It is interesting to find that as late as (Jan.) 1538, two years after the passing of the first bill, the heads of houses were asked to believe that there was no wish for a general suppression[1123], and that a grant of continuance was made (May 1538) to the nunneries of Kirkless and Nunappleton in Yorkshire[1124]. In Yorkshire there was a strong feeling in favour of nunneries,—‘in which our daughters (are) brought up in virtue,’ as Aske, one of the leaders of the rebellion, put it[1125], and owing doubtless to the opposition made by the rebels, a number of lesser nunneries in the north which came under the act escaped dissolution. Among them besides Kirkless and Nunappleton were Swine and Nun-Kelyng; there is no evidence that they secured a licence at the time. The fact that Kirkless remained and gained a reprieve in 1538 is the more noticeable as the commissioners had in the first instance reported unfavourably on the state of the house[1126].
In February 1538 a courtier wrote to Lord Lisle[1127], ‘the abbeys go down as fast as they may and are surrendered to the king,’ adding the pious wish: ‘I pray God send you one among them to your part.’ For the property of religious houses which were appropriated to the king was now frequently granted to courtiers, or to those who were quick enough to avail themselves of their opportunities in the general scramble.
Several of the agents who had previously conducted visitations were among those who carried on the work of the dissolution. Among them London († 1543) has been characterised as ‘the most terrible of all the monastic spoilers’; his letters remain to show in what spirit he stripped the houses of their property, seized relics and defaced and destroyed everything he could lay hands on[1128]. There is a letter extant which Katherine Bulkeley, abbess of Godstow, wrote to Cromwell complaining of him[1129]. He came down to her house (Nov. 1537), ostensibly to hold a visitation, but really bent on securing a surrender.
‘... Dr London, which as your lordship does well know was against my promotion and has ever since borne me great malice and grudge like my mortal enemy, is suddenly come unto me with a great rout with him and here does threaten me and my sisters saying that he has the king’s commission to suppress my house in spite of my teeth. And when he saw that I was content that he should do all things according to his commission and showed him plain that I would never surrender to his hand being my ancient enemy, now he begins to entreat me and to inveigle my sisters one by one otherwise than I ever heard tell that any of the king’s subjects have been handled, and here tarries and continues to my great cost and charge, and will not take my answer that I will not surrender till I know the king’s gracious commandment and your lordship’s ...’ and more to the same purpose.
London on the following day wrote to Cromwell[1130] asking that the ‘mynchyns’ or nuns of her house, many of whom were aged and without friends, should be generously dealt with (in the matter of a pension). Stories were current[1131] at the time about insults to which the nuns were exposed by the agents. Although it seems probable that there was no excessive delicacy used in their treatment, no direct complaints except those of the abbess of Godstow have been preserved.
The last pages of the history of several of the great abbeys are full of traits of heroism; one cannot read without sympathy of the way in which for example the abbot of Glastonbury identified himself with the system to which he belonged, and perished with it rather than be divided from it. The staunch faith of the friars no less commands respect. The heads of women’s houses naturally made less opposition. However Florence Bannerman, abbess of Amesbury, refused every attempt to bribe or force her into a surrender. After considerable delay she was deposed in December 1539, and was succeeded by Joan Darrell who surrendered the house at the king’s bidding[1132], and accepted the comparatively high pension of £100.
To some of the heads of houses it seemed incredible that the old system was passing away for ever, and they surrendered in the belief that their deprivation was only temporary. Elizabeth Shelley, abbess of St Mary’s, Winchester, who in 1535 had saved her house, accepted the surrender but continued to dwell at Winchester with a number of her nuns, and when she died bequeathed a silver chalice which she had saved to the college in the city on condition that it should be given back to St Mary’s if the convent were restored[1133]. The fact that she succeeded in carrying away a chalice appears exceptional, for the inmates of convents who were expelled seem as a rule to have taken with them nothing except perhaps their books of devotion.
The story of the dissolution repeats itself in every convent. The inventory of the house having been taken, the lead was torn from the roofs, and sold together with the bells; the relics and pictures were packed in sacks and sent up to London to be burnt.
The plate and jewels of the house, the amount of which was considerable in the houses of men and in some of women (for example in Barking) were also forwarded to London to be broken up and melted; in a few instances they were sold. The house’s property in furniture, utensils and vestments was sold there and then. The superiors and convent inmates were then turned away, and the buildings that had so long been held in reverence were either devoted to some profane use or else left to decay.
The inventory taken at the dissolution of the ancient Benedictine nunnery of Wherwell in Hampshire has been preserved among others, and shows how such a house was dealt with[1134]. There is a list of the inmates of the convent and of the pensions granted to them; the abbess in this case received a yearly pension of £40, and her nuns’ pensions ranged from £3. 6s. 8d. to £6. We then get a list of the dwellings of which the settlement was composed. The houses and buildings ‘assigned to remain’ were as follows: ‘the abbess’ lodging with the houses within the quadrant, as the water leads from the east side of the cloister to the gate, the farmery, the mill and millhouse with the slaughter-house adjoining, the brewing and baking houses with the granaries to the same, the barn and stables in the outer court.’ The list of dwellings ‘deemed to be superfluous’ follows. ‘The church, choir, and steeple covered with lead, the cloister covered with tiles and certain gutters of lead, the chapter house, the refectory (ffrayter), the dormitory, the convent kitchen and all the old lodgings between the granary and the hall door covered with tiles.’ Then follow accounts of the lead and bells remaining, of the jewels, plate and silver ‘reserved for the king’s use,’ and of the ornaments, goods and chattels which were sold. We further gather that the debts of the house were paid and that rewards and wages were given to the chaplain, officers and servants before they were turned away.