Note return to page 1 As the roles of Katharine and Wolsey grew in prominence in later eighteenth century productions of HENRY VIII (such as those of Kemble) the last act of the play was increasingly shortened, so that Kean was able to claim that the 1855 production lovingly recorded by this edition was in that section of the play at least restoring Shakespeare to the stage. Elsewhere, however, Kean made his own cuts to make way for novel special effects (such as a moving panorama of London, and a real barge for Buckingham's last exit), the popularity of which helped further establish the pictorial, historical style of nineteenth-century stage Shakespeare.

Note return to page 2 &hand1;For references to Historical authorities indicated by figures, see end of each Act.

Note return to page 3 *Copied from a drawing made by Antony Van Den Wynyrerde, A.D. 1543, and preserved in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.

Note return to page 4 †George Nevill, who married Mary, daughter of Edward Stafford, Duke of Buckingham.

Note return to page 5 ‡Guynes then belonged to the English, and Arde to the French; they are towns in Picardy, and the Valley of Ardren or Andren lay between them. The meeting of Henry the Eighth and Francis the First, which procured this place the name of “The Field of the Cloth of Gold,” took place on the 7th of June, 1520.

Note return to page 6 *The old romantic legend of Bevis of Southampton. This Bevis (or Beavis) a Saxon, was for his prowess created, by William the Conqueror, Earl of Southampton.

Note return to page 7 *One of Wolsey's crosses denoted his being legate; the other was borne before him either as cardinal or archbishop.

Note return to page 8 *The Duke of Buckingham was committed to the Tower on the 16th April, 1521. This nobleman was the fifth in his family who had died a violent death. His father was beheaded by Richard III. His grandfather fell in the battle of St. Albans; his great grandfather was slain in the fight at Northampton; and the father of this last met his fate on the field of Shrewsbury.

Note return to page 9 †This scene is a restoration of the painted chamber at Westminster, from Capon's drawing in Vetusta Monumenta.

Note return to page 10 *Charles Knevitt, a gentleman who had formerly been the Duke's, but had lost his situation from ill conduct.

Note return to page 11 *Charles Somerset, Earl of Worcester, was Lord Chamberlain to Henry the Seventh and Henry the Eighth, and continued in the office until his death, 1526, when he was succeeded by Lord Sands.

Note return to page 12 *The Viscount Chateaubriant, one of the courtiers of Francis the First, has left us the following description of the personal character of the fair Boleyn:—“She possessed a great talent for poetry, and when she sung, like a second Orpheus, she would have made bears and wolves attentive. She likewise danced the English dances, leaping and jumping with infinite grace and agility. Moreover she invented many new figures and steps, which are yet known by her name, or of those of the gallant partners with whom she danced them. She was well skilled in all games fashionable at courts. Besides singing like a syren, accompanying herself on the lute, she harped better than King David, and handled cleverly both lute and rebec (a little violin with three strings). She dressed with marvellous taste, and devised new modes, which were followed by the fairest ladies of the French court, but none wore them with her gracefulness, in which she rivalled Venus.

Note return to page 13 *Chambers, short guns, or cannon, standing upon their breeching without carriages, chiefly used for festive occasions; and having their name most probably from being little more than chambers for powder.

Note return to page 14 *A kiss was anciently the established fee of a lady's partner. So, in a Dialogue between Custom and Veretie, concerning the use and abuse of Dauncing and Minstrelsie, bl. 1, no date, “imprinted at London at the long shop adjoining unto Saint Mildred's Church in the Pultrie, by John Allde:” “But some reply, what foole would daunce,”   “If that when daunce is doon,” “He may not have at ladyes lips”   “That which in daunce he woon?” Steevens.

Note return to page 15 35600001[1] (1) “Ornamental pillars were formerly carried before a Cardinal, and Wolsey was remarkable for keeping up this piece of state. He is so described by Holingshed and other historians. Cavendish, his biographer, speaks of the silver pillars and of his cross-bearers and pillar-bearers. Skelton satirically describes him as going— With worldly pompe incredible, Before him rydeth two prestes stronge, And they bear two crosses right longe, Gapynge in every man's face. After them folowe two layemen secular, And eche of them holdyng a pillar In their handes, steade of a mace. —Skelton's Works. These pillars were supposed to be emblematical of the support given by the cardinals to the church.” —Nares's Glossary. Cavendish describes the Cardinal passing through the City of London with a procession of lords and ladies to the number of twelve hundred horse on the 3rd of July, 1526:— “Then marched he forward out of his own house at Westminster, passing through all London, over London Bridge, having before him of gentlemen a great number, three in a rank, in black velvet livery coats, and the most part of them with great chains of gold about their necks. And all his yeomen, with noblemen's and gentlemen's servants following him in French tawny livery coats; having embroidered upon the backs and breasts of the said coats these letters, T. and C., under the cardinal's hat. His sumpter mules, which were twenty in number and more, with his carts and other carriages of his train, were passed on before, conducted and guarded with a great number of bows and spears. He rode like a cardinal, very sumptuously, on a mule trapped with crimson velvet upon velvet, and his stirrups of copper, and gilt; and his spare mule following him with like apparel. And before him he had his two great crosses of silver, two great pillars of silver, the great seal of England, his cardinal's hat, and a gentleman that carried his valaunce, otherwise called a cloak-bag; which was made altogether of fine scarlet cloth, embroidered over and over with cloth of gold very richly, having in it a cloak of fine scarlet. Thus passed he through London, and all the way of his journey, having his harbingers passing before to provide lodgings for his train.”

