At the time of Fisher’s execution Thomas Cromwell was drawing up certain notes ‘to be remembered at my next going to the court’. One such ‘remembrance’ was ‘To know his pleasure touching Master More’. There was another note also, ‘What shall be done farther touching Master More’.17 It seems likely, then, that the exact timing or nature of the prisoner’s fate was still to be determined. Then, four days after Fisher’s execution, a special commission was established to ‘hear and determine’ the case of Thomas More. This was the essential precondition for a bill of indictment to be drawn up against him; just such a billa vera, accusing him of treason, was laid before the commission two days later. It is a document of some two thousand words, outlining the various acts or occasions of More’s treachery and accusing him of ‘falsely, traitorously and maliciously’ denying the right of the king to be Supreme Head. More had fallen prey to the new Treason Act and would be tried for his life.
CHAPTER XXXII
CALL FORTH SIR THOMAS MORE
IR Thomas More, you are charged with attempting to deprive the king of his lawful title as supreme head of the Church in England, which is treason. You did refuse to accept the royal supremacy in front of His Grace’s commissioners on 7 May. You were in collusion with a convicted traitor, John Fisher, and it is known that letters passed between you. You again maintained your silence on the matter of the supremacy, when formally questioned in the Tower of London on 3 June. In a conversation with the Solicitor-General, Sir Richard Rich, you denied that the parliament had the authority to declare His Grace the head of the Church in England.
Duke of Norfolk: Sir Thomas More, ye see that ye haue heynously offended the Kinges Maiestie; howbeit we are in very good hope (such is his great bountie, benignitie and clemencie) that if you will forethinke and repent your selfe, if you will reuoke and reforme your wilfull, obstinate opinion that you haue so wrongfully mainteyned and so longe dwelt in, that ye shall taste of his gratious pardon.
Thomas More: My Lordes, I doo most humbly thanke your honours of your great good will towardes me. Howbeit, I make this my boone and petition vnto God as heartily as I may, that he will vouchsafe this my good, honest and vpright minde to norishe, mainteyne and vpholde in me euen to the last howre and extreme moment that euer I shall liue. Concerning nowe the matters you charge and challenge me withall, the articles are so prolixe and longe that I feare, what for my longe imprisonment, what for my longe lingring disease, what for my present weaknes and debilitie, that neyther my witt, nor my memorie, nor yet my voice, will serue to make so full, so effectuall and sufficient aunswere as the weight and importance of these matters doth craue.
A chair may be brought to him.
Thomas More: I plead not gilty, and reserve unto myself advantage to be taken of the body of the matter, after verdicte, to avoid this Indictment. Moreouer if thos only odious tearmes, ‘Maliciously, traiterouslye, and diabolicallye’ were put out of the Indictment, I see therein nothinge iustlye to charge me.
Touching the first article, wherein is purposed that I, to vtter and shewe my malice against the King and his late marriage, haue euer repined and resisted the same, I can say nothing but this: that of malice I neuer spake any thing against it, and that whatsoeuer I haue spoken in that matter, I haue none otherwise spoken but according to my very minde, opinion and conscience. And for this mine errour (if I may call it an errour, or if I haue been deceaued therein) I haue not gone scot free and vntouched, my goodes and chattels being confiscate, and my selfe to perpetuall prison adiudged, where I haue nowe beene shut vp about a fifteene monethes. Touching, I say, this challenge and accusation, I aunswere that, for this my taciturnitie and silence, neyther your lawe nor any lawe in the world is able iustly and rightly to punishe me, vnlesse you may besydes laye to my charge eyther some worde or some facte in deede.
The King’s attorney: Marie, this very silence is a sure token and demonstration of a corrupt and peruerse nature, maligning and repyning against the Statute; yea, there is no true and faithfull subiect that being required of his minde and opinion touching the saide Statute, that is not deepelye and vtterly bounde, without any dissimulation, to confess that Statute to be good, iust and lawfull.
Thomas More: Truely, if the rule and Maxime of the ciuill lawe be good, allowable and sufficient then Qui tacet, consentire videtur [‘he that holdeth his peace seemeth to consent’], this my silence implyeth and importeth rather a ratification and confirmation than any condemnation of your Statute. For I assure you that I haue not hitherto to this howre disclosed and opened my conscience and minde to any person liuing in all the worlde.
