Music in Heaven

From songs of praise the Saints no moment spare

no tears are seen nor any eyes to weep

but in this place the music is so rare

as half a sound would bring all hearts asleep.

- St Philip Howard

(From I Guiney's Recusant Poets,

Sheed end Ward, London, 1938)

Photograph: Arundel from the River Arun, used with permission.

Copyright J. Salmon Ltd., Sevenoaks, England (C)

Picture of St Philip Howard from the book St Philip Howard His Life and Times, used with permission Copyright (C) The Arundel & Brighton Diocesan Trust

The Life of Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel, Saint and Martyr

ISBN 0-646-35924-X

Copyright (C)1998 T L Griffin

Layout and design: Br J Ben Boonen, cfc

Brothers Information Technology Services

Contents

1 Introduction 1

2 His Birth and Parentage 5

3 Childhood and Education 7

4 Life at Court 10

5 Conversion to the Faith 13

6 Beginning of his Troubles 15

7 Reconciliation to Church 17

8 Resolution to leave Kingdom 18

9 Commitment to Tower 27

10 Examination in Star Chamber 29

11 Strictness of Imprisonment 32

12 Calumnies in Imprisonment 34

13 Manner of Further Downfall 38

14 Examination about Loyalty 40

15 Arraignment, Condemnation 43

16 Philip after Condemnation 46

17 Manner of Life in the Tower 50

18 Philip's Last Sickness 53

Epilogue 57

Historical Sources 59

Acknowledgements

My appreciation is expressed to:

His Grace the Duke of Norfolk

for his interest and encouraging approval:

I hope your publication of your Life of St Philip

the Martyr goes forward and is a great success.

Barry Coldrey, CFC,

for obtaining the manuscript

from which the present text is adapted.

Ron Stewart, CFC, end Jo Hannigan

for their secretarial assistance.

J Ben Boonen, CFC,

for the book's production.

John Gleeson and Barry Gilmore

for advice and help.

The Cathedral of our Lady and St Philip Howard

and The Salmon Studio

for permission to use copyright material.

T L Griffin, CFC

1 Introduction

The earliest account of the life of St Philip Howard can be found in old manuscripts, written, it is believed, while his wife, Ann, Countess of Arundel, was still living. The Countess died in 1630. Over two hundred years later, in 1857, the then Duke of Norfolk edited the centuries old manuscripts and had them published under the title: The Lives of Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel and Ann Dacres, his Wife. In the 'lives' the Elizabethan style of expression, spelling and typography are faithfully preserved, opening a window in the then contemporary writing on people and events long gone by, with all the charm and fascination conjured up by a genuine antique.

In the 'lives' a little piece of sixteenth century England comes alive; on one hand its glitter and splendour, on the other, the reality of its awfulness and tragedy. The old manuscripts provide little historical background to Philip's biography, since the political and religious issues were well known to the author and his readers. Present day readers, far removed from Philip and his times in which politics and religion were inextricably linked, may beneficially recall the second half of the sixteenth century that shaped his thirty seven years of life.

Lord Philip Howard was born on the 28th June in 1557, the second last year of the reign of Queen Mary I, daughter of Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon. Queen Mary, a staunch Catholic, had restored England to the old faith on her accession to the throne in 1553. Mary's reign, however, was short; she died in November 1558 and was succeeded by Elizabeth I.

Elizabeth was Mary's half-sister, the daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. During Mary's reign, Elizabeth had professed Catholicism but, until then, her whole religious background had been Church of England. It was influenced also by the European Protestantism that gained a firm grip on the Church of England during the regency of Edward VI, Elizabeth's half-brother, with whose court she had been closely associated.

In Elizabeth's first Parliament, 1559, the Pope's spiritual jurisdiction over England was revoked, and the Church of England restored. An act of the same Parliament conferred on Elizabeth the tide and office of Supreme Governor of the Church of England, and, another act, The Act of Uniformity, obliged everyone to conform their religious beliefs and practices to those set out in The Book of Common Prayer, enacted in 1552 during the reign of Edward VI.

This Act of Uniformity Elizabeth's attempt to end 'the religious question' by compromise was unique in that it compelled people to attend Church on Sundays and Holy Days under pain of fines and imprisonment. The Act of Supremacy, on the other hand, turned into traitors all who refused under oath to accept Elizabeth as Supreme Governor of the Church. The penalty for treason was death.

