Catherine of Aragon's Deathbed in Shakespeare's "Henry VIII"

Last Saturday I participated in the reading of Shakespeare's Henry VIII. The Folger Shakespeare website summarizes the play, which is a jumble of chronological confusion and lots of plotting, thus:

Two stories dominate Henry VIII: the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, Henry’s powerful advisor, and Henry’s quest to divorce Queen Katherine, who has not borne him a male heir, and marry Anne Bullen (Boleyn).

First, the Duke of Buckingham questions Wolsey’s costly staging of a failed meeting with the French king. Wolsey arrests Buckingham and accuses him of treason; testimony from a bribed witness leads to Buckingham’s execution. Queen Katherine takes a stand against Wolsey. Wolsey gives a party at which Henry meets Anne.

Henry falls in love with Anne and seeks to divorce Katherine, but Katherine refuses to be judged by Wolsey and other church officials. The king secretly marries Anne and then has her crowned queen. Meanwhile, Henry discovers Wolsey’s treachery against him. Wolsey, arrested, falls sick and dies. Katherine also sickens and dies. . . .

As Buckingham and Wolsey fall, they accept their change in fortune as matters of Fate, but as Katherine of Aragon dies, Shakespeare introduces a celestial miracle of heavenly promise, with this long description of "The Vision":

Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in their hands. They first congee unto her, then dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold a spare garland over her head; at which the other four make reverent curtsies; then the two that held the garland deliver the same to the other next two, who observe the same order in their changes, and holding the garland over her head: which done, they deliver the same garland to the last two, who likewise observe the same order: at which, as it were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven: and so in their dancing vanish, carrying the garland with them. The music continues.

Perhaps the music of Humperdinck's Hansel and Gretel's Dream Pantomime, anachronistically fits?

Katherine wakes up:

Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone,
And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?

But neither Griffith nor Patience saw her vision:

No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
They promised me eternal happiness;
And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly.

The Folger website includes this commentary on the role of Queen Katherine: 

Whatever the ethics of Shakespeare’s Henry, Katherine’s integrity glows so splendidly in the play’s action and dialogue that her role has long been coveted by actors. She first takes the stage as the advocate for all the English people crushed by Wolsey’s oppressive taxes, and then she is properly suspicious, as Henry is not, of the motives of the witnesses who send Buckingham to his death. Her fierce opposition to Wolsey is repeatedly justified by the play’s depiction of the cardinal’s vices. When she is summoned to the church court that is deliberating on the propriety of her marriage, her defense of her conduct as Henry’s wife is resounding in its eloquence. She has been admired for centuries by readers and playgoers alike.

Buckingham, Wolsey, and Katherine all reflect on their falls, but only Katherine is given a beatific vision before her death. According to all the books about Henry's wives I've read she had certainly been popular among the English people during her reign, and Shakespeare (and/or John Fletcher, whom scholars agree collaborated on this play) gave her a deathbed scene that reflects that popularity (she dies offstage, of course!).

Image Credit (Public Domain): Dame Ellen Terry as Queen Katherine of Aragon

This is the last of the history plays this group has read. I joined in the middle of Henry IV pair, for part two, the Merry Wives of Windsor (following up on Falstaff), Henry V, the Henry VI cycle, Richard III, and now the last play, Henry VIII. Missed out on King John, Richard II, and Henry IV, part one. The hosts will select one of the comedies to restart our progress through the plays.

Henry VIII's Psalter: Himself as King David

Earlier this year there was an exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City on The Tudors: Art and Majesty in Renaissance England. One of the featured exhibits was the Psalter King Henry VIII commissioned from Jean Mallard in 1540, on loan from the British Library. Both the British Library and the Smithsonian Magazine comment on how Henry VIII designed the Psalter to reflect his piety--including comparisons of himself to King David--and how he annotated certain psalms to identify himself in the psalms as one who had done the Lord's Will and was being rewarded for it (i.e., the birth of his son Edward).

From the British Library's Medieval manuscripts blog:

The Psalter was commissioned by the King himself in 1540 and written and illustrated for him by Jean Mallard, a French scribe and illuminator. It is a lavish production and is still in its original binding, which although quite threadbare, retains traces of deep red velvet. The Psalms are written in an elegant, humanist script and accompanied by exquisitely decorated initials showing birds, insects, fruit, flowers and foliage.

But the Psalter’s true significance lies in its main illustrations, four of which depict Henry, and its annotations written by the King. Taken together, they demonstrate that by the 1540s Henry perceived himself as King David of the Old Testament who, according to tradition, composed the Psalms and whose story was used to justify Henry’s declaration of independence from Rome and to define the Royal Supremacy. . . .

The Smithsonian Magazine article includes some analysis of Henry VIII's annotations in the margins of his Psalter:

Henry appears to have found the self-justification he’d been seeking. Handwritten annotations in the psalter reveal what the king thought of the text and its implications for his own power. On one page, Henry scrawled “nota de peccatore quid ait,” Latin for “note: what he says about the sinner,” next to a passage declaring that sinners’ hereditary lines will be cut off as punishment for their evil deeds. By 1540, after years of waiting and seizing power to enable his multiple marriages, he had at last been rewarded with a son who would continue the Tudor line. Based on his interpretation of the psalm, Henry saw himself as being in God’s good graces—perhaps unthinkable when modern readers consider that he had already executed one of his wives, Anne Boleyn, and would soon execute another, the young Katherine Howard.

In 1540, Henry married again--twice!--to Anne of Cleves and then to Katherine Howard, who followed, as stated above, his second wife to the block.

The article goes on to state:

If these markings tell scholars anything, it’s that Henry wasn’t suffering from a twinging conscience. On the contrary, he viewed unfolding events as vindicating the very choices that later led to his reputation as a callous tyrant. Henry’s notes implicitly justify his self-empowerment; his marriages; and the executions of those who opposed him or fell out of favor, including chief adviser Thomas Cromwell and his old tutor and lord chamberlain, Thomas More. These individuals and many others were, in one way or another, casualties of Henry’s attempt to break from Rome and marry Anne Boleyn.

Following one's conscience is an important theme in Henry VIII's religious and marital matters. He complained of his conscience bothering him after years of marriage to Catherine of Aragon that he had done wrong in marrying his brother's widow. St. Thomas More writes extensively about how he had formed his conscience to answer Henry VIII's questions about the validity of that marriage. His Dialogue on Conscience also explains his position and he explained the traditional Catholic view of conscience to Cromwell and those questioning him on why he would not take the Oath as his monarch required when Cromwell tried to compare More's conscience to the consciences of the heretics which More had investigated as Chancellor (as he described the conversation to his daughter Meg in a letter dated June 3, 1535):

To this Master Secretary said that I had before this when I was Chan­cellor examined heretics and thieves and other malefactors and gave me a great praise above my deserving in that behalf. And he said that I then, as he thought and at the leastwise Bishops did use to examine heretics, whether they believed the Pope to be the head of the Church and used to compel them to make a precise answer thereto. And why should not then the King, since it is a law made here that his Grace is Head of the Church, here compel men to answer precisely to the law here as they did then concerning the Pope.

I answered and said that I protested that I intended not to defend any part or stand in contention; but I said there was a difference between those two cases because at that time, as well here as elsewhere through the corps of Christendom, the Pope's power was recognized for an undoubted thing which seems not like a thing agreed in this realm and the contrary taken for truth in other realms. Whereunto Master Secretary answered that they were as well burned for the denying of that as they be beheaded for deny­ing of this, and therefore as good reason to compel them to make precise answer to the one as to the other.

