at the not very far-distant cathedral of Salisbury.

Then on the 4 July, 14 Henry VII., 1499, three years after Lord Cheney's death, Thomas, Earl of Ormond, sold the Castle of Wardour to Robert, the first Lord Willoughby de Broke, "our Steward of Household," and according to one account, he is said to have died there, although his monument is found and he is probably buried at Callington, in far-distant Cornwall.

Lord Willoughby de Broke and his descendants appear to have retained possession of it until 1547, when his ultimate heiress Lady Elizabeth Greville and her husband Sir Fulke disposed of it to Sir Thomas Arundell.

Thus much, as a short notice of the principal landed possessions acquired by Sir Thomas Arundell. Some by gift of his father, others by arrangement with his uncle Lord Bridgwater, or by purchase from different possessors, and a further large portion partly by purchase,--if it may be so-called,--and partly probably by free grant from the King, Henry VIII., the whole of which in the aggregate would constitute Sir Thomas a wealthy man, and a west-country magnate of leading position.

A curious circumstance becomes noticeable here. The sale and grants of property acquired under Henry VIII. were the despoiled possessions of the Church, the property of the suppressed and dismantled Abbey of Shaftesbury, and dissolved Priory or College of Slapton. Yet the Arundells (as also the Howards to whom they were so nearly allied) were at the time, and still continue to be, specially distinguished by their fealty to the Roman communion, the antient faith of their fathers. This fact, however, does not seem to have hindered his acceptance of what at the time, by common consent had been "set aside for the Lord." To which it may be answered, if he had not acquired it, many others were doubtless eagerly waiting for the chance; and it was never likely to return to fulfil the original purpose of the donors.

Notwithstanding the dangers that surrounded the Court of Henry VIII., and the perilous proximity of relationship in which, by marriage, he stood toward that monarch, specially amid the complications that arose during the impeachments, trials, and sad deaths of the two Queens, his wife's relatives; yet neither Sir Thomas, nor Lady Arundell, seems to have been involved or suspected in any way, indeed, to the contrary, as he appears subsequently to have experienced Henry's favour, it being three years after Queen Katharine Howard's death, when he received the grant of the Priory of Slapton from that king.

All this points to his being a prudent man, keeping aloof from the dangerous intrigues continually arising, and he has been described as a wise administrator. He was grandson of Cicely Bonville, the great west-country heiress, and his mother Elizabeth names him as one of the executors to her will, and therein describes him as "her trusty and well-beloved son."

Before the reign of Henry VIII. closed, its last victim was led to the scaffold, the accomplished Earl of Surrey, and nephew of Sir Thomas. The Duke of Norfolk, his father, with cruel obduracy had presided over the trial of his niece the unfortunate Queen Anne Boleyn, and now the same fate had overtaken his son. The executioner was waiting for himself also, but the unexpected death of Henry occurred just in time to save him. The "Fair Geraldine" of the poet Earl was a cousin of Sir Thomas on his mother's side, being the daughter of Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, who married the Lady Eleanor, probably a younger sister of the Lady Elizabeth Grey, mother of Sir Thomas.

With the conclusion of the reign of Henry VIII., the larger and presumably, on the whole, happier portion of the life of Sir Thomas Arundell may be said to have ended. The child-king, Edward VI., in January, 1547, commenced his reign, and four short years only were destined to pass before Sir Thomas was laid in a traitor's grave.

In 1549 a distinguished office was conferred on him, one that his father had held before him, and of peculiar honour in his native county, that of Receiver General of the Duchy of Cornwall.

This year, however, the first cloud appeared over his hitherto fortunate career. Himself, with his brother Sir John Arundell of Lanherne, were both suspected of being implicated in the rebellion of their uncle Humphrey Arundell, Governor of St. Michael's Mount, "a man well-esteemed for military services." This was the religious insurrection, demanding the old ritual, and antagonistic to the reformed service of the Church, which began in Cornwall, and gathering strength as it advanced, laid ineffectual siege to Exeter, where, however, the citizens, during their captivity, were reduced to great straits. The insurgents then marched to meet Lord Russell, who was stationed with some force at Honiton, but he defeated them with considerable loss at Feniton (or Fenny) Bridges. They then retreated to Clyst-Heath, near Exeter, where--

"they had brought with them a crucifix upon a cart, covered with
a canopy, and beset with crosses, tapers, banners, holy bread and
water, as a representation of those things for which they
fought."

At Clyst-Heath, Lord Gray with his troops, reinforced with those under Lord Russell, dispersed the ignorant priest-led rustics with great slaughter;--

"The dispersion of the insurgents was followed by the same
conduct on the part of the royal army, as if they had put to
route a foreign enemy in his own country, 'for the whole country
was then put to the spoil, and every soldier sought for his best
profit.'"

Sir Anthony Kingston, as Provost-Marshal of the king's army, was commissioned to try and punish the delinquents, and his cruel and brutal conduct was quite on an equality with that of the wretched Jeffreys on a similar errand a century afterward;--

"Gibbets were set up in various places, on which great numbers of
the leaders of the rebellion were hanged. Others, and especially
Arundell, the chief captain, were carried to London, and there
executed. It was reckoned that about four thousand in all
perished by the sword or by the hands of the executioner, of
those engaged in this Devonshire (and Cornwall) insurrection."

Humphrey Arundell, their uncle, was conveyed to London and hanged at Tyburn in January, 1549-50. And then it is recorded in the Council book,--

"XXX. Jan., 1549-50. Sir Thomas Arundel, Knight, committed to the
Tower by order of the board."

And further in King Edward's journal,--

"1549. Sir Thomas Arundel and Sir John (his elder brother)
committed to the Tower for conspiracies in the west partes."