These two acts of Parliament were meant to ring the death knell on Catholicism in England. One of Elizabeth's Councillors, William Cecil, a commoner, who, like other advisers around the Queen, had grown rich on either the cheap sale or grants of monastic lands, was single-mindedly intent on administering the acts, and determined on the total destruction of the old faith for domestic and international political reasons.

Elizabeth's Church of England, though by law established, had a difficult theological birth. The Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity proved stumbling blocks to the Bishops; all but one of them either resigned their Sees or eventually went to prison rather than reject the old faith. There was dissent, too, at Oxford and Cambridge Universities, at that time England's great centres for theological learning and priestly formation. Heads of Colleges and graduates from both Universities deserted their posts and went overseas to Louvain where they formed a scholarly English community in exile. Prominent among these was Doctor William Allen. In 1561 he had been appointed Principal of St Mary's Hall, Oxford, but refused to take the Oath of Supremacy which admission to that post required. He, too, found his way to Louvain where, in 1564 he was ordained to the priesthood.

While on the Continent Doctor Allen traveled widely and kept in touch with English Catholics in exile. By 1567 he had visited Rome. Soon afterwards he made his momentous decision: to establish a Seminary to train young Englishmen for the priesthood at the newly founded University of Douai, in the Spanish Netherlands. Doctor Allen's venture proved a remarkable success. Within ten years of its existence seventy-seven young Englishmen had been ordained at Douai for their hidden and dangerous mission in England. Spies and priest-hunters abounded on both sides of the English Channel - money could be had for the arrest of priests and later for those who harbored them. The Government was especially alarmed by this influx of a new class of priests. There was constant fear, too, among the Council that through their influence English Catholics might link with Catholic Spain for the overthrow of Elizabeth and her State church.

Another of Doctor Allen's achievements abroad was the printing of Catholic books and pamphlets for distribution in England. One of his greatest collaborators in this work was a young Oxford graduate, Gregory Martin, who has a place in Philip Howard's life story. He was one of Philip's early tutors. Subsequently it was as Doctor Gregory Martin that he translated the New Testament into English at Douai. In 1582 the New Testament was published at Rheims in France -by then through religious wars Douai was no longer such a safe place for Catholics.

In 1576, the still well known English College was set up in Rome with the sole purpose of supplying priests for the English mission. Besides, Englishmen also went to St Omer in France, Valladolid in Spain or Lisbon in Portugal to train for the priesthood despite the well known grisly death of being hanged, drawn and quartered if captured on return to England.

In 1580, due to the influence of Doctor Allen, the newly founded Society of Jesus decided to send a mission to England - Fathers Robert Persons and Edmund Campion. Edmund Campion, 1540-1581, had been brought up in the Church of England. He did brilliantly at Oxford, and was later described by Sir William Cecil, one of Elizabeth's chief advisers, as a 'diamond of England'. However, while exercising ministry in the Church of England, Campion began to doubt the validity of the new religion. His doubts led him to reconciliation with the Catholic faith, flight to Douai and ordination as a priest there; subsequently he became a Jesuit. On return to England, disguised as a gold-smith, he hoped by theological debate and writing a defence of the Catholic religion he would convince Protestants of the truth of the old religion. After little more than a year's ministry he was arrested and placed in the Tower.

While in the Tower, after severe racking, solitary confinement and without prior notice or access to reference books, Campion, (now St Edmund Campion) was forced by members of the Queen's Council to debate the Catholic cause in public with well briefed Protestant theologians. In this way the Council hoped to discredit one of Oxford's brightest lights even before his show trial for treason. The plan failed hopelessly - members of the audience began to sympathise with Edmund Campion, and to accept his arguments and leave the room. The debates were discontinued. Though charged with treason, the spurious trial of Edmund Campion and his fellow priests failed to obscure the real reason for condemnation and execution -their religion.

The fate of St Edmund Campion and his fellow martyrs did nothing to halt the steady stream of Seminary priests and Jesuits into England. The result was another Act of Parliament passed in 1585 requiring all Jesuits, Seminary and other priests wheresoever ordained outside of England to depart the country within forty days.