Whereto I answered that since in this case a man is not by a law of one realm so bound in his conscience, where there is a law of the whole corps of Christendom to the contrary in matter touching belief, as he is by a law of the whole corps though there hap to be made in some place a local law to the contrary, the reasonableness or the unreasonableness in binding a man to precise answer, standeth not in the respect or difference between beheading and burning, but because of the difference in charge of con­science, the difference standeth between beheading and hell.

What the Smithsonian Magazine article highlights is that by 1540 Henry VIII was not suffering from any troubled conscience about what he had done to achieve his desire to sire a legitimate son to succeed him. Henry VIII died in 1547, leaving that son, Edward VI a young boy who would never reach the age of majority, marry, or sire a son to succeed him. 

The commentator in the article, James Clarke, notes that Henry might have thought himself in God's good graces, but was concerned that that youth had passed him by and that he was getting old: he was beginning to face his mortality, if not his morality! 

Image Credit (Public Domain): Henry VIII reading Psalm 1: Beatus Vir (Blessed the man).

Cover Story: Queen Catherine of Aragon at Blackfriars

Two new books feature cover illustrations of Queen Catherine of Aragon before Henry VIII on June 21, 1529 at the ecclesiastical trial held at Blackfriars to determine the validity of their marriage: Criminal-Inquisitorial Trials in English Church Courts: From the Middle Ages to the Reformation by Henry Ansgar Kelly from CUA Press and Betrayed Without a Kiss: Defending Marriage after Years of Failed Leadership in the Church by James Clark from TAN Books.

It's a dramatic scene of course--one that Shakespeare could not resist--as the queen ignored the Papal Legate and Cardinal Wolsey and spoke directly to her husband. Her speech is equally compelling. Here's another image (since I'm not completely sure of the copyright status of the other two illustrations, I won't post them) by Henry Nelson O'Neil, which is in the Public Domain:

The blurb for the CUA Press book by Henry Ansgar Kelly mentions this crucial event in the lives of Henry and Catherine:

After inquisitorial procedure was introduced at the Fourth Lateran Council in Rome in 1215 (the same year as England’s first Magna Carta), virtually all court trials initiated by bishops and their subordinates were inquisitions. That meant that accusers were no longer needed. Rather, the judges themselves leveled charges against persons when they were publicly suspected of specific offenses—like fornication, or witchcraft, or simony. Secret crimes were off limits, including sins of thought (like holding a heretical belief). Defendants were allowed full defenses if they denied charges. These canonical rules were systematically violated by heresy inquisitors in France and elsewhere, especially by forcing self-incrimination. But in England, due process was generally honored and the rights of defendants preserved, though with notable exceptions.

In this book, Henry Ansgar Kelly, a noted forensic historian, describes the reception and application of inquisition in England from the thirteenth century onwards and analyzes all levels of trial proceedings, both minor and major, from accusations of sexual offenses and cheating on tithes to matters of religious dissent. He covers the trials of the Knights Templar early in the fourteenth century and the prosecutions of followers of John Wyclif at the end of the century. He details how the alleged crimes of "criminous clerics" were handled, and demonstrates that the judicial actions concerning Henry VIII’s marriages were inquisitions in which the king himself and his queens were defendants. Trials of Alice Kyteler, Margery Kempe, Eleanor Cobham, and Anne Askew are explained, as are the unjust trials condemning Bishop Reginald Pecock of error and heresy (1457-59) and Richard Hunne for defending English Bibles (1514). He deals with the trials of Lutheran dissidents at the time of Thomas More’s chancellorship, and trials of bishops under Edward VI and Queen Mary, including those against Stephen Gardiner and Thomas Cranmer. Under Queen Elizabeth, Kelly shows, there was a return to the letter of papal canon law (which was not true of the papal curia). In his conclusion he responds to the strictures of Sir John Baker against inquisitorial procedure, and argues that it compares favorably to the common-law trial by jury.

The preview from TAN for Clark's book demonstrates that he does address The King's Great Matter and Saint John Fisher's role in it: Chapter Three: "Searching for John Fisher: The Counter-Revolution to Protestantism from the Council of Trent to Humanae Vitae". [Get it: "Searching for Bobby Fischer"?]

It's still interesting that two publishers chose illustrations of this event on these books on rather different topics.

Saint John Fisher, pray for us!

Fisher and More Religious Freedom Week Thoughts

As Anna Mitchell pointed out during our discussion of Henry VIII's prison visit to Blessed Sebastian Newdigate Monday morning on the Son Rise Morning Show, the USCCB's Religious Freedom Week begins today, June 22, the feast of Saints John Fisher and Thomas More. The portraits above laud them as "England's Most Glorious Martyrs" (note that the clipping dates from before their canonization in 1935, 400 years after their executions).

On the day of their feast, the USCCB asks us to reflect on "Respect for Sacred Spaces":

In a pluralistic society such as ours, respect for sacred spaces is especially vital for the sake of civil peace, which is part of the common good. In recent years, a wave of vandalism and arson has hit Catholic churches and statues. That wave rose following the leaked draft of the Dobbs decision, and it crested after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, allowing states to regulate abortion. June and July of 2022 saw a huge spike in anti-Christian and anti-life attacks on churches. There have been over 250 attacks so far, and that number steadily continues to grow. [well, it certainly can't diminish!]

Before Fisher and More were executed in 1535, sacred spaces in England seemed to be safe: chantry chapels, parish churches, abbey churches, cathedrals, pilgrimage sites, friaries, priories, convents, and monasteries. All their shrines, stained glass, statues, altars, libraries, chalices, patens, pixes, and reliquaries also seemed safe. But with the Dissolution of the Monasteries during Henry VIII's reign, and the greater destruction of the religious fabric of sacred spaces during Edward VI's reign and the Elizabethan iconoclasm after the brief restoration of Catholic worship under Mary I, the pattern of destruction began. We could say that it started, however, in 1536, with the first wave of dissolutions or suppressions, and continued with the larger houses and the campaign against monastic life in general with the Visitations of the larger monasteries and the establishment of the Court of Augmentations to dispose of the sacred spaces of the monasteries with the conversion of some abbey churches into parish churches or cathedrals.

Of course, sixteenth century England did not have any idea of religious freedom: this meme from the beginning of the USCCB's attention to matters of religious freedom in the USA with the "Fortnight for Freedom" in reaction to the HHS/ACA contraception mandates and the Little Sisters of the Poor battles against them reminds us of that!

I'd previously shared this article from The Historical Journal (2022) by Martin Heale, "Thomas More and the Defense of the Religious Orders in Henry VIII's England", and draw your attention to it again with a couple of excerpts. In the course of the article, Heale comments more than once about St. Thomas More's admiration for the Observant Friars at Greenwich, the Carthusians at the London Charterhouse, and the Bridgettines of the House of Syon. On page 936 of the journal, he begins to explore More's defense of monasticism in general:

Alongside his unfettered praise for strictly observant religious orders, More’s polemical writings echoed his ‘Letter to a monk’ by repeatedly emphasizing the inherent value of the monastic way of life. In his ‘Letter to Bugenhagen’, More expressed a very high estimation of the monastic calling: ‘Religious orders have produced a great many men of extraordinary sanctity…[while] the purest segment of the Christian people have always been found in religious orders.’ Their way of life was also certified by the great holiness of their original founders. Monastic living, More added, with its austerities and self-denial, followed Christ’s teaching and example far more faithfully than the pampered and indulgent lives of its evangelical critics.75 The supplication of souls set out a robust defence of the friars’ practice of begging and the endowments held by monastic houses.76 And in the Apology, More denied that the professed religious life was in any way inferior to the calling of secular priests, and asserted that Christian people were bound to show honour towards religious persons on account of their ‘holy profession of their godly state of living’. 77 

You'll need to access the article for the end note links.