Note return to page 16 35600002[2] (2) Cavendish gives the following description of Wolsey proceeding to Westminster Hall:— “And after mass he would return in his privy chamber again, and being advertised of the furniture of his chambers without, with noblemen, gentlemen, and other persons, would issue out into them, appareled all in red, in the habit of a cardinal; which was either of fine scarlet, or else of crimson satin, taffety, damask, or caffa, the best that he could get for money: and upon his head a round pillion, with a noble of black velvet set to the same in the inner side; he had also a tippet of fine sables about his neck; holding in his hand a very fair orange, whereof the meat or substance within was taken out and filled up again with the part of a sponge, wherein was vinegar and other confections against the pestilent airs; the which he most commonly smelt unto, passing among the press, or else when he was pestered with many suitors. There was also borne before him first, the great seal of England, and then his cardinal's hat, by a nobleman or worthy gentleman, right solemnly, bareheaded. And as soon as he was entered into his chamber of presence, where there was attending his coming to await upon him to Westminster Hall, as well noblemen and other worthy gentlemen, as noblemen and gentlemen of his own family; thus passing forth with two great crosses of silver borne before him; with also two great pillars of silver, and his pursuivant at arms with a great mace of silver gilt. Then his gentlemen ushers cried, and said: ‘On, my lords and masters, on before; make way for my Lord's Grace!’” “The pulpit likewise occasionally raised its voice against him. Doctor Barnes, who was burnt in Smithfield in the year 1541, preached at St. Edward's Church in Cambridge, a sermon, for which he was called to appear before the cardinal. This was a part of their dialogue, as it is related in Fox: ‘What Master Doctor (said the cardinal) had you not a sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my pol-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my cross did so sore offend you, that you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people? We were jolily that day laughed to scorne. Verily it was a sermon more fitter to be preached on a stage than in a pulpit; for at the last you said I weare a paire of redde gloves, I should say bloudie gloves (quoth you) that I should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies. And Barnes answered, I spake nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures, according to my conscience, and according to the old doctors.’” —Fox's Acts, p. 1088. W.

Note return to page 17 35600003[3] (3) “And when it pleased the king's majesty, for his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house, as he did divers times in the year, at which time there wanted no preparations, or goodly furniture, with viands of the finest sort that might be provided for money or friendship. Such pleasures were then devised for the king's comfort and consolation, as might be invented, or by man's wit imagined. The banquets were set forth, with masks and mummeries, is so gorgeous a sort, and costly manner, that it was a heaven to behold. There wanted no dames, or damsels, meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to garnish the place for the time, with other goodly disports. Then was there all kind of music and harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of men and children. I have seen the king suddenly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds, made of fine cloth of gold and fine crimson satin paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good proportion of visnomy; their hairs, and beards, either of fine gold wire, or else of silver, and some being of black silk; having sixteen torch bearers, besides their drums, and other persons attending upon them, with visors, and clothed all in satin, of the same colours. And at his coming, and before he came into the hall, ye shall understand, that he came by water to the water gate, without any noise; where, against his coming, were laid charged many chambers, and at his landing they were all shot off, which made such a rumble in the air, that it was like thunder. It made all the noblemen, ladies, and gentlewomen, to muse what it should mean coming so suddenly, they sitting quietly at a solemn banquet; under this sort: First, ye shall perceive that the tables were set in the chamber of presence, banquet-wise covered, my Lord Cardinal sitting under the cloth of estate, and there having his service all alone; and then was there set a lady and a nobleman, or a gentleman and gentlewoman, throughout all the tables in the chamber on the one side, which were made and joined as it were but one table. All which order and device was done and devised by the Lord Sands, Lord Chamberlain to the king;* [Subnote: Shakespere has antedated the festival by several years, previous to the death of the Earl Worcester, who was Chamberlain before Lord Sands.] and also by Sir Henry Guildford, Comptroller to the king. Then immediately after this great shot of guns, the cardinal desired the Lord Chamberlain, and Comptroller, to look what this sudden shot should mean, as though he knew nothing of the matter. They thereupon looking out of the windows into Thames, returned again, and showed him, that it seemed to them there should be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince. With that, quoth the cardinal, ‘I shall desire you, because ye can speak French, to take the pains to go down into the hall to encounter and to receive them, according to their estates, and to conduct them into this chamber, where they shall see us, and all these noble personages sitting merrily at our banquet, desiring them to sit down with us, and to take part of our fare and pastime.’ Then [they] went incontinent down into the hall, where they received them with twenty new torches, and conveyed them up into the chamber, with such a number of drums and fifes as I have seldom seen together, at one time in any masque. At their arrival into the chamber, two and two together, they went directly before the cardinal where he sat, saluting him very reverently; to whom the Lord Chamberlain for them said: ‘Sir, for as much as they be strangers, and can speak no English, they have desired me to declare unto your grace thus: they, having understanding of this your triumphant banquet, where was assembled such a number of excellent fair dames, could do no less, under the supportation of your good grace, but to repair hither to view as well their incomparable beauty, as for to accompany them at mumchance, and then after to dance with them, and so to have of them acquaintance. And, sir, they furthermore require of your grace license to accomplish the cause of their repair.’ To whom the cardinal answered, that he was very well contented they should so do. Then the maskers went first and saluted all the dames as they sat, and then returned to the most worthiest, and there opened a cup full of gold, with crowns, and other pieces of coin, to whom they set divers pieces to cast at. Thus in this manner perusing all the ladies and gentlewomen, and to some they lost, and of some they won. And thus done, they returned unto the cardinal, with great reverence, pouring down all the crowns in the cup, which was about two hundred crowns. ‘At, all,’ qouth the cardinal, and so cast the dice, and won them all at a cast; whereat was great joy made. Then quoth the cardinal to my Lord Chamberlain, ‘I pray you,’ quoth he, ‘show them that it seemeth me that there should be among them some noble man, whom I suppose to be much more worthy of honour to sit and occupy this room and place than I; to whom I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender my place according to my duty.’ Then spake my Lord Chamberlain unto them in French, declaring my Lord Cardinal's mind, and they rounding him again in the ear, my Lord Chamberlain said to my Lord Cardinal, ‘Sir, they confess,’ quoth he, “that among them there is such a noble personage, whom if your grace can appoint him from the other, he is contented to disclose himself, and to accept your place most worthily.’ With that the cardinal, taking a good advisement among them, at the last, quoth he, ‘Me seemeth the gentleman with the black beard should be even he.’ And with that he rose out of his chair, and offered the same to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap in his hand. The person to whom he offered then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely knight of a goodly personage, that much more resembled the king's person in that mask, than any other. The king, hearing and perceiving the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and choice, could not forbear laughing; but plucked down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and cheer, that all noble estates there assembled, seeing the king to be there amongst them, rejoiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons desired his highness to take the place of estate, to whom the king answered, that he would go first and shift his apparel; and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a great fire made and prepared for him; and there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence, the dishes of the banquet were clean take up, and the tables spread again with new and sweet perfumed cloths; every man sitting still until the king and his maskers came in among them again, every man being newly apparalled. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commmanding no man to remove, but sit still, as they did before. Then came in a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were served two hundred dishes or above, of wondrous costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banqueting, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled.” —Cavendish's “Life of Wolsey.”