The translation of Philip Howard's old biography that follows this historical outline of the era in which he lived tries to preserve the flavor of the old documents while supplying more historical background where required.

2 Birth and Parentage

Among the many noble families of England in the middle of the sixteenth century, none was more famous, nor more illustrious than the Howards. Nor amongst them was anyone destined to be more widely and longer remembered than Lord Philip, son of Thomas Howard, fourth Duke of Norfolk. Philip was born at Arundel House in London, on the 28th June in the year, 1557, which was the fourth year of the reign of Queen Mary the First, worthy of memory for her strong Catholic faith and zeal for its restoration in England.

Philip's mother was the Lady Mary Fitzallen, the younger daughter and heiress of Henry Fitzallen, Earl of Arundel. Two months after his birth she died at the early age of seventeen.

Philip was baptised in the chapel of the Queen's Palace in Whitehall. His baptism was a grand occasion. Queen Mary and all the principal persons of the court were present. The christening was performed by Dr. Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York and Chancellor of the Kingdom. The font was of gold, made especially for baptising princes of the realm, and kept in the treasury. His godfathers were King Philip of Spain, Queen Mary's husband, from whom he received his name; the other his grandfather, the Earl of Arundel, to whose title and estate he later succeeded, because the Earl died without an heir. And the old Duchess of Norfolk, his great grandmother, was the godmother.

Philip's father, still a young man, later married Lady Margaret Audley, daughter of a former Lord Chancellor of England, Sir Thomas Audley, of Walden in Essex. Three children were born of this marriage, two sons, Lords Thomas and William, and one daughter, Lady Margaret.

After the death of Duchess Margaret Howard, the Duke of Norfolk married again; his third wife was Lady Dacres, the daughter of Sir James Labourn of Lancashire, and widow of Lord Dacres of the North of England. Lady Dacres was already the mother of four children, one son and three daughters. In those days of arranged marriages it was decided that the Duke's only daughter, Lady Margaret, should marry the young Lord Dacres. However, following the latter's death in a riding accident, a new arrangement was agreed upon -the Duke's three sons would marry Lady Dacres' three daughters.

3. Philip's Childhood and Education

Philip's father took great care of him during his infancy and childhood, since he was his eldest son and heir both of his own house, and that of his grandfather, the Earl of Arundel. He appointed an experienced and upright Gentlewoman to oversee his infancy, and some others to teach him the rudiments of learning until he came to be of sufficient development for further teaching, and this came sooner than ordinarily by reason of his natural vivacity and intelligence.

For this purpose the Duke chose Mr Gregory Martin, Fellow of St John's College, Oxford, a man of great learning with special skill in Greek and Hebrew, and with an extraordinary reputation for worthy living. But Gregory Martin, being wholly Catholic in his judgment and inclination, either could not or would not stay in the Duke's household after certain Ministers of the new religion had come to preach the new religion there. Either then or soon after he resolved to become a Catholic and go overseas, where he became a priest. It is of interest to note here that Dr Gregory Martin's New Testament in English was read by St Margaret Clitherow in her third imprisonment in 1584 in York for non-attendance at Church of England services.

From Gregory Martin's experience in the Duke of Norfolk's employment, it is clear that his employer conformed to the Church of England. Philip Howard was thus brought up in the established Church.

When Philip was about eleven years old in 1568, an event occurred destined to change his father's fortune and eventually to decide his fate. That year Mary, Queen of Scots, escaped her Scottish prison and sought refuge in the North of England. Mary was immediately placed under close guard; but her presence in England was of great concern to Elizabeth and her Government. Not only was Mary Elizabeth's cousin and next in line to the English Throne, but she was also a Catholic with strong links with France. Elizabeth's Council acted cautiously. It decided that a Tribunal should be set up in York where both English and Scottish peers should hear the charge against the Queen of Scots. Philip Howard's father, then a member of Elizabeth's Privy Council, was chosen to head this Tribunal.

Fearing that the York Tribunal was too favorably disposed to Mary's cause, the Government had it transferred to London. Nothing had been decided. Mary remained in closer guard. Then in 1569 a rumour arose: the Duke of Norfolk, whose third wife had recently died, was named in a plot to marry the Queen of Scots. The Government became alarmed; the Duke was arrested and sent to the Tower.