Nevertheless, Heale emphasizes that More, the Christian humanist and Catholic apologist, balanced that "very high estimation of the monastic calling" with an acknowledgement of problems among the monastic houses in England, and a rather tepid defense of those houses. While he regretted the dissolution of monasteries in Lutheran Germany (p. 940) More did not mount a defense of the monastic orders or houses. Heale concludes:

It is improbable that Thomas More himself, through his polemical writings, could have impeded the Henrician regime’s plans to embark upon a significant programme of monastic suppression in the mid-1530s. After all, More . . .  had issued stark warnings about the likely negative social and economic consequences of dissolving religious houses: a viewpoint that came to be quite widely shared within a few years of the suppressions. 113 He was, moreover, by no means unique among English humanists in his predilection for strictly observant forms of monastic life, and a concomitant lack of enthusiasm for ‘unreformed’ religious houses.

Tomorrow I'll post my preview for on Monday, June 26 discussion of Father Henry Sebastian Bowden's mementoes of Saint John Fisher on the Son Rise Morning Show!

Saint John Fisher, pray for us!

Saint Thomas More, pray for us!

The Death of Pope Clement VII, 1534

Giulio de' Medici, the former Giulio Cardinal de' Medici and Cardinal Protector of England, died in office as Pope Clement VII on September 25, 1534. He had reigned as the Successor of Saint Peter since November 19, 1523.

He was the son of of Giuliano de’ Medici but was raised by Lorenzo the Magnificent, and was also the nephew of Pope Leo X.

He was, of course, the pope to whom Henry VIII appealed for an annulment--a decree of nullity--of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

It's interesting to read the evaluations of his character in different sources. The British 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica entry, composed by Walter Alison Phillips, summarizes it thus:

Though free from the grosser vices of his predecessors, a man of taste, and economical without being avaricious, Clement VII. was essentially a man of narrow outlook and interests. He failed to understand the great spiritual movement which was convulsing the Church; and instead of bending his mind to the problem of the Reformation, he from the first subordinated the cause of Catholicism and of the world to his interests as an Italian prince and a Medici. Even in these purely secular affairs, moreover, his timidity and indecision prevented him from pursuing a consistent policy; and his ill fortune, or his lack of judgment, placed him, as long as he had the power of choice, ever on the losing side.

The 1913 Catholic Encyclopedia entry, written by Herbert Thurston, is a little more expansive:

In the more ecclesiastical aspects of his pontificate Clement was free from reproach. Two Franciscan reforms, that of the Capuchins and that of the Recollects, found in him a sufficiently sympathetic patron. He was genuinely in earnest over the crusade against the Turks, and he gave much encouragement to foreign missions. As a patron of art, he was much hampered by the sack of Rome and the other disastrous events of his pontificate. But he was keenly interested in such matters, and according to Benvenuto Cellini he had excellent taste. By the commission given to the last-named artist for the famous cope-clasp of which we hear so much in the autobiography, he became the founder of Benvenuto's fortunes. (See Cellini, Benvenuto.) Clement also continued to be the patron of Raphael and of Michelangelo, whose great fresco of the Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel was undertaken by his orders.

In their verdict upon the character of Pope Clement VII almost all historians are agreed. He was an Italian prince, a de' Medici, and a diplomat first, and a spiritual ruler afterwards. His intelligence was of a high order, though his diplomacy was feeble and irresolute. On the other hand, his private life was free from reproach, and he had many excellent impulses, but despite good intentions, all qualities of heroism and greatness must emphatically be denied him.

In his Characters of the Reformation, Hilaire Belloc agrees but adds another insight into these character evaluations:

He was a man of excellent morals, very great erudition, good manners, perfect refinement, if anything rather too much delicacy of mind and of taste, a splendid patron of the arts and a sure judge of excellence in them. He was also a remarkably hard worker, taking the tremendous duties of his office most seriously. Moreover he was as intelligent as any man in Europe. What he lacked was simplicity, also strength of initiative and power of direction. He lacked both those qualities which make for strong command through what may be called the "squareness" of a character, and those which make for successful command through the moral simplicity of a character. In the face of a difficult and involved position his policy became a tangle of secret and involved intrigues, and he had that fatal symptom of weakness which takes the form of always playing for time. There are, obviously, occasions when playing for time is wise, but Clement VII was one of those men who always play for time, and when they find a decision difficult, say to themselves that with sufficient delay anything may turn up in their favour, and who therefore create delay for its own sake. All his method, from the first mention of the desire for divorce expressed by the English Court up to the very last still hesitating and half tentative declarations against the actions of the English government, consisted in dependence on delay. For seven years he played delay as his only card.

As we look back on people from the past--PBS is airing another Ken Burn's documentary, this time on The U.S. and the Holocaust--and we're asked to evaluate what they did and what they should have, could have, would have done better, I think we have to be careful in our judgment and discernment. 

Who knows (God knows!) but that Giulio/Clement's personal virtues, efforts to do the right thing in difficult circumstances (the Sack of Rome! the conflict and contest between Charles V and Francis I! Henry VIII's Great Matter! the beginning of the Reformation!, etc!) may have won him greater rewards than the verdicts of historians would indicate. 

In other words, he may be a saint in Heaven. But we should still pray: Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let Your Perpetual Light shine upon him. May the soul of Pope Clement VII, and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in peace. May Clement VII rest in peace. Amen.

Image Credit (Public Domain): Portrait of Clement VII by Giuliano Bugiardini (c. 1532)

Thomas Wolsey, Archbishop, Named a Cardinal

On the 10th of September in 1515, Pope Leo X, who would later name Henry VIII "Defender of the Faith" (on October 11, 1521), elevated the Archbishop of York, Thomas Wolsey, to the office of Cardinal. Christopher Cardinal Bainbridge, his predecessor as Cardinal and Archbishop of York, had died on July 14, 1514 in Rome.

As this biography by Glenn Richardson from History Extra demonstrates, this was just another step in Wolsey's rise to power and influence in England:

Known for: Being England’s greatest medieval cardinal. Wolsey had a brilliant mastery of foreign policy, as well as the legal and ecclesiastical administration of England under King Henry VIII. He organised three major peace treaties which improved Henry’s strategic position when war did not succeed. Wolsey oversaw Parliament and the Court of Chancery, introduced legal changes and exercised crown authority over nobles and commoners alike. He also oversaw the running of the church in England, countered Lutheran heresy and introduced monastic and educational reforms. Most famously, however, he could not secure from Pope Clement VII the annulment of Henry’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

Responsibilities: He was made the royal almoner (responsible for charitable giving) and royal counsellor in 1509. He became quarter-master general of war against France in 1512–3. Wolsey was made Bishop of Tournai in 1513, Bishop of Lincoln and then Archbishop of York in 1514. Pope Leo X created him Cardinal Saint-Cecilia-beyond-Tiber in 1515. The same year, Henry made him lord chancellor of England. In 1518 he became a papal legate (high representative), confirmed for life in 1524. He was also abbot of St Albans and successively bishop of Bath and Wells (1518–23); Durham (1523–9), and Winchester (1529–30).

When Pope Leo X died, Henry VIII wanted his Lord Chancellor to be elected as Pope and was willing to spend money at the conclave of 1521-1522, although he would have been happy if Giulio de' Medici, Cardinal Protector of England from 1514 to 1518, would have succeeded. Instead, Adriaan Floriszoon Boeyens was elected and reigned as Pope Adrian VI for little more than a year--then Cardinal Medici was elected and reigned as Pope Clement VII. (Henry thought his former Cardinal Protector would continue to serve England's--his--interests as Pontiff!)