It is probable the Arundells, from religious motives only, sympathized with the views of the insurgents, and were not actual promoters or partakers in the movement, but on account of their kinship with the leader of the revolt they were doubtless subjects of considerable suspicion. There must, however, have apparently been other circumstances besides this, which were deemed to affect Sir Thomas unfavourably, for he does not appear to have been released from his durance in the Tower after his committal until the 4th of October, 1551, which would be a year and nine months subsequent.

Could it have been also for suspicion of aiding in the movement that led to the first humiliation of the Duke of Somerset, which occurred in the October preceding his committal to the Tower? It _may_ have been so,--or deemed so,--yet from what is left recorded, his presumed action seems to point to the contrary.

"One of the '_Metrical Visions_' of George Cavendish, the
Gentleman Usher of Cardinal Wolsey, furnishes some biographical
particulars of Sir Thomas Arundell, namely, that he was educated
with Cardinal Wolsey, and was Chancellor to Queen Katharine
Howard. He is also made to confess that 'I was the cheaf
councellor in the first overthrowe of the Duke of Somerset, which
few men did knowe.'

"With regard to his fate, there is a curious passage in a very
rare book, bishop Ponet's '_Short Treatise on Politic Power_.'
Writing of the Earl of Warwick, Ponet states, 'at the erles sute
Arundell hathe his head with the axe divided from his
shoulders.'"[43]

and commenting on the same subject,--

"Bishop Ponet in his '_Treatise on Politic Power_,' says in
reference to his (Sir Thomas') arrest in 1549, 'he conspired with
that ambitious and subtil Alcibiades, the Earl of Warwick, after
Duke of Northumberland, to pull down the good Duke of Somerset,
King Edward's uncle and protector,'--if this be correct it is
singular he should have been afterwards re-arrested for
conspiring with Somerset against Northumberland."[44]

[43] Note in _Machyn's Diary_, by J. G. NICOLLS.

[44] _The Chapel in the Tower_, by DOYNE C. BELL.

On such slender and second-hand evidence and apparently so improbable, as to his helping at first to pull down the Protector, not much may be said;--men's views and movements at the time often veered amid these intrigues for the possession or direction of the supreme power,--but Sir Thomas' after-implication with the Duke seems to refute it. That the Earl of Warwick (Northumberland) may have used his influence for the destruction of Sir Thomas, in the company of his rival,--the greater victim,--may be accepted without much scruple.

Sir Thomas was released from the Tower on the 4th of October, and in the meanwhile, events as to Somerset's overthrow, were now rapidly developing themselves to a conclusion.

Northumberland--the rival and enemy of the Protector--had given intelligence of a conspiracy in which Somerset, Sir Thomas Arundell, Sir Ralph Vane, and several others were concerned. Of course there was the inevitable informer, and in this case a certain knight, called Sir Thomas Palmer, has recorded against him this unenviable notoriety.

In Sir John Hayward's _Life and Reign of K. Edward VI._, we read,--

"Herewith Sir _Thomas Palmer_, a man neither loving the Duke of
_Somerset_, nor beloved of him, was brought by the Duke of
_Northumberland_ to the King being in his garden. Here he
declared on St. George's day last before, the Duke of _Somerset_
being upon a journey towards the north, in case Sir _William
Herbert_, Master of the Horse, had not assured him he should
receive no harm, would have raised the people; and that he had
sent the Lord _Gray_ before, to know who would be his friends:
also that the Duke of Northumberland, the Marquis of Northampton,
the Earl of Pembroke, and other lords should be invited to a
banquet, and if they came with a bare company, to be set upon by
the way; if strongly, their heads should have been cut off at the
place of their feasting. He declared further that Sir _Ralph
Vane_, had two thousand men in a readiness; that Sir _Thomas
Arundell_ had assured the _Tower_, that _Seymor_ and _Hamond_,
would wait upon him, and that all the horse of the _Gendarmorie_
should be slain."

This must have been the day on which the boy-king records in his journal,--

"11 Oct., 1551. Sir Thomas Arrondel had ashuerid my Lord that the
Towre was sauf."

The "my Lord" here must have related to Somerset, which the King heard of in his conversation with Northumberland.

On the 16 October, 1551, says Grafton,--

"being Fryday, the Duke was again apprehended, and committed to
the Tower, on a charge of high treason."

And the King records,--

"This morning none was at Westminster of the conspiratours. The
first was the Duke, who came later than he was wont, of himself.
After diner he was apprehendid."

Sir John Hayward thus describes it,--

"and so after dinner, he (the Duke) was apprehended; Sir _Thomas
Palmer_, Sir _Thomas Arundel_, _Hamonde_, _Nudigates_, _John
Seymour_, and _David Seymour_, were also made prisoners, the Lord
_Gray_ being newly come out of the country was attached. Sir
_Ralph Vane_, being sent for, fled. Upon the first message it was
reported that he said that his Lord was not stout, and that if he
could get home he cared not for any; but upon pursuit he was
found in his servant's stable at Lambeth covered with straw. He
was a man of fierce spirit, both sudden and bold, of no evil
disposition, saving he thought scantiness of estate too great an
evil. All these were the same night sent to the Tower, except
Palmer, Arundel, and Vane, who were kept apart in the Court, well
guarded in chambers apart. After these followed Sir _Thomas
Holdcroft_, Sir _Miles Partridge_, Sir _Michael Stanhope_ and
others. The day following the Dutchess of _Somerset_ was sent to
the Tower, also with her were committed one _Crane_, and his
wife, and her own chamber woman. _Crane_ confessed for the most
part as _Palmer_ had done, and further added that the Lord
_Paget's_ house was the place, where the nobility being invited
to a banquet, should have lost their heads, and that the Earl of
_Arundel_ was made acquainted with the practice by Sir _Michael
Stanhope_. This _Crane_ was a man, who having consumed his own
estate, had armed himself to any mischief. All these were sworn
before the Council, and forthwith upon the information of
_Crane_, the Earl of _Arundel_, and Lord _Paget_ were sent to the
Tower."