It could be asked whether Philip Howard's first experience of the inside of the Tower of London was during a visit to his father in this imprisonment. Whether it was or not is not recorded. Moreover, there is little evidence that Philip was ever closely connected with his father.

After eight months' imprisonment, the Duke was released in August 1570. His freedom was short lived. In 1572 the 'Ridolfi plot' surfaced. It claimed that the Duke of Norfolk was in collusion with Roberto Ridolfi, an Italian banker, and the King of Spain in a plan to overthrow Elizabeth and to elevate the Catholic Mary, Queen of Scots, to the English Throne.

Although he maintained his innocence and denied he was ever a Papist, the Duke was executed for treason on Tower Hill in June 1572.At that time Philip would have been fifteen years old. There is no record of how his father's execution affected him.

Philip's personal story is now resumed after this review of his father's life and death.

During the time that Mr Martin had charge of Philip, he gained a great deal from his learning, and from what he saw in him and heard from him. In after years he acknowledged that it was Gregory Martin's influence in his formative years that helped him to embrace again and value the old faith

As soon as Philip turned twelve he was, by the appointment of his father, and his own free consent, publicly married or betrothed to Ann Dacres, eldest daughter and heir of Lord Dacres of the North. About two years afterwards, when he was at the years of full consent, that is, after fourteen complete, Philip and Ann were married again by special order of the Duke of Norfolk, then a prisoner in the Tower, out of fear lest the first marriage might be annulled by order of the Queen or some other means. Not without reason he suspected some would attempt to make it void, had the marriage not been past breaking by the contract being repeated.

Not long after his father's execution in 1572, when Philip was about fifteen years of age, he, together with his two younger brothers, went to the University of Cambridge, and remained there about two years. At Cambridge he gained a Master of Arts degree. But, as the old chronicler records, it is certain that, in other respects, he received no small detriment, partly by the bad example he saw there, partly by the liberty permitted him but principally by the flattery of some Ministers, which was sometimes so palpable, that his wife recorded later how ashamed she was to hear it.

4. Life at Court

When Philip was about eighteen in 1575, he went to Court -a most dangerous place for a young man with his background, and already a web of flattery, favouritism and intrigue. It appears he had learned nothing from his father's experience there years earlier. His father's military campaign against the Scots had placed him high in Elizabeth's esteem. Notwithstanding, the Duke of Norfolk found it impossible to dislodge the Earl of Leicester and Sir William Cecil from their spheres of influence around the Queen. His son Philip on the other hand at a mere eighteen went to Court with the avowed intention of winning the Queen's favour.

Early at Court Philip found himself the object of flattery or bribes in the form of gifts of money, golden rings, jewellery and other tokens given to him, as the old chronicler puts it 'by persons of evil condition'. The chronicler describes this as one of the 'inconveniences' he experienced there, and relates: 'For which after his conversion he showed much sorrow, and by way of satisfaction, as he himself signified in a letter sent from the Tower to Father Robert Southwell, of the Society of Jesus, who then was in his wife's household and afterwards a glorious martyr, that he intended after his freedom from the Tower to have money distributed to the poor which could have been made from such gifts'.

Not long after being at Court, Philip began to neglect his wife, Ann, seldom either visiting or communicating with her. Indeed, after some time he seemed to reject Ann by saying to other Courtiers that he did not know whether she was his wife or not. Then he so wholly absented himself from her, as if he did not really regard her as his wife. The reason for this was his desire to please the Queen. Since he understood from Courtiers who knew his birthright, that he could be in great danger of being rejected by the Queen, he endeavored by all means to get and keep her favour. Because he understood that the Queen could not endure his wife (nor the wife of any man to whom she showed any special favour, he thereupon neglected Ann in such a way as was notorious to all who knew them. He still cast doubts on whether she was his wife or not, though for more sureness they had been married twice, and for some years had lived together in the same house.

At Court, furthermore, he was led by bad advice to neglect his duty to the Earl of Arundel, his grandfather, and to behave very badly towards his aunt, the Lady Lumley, which distressed her and disgusted her father, the Earl. They were both so offended by his conduct that they alienated to others a great part of their estate which otherwise would have gone to him. If the Earl's estate had come entirely to him and had been joined to what he inherited from his father and that portion of the Dacres' land which he possessed in right from his wife, Philip would have owned the greatest wealth and power without comparison with any subject in the Realm. Therefore some politically minded persons around the Queen, fearing that he might be too great led him into excess spending which almost ruined him.