But as the article later notes, Wolsey would fall from power because of that failure, highlighted above, to secure the annulment Henry VIII sought from that former Cardinal Protector of England:

Thomas Wolsey fell from power in October 1529, in the aftermath of his inability to obtain an annulment of the king’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon. Virtually from the outset of the campaign in 1527, Henry was convinced of the rightness of his cause. The outcome of the legatine trial of the marriage at Blackfriars in July 1529 was Catherine’s direct appeal to Rome, and a consequent campaign of intimidation against the church in England. Following this outcome, Wolsey lost favour with Henry and last saw the king at Grafton in September 1529.

Glenn Richardson is the author of the latest biography of Thomas Wolsey, and he concludes this History Extra article with a point that his biography, according to the publisher's blurb, contends:

On 17 October, Wolsey was commanded to surrender the Great Seal of England he held as Chancellor, and in April 1530 travelled to York, finally to take up his seat as its archbishop. On 4 November, however, he was arrested for treason for allegedly plotting outside the realm, seeking to have himself restored to power. In reality, there was little substantial evidence for the charge.

History Extra also provides an analysis of Anne Boleyn's role in Wolsey's fall.

Saint Thomas de Cantilupe and the Pope Who Canonized Him

Today is the feast of St. Thomas de Cantilupe or St. Thomas of Hereford. The Once I Was a Clever Boy blog has an excellent post on his life and on the veneration of his shrine in the Cathedral of St. Mary the Virgin and St. Ethelbert the King (dating from the 11th to 13th centuries), and of course the destruction of his shrine during the English Reformation. From the 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica comes this biography:

(c. 1218–1282), English saint and prelate, was a son of William de Cantilupe, the 2nd baron (d. 1251), one of King John’s ministers, and a nephew of Walter de Cantilupe, bishop of Worcester. He was educated at Paris and Orleans, afterwards becoming a teacher of canon law at Oxford and chancellor of the university in 1262. During the Barons’ War Thomas favoured Simon de Montfort and the baronial party. He represented the barons before St Louis of France at Amiens in 1264; he was made chancellor of England in February 1265, but was deprived of this office after Montfort’s death at Evesham, and lived out of England for some time. Returning to England, he was again chancellor of Oxford University, lectured on theology, and held several ecclesiastical appointments. In 1274 he attended the second council of Lyons, and in 1275 he was appointed bishop of Hereford. Cantilupe was now a trusted adviser of Edward I.; he attended the royal councils, and even when differing from the king did not forfeit his favour. The archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Kilwardby, was also his friend; but after Kilwardby’s death in 1279 a series of disputes arose between the bishop and the new archbishop, John Peckham, and this was probably the cause which drove Cantilupe to visit Italy. He died at Orvieto, on the 25th of August 1282, and he was canonized in 1330. Cantilupe appears to have been an exemplary bishop both in spiritual and secular affairs. His charities were large and his private life blameless; he was constantly visiting his diocese, correcting offenders and discharging other episcopal duties; and he compelled neighbouring landholders to restore estates which rightly belonged to the see of Hereford. In 1905 the Cantilupe Society was founded to publish the episcopal registers of Hereford, of which Cantilupe’s is the first in existence.

But what piqued my interest was the name of the pope who canonized him on April 17, 1320: Pope John XXII (Jacques Duèze or d'Euse), an Avignon pope. According to the 1913 Catholic Encyclopedia, he was:

Born at Cahors in 1249; enthroned, 5 September, 1316; died at Avignon, 4 December, 1334. He received his early education from the Dominicans in his native town, and later studied theology and law at Montpellier and Paris. He then taught both canon and civil law at Toulouse and Cahors, came into close relations with Charles II of Naples, and on his recommendation was made Bishop of Frejus in 1300. In 1309 he was appointed chancellor of Charles II, and in 1310 was transferred to the See of Avignon. He delivered legal opinions favourable to the suppression of the Templars, but he also defended Boniface VIII and the Bull "Unam Sanctam". On 23 December, 1312, Clement V made him Cardinal-Bishop of Porto. After the death of Clement V (20 April, 1314) the Holy See was vacant for two years and three and a half months. The cardinals assembled in Carpentras for the election of a pope were divided into two violent factions, and could come to no agreement. The electoral college was composed of eight Italian cardinals, ten from Gascony, three from Provence, and three from other parts of France. After many weeks of unprofitable discussion as to where the conclave should be held, the electoral assembly was entirely dissolved. Ineffectual were the efforts of several princes to induce the cardinals to undertake an election: neither party would yield. After his coronation Philip V of France was finally able to assemble a conclave of twenty-three cardinals in the Dominican monastery at Lyons on 26 June, 1316, and on 7 August, Jacques, Cardinal-Bishop of Porto, was chosen pope. After his coronation at Lyons on 5 September as John XXII, the pope set out for Avignon, where he fixed his residence.

The reason Pope John XXII's reign interests me is because there is a connection to the English Reformation. When Pope John XXII suppressed the Franciscan Spirituals or Fraticelli the Franciscan philosopher William of Ockham protested against what he thought was Papal tyranny. As this website explains:

During the thirteenth century several popes had intervened in these controversies [about poverty and property], generally to support the Franciscans against their critics. Pope John XXII, however, intervened drastically on the other side. In several decretals issued between 1322 and 1324 he decreed that the Franciscans must themselves become the legal owners of the property they used and appeared to condemn as heresy the Franciscan doctrine that Christ and the Apostles had owned no property. Initially, Ockham steered away from active involvement in this conflict. But when ordered to read the relevant documents by his superiors in the Order, brother William came to the reluctant yet firm conclusion that John XXII had himself become a heretic. Most members of the Franciscan Order submitted to the Pope's decrees, but in 1328 the head of the Order (Michael of Cesena) and several others including William of Ockham broke with John XXII and eventually sought the protection of the "Roman Emperor", Ludwig of Bavaria, who was already in dispute with John XXII. (The pope claimed that no one could become Roman Emperor without the pope's approval and had excommunicated Ludwig for exercising imperial powers without approval; Ludwig had been elected by a majority of the Electors of the Empire and had defeated the other candidate in battle.) For most of the rest of his life Ockham lived in Munich (Ludwig's city), out of the pope's reach. There he produced various writings against John XXII and Benedict XII, including:

• The Work of Ninety Days, a large work (about 600 pages in the modern edition) in which Ockham reports the answers made by the dissident Franciscans to John XXII's answer to Michael of Cesena's criticisms of John's decrees relating to the Franciscan life. (translation: electronic edition, printed edition).
  
• A Letter to the Friars Minor, addressed to the 1334 general meeting of the Franciscan Order (i.e. of those who had submitted to the pope), explaining why he was not with them.
  
• Against Benedict, against the pope who succeeded John XXII when he died.
  
• Eight Questions on the Power of the Pope, reporting and comparing various opinions on the powers of the pope in relation to the Roman Empire.
  
• A short discourse on the tyrannical government over things divine and human, but especially over the Empire and those subject to the Empire, usurped by some who are called Highest Pontiffs [i.e. Popes].
  
• On the Power of Emperors and Pontiffs. This little treatise, written in the final months of Ockham's life, was a kind of "apologia" for his religious and political anti-papal activism.

So what's the connection to the English Reformation? About six years ago, a collection of William of Ockham's works was found in the library at Lanhydrock in Cornwall, and researchers found annotations in the book that referenced texts that supported Henry VIII's efforts to establish his own authority over spiritual matters in England over the the pope's (at that time Clement VII). As this post on the Discover Britain website describes the discovery in 2015:

Dated 1495, the book is a summary of works by philosopher and theologian William of Ockham who was a major figure in medieval intellectual and political thought.