On the _same_ day, Machyn notes,--

"1551, xvj. day of October, was had to the Towre, Sir Thomas
Arundell and Lady (with many others)."

and the King writes,--

"16 Oct. Arrondel was taken."

Twenty-seven peers took part in the trial of Somerset, his rival the Duke of Northumberland being one, and the Marquis of Winchester presided as Lord High Steward.

On the 2nd December following, narrates Grafton,--

"the sayd Duke was brought out of the Tower of London, with the
axe of the Tower borne before him, with a great number of billes,
gleves, holbardes, and polaxes attending upon him; and was had
from the Tower by water, and having shot London bridge, at five
of the clock in the morning, so came unto Westminster Hall, where
was made in the middle of the Hall a new scaffold, where all the
Lords of the King's Counsaill sate as his judges, and there was
he arraigned and charged with many articles both of treason and
felony. And when after much milde speeche, he had aunsered not
guiltie, he in all humble manner put himselfe to be tryed by his
peeres, who, after long consultation among themselves, gave their
verdict that he was not guiltie of the treason, but of the
felony."

The King says in his diary,--

"The Duke of Northumberland wold not agree that any searching of
his death shuld bee treason. So the lordis acquited him of high
treason and condemned him of treason feloniouse, and so he was
adjudged to be hangid."

As the punishment was hanging, he "departed without the ax of the Toure"--which the people outside not understanding, "shouted harf a dousen times so loud that from the halle dore it was harde at Charing Crosse plainely, and rumours went that he was quitte of all."

But his adversaries had got him too safely for release on this side of the grave, once more he was to appear before his fellow-men when the axe, and not the halter as was adjudged him, was to finish all.

On Friday, the 22nd of January following, the Duke was, at eight in the morning, beheaded on Tower Hill.

It was not until five days after the execution of the Duke that Sir Thomas Arundell, and his companion Sir Ralph Vane were put on their trial.

The first to be tried was Sir Thomas' presumed confederate, Sir Ralph Vane. Machyn relates,--

"1551-2,--The xxvii. day of January was reynyd at Westmynster
Hall, ser Raff a Vane knyght of tresun and qwyt of hytt, and cast
of felony to be hangyd."

Of this resolute and brave man, says Hayward,--

"He was charged with conspiring with _Somerset_, but his bold
answers termed rude and ruffian-like, falling into ears apt to
take offence, either only caused, or much furthered his
condemnation. 'The time hath been,' said he, 'when I was of some
esteem, but now we are in peace which reputeth the coward and
couragious alike.'"

He strongly denied that he had practised treason against the King, or any of the Lords of the Council, and added that "his blood would make Northumberland's pillow uneasy to him." The 'qwest' were not long in disposing of him, and the King comments,--

"27 Jan., 1551-2. Sir Rafe Vane was condemned of felony in
treason, aunsering like a ruffian."

The next day was appointed for Sir Thomas Arundell to appear before his judges. It was apparent they must have had very slender or unsatisfactory evidence, and it is cruel to read with what pertinacity they were required to decide on his case.

It is probable that, like the Duke of Somerset, he was taken from the Tower to Westminster Hall by water, and imagination can easily depict the various phases of the scene. Aroused early on the morning of the twenty-eighth of January, in mid-winter almost, it may be in cold and pitiless weather, escorted by the Lieutenant of the fortress, Sir John D'Arcy, and accompanied by his officers, down to the well-guarded boat waiting for him, under the shadow of the great arch that spans the Traitor's Gate, the way lit by the feeble light of a lantern, which, as they seated themselves in the little craft, faintly revealed the portcullis raised for the occasion, and the dark waters of the Thames, just discernible through it, made visible by the flickering gleam thrown upon its surface, rippling to the inconstant night-breeze. Then their emerging from the gloomy portal, the prisoner sitting silent and motionless in the stern, the officers and halberdiers ranged on each side, and in front the heads-man's official, with the dread axe resting on his shoulder. Then their passage down the quiet river, with no sound to break the solitude, but the measured splash of the oarsmen steadily rowing him to his doom. Then their landing at Westminster in the just-breaking light of morning, and the sad little procession wending its way up to the main door of the vast Hall, its dim, cavernous roof, scarcely distinguishable by the cluster of twinkling points of light gathered in its centre, where, arrayed in all the picturesque costume of the age, emphasized by the scarlet cloaks of the judges, were congregated a large body of legal and civic functionaries, the solemn array of the jurors of the 'qwest,' and a throng of anxious citizens, assembled to decide whether he was guilty, or not guilty,--if he should live or die.

But the 'qwest' had not so easy a matter before them, in the disposing of his case, as they had the day before with that of Sir Ralph Vane. The evidence was presumably of slight or doubtful character, and so the day passed by and evening arrived, but no decision was arrived at. Sir Thomas had to endure this prolonged suspense, and was taken back to the Tower again, to wait through the anxious night, and then the following morning, go through the same dread ordeal, and appear once more before his judges, to learn his fate.