So, his largesse at Court resulted in his spending immense sums of money on various tiltings and tourneys staged upon the anniversary days of the Queen's coronation with the sole object of pleasing her. He also underwent enormous expenditure entertaining important ambassadors and the Queen herself at his house in Keninghall in Norfolk.

For several days he lodged and feasted not only the Queen herself, but all her family, council, courtiers and all their company. In addition, he entertained all the gentlemen and people of the county, who came on such occasions in such plentiful, bountiful and splendid manner as had never been seen before in those counties. Afterwards, he did the same at his house in Norwich, that same summer when the Queen came to see that city and county. So deeply did he become indebted by these means that for many years later, he was scarcely able to clear himself of debt, indeed could not do so without the sale of a good quantity of his own and of his wife's lands.

However, in 1580, Philip's life veered in a new direction. His grandfather, the Earl of Arundel, died that year. Then Philip left London for Arundel Castle, situated on the lovely Arun River in the rurally beautiful County of Sussex. As Earl of Arundel and Surrey, and just twenty three years old, he was reunited with Ann. Two children were born to them, a daughter and a son. The son whom Philip never saw succeeded him as Earl of Arundel but the daughter died young.

5. Conversion to the Catholic Faith

The 'inconveniences' mentioned in the preceding chapter were very great; and he fell into them by following the court. But there was another inconvenience which was far greater and proceeded from the fame he acquired: namely, a total neglect of his duty to Almighty God. For during all that time he was so carried away with company, youthful entertainments, pleasures and delights that his mind being wholly possessed by them and other worldly vanities, he did fear so much to think of God (as he acknowledged afterwards) or of anything concerning religion and the saving of his soul. Until, by the providence of God, it so happened that he was present at the disputation which was made in the Tower of London in 1581 concerning diverse points of religion.

The disputation was between Father Edmund Campion of the Society of Jesus, Father Sherwin and some other priests on one side and Clarke, Fulk, Whitakers and some other Protestant ministers on the other. By what he heard and saw there, he easily perceived on which side truth and true religion was, though at that time, nor until a year or two after, he neither intended to embrace and follow it; and, after he did intend it, a good while passed before he implemented his intention.

As he signified in a letter written in the time of his imprisonment in the Tower to Father Southwell, he resolved to become Catholic long before he could resolve to live as a Catholic, and thereupon he deferred the former until he had the intent and resolute purpose to perform the latter. Being aided by a special grace of God, he made his decision one day while walking alone in the gallery of his castle at Arundel. After a long and great conflict within himself, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, he firmly resolved to become a member of God's church and to frame his life accordingly. Yet he kept the decision a secret acquainting neither his wife nor any other living person with it.

Some few days later he went to London and met his brother, Lord William Howard, to whom he bore a special love, and uncovered his determination to him, though somewhat covertly. He lent his brother a book to read which had been written not long before by Doctor Allen, and which influenced William so efficaciously that he also resolved to be a Catholic.

Today, pilgrims and visitors may still walk the gallery of Arundel Castle which became Philip's 'valley of decision' over four hundred years ago. Among the many mementos and relics of St Philip in the gallery, there can be viewed as well the prayer book of Mary Queen of Scots and the Rosary that she wore to her execution in Fotheringay Castle on 8 February, 1587.

6. The Beginning of his Troubles

Accordingly, Philip and William Howard, after much thought and deliberation, decided to leave England and go to Flanders until times were more favorable. It seems, however, that they did not consider enough the network of spies that kept Elizabeth's Council well informed about the goings and comings on both sides of the English Channel.

Philip and his brother had made a dangerous decision. Those were especially perilous times for all Catholics, but particularly for members of the Catholic nobility, their possible leaders in their struggle to keep the faith. Moreover, since 1570 the year Pope Pius V formally excommunicated Elizabeth, Catholics, no matter how loyal to her, were generally regarded as potential traitors.