To help Henry VIII to gather evidence to support an annulment to his marriage, his agents scoured the country for texts such as Ockham’s which questioned the authority of the Pope and argued for the independence of the monarch.

The book at Lanhydrock contains marginal notes and marks which were made by Henry VIII’s secretarial staff to draw his attention to relevant passages.

The book has been at Lanhydrock for many years, but its direct connection to the Royal library was not known until Professor James Carley, an expert on the libraries of Henry VIII, was invited to examine some of the volumes in Lanhydrock’s collection.

Because William of Ockham thought that Pope John XXII (and his successor) had interfered in the Franciscan order and Ockham had appealed to Ludwig of Bavaria, Henry VIII's advisors found support for their monarch's authority in Ockham's works against the pope in the matter of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

Saint Thomas of Hereford, pray for us!

Image Credit (Public Domain): 1656 drawing by William Dugdale of ancient (13th. century?) stained glass windows then existing in the Church of St James the Great, Snitterfield, Warwickshire, showing a standing figure of Saint Thomas de Cantilupe (1220-1282), Bishop of Hereford

Image Credit (Public Domain): Unknown century 13th - Archives iconographiques du palais du Roure à Avignon

Henry VIII in Late July, 1540: Matching and Dispatching

On July 28, 1540, Henry VIII matched up Thomas Cromwell and Sir Walter Hungerford to be executed on Tower Hill while he married his fifth wife, Catherine Howard at Oatlands Palace after having his fourth marriage, to Anne of Cleves, declared null and void by Thomas Cranmer.

On July 30, 1840, Henry VIII matched up three Catholic supporters of his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, and three Zwinglian supporters of Thomas Cromwell, to be executed at Smithfield. The Catholics were hanged, drawn, and quartered; the Zwinglians were burned alive at the stake.

The chronicler Edward Hall described the event, obviously more sympathetic to one group than the other:

The thirtie daie of July, were drawen on herdelles out of the Tower to Smithfield, Robert Barnes Doctor in Diuinitee, Thomas Garard, and Wyllyam Jerome Bachelers in Diuinitee, Powell, Fetherston and Abell. The firste three were drawen to a stake, there before set up, and were hanged, hedded, and quartered. Here ye must note, that the first three, wer menne that professed the Gospell of Jesu Christ, and were Preachers thereof … [the first three] were detestable and abhominable Heretickes, and … had taught many heresies, the nomber whereof was to greate in the atteindor to be recited, so that there is not one alleged … in deede at their deathe, they asked the Sherifes, wherefore they were condempned, who answered, thei could not tell: but if I maie saie the truthe, moste menne said it was for Preachyng, against the Doctryne of Stephen Gardiner Bishoppe of Wynchester, who chiefly procured this their death … but greate pitie it was, that suche learned menne should bee cast awaie, without examinaction, neither knowyng what was laied to their charge, nor never called to answere.

The laste three … were put to death for Treason, and in their attaindor, is speciall mencion made of their offences, whiche was for the deniyng of the kynge ssupremacie, and affirmyng that his Mariage with the Lady Katheryne was good: These with other were the treasons, that thei wer attainted of, and suffered death for.

The problem, of course, with Hall's bias is that both groups were judged by Henry VIII to have betrayed him: Hall's heroes had defied his will for the Church of England and the Six Articles he was supporting at that time, as least, as a way to dispel dissent; the three Catholics by having defended his first wife Catherine of Aragon, crowned and anointed as his queen, who had suffered imprisonment for a long time--three wives had come and gone--that is, six years. Thomas Abell had time to carve a bell in the wall of his cell!

Thomas Abell, Richard Fetherston, and Edward Powell had all been chaplains and defenders of Queen Catherine of Aragon--very learned men; graduates of the University of Oxford. Thomas Abell had written Invicta veritas. An answere, That by no manner of law, it may be lawfull for the most noble King of England, King Henry the eight to be divorced from the queens grace, his lawfull and very wife. B.L. in 1532 and had also been implicated in the Nun of Kent cause celebre. Richard Fetherston had also written against Henry's divorce of Catherine in Contra divortium Henrici et Catharinae, Liber unus although no copy of the text survives. He also tutored the Princess Mary. Henry VIII had favored Edward Powell for his works against Lutheran doctrines in earlier days, but then Powell ran afoul of Henry's changing policies and desires to cast aside Catherine of Aragon. You may read more about them and their trials in Bede Camm's book on the martyrs beatified by Pope Leo XIII.

The Zwinglians Robert Barnes, Thomas Garrett, and William Jerome were also taken to Smithfield that day. Robert Barnes had attended the University of Cambridge and had "hung out" at the White Horse Inn with other Lutheran minded students and masters. While Thomas Cromwell was in power, they had preached against the Catholic Bishop, Stephen Gardiner, but once Cromwell fell and was executed on July 28, 1540, they lost their protector and were sentenced to death.

Both the Catholics and the Zwinglians were sentenced to death without trial. Bills of Attainder condemned the Catholics as Traitors and the Zwinglians as Heretics. Three hurdles dragged the men to Smithfield from the Tower; each hurdle held a traitor and a heretic. At Smithfield, the traitors were hung, cut down and butchered while alive, their bodies quartered and their heads cut for display; the heretics were burnt alive at the stake. A poem titled, "The Metynge of Doctor Barnes and Dr. Powell at Paradise Gate and of theyre communicacion bothe drawen to Smithfylde fro the Towar" described the juxtaposition of the Catholic and the Protestant that day.

As the Executed Today website sums it up:

The one thing that couldn’t possibly be confused in the day’s proceedings was that matters of the faith were matters of state, and in them Henry would brook heterodoxy of neither the liberal nor conservative variety.

“Good Lord! How do these people live?” exclaimed a foreign observer (cited here). “Here are the papists hanged, there are the anti-papists burnt!”

Catherine's former chaplains were beatified by Pope Leo XIII; the Zwinglian preachers were honored by John Foxe in his Acts and Monuments. And remember that Catherine Howard would be beheaded, matched up with Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford, without even celebrating her second wedding anniversary, on February 13, 1542.

Blessed Thomas Abell, pray for us!

Blessed Richard Fetherston, pray for us!

Blessed Edward Powell, pray for us!

Image credit (Public Domain): "Barnes and his Fellow-Prisoners Seeking Forgiveness", from an 1887 edition of Foxe's Book of Martyrs, illustrated by Kronheim.

Image credit (book cover): The Queen's Champion by John Lander

Preview: One of 29 Venerable English Martyrs on the Son Rise Morning Show

In 1886, Pope Leo XIII beatified 54 martyrs, including Thomas More and Bishop John Fisher, later canonized in 1935, and 11 others who were canonized in 1970 by Pope Paul VI; he also declared 29 English Catholic martyrs to be Venerable (several of these martyrs had died in chains, that is, is prison or because of their treatment in prison). These Venerable Martyrs were not included among those beatified in 1895, 1929, or 1987. 

The stages of a Cause for Canonization in the Catholic Church are indicated by the title granted the proposed saint along the way: 1) Servant of God; 2) Venerable; 3) Blessed; and 4) Saint. For example, Archbishop Sheen is still at the Venerable, although the miracle needed for his Beatification was approved a couple of years ago; Chaplain Emil Kapaun of my home diocese is a Servant of God.

On Monday, July 19, I'll tell the story of one of these martyrs, the Observant Franciscan, Venerable Anthony Brookby, on the Son Rise Morning Show--at my usual time, 6:50 a.m. Central/7:50 a.m. Eastern. Please listen live here on EWTN Radio's website or on your local EWTN radio affiliate.