Note return to page 18 *The office of Constable, which this nobleman inherited from the Bohuns, Earls of Hereford, was forfeited, and was never after revived in England.

Note return to page 19 †The name of the Duke of Buckingham most generally known, was Stafford; but the “History of Remarkable Trials” says, “it seems he affected that surname (of Bohun) before that of Stafford, he being descended from the Bohuns.”

Note return to page 20 *Doctor Stephen Gardiner, afterwards Bishop of Winchester, at this time in great estimation with Wolsey.

Note return to page 21 *Kept him out of the King's presence, employed in foreign embassies.

Note return to page 22 *An allusion to that part of the ceremony of coronation in which the sceptre is placed in the queen's right hand, and the globe or ball in her left.

Note return to page 23 *Henry created Anne Boleyn Marchioness of Pembroke, a royal title which had just been borne by his uncle Jasper Tudor, on the 1st September, 1532. The original of the patent is preserved in the Chapter House, Westminster. It gives Anne Boleyn precedence, and her heirs after her, over all the other marchionesses in England.

Note return to page 24 *Challenge is here a law term. The criminal when he refuses a juryman, says, ‘I challenge him.’ —Johnson.

Note return to page 25 *Cranmer was now absent on an embassy, and after the fall of Wolsey he returned, and was installed Archbishop of Canterbury.

Note return to page 26 35600004[1] (1). The condemnation of Buckingham is thus described by Hall:— “The duke was brought to the bar sore chafing, and sweat marvelously; after he had made his reverence he paused awhile. After his sentence, “the Duke of Buckingham said,—‘My lord of Norfolk, you have said as a traitor should be said unto, but I was never none; but, my lords, I nothing malign for that you have done to me, but the eternal God forgive you my death, as I do: I shall never sue to the king for life, howbeit he is a gracious prince, and more grace may come from him than I desire. I desire you, my lords, and all my fellows to pray for me.’ “Then was the edge of the axe turned towards him, and so led into a barge. Sir Thomas Lovell desired him to sit on the cushions and carpet ordained for him; he said, ‘Nay, for when I went to Westminster, I was Duke of Buckingham; now I am but Edward Bohun, the most caitiff of the world.’ Thus they landed at the Temple, where received him Sir Nicolas Vaux and Sir William Sandes, and led him through the city, who desired ever the people to pray for him, of whom some wept and lamented, and said, This is the end of evil life. God forgive him! he was a proud prince; it is a pity that he behaved him so against his king and liege lord, whom God preserve. Thus about four of the clock he was brought as a cast man to the Tower.”

Note return to page 27 35600005[2] (2.) The Campeggio, of history, whose object was to delay, as far as possible, the proceedings of the divorce between Henry and Katherine. “Meanwhile preparations were making to receive him in London. Wolsey, feeling contempt for the poverty of the Roman cardinals, and very uneasy about the equipage with which his colleague was likely to make his entrance into the capital, sent a number of shewy chests, rich carpets, litters hung with drapery, and harnessed mules. On the other hand, Campeggio, whose secret mission was to keep in the back-ground, and above all to do nothing, feared these banners, and trappings, and all the parade of a triumphal entry. Alleging therefore an attack of the gout, in order to escape from the pomps his colleague had prepared for him, he quietly took a boat, and thus reached the palace of the Bishop of Bath, where he was to lodge. “While the nuncio was thus proceeding unnoticed up the Thames, the equipages sent by Wolsey entered London through the midst of a gaping crowd, who looked on them with curiosity, as if they had come from the banks of the Tiber. Some of the mules, however, took fright and ran away, the coffers fell off and burst open, when there was a general rush to see their contents; but to the surprise of all they were empty. This was an excellent jest for the citizens of London. ‘Fine outside, empty inside; a just emblem of the popedom, its embassy, and foolish pomps,’ they said; ‘a sham legate, a procession of masks, and the whole a farce!’ “Campeggio was come at last, and now what he dreaded most was an audience. ‘I cannot move,’ he said, ‘or endure the motion of a litter.’ Never had an attack of the gout been more seasonable. Wolsey, who paid him frequent visits, soon found him to be his equal in cunning. To no purpose did he treat him with every mark of respect, shaking his hand and making much of him; it was labour lost, the Roman nuncio would say nothing, and Wolsey began to despair. The king, on the contrary, was full of hope, and fancied he already had the act of divorce in his portfolio, because he had the nuncio in his kingdom.” —Daubigné's Reformation. On the 22nd of October, a month after his arrival, the nuncio, borne in a sedan-chair of red velvet, was carried to court.