The Earl's secretary, Mr John Momford, was already a Catholic and knew about the resolution of the two brothers. The Earl sent Mr Momford to Hull in Yorkshire with orders to embark himself from there to Flanders and meet him there or expect his coming. But before Mr Momford could get a passage, he was apprehended and taken before the Earl of Huntington, then President of York. He could not perform the Earl's command, but was compelled to return to London where he found the Earl not yet gone, but preparing to receive the Queen at Arundel House upon notice given him that she intended before long to visit him for her recreation.

He made a sumptuous banquet for her when she arrived and she seemed very well contented and thanked him for her entertainment there; but not long after she showed little gratitude for it, sending a command that he should not leave his house but remain a prisoner there, commanding also Lord Hunson (who in former times had been the Duke's father's page and now his great enemy) to examine him about his religion because the Queen was suspicious of him; also about Cardinal Allen, and the Queen of Scots, mother of King James. In everything he answered so wisely and warily, that the Lord had no intention of troubling him with any more questions.

But later Sir Christopher Hatton, Captain of the Guard, sent for Mr Momford and asked him very dangerous questions concerning the Earl, the Countess, his wife, and his brother Lord William, as also of himself whether he was a priest or not. To which he answered that he neither knew nor ever heard any hurt of all of those honorable people and that he himself was not a priest, nor worthy of so great a dignity. That night he was closely imprisoned and the next day was examined again on seventeen questions in all of which he cleared himself, the Earl, his wife, and brother from all suspicious crimes as were surmised against them.

The next day Mr Momford was examined a third time, and during his examination, suddenly and unexpectedly, the Queen, the Earl of Leicester and different members of the Council came into the house to hear, as it seems, what he had confessed. Sir Christopher told them about the answers he made to everything but they were not satisfied and cautioned him with threats of racking and other tortures and sent him a prisoner to the Gatehouse where he was kept closely for some months, none being able to go to him or speak to him. After which time he was taken to Whitehall and there again closely examined by the Earl of Leicester, the Lord Hunsdon, Sir Francis Walsingham, Secretary to the Queen, and other members of the Council. Norton, the rack master, was present also and accused him of many things as well as important matters against the Earl and his wife, affirming that he was privy to them all. But by his answers Mr Momford so cleared himself and proved them to be innocent, that within a short time they were all set free. Not long after, Norton for some serious offences was cast into the Tower of London where he died miserably.

7. His Reconciliation to the Church

Because of these troubles the Earl put off his reconciliation with the Church which he earnestly desired but could not do for want of opportunity. So soon after he diligently sought and procured a meeting with Father William Weston of the Society of Jesus well known in England and other countries for his suffering seventeen years imprisonment in the Tower of London, Wisbich and other places for his profession of the Catholic religion.

Father Weston reconciled the Earl with the Church in 1584, from which the Earl said he had such comfort of soul as he had never felt before in all his life, and such good directions for amending and ordering his life, which afterwards greatly helped him. Ever after this time he lived in such a way that he seemed to be changed into another man, taking great care and vigilance over his actions and giving himself to works of religion and devotion. For this purpose he procured the presence of a priest in his own house from whom he could frequently receive Holy Communion, and be present daily at the celebration of Holy Mass, which he himself served with great humility and reverence.

8. Resolution to Leave the Kingdom

This great change in his manner of life was soon remarked and noted by some courtiers and influential men, who thereupon began to suspect him to be what he was indeed, and others who were his enemies undertook to work for his ruin and overthrow. He was informed about them, and believing what he heard, he began to think again of leaving the kingdom and going to France. He thought he might live more safely there and serve God more quietly. Father Walston did all he could to dissuade him from that course, but either his own fear or the persuasions of some other men were more prevailing and he resolved to go.

His decision was made with as much privacy as possible, and he did not acquaint his wife, Ann, who, by some other means got notice of his intentions, and very earnestly desired to go with him. But because she was then with child, and for some other reasons, he, thinking it then not convenient, persuaded her to stay behind, assuring her that afterwards he would take steps for her to follow him.

Because he thought that his enemies would, after his departure, endeavour by slanderous reports, to disgrace him with the people, and because he thought the Queen to have similar suspicions of him, he wrote a long letter to the Queen which he left with his sister, the Lady Margaret Sackville, to be delivered after his arrival in France. He hoped it might appear both to her and all others what were the true causes moving him to undertake his resolution.