The 'qwest' of the jury appear to have thoroughly and sturdily debated the guilt or innocence of the prisoner, and not being able to agree, were thereon subjected to the usual inhuman treatment of being starved in cold and darkness into agreement,--if such it may be called,--or rather a decision, one way or the other. And so they "sate shut up" in a house all that live-long night, and it was not until day-break the next morning that "they did cast him,"--the dissentients probably being wearied into compliance. "When Sir Thomas--who perhaps may justly have had latent hope that their disagreement might end favourably for him--stood before his accusers for the second time, his doom was decided on, and he heard the fearful result that "they had acquitted him of treason, and cast him of felony, to be hanged."

Machyn thus describes the assiduous process of his condemnation,--

"1551-2. The xxviij. of Januarij was reynyd sir Thomas Arundell,
Knyght, and so the qwest cold nott fynd ym tyll the morow after,
and so he whent to the Towre agayn, and then the qwest wher shutt
up tyll the morow withowt mett or drynke, or candylle or fyre,
and on the morow he came a-gayne and the qwest qwytt ym of
treasun, and cast hym of felony to be hangyd."

And Hayward soliloquizes over the unhappy event,--

"Sir _Thomas Arundel_ was with some difficulty condemned, for his
cause was brought to trial about seven of the clock in the
morning, and about noon the jurors went together, and because
they could not agree, they were shut in a house all the residue
of that day and all the night following. The next morning they
found him guilty. Unhappy man! who found the doing of anything or
nothing dangerous alike."

and the little King mechanically notes in his diary,--

"29th Jan., 1551-2. Sir Thomas Arundel was likewise cast of
felony in treason, after long controversie, for the matter was
brought in trial bie seven of the cloke in the morning 28th day;
at none the qwest went together; they sate shut up together in a
house, without meat or drinke, bicause they could not agree, all
that day and all night; this 29th day in the morning they did
cast him."

So the first act of the coming tragedy was completed, and then after they had made sure of the destruction of their victim, they were equally assiduous that he should have ample religious consolation, in order that he "may dye well,"--and so give colour to the assumption that he was rightly convicted; and seemingly seek to justify the cruel sentence, awarded under such manifest difficulty, arising from the slight grounds of the accusation preferred against him.

Therefore the very same day of his condemnation, the 29th of October,

"the Council issued orders to the Lieutenant of the Tower, 'that
Doctour Bill may from tyme to tyme resort to Sir Rauff Fane for
his instruction to dye well; and that Doctour Parker may resort
from tyme to tyme to Sir Thomas Arundell for the lyke
purpose."[45]

Both these spiritual advisers were evidently Protestants, holding office in the Reformed Church. Dr. William Bill was successively Master of St. John's and Trinity Colleges, Cambridge, and afterward Provost of Eton, Dean of Westminster, and Almoner to Queen Elizabeth. Dr. Matthew Parker was Chaplain to Edward VI., Dean of Lincoln, and afterward Archbishop of Canterbury. What faith Sir Ralph Vane professed may not be related here, but from his bold and resolute character it may be surmised to have been of an easy-going kind, and the clerical consolers sent to administer to him in his necessity might have been as acceptable as any other.

Not so to Sir Thomas Arundell; his religious adherence as a staunch Catholic was doubtless well known, and to him, the intrusion of the men named, in his hopeless distress, would have been adding still further cruelty to his sentence, by depriving him of that last preparation and final rites of the church he belonged to, which one of her own confessors could alone afford him.

Application was therefore made for this privilege, and so we find that,--

"on the 11th of February, Mr. Perne was allowed to resort to Sir
Thomas Arundell, to instruct hym to dye well."[45]

[45] BELL'S _Chapel in the Tower_.

To die well,--such was, apparently, the condition most sought for, to appear penitent, and if possible to ensure this, the strong religious point was waived, and one,--probably of the ejected religious of the previous reign,--was "allowed" admittance to the death-sentenced prisoner. The monk who came was presumably William Peryn, Prior of the Black-friars, and a distinguished preacher; he probably attended Sir Thomas in his last moments.

The last scene of this mournful progression was now at hand. On the 22nd February the Lieutenant of the Tower received instructions to give notice to--

"Sir Thomas Arundell, and Sir Rauf Vane that they should against
Friday next, prepare themselves to dye, according to their
condempnation."

But another and melancholy privilege had now to be sought for, and that was to change the ignominious method of hanging,--the punishment accorded for treason-felony,--to the less degrading death by beheading. Some influence had to be used, but it was granted. The same method of death was also extended to Sir Michael Stanhope. No alteration, however, was accorded--if sought for--with regard to the execution of the "ruffian," Sir Ralph Vane, and Sir Miles Partridge; they were to perish at the same hour at the gallows, which was probably set up beside the scaffold on Tower Hill.

Cavendish in his _Metrical Visions_, thus refers to this circumstance in the last stanza of that one relating to Sir Thomas Arundell,--

"To be hanged though my judgment ware,
Yet to do me honour they changed my sentence,
And to leese my head to ease me of my care:--
But death was the thing of all their pretence
Which they desired;--such was their conscyence
There I make an end, and I without redresse
As here ye may see me, a symple body hedlesse."

Then came the final order on the 23rd to the King's Solicitor--

"To make a warrant for the beheading Sir Thomas Arundell, and Sir
Michael Stanhope, and to perform the process of hanging of Sir
Rauf Vane and Sir Miles Partridge, who are appointed to be
executed on fryday next between ix. and xi. before noone."

The warrant was duly made out and dated the 25th,--the next day Friday, the 26th February, was fixed for their execution. Machyn thus describes the event,--

"The xxvj. day of Feybruarii the wyche was the morrow after saynt
Mathuwe day, was hedded on the Tower hill, sir Myghell Stanhope
knyght and ser Thomas Arundell, and incontenent was hangyd the
seylff sam tyme sir Raff a Vane knyght, and ser Mylles Parterege
knyght of the galowse besyd the ---- and after ther bodys wher
putt in to dyvers new coffens to be bered, and heds, in to the
Towre in cases, and ther bered."

