The quarrel with the Papacy exasperated by the persecution of English residents in Spain.
A less severe government than that of Henry VIII. would have refused to tolerate conduct of this kind. Those who decline to recognise the authority of an act of parliament over the property of corporate bodies, cannot pretend that a right of ownership was vested in persons whose tenure, at its best and surest, was limited by their lives.[500] For members of religious houses to make away their plate was justly construed to be felony; and the law, which was necessarily general, could not recognise exceptions on the ground of piety of motive, when such an exception would but have furnished a screen behind which indiscriminate pillage might have been carried on with impunity. The visitors had been warned to be careful, and practice had made them skilful in means of detection. On the first day of the investigation at Glastonbury, “a fair chalice of gold” came to light, “with divers other parcels of plate;” all of which the abbot had concealed, committing perjury in doing so, on their previous visitation.[501] The next day brought out more; and the day after, more again. Gold and silver in vessels, ornaments, and money were discovered “mured up in walls, vaults, and other secret places,” some hidden by the abbot, some by the convent. Two monks who were treasurers, with the lay clerks of the vestry, were found to have been “arrant thieves.” At length as much treasure of various sorts was recovered as would have begun a new abbey.[502] The visitors did not trouble themselves to speculate on the abbot’s intentions. There is nothing to show that in collusion with the brethren he was not repeating the behaviour of the Abbot of Barlings; or, like so many of the northern abbots, he might have been hoarding a fund to subsidize insurrection, preserving the treasures of the temple to maintain the temple’s defenders; or he might have acted in a simple spirit of piety. His motives were of no moment. The fact of the concealment was patent. The letter communicating these discoveries to the government was written on the 28th of September. Another followed on the 2d of October, stating that, since the despatch of the last, the visitors “had come to the knowledge of divers sundry treasons committed and done by the Abbot of Glastonbury, the certainty whereof would appear in a Book of Depositions,” which they forwarded with the accusers’ names attached to their statements, “very haut and rank treason.”[503] I have not discovered this “Book of Depositions;” but those who desire to elevate the Abbot of Glastonbury to the rank of the martyr, confess, in doing so, their belief that he was more faithful to the Church than to the State, that he was guilty of regarding the old ways as better than the new, and they need not care to question that he may have acted on his convictions, or at least have uttered them in words. After the recent experience of the Pilgrimage of Grace, an ascertained disposition of disloyalty was enough to ensure a conviction; and the Pope by his latest conduct had embittered the quarrel to the utmost. He had failed to excite a holy war against England, but three English merchants had been burnt by the Inquisition in Spain.[504] Five more had been imprisoned and one had been tortured only for declaring that they considered Henry VIII. to be a Christian. Their properties had been confiscated, they had borne faggots and candles in a procession as sanbenitos,[505] and Paul had issued a promise of indulgence to all pious Catholics who would kill an English heretic.[506]
November. The abbot is sent back to Somersetshire.
Nov. 14. He is arraigned at Wells for stealing the plate, and condemned.
He was unpopular in the county and among his tenants.
He is hanged on Glastonbury Torre.
Six weeks elapsed before the abbot’s fate was decided, part or the whole of which time he was in London. At the beginning of November he was sent back into Somersetshire, already condemned at a tribunal where Cromwell sat as prosecutor, jury, and judge. His escape in a more regular court was not contemplated as a possibility; among loose papers of Cromwell still remaining there is a memorandum in his own hand for “the trial and execution” of the Abbot of Glastonbury.[507] But the appearance of unfair dealing was greater than the reality. Lord Russell, whose stainless character was worthy of his name, was one of the commissioners before whom the trial was conducted; and Russell has left on record his approval of, and acquiescence in the conduct of the case, in plain and unmistakeable language. Whiting was arraigned at Wells on Thursday, the 14th of November, with his treasurers, “before as worshipful a jury as was charged there for many years.”[508] The crime of which he was formally accused was robbing the abbey church; and there was no doubt that he was guilty of having committed that crime, to whatever the guilt may have amounted. But if the government had prosecuted in every instance of abbey-church robbery, a monk would have hung in chains at all the cross-roads in England. The Abbot of Glastonbury was tried and convicted of felony; his real offence was treason, as the word was interpreted by Cromwell. He was unpopular in the county, and among his dependents. “There were many bills,” Lord Russell said, “put up against the abbot, by his tenants and others, for wrongs and injuries that he had done them.”[509] He was sentenced to death, and the day following was fixed for the execution. He was taken with the two monks from Wells to Glastonbury; he was drawn through the town in the usual manner, and thence to the top of the conical hill which rises out of the level plain of Somersetshire, called Glastonbury Torre. To the last he was tormented with questions, “but he would accuse no man but himself;” he only requested the visitors’ servants who were present on the Torre to entreat their masters and Lord Russell “to desire the King’s Highness of his merciful goodness and in the way of charity to forgive him his great offences by him committed and done against his Grace.”[510] The modern student, to whom the passions and the difficulties of the time are as a long forgotten dream, who sees only the bleak hill-top on the dreary November day, the gallows, and an infirm old man guilty of nothing which he can understand to be a crime, shudders at the needless cruelty. Cromwell, for his share in this policy of death, was soon to receive as he had given; a few more months, and he too on Tower Hill would pass to his account.