Note return to page 28 35600006[3] (3.) “Ye shall understand, as I said before, that there was a court erected in the Black Friars in London, where these two Cardinals sat for judges. Now will I set you out the manner and order of the court there. First, there was a court placed with tables, benches, and bars, like a consistory, a place judicial (for the judges to sit on). There was also a cloth of estate under the which sat the king; and the queen sat some distance beneath the king: under the judges' feet sat the officers of the court. The chief scribe there was Dr. Stephens (who was after Bishop of Winchester); the apparitor was one Cooke, most commonly called Cooke of Winchester. Then sat there within the said court, directly before the king and the judges, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Doctor Warham, and all the other bishops. Then at both the ends, with a bar made for them, the counsellors on both sides. The doctors for the king were Doctor Sampson, that was after Bishop of Chichester, and Doctor Bell, who after was Bishop of Worcester, with divers other. The proctors on the king's part were Doctor Peter, who was after made the king's chief secretary, and Doctor Tregonell, and divers other. “Now on the other side stood the counsel for the queen, Doctor Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, and Doctor Standish, some time a Grey Friar, and then Bishop of St. Asaph in Wales; two notable clerks in divinity, and in especial the Bishop of Rochester, a very godly man and a devout person, who after suffered death at Tower Hill; the which was greatly lamented through all the foreign Universities of Christendom. There was also another ancient doctor, called, as I remember Dr. Ridley, a very small person in stature, but surely a great and an excellent clerk in divinity. “The court being thus furnished and ordered, the judges commanded the crier to proclaim silence; then was the judges' commission, which they had of the pope, published and read openly before all the audience there assembled. That done, the crier called the king, by the name of ‘King Henry of England, come into the court, &c.’ With that the king answered and said, ‘Here, my lords!’ Then he called also the queen, by the name of ‘Katharine, Queen of England, come into the court, &c.;’ who made no answer to the same, but rose up incontinent out of her chair, where as she sat, and because she could not come directly to the king for the distance which severed them, she took pain to go about unto the king, kneeling down at his feet in the sight of all the court and assembly, to whom she said in effect, in broken English, as followeth: “‘Sir,’ quoth she, ‘I beseech you for all the loves that hath been between us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and right; take of me some pity and compassion, for I am a poor woman and a stranger born out of your dominion; I have here no assured friend, and much less indifferent counsel; I flee to you as to the head of justice within this realm. Alas! Sir, wherein have I offended you? or what occasion of displeasure? Have I designed against your will and pleasure; intending (as I perceive) to put me from you? I take God and all the world to witness, that I have been to you a true, humble, and obedient wife, ever conformable to your will and pleasure, that never said or did any thing to the contrary thereof, being always well pleased and contented with all things wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whether it were in little or much, I never grudged in word or countenance, or showed a visage or spark of discontentation. I loved all those whom ye loved only for your sake, whether I had cause or no; and whether they were my friends or my enemies. This twenty years I have been your true wife or more, and by me ye have had divers children, although it hath pleased God to call them out of this world, which hath been no default in me. “‘And when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience. If there be any just cause by the law that ye can allege against me, either of dishonesty or any other impediment to banish and put me from you, I am well content to depart to my great shame and dishonour; and if there be none, then here I most lowly beseech you let me remain in my former estate, and receive justice at your hands. The king your father was in the time of his reign of such estimation thorough the world for his excellent wisdom, that he was accounted and called of all men the second Solomon; and my father Ferdinand, King of Spain, who was esteemed to be one of the wittiest princes that reigned in Spain, many years before, were both wise and excellent kings in wisdom and princely behaviour. It is not therefore to be doubted, but that they elected and gathered as wise councillors about them as to their high discretions was thought meet. Also, as me seemeth, there was in those days as wise, as well learned men, and men of as good judgment as be at this present in both realms, who thought then the marriage between you and me good and lawful. Therefore it is a wonder to hear what new inventions are now invented against me, that never intended but honesty. And cause me to stand to the order and judgment of this new court, wherein ye may do me much wrong, if ye intend any cruelty; for ye may condemn me for lack of sufficient answer, having no indifferent council, but such as be assigned me, with whose wisdom and learning I am not acquainted. Ye must consider that they cannot be indifferent councillors for my part which be your subjects, and taken out of your own council before, wherein they be made privy, and dare not, for your displeasure, disobey your will and intent, being once made privy thereto. Therefore I most humbly require you, in the way of charity, and for the love of God, who is the just judge, to spare me the extremity of this new court, until I may be advertised what way and order my friends in Spain will advise me to take. And if ye will not extend to me so much indifferent favour, your pleasure then be fulfilled, and to God I commit my cause!’ “And with that she rose up, making a low courtesy to the king, and so departed from thence. Many supposed that she would have resorted again to her former place; but she took her way straight out of the house, leaning (as she was wont always to do) upon the arm of her general receiver, called Master Griffith. And the king being advertised of her departure, commanded the crier to call her again, who called her by the name of ‘Katharine Queen of England, come into the court, &c.’ With that quoth Master Griffith, ‘Madam ye be called again.’ ‘On, on,’ quoth she, ‘it maketh no matter, for it is no indifferent court for me, therefore I will not tarry. Go on your ways.’ And thus she departed out of that court, without any further answer at that time, or at any other, nor would never appear at any other court after. “The king perceiving that she was departed in such sort, calling to his grace's memory all her lament words that she had pronounced before him and all the audience, said thus in effect: ‘For as much,’ quoth he, ‘as the queen is gone, I will, in her absence, declare unto you all my lords here presently assembled, she hath been to me as true, as obedient, and as conformable a wife as I could in my fantasy wish or desire. She hath all the virtuous qualities that ought to be in a woman of her dignity, or in any other of baser estate. Surely she is also a noble woman born, if nothing were in her, but only her conditions will well declare the same.’ With that quoth my Lord Cardinal, ‘Sir, I most humbly beseech your highness to declare me before all this audience, whether I have been the chief inventor or first mover of this matter unto your majesty; for I am greatly suspected of all men herein.’ ‘My Lord Cardinal,’ quoth the king, ‘I can well excuse you herein. Marry (quoth he), ye have been rather against me in attempting or setting forth thereof. And to put you all out of doubt, I will declare unto you the special cause that moved me hereunto; it was a certain scrupulosity that pricked my conscience upon divers words that were spoken at a certain time by the Bishop of Bayonne, the French King's Ambassador, who had been here long upon the debating for the conclusion of a marriage to be concluded between the princess our daughter Mary, and the Duke of Orleans, the French king's second son, &c., &c., &c.’” —“Cavendish's Life of Wolsey.”