Both Sir Thomas Arundell and Sir Michael Stanhope were interred in the Tower Chapel. Thus he followed in the same dire way, and was buried beside his two headless kinswomen laid there a few years previously.

What is to be said as to all these proceedings, and their melancholy termination, had guilt or innocence anything to do with it, or was it expediency only, that controlled the result? Sir John Hayward apparently supplies the true key as to the object of the nefarious transaction,--

"Not long after the death of Somerset, _because it was not
thought fit that such a person should be executed alone, who
could hardly be thought to offend alone_, Sir Ralph Vane and Sir
Miles Partridge were hanged on Tower Hill, Sir Michael Stanhope
and Sir Thomas Arundell were there also beheaded.

"All these took it upon their last charge, that they never
offended against the King, nor against any of his Council. God
knows whether obstinately secret or innocent, and in the opinion
of all men Somerset was much cleared by the death of those _who
were executed to make him appear faulty_."

But their deaths were not destined to go long unavenged. He who had poured the "leperous distilment" into the young king's ear, that sent Sir Thomas to his doom, and others, in company with his rival Somerset, lame-footed vengeance was on the trail of his unscrupulous, ambitious footsteps, it speedily overtook him, and the next headless body that was brought to find unconscious entrance to the Tower Chapel was that of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland.

As the grave closes over the unfortunate Sir Thomas Arundell our thoughts next follow to those he left behind him. The usual fate was awarded his possessions as a traitor, he was attainted, and they were confiscated to the Crown; but King Edward, two years after his death, restored to his widow, the Lady Elizabeth Arundell, her full dower out of her deceased husband's property.

Of course there is no direct memorial existent to Sir Thomas Arundell, but it is singular, that in the fine brass to the memory of his father, mother, and his father's second wife in St. Columb church, Cornwall, one of their children, a little _headless_ armoured figure still remains, and beside it is Sir Thomas' escutcheon,--Arundell with six quarterings, impaling Howard with four. The diminutive effigy is undoubtedly designed to represent Sir Thomas,--the label over his head that contained his name is gone. The corresponding indents of figure, shield, and label, were originally filled with a representation of his brother Sir John, his name and arms.

Sir Thomas Arundell, by his wife Elizabeth Howard, left two children, Sir Matthew, who succeeded him, and Margaret, married to Sir Henry Weston.

Sir Matthew married Margaret, daughter of Henry Willoughby[46] of Wollaton, Notts, by his wife Anne, third daughter of Thomas Grey, second Marquis of Dorset, and sister to Henry, afterward Duke of Suffolk. They were second cousins, both being the grandchildren of Cicely Bonville.

[46] The ghost of his name, and the tomb in Southleigh
churchyard, seem to haunt our little narratives, see pages 35 and 85.

With the accession of Queen Mary, matters wore a very different aspect toward the Arundells. Doubtless the Queen fully recognized and esteemed their allegiance to the antient faith, which she held in common with them, and so we find in the first year of her reign, she restored by patent to Sir Matthew, all his deceased father's lands. This does not seem to have included Wardour Castle, which appears to have been granted by lease or otherwise to the Earl of Pembroke, who greatly embellished it, but Sir Matthew subsequently, by purchase, acquired its possession from that family; it was not, however, free of the claims of the Crown as will be seen. He probably resided before this at Shaftesbury, in the house he had built out of the ruins of the Abbey.

Sir Matthew was knighted, with twenty-two other west-country gentlemen, who "were dubbed in the progress to Bristowe, anno d'ni, 1574," by Queen Elizabeth.

Once more we find ourselves in Tisbury church, and in this chancel, where the succeeding generations of the Arundells of Wardour, after the vicissitudes of this life,--and in their earlier days they had their ample share of them,--were over,--and one after another were here gathered together in the fold of death.

Sir Matthew was buried 24 Dec., 1598. This inscription commemorates him,--

IESUS.
MAT' ARUNDEL, EQUES ORDINE, INTUS DORMIT IN PULVERE.
IGNOSCAT ILLI OMNIA QUI NOSTRA TULIT CRIMINA.
DELICTA JUVENTUTIS MEE ET IGNORANTIAS MEAS NE
MEMINERIS DOMINE.
I. H. S.

Thomas, his son, succeeded him. "Prompted by the ardent and chivalrous spirit of adventurous enterprise prevalent in the reign of Elizabeth, he obtained the Queen's permission to enter the service of Rudolph II., Emperor of Germany, to whom she addressed a personal letter of recommendation of her 'kinsman.'" This was correct enough,--Queen Elizabeth was the daughter of Queen Anne Boleyn, and so grand-daughter of Lady Elizabeth Howard,--Thomas Arundell was the great-grandson of Lord Edmund Howard, her brother. In 1595, at the siege of the city of Gran, or Strigonium, in Hungary, then held by the Turks, he gave great proofs of his valour, "and that in forcing the water tower, near Strigonium, he took from the Turks their banner, slaying the bearer with his own hand." For this and other services Rudolph created him a Count of the Holy Roman Empire, which he had the temerity to accept, without getting sufficient leave from his jealous and imperious 'kinswoman' at home, and for which he appears to have suffered some confinement. It raised a dispute also at Court as to what precedence, or otherwise, this foreign distinction was entitled to, and the matter being brought before the Queen for her opinion, she characteristically replied,--

"that there was a close tie of affection between the prince and
subject; and that as chaste wives should have no glances but for
their own spouses, so should faithful subjects keep their eyes at
home, and not gaze upon foreign crowns, and she, for her part,
did not care her sheep should wear stranger's marks, nor dance
after the whistle of every foreigner."

and she intimated to the Emperor, that she had forbad him any place or precedence in England.