As for the second count against me. Would God that these letters were nowe produced and openly read; but forasmuche as the said Bishopp, as ye saye, hath burned them, I will not sticke truly to vtter my selfe, as shortly as I may, the very tenours of the same. In one of them there was nothing in the world conteyned but certaine familier talke and recommendacions, such as was seemly and agreeable to our longe and olde acquaintance. In the other was conteyned my aunswere that I made to the saide Bishopp, demaunding of me what thing I aunswered at my first examination in the towre vpon the saide Statute. Wherevnto I aunswered nothing els but that I had informed and settled my conscience, and that he should informe and settle his. And other aunswere, vpon the charge of my soule, made I none. These are the tenours of my letters, vpon which ye can take no holde or handfast by your lawe to condemne me to death.
The King’s attorney: Yet the verye same aunswere concerning the double-edged sworde the Bisshopp of Rochester made, wherby [it] doth euidently appere that it was a purposed and sett matter betweene you, by mutuall conference and agrement.
Thomas More: I did not precisely, but conditionally, aunswere, that in case the Statute were like to be a double-edged sworde, I could not tell in the world howe a man should demeane and order himselfe but that he should fall into one of the daungers. Neyther doo I knowe what kinde of aunswere the Bishopp made; whose aunswere, if it were agreable and corresspondent to mine, that hath happed by reason of the correspondence and conformitie of our wittes, learning and studie, not that any such thing was purposely concluded vpon and accorded betwixt us. Neyther hath there at any time any worde or deede malitiously scaped or proceeded from me aginst your statute, albeit it may well be that my wordes might be wrongfully and malitiously reported to the Kinges Maiestie.
Sir Richard Rich, will you now stand before us and relate, upon your oath, the substance of your communication with Sir Thomas More in his cell? (He does so.)
Thomas More: In good faithe, master Riche, I am soryer for your periurye then for my own perill. And yow shall vnderstand that neyther I, nor no man else to my knowledge, ever tooke you to be a man of such creditt as in any matter of impourtance I, or any other, would at anye tyme vouchsaf to communicate with you. And I, as you knowe, of no small while haue bine acquainted with yow and your conuersacion, who haue knowen you from your youth hitherto. For we long dwelled both in one parishe together, where, as your self can tell (I am sorry you compell me so to say) you were esteemed very light of your tongue, a greate dicer, and of no comendable fame. And so in your house at the temple, wheare hath bine your cheif bringing vppe were you likewise accompted.
Can it therefore seeme likely vnto your honorable Lordshipps that I wold, in so weyghty a cause, so unadvisedly overshoote my self as to trust master Rich, a man of me alwaies reputed for one of so litle truth, as your lordshipps haue heard, so farre aboue my souereigne Lord the kinge, or any of his noble Councellours, that I wold vnto him vtter the secreates of my consciens towchinge the Kings supremacye, the speciall pointe and only marke at my handes so longe sought for: A thinge which I neuer wold, after the statute thereof made, reveale either to the kings highnes himself, or to any of his honorable councellours, as it is not vnknowne to your honors, at sundry seuerall times sent from his graces owne person vnto the Tower vnto me for none other purpose? Can this in your iudgments, my lordes, seeme likely to be true? And ye
t, if I had done so indeed, my Lords, as master Rich hath sworne, being it was spoken but in familiar secreate talk, nothing affirminge, and only in puttinge of cases without other displeasaunt circumstances, it cannot justly be taken to be spoken maliciouslye. And where there is no malice, there can be no offence.
Sir Richard Rich: May it be caused that Sir Richard Southwell and Master Palmer, who were in the chamber with Sir Thomas More and myself, may be sworn what words passed between us?
It shall be so caused.
Master Palmer: I was so buysye about the trussinge uppe of Sir Thomas Moores books in a sack, that I took no heed of their talk.
Sir Richard Southwell: Because I was apointed only to looke vnto the conveyaunce of his bookes, I gave no ear unto them.