Note return to page 29 *This scene has heretofore been omitted in representation, and is now introduced for the first time.

Note return to page 30 *Envy, in Shakespere's age, signified malice. —Malone.

Note return to page 31 *“To hedge, is to creep along by the hedge; not to take the direct and open path.” —Johnson.

Note return to page 32 *Asher was the ancient name of Esher. Fox, Bishop of Winchester, died September 14th, 1528, and Wolsey held this see in commendam. Esher, therefore, was his own house.

Note return to page 33 *“It is well known that the hat of a Cardinal is scarlet, and that one of the methods of daring larks was by small mirrors fastened on scarlet cloth, which engaged the attention of these birds while the fowler drew his net over them.” —Steevens.

Note return to page 34 †The sacring bell was a bell rung for holy ceremonies.

Note return to page 35 *Wolsey urged in his defence that this was the correct Latin idiom, when the expression was cited against him as a proof of arrogance.

Note return to page 36 *The Lord Chancellor is the general guardian of orphans.

Note return to page 37 *This inventory Wolsey actually caused to be taken upon his disgrace, and the particulars may be seen at large in Storoc's Chronicle.

Note return to page 38 †Cardinal Wolsey died at Leicester, on his way to the Tower, in 1530, in the 59th year of his age.

Note return to page 39 35600007[1] (1). “And then my lord rose up, and made him ready’ taking his barge, and went straight to Bath Place to the other cardinal; and so went together unto Bridewell, directly to the queen's lodging: and they, being in her chamber of presence, showed to the gentlemen usher that they came to speak with the queen's grace. The gentleman usher advertised the queen thereof incontinent. With that she came out of her privy chamber with a skein of white thread about her neck, into the chamber of presence, where the cardinals were giving of attendance upon her coming. At whose coming quoth she, ‘Alack, my lords, I am very sorry to cause you to attend upon me; what is your pleasure with me?’ ‘If it please you,’ quoth my Lord Cardinal, ‘to go into your privy chamber, we will show you the cause of our coming.’ ‘My lord,’ quoth she, ‘if you have any thing to say, speak it openly before all these folks; for I fear nothing that ye can say or allege against me, but that I would all the world should both hear and see it: therefore I pray you speak your minds openly.’ Then began my lord to speak to her in Latin. ‘Nay, good my lord,’ quoth she, ‘speak to me in English I beseech you; although I understand Latin.’ ‘Forsooth then,’ quoth my lord, “Madam, if it please your grace, we come both to know your mind, how ye be disposed to do in this matter between the king and you, and also to declare secretly our opinions and our counsel unto you, which we have intended of very zeal and obedience that we bear to your grace.’ ‘My lords, I thank you then,’ quoth she, ‘of your good wills; but to make answer to your request I cannot so suddenly, for I was set among my maidens at work, thinking full little of any such matter, wherein there needeth a longer deliberation, and a better head than mine, to make answer to so noble wise men as ye be; I had need of good counsel in this case, which toucheth me so near; and for any counsel or friendship that I can find in England, [they] are nothing to my purpose or profit. Think you, I pray you, my lords, will any Englishmen counsel or be friendly unto me against the king's pleasure, they being his subjects? Nay forsooth, my lords! and for my counsel in whom I do intend to put my trust be not here; they be in Spain, in my native country. Alas, my lords! I am a poor woman lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently to answer such approved wise men as ye be both, in so weighty a matter. I pray you to extend your good and indifferent minds in your authority unto me, for I am a simple woman, destitute and barren of friendship and counsel here in a foreign region: and as for your counsel I will not refuse but be glad to hear.’ “And with that she took my lord by the hand and led him into her privy chamber, with the other cardinal; where they were in long communication: we, in the other chamber, might sometime hear the queen speak very loud, but what it was we could not understand. The communication ended, the cardinals departed and went directly to the king, making to him relation of their talk with the queen; and after resorted home to their houses to supper.” —Cavendish's “Life of Cardinal Wolsey.”

Note return to page 40 35600008[2] (2) “In the year 1521, the cardinal, by virtue of his legative authority, issued a mandate to all the bishops in the realm, to take the necessary means for calling in and destroying all books, printed or written, containing any of the errors of Martin Luther; and further directing processes to be instituted against all the possessors and favourers of such books, heresies, &c.” —Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials.

Note return to page 41 35600009[3] (3) “That the Cardinal gave the King an inventory of his own private wealth, by mistake, and thereby ruined himself is a known variation from the truth of history. Shakespere, however, has not injudiciously represented the fall of that great man as owing to an incident he had once improved to the destruction of another. (See Holingshed, pp. 796 and 797.) Thomas Ruthall, Bishop of Durham, was, after the death of King Henry the Seventh, one of the privy council of Henry the Eighth, to whom the King gave in charge to write a book of the whole estate of the kingdom, &c. Afterwards, the King commanded Cardinal Wolsey to go to this bishop, and to bring the book away with him. The bishop having written two books (the one to answer the King's command, and the other intreating of his own private affairs), did bind them both after one sort in vellum, &c. Now when the Cardinal came to demand the book due to the King, the bishop unadvisedly commanded his servant to bring him the book bound in white vellum, lying in his study, in such a place. The servant accordingly brought forth one of the books so bound, being the book intreating of the state of the bishop, &c. The Cardinal having the book, went from the bishop, and after (in his study, by himself), understanding the contents thereof, he greatly rejoiced, having now occasion (which he long sought for) offered unto him to bring the bishop into the King's disgrace. “Wherefore he went forthwith to the King, delivered the book into his hands, and briefly informed him of the contents thereof; putting further into the King's head, that if at any time he were destitute of a mass of money, he should not need to seek further therefore than to the coffers of the bishop. Of all which when the bishop had intelligence, he was stricken with such grief of the same, that he shortly, through extreme sorrow, ended his life at London, year of Christ, 1533. After which, the Cardinal, who had long before gaped after his bishoprick, in singular hope to attain thereunto, had now his wish in effect.” —Steevens.