It is probable Queen Elizabeth had no great liking for the Arundells, being prejudiced against them, it may be on account of their religious principles. Some years before, in 1575, when Sir Matthew Arundell had re-acquired Wardour Castle and Park, she seized upon it to enforce the payment of an old Crown debt, that seems to have been owing on property Sir Thomas Arundell acquired of Henry VIII., and had not been cleared off, and which it was probable from his relationship to that monarch was never intended should be paid. The Queen, we believe, did not insist on the payment, but it shewed her semi-hostile attitude toward them then, and this incident of the acceptance of a foreign title, did not tend to improve it. King James, however straitened and antagonistic in his religious views, and natural distaste to the Roman communion, nevertheless, recognized his merits, by creating him in the second year of his reign, 4 May, 1605, Baron Arundell of Wardour, but neither Queen Elizabeth, nor that King, we believe, ever recognized his foreign title. He died at Wardour Castle, and was buried in this chancel. The following inscription is to his memory,--

THOMAS DOMINUS ARUNDELIUS,
PRIMUS BARO DE WARDOUR, SACRI ROMANI IMPERII COMES,
OBIJT 7^MO DIE NOVEMBRIS,
AETATIS SUAE 79, ANNO DOMINI 1639.

SICUT PULLUS HIRUNDINIS SIC CLAMABO.

Isaiae xxxviii. v. 14.

With this we close any extended notice of the succeeding descendants of this noble and distinguished family. Thomas his son was a devoted Royalist, and "being at the battle of Lansdown was shot in the thigh by a brace of pistol-bullets, whereof the same year he died in his Majesty's garrison at Oxford,"--the devoted and heroic Blanche Somerset his wife it was who so bravely defended Wardour Castle during the war of the Commonwealth; she died at Winchester, but both are rejoined in death here. These inscriptions occur to them,--

D. O. M.

Hic parte sua mortali quiescit, qui in coelo potiori parte vivit
immortalis THOMAS ARUNDEL, Baro Arundel de Warder, sacri Romani
imperii Comes, primogenitus nempe Thomae Arundel, Baronis etiam de
Warder, qui, ob insignia et pietatis et fortitudinis exempla in
communem Christiani nominis hostem in Hungaria ad Strigonium
praestita haereditarium hunc honoris titulum a Rodolpho secundo
meruit ipse, et ad posteros transmissit; cujus dignitatum
virtutumque hic haeres, dum vixit, sic Deo in constanti pietatis
exercito militavit in terris, ut debitum sibi in coelis triumphum
expectare videretur, ita se totum in Regis Caroli primi
obsequium, imminente in Anglia bello civili, impendit, ut in
illud opes fortunamque profuderit, ac vitam denique ipsam
lubentissime contulisset, e qua excessit Oxonii die 19^o Maij,
ann. aetatis 59, annoque reparatae salutis 1643.

And on the adjoining stone:--

D. O. M.

Hic conjugi conjux amantissima adjacet Domina BLANCHA SOMERSET,
filia Edwardi Somerset, Wigorniae Comitis, privata sigilli
custodis, magistri equitum, &c., quae marito par generis
splendore, exercitio virtutum non impar, in aula regia quasi in
cella privata vixit quanto dignitate terrena sublimior, tanto
pietatis fulgere splendidior, quantoque regiae vicinior majestati,
tanto (quod parum est inter mortales) supremo dilectior numini
quo ut proprius frueretur coelo natura mortalitatem exuit
Wintoniae die 28^o Octob: ann: aetat: LXVI. annoque Dom:
M.DC.XLIX.

Henry, their son, spent five years in the Tower, 1673 to 1678, on the information of the infamous Titus Oates, but afterward became Lord Privy Seal to James II.

"Which Henry Lord Arundell, at his own charge, raised a regiment
of horse for the service of King Charles the First in the time of
the usurpation, and stoutly defended his Castle of Wardour
against those rebellious forces, which, under the command of
Edward Hungerford, did then attempt it on behalf of the
Parliament. In the year 1678, he was with William Earl Powis,
William Viscount Stafford, William Lord Petre, and John Lord
Bellasis, committed prisoners to the Tower, and afterwards were
impeached by the House of Commons of high crimes and offences,
without being brought on their trial. He continued prisoner with
the other Lords, till the year 1683, when they were admitted to
bail.

"On King James II. accession to the throne he was sworn of his
Privy Council, and on 11 March, 1686, was constituted Lord Keeper
of the Privy Seal, also, when that Monarch, in 1688, began his
journey towards Salisbury, he committed the administration of
affairs in his absence to the Lord Chancellor, the Lords
Arundell, Bellasis, Preston, and Godolphin. He departed this life
28 December, 1694, having married Cecilie, daughter of Sir Henry
Compton, C.B., of Brambletye, in the county of Sussex."
(Collins.)

Henry, the seventh baron, by his marriage in 1739 with Mary Arundell-Bealing of Lanherne, who died in 1769, re-united the antient branch of the family from which he was descended; he died in 1756, aged 38, is interred below, and his epitaph (by translation) tells us, "_who taking to himself to wife Mary Arundell, the most noble heiress of the family of Lanherne in Cornwall, and having gotten a son of her, a most renowned race which for more than two centuries had been rent asunder, now happily united, flourishes, and may it for ever flourish by the favour of God_."