Venerable Anthony Brookby was strangled to death, secretly in prison, 484 years ago on July 19, 1537 after enduring horrible torture in Newgate Prison. He had been Professor of Divinity at Magdalen College, Oxford, teaching theology and well-versed in Latin, Greek and Hebrew (signs that he was a Christian humanist in the mold of Bishop John Fisher, Erasmus, More and others). So how did he end up a martyr? Because he, like others in his house, opposed Henry VIII's actions in the King's Great Matter--and he remonstrated with Henry publicly in his sermons.

The Observant Franciscans had one of their friaries next door to the Tudor palace on the Thames, the Palace of Placentia, also known as Greenwich Palace (pictured above), now the location of the Royal Navy College and the Greenwich Observatory (up the hill!) Their chapel served almost as the Royal parish although there was a chapel in the palace, some ruins of which were discovered in 2005:

The friars' church was used for royal baptisms and marriages. Henry VIII was christened probably in this church (1491), and certainly his brother Edmund (1498). The marriage of Henry and Catherine took place at Greenwich, probably in the friars' church (1509). The Princess Mary was christened here 20 February, 1515-16, and the Princess Elizabeth 8 September, 1533.

Henry VIII admired the Observant Friars at Greenwich as much as he admired Bishop John Fisher (which we know didn't mean much once Henry had a certain goal in mind!):

Henry VIII, in 1513, wrote from his palace of Greenwich to Leo X that he could not sufficiently commend the Observant Friars' strict adherence to poverty, their sincerity, charity and devotion. No Order battled more assiduously against vice, and none were more active in keeping Christ's fold.

Remember that it was Pope Leo X who named Henry VIII "Defender of the Faith" in 1521 after the king wrote his book defending the Seven Sacraments of the Catholic Church against Martin Luther's teachings.

When the validity of Henry VIII's marriage to Catherine of Aragon first became an issue, the Observant Franciscans were all on her side, that is, convinced that their Sacramental Marriage was valid and the papal dispensation issued by Pope Julius II in 1503 proved it. One of the friars even preached against the king's desire to have that marriage declared null in Henry's--and Anne Boleyn's--presence at Greenwich in 1532 (on Easter Sunday)!

Therefore, Henry VIII really wanted to force the Observant Friars to accept his new queen and title as Supreme Head and Governor of the Church in England in 1534:

On 15 June the visitors tried to induce the Greenwich friars to adopt the same procedure [to entrust the decision for all the friars to the decision of a few friars], 'specially to the intent that if the discreets should refuse to consent, it were better after our minds to strain a few than a multitude.' The friars, however, 'stiffly affirmed that where the matter concerned particularly every one of their souls, they would answer particularly every man for himself.' After further discussion, the visitors were compelled to examine each friar separately, and each refused to accept the articles, especially that which denied the papal authority. In answer to all the arguments of the visitors they declared that 'they had professed St. Francis' religion, and in the observance thereof they would live and die.'

Reaction was swift to that refusal:

On 17 June two cart-loads of friars drove through London to the Tower, (fn. 52) and it is possible that some of the Greenwich Observants were among them. On or before 11 August the friars were expelled from their convent (fn. 53) (though they seem to have made some kind of submission (fn. 54) ) and distributed in different places, generally in houses of the Grey Friars, where, wrote Chapuys to Charles V, 'they were locked up in chains and treated worse than they could be in prison.' (fn. 55) Some, such as John Forest, were actually in prison in London. (fn. 56) Two of them, inclosed in a poor lodging at the Grey Friars, Stamford, and treated as prisoners, were ' in meetly good case as the world at this time requireth,' and sent to London for their little belongings, including a new Psalter, a pair of socks, a penner and inkhorn. (fn. 57) But the severity of their treatment is shown by the fact that out of 140 Observant Friars thirty-one soon died, (fn. 58) and this does not account for all the deaths. Thomas Bourchier, who was a member of the Greenwich friary in the reign of Mary, gives details of several martyrdoms which probably belong to this time, though the writer assigns them to 1537. (fn. 59) On 19 July Anthony Brdrbe [Brookby], formerly of Magdalen College, Oxford, a distinguished scholar, who had been imprisoned and tortured to such an extent that ' for twenty-five days he could not turn in bed or lift his hands to his mouth,' was strangled with his own cord. (fn. 60) On 27 July Thomas Cortt, who had been imprisoned for a sermon against the king in the church of St. Lawrence, London, died in Newgate. (fn. 61) On 3 August Thomas Belchiam, a young priest, who had composed a book against the king, one copy of which he left in the hands of his brethren at Greenwich, died of starvation in Newgate. (fn. 62) No mention of these three friars occurs in extant contemporary authorities, but Bourchier's account representing the tradition of the Order is probably substantially correct, though the names may be misspelt.

The secrecy of their imprisonment, torture, and deaths reminds me of the sufferings several of the Carthusians endured, harassed for a time and then imprisoned and left to die of dehydration and starvation. 

Venerable Anthony Brookby and others among the Observant Franciscans suffered and died because, as Henry VIII himself had said, they were "active in keeping Christ's fold", urging him not to divide the Church and set himself up as the Caesar-Pope of England and calling on him to repent and return to the Church and his marriage to Catherine of Aragon. They were bold and brave!

Venerable Anthony Brookby, pray for us!

Image Credit (public domain): A sketch of Greenwich Palace, published in The Gentleman's Magazine in 1840 (earlier published by W. Bristow in 1797)

Thomas Wolsey's Predecessor at York: Christopher Cardinal Bainbridge, RIP

According to the Catholic Encyclopedia, Christopher Cardinal Bainbridge, Henry VIII's man in Rome and Thomas Wolsey's predecessor in the Archdiocese of York, died on this date in 1514:

Archbishop of York, and Cardinal, b. at Hilton, near Appleby, in Westmoreland, probably 1464; d. at Rome, 14 July, 1514. He proceeded to Oxford, entering Queen's College, of which he became provost in or before 1495, being about that time admitted LL.D.; he became later a liberal benefactor to his college. He held a number of benefices, including the treasurership of the Diocese of London, on Henry VII's presentation, and Master of the Rolls, a post he held till his elevation to the See of Durham, which took place in 1507, nominated thereto by the king, who restored the temporalities of the see to him. He was consecrated on 12 December. This see he held but a short while, being translated to York the next year by a papal Bull dated 20 September, 1508. In 1509 he was sent by Henry VIII as his ambassador to Rome. Julius II created him a cardinal on 10 March, 1511, giving him the title of St. Praxedis, in reward for negotiating Henry's adherence to the pope as against France, for which country he felt a strong antipathy all his life. As cardinal he was commissioned by Julius to lead a military expedition against Ferrara, which he successfully besieged. He endeavoured to secure from Pope Leo X the bestowal on Henry of the title of "Most Christian King" which Louis of France had forfeited by waging war against the pope; but the peace of 1514 made this project abortive. Bainbridge was poisoned by an Italian priest named Rinaldo de Modena, who acted as his steward or bursar, in revenge for a blow which the cardinal, a man of violent temper, had given him. It was hinted that the crime was perpetrated at the instigation of Silvestri de Gigli, Bishop of Worcester, the resident English ambassador at Rome, but de Giglis exonerated himself. Bainbridge was buried in the English Hospice, now known as the English College, Rome. He was a stout upholder of Henry's interests at the Curia.

According to the blog of the Archives of the Venerable English College in Rome:

Bainbridge had other responsibilities. Most notably, for our purposes, he acted as Warden of the English Hospice from 1510, though his trusty secretaries William Burbanke and Richard Pace (c.1483–1536) did much of the day-to-day work. He served in the Roman Rota, the papal court of appeal, and in 1513 became Cardinal Protector of the Cistercian Order.