Note return to page 42 35600010[4] (4) “After Cardinal Campeggio was thus departed and gone, Michaelmas Term drew near, against the which my lord returned unto his house at Westminster; and when the Term began, he went to the hall in such like sort and gesture as he was wont most commonly to do, and sat in the Chancery, being Chancellor. After which day he never sat there more. The next day he tarried at home, expecting the coming of the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, [who] came not that day; but the next day they came thither unto him; to whom they declared how the king's pleasure was that he should surrender and deliver up the great seal into their hands, and to depart simply unto Asher, a house situate nigh Hampton Court, belonging to the Bishoprick of Winchester. My lord understanding their message, demanded of them what commission they had to give him any such commandment? who answered him again, that they were sufficient commissioners in that behalf, having the king's commandment by his mouth so to do. ‘Yet,’ quoth he, ‘that is not sufficient for me, without farther commandment of the king's pleasure; for the great seal of England was delivered me by the king's own person, to enjoy during my life, with the ministration of the office and high room of chancellorship of England: for my surety whereof, I have the king's letters patent to show.’ Which matter was greatly debated between the dukes and him with many stout words between them; whose words and checks he took in patience for the time: in so much that the dukes were fain to depart again without their purpose at that present; and returned again unto Windsor to the king: and what report they made I cannot tell; howbeit, the next day they came again from the king, bringing with them the king's letters. After the receipt and reading of the same by my lord, which was done with much reverence, he delivered unto them the great seal, contented to obey the king's high commandment; and seeing that the king's pleasure was to take his house, with the contents, was well pleased simply to depart to Asher, taking nothing but only some provision for his house.” —Cavenvendish's “Life of Cardinal Wolsey.”

Note return to page 43 35600011[5] (5) The Duke of Norfolk who is introduced in the first scene of the first act, is not the same person who here, in 1529, demands the great seal from Wolsey; for Thomas Howard, created Duke of Norfolk 1514, died in 1525. Shakspere has made a dramatic condensation, and has here rendered two persons into one. The Duke of Norfolk, who succeeded him, is the same person as the Earl of Surrey of the present scene, for Buckingham was his “father-in-law.”

Note return to page 44 35600012[6] (6.) The testimony of Wyatt, however, who was not only a contemporary but a witness too deeply interested not to be correct on such a point, confirms the assertions of Stowe and Godwin, that this event, so fatal to the bride who was to purchase the brief possession of a crown with the loss of her head, took place on St. Paul's Day, January 25th, 1533. “On the morning of that day at a very early hour,” says a contemporary, “Dr. Rowland Lee, one of the royal chaplains, received the unwonted order to celebrate mass, in an unfrequented attic in the west turret of Whitehall. There he found the king attended by Norris and Heneage, two of the grooms of the chamber, and the Marchioness of Pembroke accompanied by her train-bearer, Ann Savage, afterwards Lady Berkely. On being required to perform the nuptial rite between his sovereign and the marchioness in the presence of the three witnesses assembled, the chaplain hesitated, but Henry is said to have assured him that the Pope had pronounced in favour of the divorce, and that he had the dispensation for a second marriage in his possession.” —Agnes Strickland's “Lives of the Queens of England.”

Note return to page 45 35600013[7] (7) Wolsey, shortly before his death, uttered the following words to Sir William Kingston, Constable of the Tower:— “Master Kingston, if I had served God as diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs. “I know not whether or no it be worth the mentioning here (however we will put it on the adventure), but Cardinal Wolsey, in his lifetime was informed by some fortune-tellers, that he should have his end at Kingston. This, his credulity interpreted of Kingston on Thames; which made him alwayes to avoid the riding through that town, though the nearest way from his house to the court. Afterwards, understanding that he was to be committed by the king's express order to the charge of Sir Antony [William] Kingston (see Henry Lord Howard in his Book against Prophecies, chap. 28, fol. 130), it struck to his heart; too late perceiving himself deceived by that father of lies in his homonymous prediction.” —Fuller's Church History, Book v., p. 178. W. Another instance of Wolsey's superstition is related by Cavendish:— “My lord sitting at dinner upon Allhallows day, in Cawood Castle, having at his board's-end divers of his most worthiest chaplains, sitting at dinner to keep them company, for lack of strangers ye shall understand, that my lord's great cross of silver accustomably stood in the corner, at the table's end, leaning against the tappet or hanging of the chamber. And when the table's end was taken up, and a convenient time for them to arise; in arising from the table, one Doctor Augustine, physician, being a Venetian born, having a boisterous gown of black velvet upon him, as he would have come out at the table's end, his gown overthrew the cross that stood there in the corner, and the cross trailing down along the tappet, it chanced to fall upon Doctor Bonner's head, who stood among others by the tappet, making of curtsy to my lord, and with one of the points of the cross razed his head a little, that the blood ran down. The company standing there were greatly astonied with the chance. My lord sitting in his chair, looking upon them, perceiving the chance, demanded of me being next him, what the matter meant of their sudden abashment. I showed him how the cross fell upon Doctor Bonner's head. ‘Hath it,’ quoth he, ‘drawn any blood?’ ‘Yea forsooth, my lord,’ qouth I, ‘as it seemeth me.’ With that he cast down his head, looking very soberly upon me a good while without any word speaking; at the last, quoth he (shaking of his head), malum omen;’ and therewith said grace, and rose from the table, and went into his bedchamber, there lamenting, making his prayers. Now mark the signification, how my lord expounded this matter unto me afterward at Pomfret Abbey. First, ye shall understand, that the cross, which belonged to the dignity of York, he understood to be himself; and Augustine, that overthrew the cross, he understood to be he that should accuse him, by means whereof he should be overthrown. The falling upon Master Bonner's head, who was master of my lord's faculties and spiritual jurisdictions, who was damnified by the overthrowing of the cross by the physician, and the drawing of blood, betokened death, which shortly after came to pass; about the very same time of the day of this mischance, Master Walshe took his horse to the court gate, as nigh as it could be judged. And thus my lord took it for a very sign or token of that which after ensued, if the circumstance be equally considered and noted, although no man was there present at the time that had any knowledge of Master Walshe's coming down, or what should follow. Wherefore, as it was supposed, that God showed him more secret knowledge of his latter days and end of his trouble than all men supposed; which appeared right well by divers talks that he had with me at divers times of his last end. And now that I have declared unto you the effect of this prodigy and sign, I will return again to the matter.” —Cavendish's “Life of Cardinal Wolsey.”