With the memory of this delightful incident, so gracious and refreshing after the blood-stained relation of the earlier portion of our little narrative, we take our leave of this garner of the departed Arundells, and, seeking once more the rapid convenience of the iron road, are passing swiftly homeward. As the train glides rapidly by the little station of Sutton-Bingham, we remember that not far from this, another and almost unique trace of Arundell of Cornwall is to be found. At about a mile's distance is the village of East-Coker, and in the south transept window of its church are two antient shields of painted glass side by side, on one are the arms of the See of Exeter, on the other quarterly, Arundell and Carminow. These are the arms of John Arundell, Bishop of Exeter, who presided over the diocese two years, died 19 Feb., 1506, and was buried in the church of St. Clement Danes, London, and, as far as we have knowledge, is the only trace of memorial existing to him.

Once more the career of the subject of our little narrative returns to us. All appears to have gone well with him, even among the perils with which he was environed during the reign of Henry VIII. It may be, the instant danger of giving offence to the wishes or inclinations of that capricious tyrant kept him in the path of caution and safety.

But when that king's baby son assumed the reins of sovereignty this terror had disappeared, and men were busily vieing with each other as to whom,--professedly under the little king,--should really rule the destinies of the nation. Sir Thomas now appears to have taken action, and identified himself with one side of the contending factions, not prominently, but sufficiently marked to make him a subject of suspicion--to say nothing beyond--with those he was presumed to differ from, and this on an adverse emergency was a position of considerable peril. So it turned out, for in the end his death appears to have been resolved on, not because his offence was easily proved, or that he deserved such punishment, but as a makeweight, to give the colour of complicity, and so justify the death of Somerset, by the execution of himself, and that of others, thereby inferring the plot was a real one, and of dangerous extent. If so,--and circumstances seem strongly to confirm this view,--his was altogether a hard fate; it is difficult indeed, to imagine a harder one.

"SICUT PULLUS HIRUNDINIS SIC CLAMABO."

Even Thine altars!--there my soul shall flee--
O Lord of Hosts! and as a swallow come
On quivering wing, and chatter mournfully,
And make her nest, and seek eternal home.

Even Thine altars! where in holy state
Lies the Great Sacrifice of endless love,
Incense adoring streams to heaven's gate,
Service unceasing seeks Thy throne above.

Even Thine altars! there unharmed to stay,
And when my captive pinions death shall free,
Migrate to fairer regions far away,
There fold my wings, and rest in peace, with Thee.

=Deo data.=

OF THE IMPERIAL LINE.

A leisurely sail from the beautiful, capacious, and almost land-locked harbour of Plymouth, up its main inlet--so curiously named the Hamoaze--to the picturesque precincts of the lower extremity of the Tamar, on a bright summer day with a gentle breeze, is an excursion in all respects most enjoyable.

The harbour itself is studded over with craft of every variety and size, and sails spread of almost all hues, with here and there a fussy steam-boat ploughing its smoky way between them, while just inside, and tethered as it were to the dim line of the breakwater, are two or three dark grim-looking ironclads, lying as watch-dogs at its entrance.

Sea-ward, is the broad, blue, open main; on the left, the tree-fringed heights of Mount-Edgcumbe; before us, the irregular, creek-broken shore of the "Three-Towns" jutting angularly into the deep, clear water, with houses crowding down to its rocky edge. There, too, in its centre, is one of the most classic spots on English soil--the Hoe--consecrated by endless historic national traditions, and made sacred beyond imagination's most inspired effort, by the tears, prayers, and hopes that have alternately taken their rise, and from its heights watched the silent sails pass on below to the distant ocean, bearing voyagers, the purpose of whose errands,--who may declare?

On its pleasant open plateau, how diverse also have been the objects of those who from time to time have there assembled. Determined spirits with hands upon their sword-hilts, waiting and watching for the first glimpse of the van of the seven miles crescent-flotilla of the dark and hostile Spaniard, sweeping onward toward the shore, bearing the chains of slavery, spiritual and social, within their holds. Bands of bare-headed, bent-browed men, kneeling in reverent, prayerful conclave--the last home-office of their undaunted faith--ere they stepped on board the peaceful convoy, expatriated by conscience from their native soil, in search of a larger liberty, and destined to found in another hemisphere, an even greater England than they were leaving. Invader and emigrant, each shall we say, with purpose animated by soul-constraining religious convictions, but with ultimate aspirations, how different!

Spectators,--myriad numbered, greeting with enthusiastic plaudits, the departure of stately fleets, that at intervals during successive centuries, have passed out, destined to carry the grand conquests of the seamanship and valour of the English race,--triumphs martial and commercial,--to every sea; or anon, sorrowful groups with down-cast hearts, wafting sad and final farewells to those, who have here in continuous exodus set out to seek new homes on distant shores, and from hence cast their last "longing, lingering look," at the receding, vanishing outline of their native land; or again, eager eyes anxious to descry the first rise of the sail of the home-bound ship on the distant horizon, bearing a freight more precious to the love-strained heart, than all the wealth of Ind.

But while these suggestive thoughts are haunting us, we have slowly crept up to the warlike precincts of the lower Hamoaze. We pass the huge, cavernous, pent-house-looking, but now empty 'slips,' hanging over the darkling tide, in which the 'wooden walls' of _old_ England were wont aforetime to be built, ere the steam-urged iron monsters of our present _new_ England were dreamt of. And we ruminate a moment over this change of times and things, and mentally ask the question, What is the gain to human development achieved by much of the scientific--_ergo_ mechanical--appliances of the present hour? the which, while it flatters the lord of creation with the belief he has become the autocrat of the forces and elements, in truth practically reduces that proud being to be the servant and care-taker of the machine he has constructed, for assuredly to a very large extent to this menial occupation he is being rapidly reduced.