Then will I charge this jury to return a true verdict. I ask you, good sirs, to determine whether Sir Thomas More did converse with Sir Richard Rich in the manner alleged?(The jury retire for fifteen minutes.) You do so find him guilty? Then I will proceed in judgment against the prisoner.
Thomas More: My Lord, when I was toward the Lawe, the maner in suche case was to aske the prisoner before Iudgment, why Iudgement should not be geuen agaynste him.
Sir Thomas Audley: What, then, are you able to say to the contrary?
Thomas More: Seeing that I see ye are determined to condemne me (God knoweth howe) I will nowe in discharge of my conscience speake my minde plainlye and freely touching my Inditment and your Statute withall. Forasmuch as, my Lorde, this Indictment is grounded vppon an acte of parliamente directly repugnant to the lawes of god and his holy churche, the supreeme gouerment of which, or of any parte whereof, may no temporall prince presume by any lawe to take vppon him, as rightfully belonging to the See of Rome, a spirituall preheminence by the mouth of our Sauiour hymself, personally present vppon the earth, only to St Peter and his successors, Byshopps of the same See, by speciall prerogative graunted; It is therefore in lawe amongest Christen men insufficient to charge any Christen man. This Realme, being but one member and smale parte of the Church, might not make a particuler lawe disagreable with the generall lawe of Christes vniuersall Catholike Churche. No more then the city of London, being but one poore member in respect of the whole realme, might make a lawe against an acte of parliament to bind the whole realme. No more might this realme of England refuse obediens to the Sea of Roome then might a child refuse obediens to his owne naturall father.
Duke of Norfolk: We nowe plainely see that ye are malitiously bent.
Thomas More: Nay, nay, very and pure necessitie, for the discharge of my conscience, enforceth me to speake so muche. Wherein I call and appeale to God, whose onely sight pearceth into the very depth of mans heart, to be my witnes. Howbeit, it is not for this supremacie so much that ye seeke my bloud, as for that I would not condiscende to the marriage.
Sir Thomas Audley: My Lord Fitzjames, how do you find the case?
Lord Fitzjames: My lords all, by St Julian, I must needs confes that if thacte of parliament be not vnlawfull, then is not the Indictment in my conscience insufficient.
Sir Thomas Audley: Loe, my Lordes, loe, you heare what my lord chief Iustice saith. You are judged to be guilty, Sir Thomas More. Do you have anythinge els to alleage for your defence? We will grant your favourable audience.
Thomas More: More haue I not to say, my Lordes, but that like as the blessed Apostle St Pawle, as we read in thactes of the Apostles, was present, and consented to the death of St Stephen, and kepte their clothes that stoned him to deathe, and yeat be they nowe both twayne holy Sainctes in heaven, and shall continue there frendes for euer, So I verily truste, and shall therefore hartelye pray, that thoughe your Lordshippes haue nowe here in the earthe bine Judges to my condemnacion, we may yeat hearafter in heaven meerily all meete together, to our euerlasting saluacion and thus I desire Almighty God to preserue and defende the kinges Maiestie, and to send him good counsaile.
Sir Thomas More, you are to be drawn on a hurdle through the City of London to Tyburn, there to be hanged till you be half dead, after that cut down yet alive, your bowels to be taken out of your body and burned before you, your privy parts cut off, your head cut off, your body to be divided in four parts, and your head and body to be set at such places as the King shall assign.1
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE KING IS GOOD UNTO ME
T is one of the most celebrated trials in English history. At first he had stood before his accusers, like Jesus, but weariness and debility mastered him before the end of the proceedings; he told one of his household that the preliminary reading of the indictment was so long that he could not properly follow its third count. He had not been given any advance warning of the case against him, although he must have anticipated its main thrust; in treason trials the accused man had no ‘rights’ in the contemporary sense. There was no presumption of innocence, and the prisoner was given no opportunity to call witnesses in his defence; as the testimony of Rich suggests, the rules of evidence were by no means strict. There is no reason to believe that the jury of twelve men, listening to his testimony in Westminster Hall, were overtly persuaded to find the case against More proven; but if they had declared him innocent, they might themselves have been imprisoned or even attainted. It was not a trial which More could have won.