Note return to page 46 *Anne Boleyn's coronation took place at Westminster, on the 1st of June, 1533.

Note return to page 47 †Sir Thomas More.

Note return to page 48 *The chamber in which Katharine of Arragon expired, at Kimbolton Castle, was hung with tapestry.

Note return to page 49 *Of unbounded pride, or haughtiness.

Note return to page 50 *Eustachio Chapuys, of history, Spanish Ambassador from Charles the Fifth.

Note return to page 51 35600014[1] (1) “The bright morrow was that coronation day, the grand ultimatum on which the heart and wishes of Anne Boleyn had been for so many years stedfastly fixed. It was, at the same time, Whitsunday, and the first of June, of all days the most lovely in England, when the fresh smile of spring still blends with early summer. That morning of high festival saw the queen early at her toilet, for she entered Westminster Hall, with her ladies, a little after eight, and stood under her canopy of state, in her surcoat and mantle of purple velvet, lined with ermine, and the circlet of rubies she wore the preceding day. Then came the monks of Westminster, in rich copes, and the bishops and abbots, in their splendid copes and mitres. The ray-cloth (striped-cloth) was spread all the way from the dais in Westminster Hall, through the Sanctuary and palace, up to the high altar in Westminster Abbey. The usual procession then set forth, among which may be remarked the Marquis of Dorset, bearing the queen's sceptre, the Earl Arundel, with the rod of ivory and the dove, who went side by side. The Earl of Oxford, Lord High-Chamberlain for the day, walked after them bearing the crown, after him came the Duke of Suffolk, as temporary Lord High-Steward of England, bearing a long silver wand, and the Lord William Howard, with the marshall's staff. Then came the Queen, the Bishops of London and Winchester, walking on each side of her, holding up the lappets of her robe, and the freemen of the Cinque Ports called barons, dressed in crimson, with blue points to their sleeves, bore her canopy. The Queen's train was borne by the old Duchess of Norfolk, and she was followed by the female nobility of England, in surcoats of scarlet velvet, with narrow sleeves, the stomachers barred with ermine, the degree of the nobility being told by the number of ermine bars. The knights' wives were in scarlet, but they had no trains, neither had the Queen's gentlewomen. The Queen was set in a rich chair, between the choir and the high altar. And after she had rested herself awhile, she descended to the high altar, and there prostrated herself while Cranmer said certain collects. Then she rose up, and he anointed her on the head and breast, and she was led up again, and after many orisons Cranmer set the crown of St. Edward on her head, and delivered to her the sceptres, and all the choir sang Te Deum. Which done, the archbishop took from her head the crown of St. Edward, being heavy, and set on the crown made for her, and so went to mass, and when the offertory came, she descended again to the altar, and there offered, being still crowned, and then ascended to her chair of state, where she sat till Agnus Dei was sung, and then she went down and kneeled before the altar, and she received of Cranmer the eucharist, and returned to her place again. After mass was over she went to St. Edward's shrine, and there offered, and withdrew into a little place made for the nonce on one side of the choir. The nobility had in the meantime assumed their coronets. And when the Queen had reposed herself, she returned with the procession in the former order, excepting that the proud and triumphant father of the Queen supported her sceptre hand, and on her left hand she was assisted by Lord Talbot, as deputy for his father, the Earl of Shrewsbury. Thus was she led into Westminster Hall, and then to her withdrawing chamber, where she waited till the banquet was prepared.” —Miss Strickland's “Lives of the Queens of England.”

Note return to page 52 35600015[2] (2.) “The next day he rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that night, more sicker, and the next day we rode to Leicester Abbey; and by the way he waxed so sick that he was divers times likely to have fallen from his mule; and being night before we came to the Abbey of Leicester, where at his coming in at the gates, the Abbot of the place, with all his convent, met him with the light of many torches, whom they right reverently received with great reverence. To whom my lord said, ‘Father Abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among you;’ whom they brought on his mule to the stairs' foot of his chamber, and there alighted; and Master Kingston then took him by the arm, and led him up the stairs, who told me afterwards that he never carried so heavy a burden in all his life. And as soon as he was in his chamber, he went incontinent to his bed very sick. This was upon Saturday, at night, and there he continued sicker and sicker. “Upon Monday in the morning, as I stood by his bed side, about eight of the clock, the windows being close shut, having wax lights burning upon the cupboard, I beheld him, as me seemed, drawing fast to his end. He perceiving my shadow upon the wall by his bed side, asked who was there? ‘Sir, I am here,’ quoth I; ‘How do you?’ quoth he to me. ‘Very well, sir,’ quoth I, ‘if I might see your grace well.’ ‘What is it of the clock?’ said he to me. ‘Forsooth, sir,’ said I, ‘it is past eight of the clock in the morning.’ ‘Eight of the clock?’ quoth he, ‘that cannot be,’ rehearsing divers times, ‘eight of the clock, eight of the clock, nay, nay,’ quoth he at the last, ‘it cannot be eight of the clock: for by eight of the clock ye shall lose your master: for my time draweth near that I must depart out of this world.’” His last words were— “‘Master Kingston, farewell. I can no more, but wish all things to have good success. My time draweth on fast. I may not tarry with you. And forget not, I pray you, what I have said and charged you withal: for when I am dead, ye shall peradventure remember my words much better.’ And even with these words he began to draw his speech at length, and his tongue to fail; his eyes being set in his head, whose sight failed him. Then we began to put him in remembrance of Christ's passion; and sent for the abbot of the place to anneal him, who came with all speed, and ministered unto him all the service to the same belonging; and caused also the guard to stand by, both to hear him talk before his death, and also to witness of the same; and incontinent the clock struck eight, at which time he gave up the ghost, and thus departed he this present life. And calling to our remembrance his words, the day before, how he said that at eight of the clock we should lose our master, one of us looking upon an other, supposing that he prophesied of his departure.’” —Cavendish's “Life of Cardinal Wolsey.”