Dr. Nicholas Schofield offers some insights into the circumstances of his death:

Accounts differ as to the motivation of this crime: some say that Rinaldo was seeking revenge after the cardinal had struck him during an argument, others that he was hired by Gigli. Such rivals had much to gain from the cardinal’s demise: Gigli replaced him as Warden of the Hospice and Wolsey as Cardinal Archbishop of York.

Bainbridge’s Requiem was celebrated in the Hospice chapel, where he was buried; initially his splendid tomb was placed before the High Altar before being moved to the side. It has experienced the ravages of time – when Nicholas Wiseman first saw the chapel in 1818, he described the richly effigied tomb as ‘shattered and defaced’. Its presence takes us back to the days of the Hospice, when the Catholic King of England sent a prelate as his Ambassador to Rome.

The Hospice was ransacked during Charles V's siege of Rome and after Henry VIII's break from Rome was no longer the English Hospice at all. As the VEC History explains:

By the time of the Reformation, the Hospice was badly run and in decline. Church authorities decided to turn it into a seminary. The first six students came from Douai in 1577 and attended lectures at the Jesuit-run Collegio Romano, precursor of the Gregorian University. The following year all the students signed the Missionary Oath in the Liber Ruber, the historic book which to this day records the names and details of every student in the College. The first to sign was St Ralph Sherwin, who swore to return to England “hodie quam cras” (today rather than tomorrow). Pope Gregory XIII issued the bull of foundation of the English College on 1 May 1579, celebrated as Founders’ Day. But the new College got off to a shaky start with acerbic disputes between students and the College authorities which were in time resolved.

Bainbridge’s story also reminds us of a time when Italian priests served as bishops for England. Silvestri de Gigli succeeded his uncle Giovanni de Gigli as Bishop of Worcester in 1498; when Silvestri died in 1521, Girolamo De Ghinucci succeeded him in 1522 and was deprived of his bishopric in 1535 by Henry VIII. For a time, the future Pope Clement VII (Giulio di Giuliano de' Medici) served as apostolic administrator between Gigli and Ghinucci. Hugh Latimer replaced Ghinucci as Henry VIII's choice.

Image Credit (public domain): a 19th century portrait of Bainbridge by  G. Francisi.

G.K. Chesterton, RIP

So last Friday night, on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, our Greater Wichita Chesterton Society local chapter (including residents of Derby, St. Mark's, Hutchinson and Newton) met in The Ladder to finish our discussion of Joseph Pearce's biography of G.K. Chesterton. As you might expect, the last event in Chesterton's life to be discussed was his death, 85 years ago today (June 14, 1936).

There were two very beautiful anecdotes about Chesterton's decline and death. One was that he had memorized the Sequence for the Feast of Corpus Christi (having published his great work on St. Thomas Aquinas just three years before in 1933). Pearce quoted the last two stanzas of Lauda Sion, with its prayer to see God face-to-face at the Heavenly Banquet:

Bone pastor, panis vere,

Jesu, nostri miserére:

Tu nos pasce, nos tuére:

Tu nos bona fac vidére

In terra vivéntium.

Tu, qui cuncta scis et vales:

Qui nos pascis hic mortáles:

Tuos ibi commensáles,

Cohærédes et sodáles,

Fac sanctórum cívium.

Amen. Alleluia.

He also cited the last words of Verbum supernum prodiens, reflecting on Heaven as being in patria (our true native land!). For a man who loved England so much, this was remarkable statement.

UPDATE: I think that the feast of Corpus Christi was celebrated on Thursday, June 11 in 1936. (Easter was on April 12; Pentecost on May 31, and Trinity Sunday on June 7.)

The other anecdote was that Pope Pius XI sent telegrams to Frances Chesterton and Cardinal Hinsley, referring to Chesterton as a "Defender of the Catholic Faith". The telegram was read at a memorial Requiem Mass celebrated at Westminster Cathedral on June 27, 1936. The British press would not publish the pope's telegram because it gave Chesterton the title which, in its view, belonged only to the King of England, Edward VIII. (Edward VIII had not been crowned yet and never would be because he abdicated in December of 1936 because he could not reign "without the help and support of the woman" he loved.)

Since he had not been crowned or anointed, or sworn his coronation oath to defend the faith, the future Duke of Kent was not really the Defender of the Faith at that time at all! 

I wonder what Chesterton would have made of all the ironies of Edward VIII's abdication in his column for G.K.'s Weekly.

Pearce reminded us, of course, that King Henry VIII had received the title "Fidei Defensor" from Pope Leo X "shortly before the King had rebelled against the Church". It was actually in 1521, about six years before Henry started seeking an annulment of his marriage to Katherine of Aragon. We could date his rebellion against the Catholic Church and Papal authority to 1532, so perhaps not that "shortly before". Pearce also comments that Chesterton had little in common with the king, "except perhaps the size of their girths."! (p. 485)

You may see a digitized image (showing the damage incurred in a fire) of the Papal Bull of Pope Leo X proclaiming Henry VIII the Defender of the Faith at the British Library's Medieval Manuscripts blog, reminding us why he received that title:

Henry was given the title Defender of the Faith in recognition for his Assertio Septem Sacramentorum (Defence of the Seven Sacraments). Possibly written in consultation with Thomas More (b. 1478, d. 1535) and Cardinal Wolsey (b. c. 1473, d. 1530), Henry’s principal statesmen at this point in his reign, this theological treatise acted as a response to the pronouncements of the German theologian Martin Luther (b. 1483, d. 1546), whose ideas helped to shape the Protestant Reformation movement during the 16th century. . . .

Henry’s positive relationship with the Papacy did not last. Only a decade after Leo X issued the papal bull, Henry decided to break away from the Church of Rome, following Pope Clement VII’s refusal to annul his marriage to his first wife Catherine of Aragon (b. 1485, d. 1536). He also distanced himself from the Assertio, claiming that he had been manoeuvred into writing it by his bishops. His actions ultimately resulted in his own excommunication by Clement’s successor Paul III (b. 1468, d. 1549) in 1538 and he was stripped of the title Defender of the Faith.

However, towards the end of Henry’s reign, in 1543, the English Parliament passed an act that restored the title for him and his successors. Since then, it has continued to be used as part of the styling of British monarchs (including the reigning Elizabeth II) to indicate their role as Head of the Church of England. It even features on coins of the realm, with the Latin Fidei defensor appearing in its abbreviated form F.D beside the Queen’s portrait.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton, Defender of the Catholic Faith, Rest in Peace in Our True Native Land!

St. Thomas of Canterbury on the Son Rise Morning Show

Just a reminder that I'll be on the Son Rise Morning Show this morning at about 7:50 Eastern/6:50 Central to talk about how St. Thomas of Canterbury (aka Becket) is back in the news since the postponed commemoration of the 850th anniversary of his martyrdom is ramping up. 

Please listen live here or on EWTN radio, on-line or on your local station, as this second hour is now broadcast on EWTN.

When Henry VIII commanded that "the dayes used to be festivall in [St Thomas of Canterbury's] name" be removed from the calendar in his Church of England, he was referring to two feasts: that of his martyrdom on December 29 and that of the translation of his relics to the great shrine in Trinity Chapel in the Cathedral of Canterbury on July 7. 

That latter date was on St. Thomas More's mind in 1535 as he awaited execution in the Tower of London. He hoped it would be scheduled on July 6, the eve of the Feast of the Translation of St. Thomas of Canterbury.