Specially with regard to ships and navigation, a generation or two ago, vessels in construction and appearance were not only beautiful objects as such, but required also all the skill, foresight, courage, and dexterity which taxes the resources of manhood to the utmost, and forms the basis of true seamanship, for their guidance and control. Then there was something both for the mind and bodily energy alike to exercise and develope itself on; and undoubtedly much of the secret of our victories, both in commerce and war, that we have achieved in the past, may be traced to our proficiency therein, and as a consequence, the cause of our winning the crown of success among all other competing maritime nations.

Now almost all is changed, science has invaded the citadel of living endeavour, and deposed its activity and ambition; while furnished with the results of her conquests, one man practically has become as good as another, the spur of incentive has vanished from the heel of individual aspiration to excellence, with this result, that if to man the privilege of becoming a greater, nobler being, fostered by the soul's glorious activities, as having something to conquer, or win, be denied or removed from him; he can now console himself with the belief he may afford to become a much idler one,--a prime factor in the creed of the present hour.

And therefore instead of the slips and the wooden-walls, with clatter of adze, axe, and caulking hammer, and the wholesome odour of Stockholm tar,--here we are abreast of the 'steam-yard,' with its metallic clang and reek of coal-smoke, threading our way between a swarm of iron-clads of every form and shape; ugly, dark, and diabolical-looking, as the errand they are constructed for, their sullen turrets, monstrous guns, and blood-curdling names, aptly and unmistakably assuring the beholder that their eventual port of destination lies on the shore of Hades. Steam-pinnaces and swift torpedo-boats are rushing about, and large tenders surging along, among whom we carefully steer, and look across with a glance of relief on the smart, clean, handsome three-deckers moored stern to stern in mid-stream; floating Othellos, that now with occupation gone, serve as nautical colleges for the sailor-boys, where they are instructed in such slender knowledge of seamanship as is at present deemed necessary.

How different was the measure of requirement in the early years of the first George, when the unfortunate Falconer wrote his poem of the _Shipwreck_, whose seamanship was apparently as dear to him as the muse, and so, delighted to cunningly array her with all the terms of the mariner's vocabulary, a feat never attempted by other poet, and of course a hopeless task to any but a true sailor,--

"But now, the transient squall to leeward passed,
Again she rallies to the sudden blast.
The helm to starboard moves; each shivering sail
Is sharply trimmed, to clasp th' augmenting gale--
The mizzen draws; she springs aloof once more,
While the fore-staysail balances before.
The fore-sail braced obliquely to the wind,
They near the prow th' extended tack confined:
Then on the leeward sheet the seamen bend,
And haul the bow-line to the bowsprit end,
To topsails next they haste, the bunt-lines gone,
Through rattling blocks the cluelines swiftly run;
Th' extending sheets on either side are manned;
Abroad they come, the fluttering sails expand;
The yards again ascend each comrade mast,
The leeches taught, the halyards are made fast,
The bowlines hauled, and yards to starboard braced,
The straggling ropes in pendent order placed."

We pass a magnificent white-clad troop-ship, with a beading of red-coats leisurably looking over the forecastle, and glide under the lee of one of those steam-winged brigands of the deep, a steel-built cruiser, whose towering trim spars, and beautiful lines, excite admiration, but chastened with the reflection of the capabilities for destruction she carries in her enormous propelling power and far-reaching guns. Woe, think we, to the peaceful merchantman who may venture to disregard, or seek to flee from the summons of her eagle eye!

And now we are sailing easily amid an assemblage of objects, whose presence makes the heart sink, and the cheek burn as we contemplate the rotting millions they represent,--the fleet of huge discarded hulks, whose now comparatively untrustworthy fighting and defensive capabilities, represent the modern advance in the art of destruction in maritime warfare. Here and there a solitary figure peers over the rusty bulwarks, but with regard to the majority, not a living creature paces their deserted decks. Gay, golden, and bright-coloured figure heads,--nymph, triton, or naval hero,--still decorate their prows, but these to our fancy's eye, resolve themselves into gilded skeletons with eyes of flame, and grasping the lightning darts of destruction in their grisly clutches,--the ghastly phantasmagoria of Death! And then comes the mournful reflection, that the original cost of each of these now comparatively valueless hulls,--being for all other purposes mere useless accretions of old iron and wood,--and designed for the destruction of the human race, would have more than sufficed to have built and endowed a hospital or college, whose beneficent errand should have been for all time (and while our present institutions are also starving for want of funds), and that the aggregation of hulks floating lazily around us, and of their predecessors, would represent an amount of wealth sufficiently large to have dotted the empire all over with such excellent institutions.

Last thought of all, as we look back and watch the bright red cross slowly unfold itself on the summer breeze over the taffrail of one of the largest of them,--the hallowed symbol of peace and good will hoisted over these engines of bloodshed,--we muse at the strange antithesis suggested by its display, as if designed in bitterest satire, to justify, or as it were, consecrate their direful mission. A curious example of what we presume would be termed national religious ethics, as at present professed in this Christian land of ours. But then we recollect that favourite patriot, the courageous (at home) and braggart, fire-eating Jingo, with his eight hundred millions of debt on his back, has to be duly considered in the motley compact. "Peace and good will" at present looks like a hopeless dream, to be further off than ever, and its development in the boasted civilization of the last quarter of the nineteenth century exhibits, instead, the strange spectacle of more fighting men on land, and ships of war at sea, furnished with the most tremendous appliances for the destruction of human life than could be found, perhaps, at any previous era of the world's history. Europe appears a vast armed camp, filled with millions of soldiers, apparently only waiting in feverish suspense some chance incident, to march on each other, and deluge the continent with carnage.