Note return to page 53 35600016[3] (3.) The memory of Cardinal Wolsey, notwithstanding all his faults, will ever be held in reverence for his munificent foundation of Christ College, Oxford, which was begun about 1524. He also founded a school at Ipswich, which was intended as a nursery for the college. This is said for a short time to have rivalled Eton and Winchester, but fell to decay after his ruin. —Crabb's Historical Dictionary.

Note return to page 54 35600017[4] (4.) The letter of Katherine to the King is as follows:— “My most dear lord, king, and husband,— “The hour of my death now approaching, I cannot choose, but out of the love I bear you, advise you of your soul's health, which you ought to prefer before all considerations of the world or flesh whatsoever; for which yet you have cast me into many calamities, and yourself into many troubles. But I forgive you all, and pray God to do so likewise. For the rest I commend unto you Mary, our daughter, beseeching you to be a good father to her, as I have heretofore desired. I must entreat you also to respect my maids, and give them in marriage (which is not much, they being but three), and to all my other servants a years' pay besides their due, lest otherwise they should be unprovided for. Lastly, I make this vow that mine eyes desire you above all things.—Farewell.”

Note return to page 55 35600018[5] (5.) Sir Edmund Bedyngfield writes to Cromwell from Kimbolton, “This 7th day of January (1536), about ten of the clock before noon, the Lady-dowager was aneled with the holy ointment, Master Chamberlain and I called to the same, and before two of the clock at afternoon she departed to God.” —State Papers, published by Government.

Note return to page 56 *Elizabeth was born at Greenwich Palace, 7th September, and christened on the 10th, 1533.

Note return to page 57 35600019[1] (1) “The solemnization of that sacred rite was appointed to take place on Wednesday, 10th of September, the fourth day after the birth of the infant princess. On that day the lord mayor, with the aldermen and council of the city of London, dined together at one o'clock, and then, in obedience to their summons, took boat in their chains and robes, and rowed to Greenwich, where many lords, knights, and gentlemen, were assembled to witness the royal ceremonial. “All the walls between Greenwich palace and the convent of the Grey Friars were hung with arras, and the way strewn with green rushes. The church was likewise hung with arras. Gentlemen with aprons and towels about their necks guarded the font, which stood in the middle of the church, it was of silver, and raised to the height of three steps, and over it was a square canopy of crimson satin fringed with gold—about it, a spaced railed in, covered with red say. Between the choir and chancel, a closet with a fire had been prepared lest the infant should take cold in being disrobed for the font. When all these things were ready the child was brought into the hall of the palace, and the procession set out to the neighbouring church of the Grey Friars; of which building no vestige now remains at Greenwich. The procession began with the lowest rank, the citizens two and two led the way, then gentlemen, esquires, and chaplains, a gradation of precedence, rather decidedly marked, of the three first ranks, whose distinction is by no means definite in the present times; after them the aldermen, and the lord mayor by himself, then the privy-council in robes, then the peers and prelates, followed by the Earl of Essex, who bore the gilt-covered basins; then the Marquis of Exeter, with the taper of virgin wax; next the Marquis of Dorset, bearing the salt, and the Lady Mary of Norfolk (the betrothed of the young Duke of Richmond), carrying the chrisom, which was very rich with pearls and gems; lastly came the royal infant, in the arms of her great-grandmother, the dowager Duchess of Norfolk, under a stately canopy which was supported by the uncle of the babe, George Boleyn Lord Rochford, the Lords William and Thomas Howard, the maternal kindred of the mother, and Lord Hussey, a newly made lord of the Boleyn blood. The babe was wrapped in a mantle of purple velvet, with a train of regal length, furred with ermine, which was duly supported by the Countess of Kent, assisted by the Earl of Wiltshire, the grandfather of the little princess, and the Earl of Derby. On the right of the infant, marched its great uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, with his marshal's staff—on the other, the Duke of Suffolk. The Bishop of London, who performed the ceremony, received the infant at the church door of the Grey Friars, assisted by a grand company of bishops and mitred abbots; and, with all the rites of the Church of Rome, this future great protestant queen received the name of her grandmother, Elizabeth of York. Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, was her godfather, and the Duchess of Norfolk and Marchioness of Dorset her godmothers. After Elizabeth had received her name, garter king-at-arms cried aloud:—‘God, of his infinite goodness, send a prosperous life and long, to the high and mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth!’ “Then a flourish of trumpets sounded, and the royal child was borne to the altar, the Gospel was read over her, and she was confirmed by Cranmer, who, with the other sponsors, presented the christening gifts. He gave her a standing cup of gold, the Duchess of Norfolk a cup of gold fretted with pearls, being completely unconscious of the chemical antipathy between the acidity of wine and the misplaced pearls. The Marchioness of Dorset gave three gilt bowls, pounced, with a cover, and the Marchioness of Exeter three standing bowls, graven and gilt, with covers. Then were brought in wafers, comfits, and hypocras, in such abundance that the company had as much as could be desired. “The homeward procession was lighted on its way to the palace with five hundred staff torches, which were carried by the yeomen of the guard and the king's servants, but the infant herself was surrounded by gentlemen bearing flambeaux. The procession returned in the same order that it went out, save that four noble gentlemen carried the sponsor's gifts before the child, with trumpets flourishing all the way preceding them, till they came to the door of the queen's chamber. The king commanded the Duke of Norfolk to thank the lord mayor and citizens heartily in his name for their attendance, and, after they had powerfully refreshed themselves in the royal cellar, they betook themselves to their barges.” —Agnes Strickland's “Lives of the Queens of England.”

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