2020 was not only the 850th anniversary of the first feast, but also the 800th anniversary of the second feast, as the saint's relics were moved to the shrine in 1220. For 318 years, until Henry VIII ordered its destruction, thousands of pilgrims came to Canterbury to ask for the martyr's prayers for their intentions. In honor of that 800th anniversary, a digital recreation of the shrine was created.

The BBC posted a story about the digital model, but The Daily Mail story also includes a video.

The model was based on several first hand reports by pilgrims and depicts it as it would have appeared in 1408, according to this article:

Besides Erasmus there are at least seven surviving first-hand accounts of the pilgrim experience within the cathedral from the early 14th century, as well as one locally composed poem on the subject and the surviving Customary of the shrine. 20 Erasmus’s is the latest of all these sources, and the only one to visit the Martyrdom or tomb before going to the shrine. As I have argued elsewhere, all sources apart from Erasmus show that the ‘typical’ pilgrim went directly to the shrine up the south choir aisle and only then to some or all of the other ‘stations’, dependent on status, need or interests. 21 In addition to the accounts cited in my previous work, a newly discovered Florentine merchant’s account of his visit in 1444 confirms the shrine as the first port of call, followed by a selection of the other sites (in his case not including the tomb). 22 Even if the cathedral had been planned so that pilgrims, rather than monastic processions, would move from Martyrdom to tomb to shrine, the evidence from the later Middle Ages strongly indicates they were not doing so. Some of the previously reconstructed pilgrim routes would have taken the laity through such intimate monastic spaces as the north choir aisle and even into the choir itself. While special visitors such as Erasmus and the Florentine merchant may have been given this treatment as part of a guided tour, if used as a general route monastic liturgy and pilgrim activity would have had to take place at separate times, for both used the same spaces. Yet the Customary and other accounts provide evidence that pilgrim activity was managed so that it could take place at the same time as, and adjacent to, the monastic liturgy. The celebration of divine service in the choir at the heart of the cathedral provided a sensory backdrop to the activity at the shrine, enhancing and shaping the pilgrim experience and emphasising the custodial role of the monks in the cult. 23

Just like the Miracle windows that surrounded the shrine on the North and South aisles of the cathedral, the lost shrine fascinates historians and archaeologists as they explore the past. St. Thomas of Canterbury, as the defender of the freedom of the Church in the 12th century--therefore a hero today for religious liberty--can be honored more by Catholics as a symbol in a cause than as a saint, an intercessor in Heaven to pray for us. Medieval pilgrims didn't visit Canterbury Cathedral because they wanted to demonstrate their disagreement with what Henry II had done or his knights had done, to take a stand against the State or their ruler. They came to the saint's shrine to ask for his prayers for their health, healing, and other needs and to make reparation for their confessed and forgiven sins. 

Saint Thomas of Canterbury, pray for us!

Preview: St. Thomas a Becket, Rescheduled

At the beginning of last year (2020!), Anna Mitchell, Matt Swaim, and I discussed on the Son Rise Morning Show the major historical anniversaries to be remembered and celebrated that year. One of the major events was the 850th anniversary of the "Murder in the Cathedral", the martyrdom of St. Thomas of Canterbury on December 29, 1170. Events in Canterbury and a major exhibition at the British Museum were planned.

Then of course, COVID-19 shutdowns and crowd management intervened and, except for the usual celebrations of his feast at Mass during the Octave of Christmas--and an extraordinary proclamation from the White House of President Donald J. Trump--all those plans were scrapped.

But now, St. Thomas a Becket is back in the news again as the planned exhibit at the British Museum is going to open in April, so I'll be on the Son Rise Morning Show at my usual time (7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central) on Monday, February 1st to talk with Anna Mitchell about his enduring significance--and a surprising discovery made when one of the surviving stained glass windows from his destroyed shrine (Henry VIII's work!) was put back together in the right order for the first time in 350 years! A conference at Canterbury Cathedral has also been rescheduled for April.

Please listen live here or on EWTN radio, on-line or on your local station, as this second hour is now broadcast on EWTN.

First, an excerpt from the December 28, 2020 Proclamation from the Trump White House:

Thomas Becket’s martyrdom changed the course of history. It eventually brought about numerous constitutional limitations on the power of the state over the Church across the West. In England, Becket’s murder led to the Magna Carta’s declaration 45 years later that: “[T]he English church shall be free, and shall have its rights undiminished and its liberties unimpaired.”

When the Archbishop refused to allow the King to interfere in the affairs of the Church, Thomas Becket stood at the intersection of church and state. That stand, after centuries of state-sponsored religious oppression and religious wars throughout Europe, eventually led to the establishment of religious liberty in the New World. It is because of great men like Thomas Becket that the first American President George Washington could proclaim more than 600 years later that, in the United States, “All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship” and that “it is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights.”

Thomas Becket’s death serves as a powerful and timeless reminder to every American that our freedom from religious persecution is not a mere luxury or accident of history, but rather an essential element of our liberty. It is our priceless treasure and inheritance. And it was bought with the blood of martyrs. . . .

To honor Thomas Becket’s memory, the crimes against people of faith must stop, prisoners of conscience must be released, laws restricting freedom of religion and belief must be repealed, and the vulnerable, the defenseless, and the oppressed must be protected. The tyranny and murder that shocked the conscience of the Middle Ages must never be allowed to happen again. As long as America stands, we will always defend religious liberty.

A society without religion cannot prosper. A nation without faith cannot endure — because justice, goodness, and peace cannot prevail without the grace of God.

Next, the explanation from Canterbury Cathedral of how the mix-up on one of the surviving stained glass Miracles was discovered and corrected:

This is the first time one of the famed Miracle Windows – which were made in the early 1200s to surround Becket’s now-lost shrine in the Cathedral’s Trinity Chapel – have ever been lent, and the first time the glass has ever left the Cathedral, since their creation 800 years ago. The seven surviving windows, from an original series of twelve, tell several of the evocative stories of miracles attributed to Becket in the three years following his death, and are the only known depictions of Becket’s miracle stories in any media.

New research in collaboration with the foremost expert on the Becket miracles, Rachel Koopmans of York University, Toronto, has revealed that some of the panels have been in the wrong order for centuries. They were probably mixed up during a hasty rearrangement in the 1660s and the errors were discovered after close inspection of individual pieces under a microscope. When the window is shown at the British Museum, it will be rearranged in the correct narrative order, and this will be the first time in over 350 years that visitors will be able to view these panels as they were made to be seen. It will also be the very first time the window can be seen up-close at eye-level.

Leonie Seliger, Director of Stained Glass Conservation at Canterbury Cathedral, said: “The Miracle Windows are medieval versions of graphic novels illustrating the experiences of ordinary people. They greeted the pilgrims at the culmination of their journey to Becket’s shrine with images that would be reassuring and uplifting. The window that will be shown at the British Museum is only one of seven that remain, and they are one of Canterbury Cathedral’s greatest treasures.”

It's rather surprising to me that any of the windows survived the destruction of the saint's shrine in 1538--the act that finally led to Henry VIII's excommunication by Pope Paul III on December 17, 1538.

In Henry VIII's Proclamation of November 17, 1538, he had stated:

Therefore his Grace strayghtly chargeth and commandeth that from henseforth the sayde Thomas Becket shall not be estemed, named, reputed, nor called a sayncte, but bysshop Becket; and that his ymages and pictures, through the hole realme, shall be putte downe, and avoyded out of all churches, chapelles, and other places; and that from henseforthe, the dayes used to be festivall in his name shall not be observed, nor the service, office, antiphoners, colletes, and prayers, in his name redde, but rased and put out of all the bokes.”

A Reformation era example of "cancel culture".