He made his case skilfully, however, and his penultimate speech ‘in arrest of judgment’ was a masterpiece of legal tact and nicety. His argument was that if a parliamentary statute offends against the law of God it is ‘insufficient’, and cannot be imposed upon any Christian subject. The court disagreed with him, implicitly asserting English law over canon law. As for the charge of treason itself More had argued, again skilfully, that there had been no ‘malicious’ intent in his conversation with Richard Rich. The court and jury disagreed, on the presumption that malice was implied in any denial of the king’s supremacy—or, more particularly, in More’s refusal to swear the oath to that effect. There has been some controversy over the fact that Sir Richard Southwell and Mr Palmer declined to corroborate Rich’s testimony concerning the conversation in More’s cell, but their silence did not seem to affect the jury’s decision.
More’s own silence is more interesting. He maintained that it was not of a ‘corrupt’ or ‘perverse’ nature; he also applied the commanding argument that human law could not judge what Thomas Aquinas called ‘interioribus motibus’ and Christopher St German described as ‘inward things’. This concerned the law of God and was, in human terms, essentially a matter of conscience. More put the case that ‘in thinges touching conscience, euery true and good subiect is more bounde to haue respect to his saide conscience and to his soule than to any other thing in all the world beside’. More was engaged in a particularly difficult and subtle testing of human, as opposed to divine, law, with all the resources of his legal experience being deployed to justify his beleaguered position. His contemporaries believed that he was acting obsessively or irrationally, but he believed himself to be acting legally—in the fullest possible meaning of that term. It has often been surmised that the trial of More represents the defeat of the individual conscience by the forces of the emerging nation-state, but that is profoundly to misunderstand his position. Conscience was not for More simply or necessarily an individual matter; as Lord Chancellor he had been charged with the application of conscience to law, but upon general and traditional principles. At his trial he was affirming the primacy of law itself, as it had always been understood. He asserted the laws of God and of reason, as they had been inherited, and he simply did not believe that the English parliament could repeal the ordinances of a thousand years. It is significant that he was found to be guilty because of that conversation with Rich in which he ‘put the case’. He was in that sense condemned for acting like a lawyer and, at the trial itself, he was also convicted for maintaining traditional law. He embodied law all his life, and he died for it.
He is reported to have remained impassive and composed during these proceedings, his visage showi
ng signs of weariness but not of fear; like the early Christian martyrs who ‘gazed steadfastly’ at their accusers,1 More was imperturbable. He had prepared himself for the ordeal, after all, when in his prison writing he had meditated upon the strength and humility of Christ before his Passion. By his unwavering firmness More embodied the principle of law which he wished to uphold. He spoke out after the verdict had been given against him, because at that moment his fate was determined; he could not be accused of inviting death by his own words. There was nothing tragic about his situation, as many have supposed, and indeed for More all worked towards what was for him the happiest outcome. It might even be described as a form of Socratic comedy in which the outcast is the one who remains most faithful to himself and to his principles. He rose above those who were about to kill him—it is worth noting that he spoke of ‘your law’ and ‘your statute’—by remaining true to his divinely ordained conscience.
After the sentence had been pronounced against him he was led away from the bar of the King’s Bench and escorted from Westminster Hall. The constable of the Tower, Sir William Kingston, was in charge of the guard which accompanied the prisoner from Westminster Stairs towards the Tower; the swift tides made it impossible to cross beneath London Bridge and instead the armed party disembarked from the barge at Old Swan Stairs. Here William Kingston began to cry as he took his leave of him, but More comforted him by saying, ‘Good Master Kingston, trouble not yourself but be of good cheer; for I will pray for you, and my good Lady your wife, that we may meet in heaven together, where we shall be merry for ever and ever.’ Kingston reported this to More’s son-in-law a little while after, and added, ‘In good faith, Master Roper, I was ashamed at myself that, at my departing from your father, I found my heart so feeble, and his so strong, that he was fain to comfort me which should rather have comforted him.’2 More was taken up Old Swan Lane and then turned right into Thames Street, which would lead him back to the Tower; he was walking, according to report, in a coarse woollen gown.
The Life of Thomas More Page 49