Letter to the Queen

May it please your most excellent Majesty:

As the displeasure of a prince is a heavier burden to bear than the hard conceit of a meaner and inferior person, so it is not lawful for any, and less fitting for them to settle an opinion of mistrust before either there appear some cause sufficient to procure it, or there be a fault committed worthy to deserve it. I speak not thus that I doubt of your Majesty's gracious disposition, or that I fear that you will condemn me without just and evident proof. For I know that it agrees with the honour of your estate and I can witness it has been the manner of your proceedings to know the cause before you give the censure and to hear the matter before you condemn the person. I speak with humility that I may receive this favorable and indifferent dealing at your Majesty's hands. Because I am most desirous to conserve your gracious and good opinion, so I am most earnest to remove the impediments that may hinder or withdraw the same. And besides, since many actions which may seem at first glance rash and ill-advised, after ripe and sufficient consideration of the cause, do appear to be just and necessary.

I most humbly beseech Your Most Excellent Majesty to vouchsafe but the reading of this simple writing, and in allowing me this (which is no more than your Majesty's place cloth require you to bestow upon your meanest subjects, and the graciousness of your nature has always moved you to grant to every suitor), your Majesty shall do a thing which is pleasing in the sight of God and honorable in the eyes of your world. You shall take a course which is worthy of yourself and do that justice which appertains to your estate.

To be short, I doubt not that by these means your Majesty shall rest satisfied in seeing the true and full defence of my dealing, and I remain happy being delivered from all fear and suspicion of your displeasure.

Because the course of my former life may in some part express the reason for my present state, I most humbly beseech your Majesty for a favour. I remind you that since my first coming to the court, nine or ten years past at the least, it has been my chief care to perform that which I thought might most content you, and how I have been always ready and ever willing to do you that service, which either duty required at my hands, or the smallness of my ability would permit.

Your.Majesty best knows, and for proof, thereof, I will appeal to no other judge than yourself, though I could justly call a great part of your realm to be witness; and I was so happy for some years, in that it pleased your Majesty to accept my service in gracious part, and to conceive a favorable opinion of all my actions, while I performed the labours, I took comfort. I made myself a stranger to my own house to be a continual waiter upon your Majesty, and liked to live in any sort at the court rather than in the best manner at home. I thought myself happiest when I was nearest to your Majesty, and my time best spent when I bestowed it in doing you service. But at the last, whether the malice of my adversaries by reason of your Majesty's good countenance towards me, did begin to be greater than it was, or their credit with your Majesty for my mishap did grow to be more than in times past it had been, I know not.

But I did find by little and little, your good opinion declined, and your favours, as I thought, somewhat estranged from me. I heard from time to time how your Majesty took exception to many of my actions, and how it pleased you daily in your discourses to portray a hard and evil opinion of me. I saw ever more the hate in your heart and in those who before then you had not favoured. I also saw them win your Majesty's good countenance, which till that time they could by no means obtain. Besides that, they received protection and assistance from your Majesty in all their actions against me, presently after they had offered me wrong, and had become my adversaries.

Soon after, notwithstanding all this, knowing my conscience to be clear, I came at convenient times to do my duty to your Majesty, and though it pleased you at some times to talk with me, yet your Majesty never charged me with the least fault or offence against you. However, those adversaries of mine who barked behind my back, never accused me nor once opened their mouths to my face. I accounted my situation very ill, that I was wrongly accused, but much worse, because at no time was I openly charged, whereby I might have had a just occasion both to have shown my innocence and to have satisfied your Majesty's suspicions.

Firstly, I saw your Majesty gave countenance to my adversaries who sought on purpose to disgrace me, and not many times, in their presence, did you deign so much as to turn your eyes to the place where I stood. Secondly, I found them encouraged in various ways by the help of your favour, but I was unable to defend myself by reason of your displeasure. Lastly I perceived by your Majesty's open disgrace, which all men noted, and by your bitter speech which most knew, that I was generally pointed at as one whom your Majesty did least favour and disgraced, and as a person whom you deeply suspected and specially disliked. I knew that this smoke did betray a fire, and I saw those clouds foretold a storm, so I prepared myself with patience to endure whatever it was the will of God, by means of your Majesty's indignation, to lay upon me, being assured that my faults towards you were none, though my offences towards others were many. Thus I resolved to endure whatever should happen. I continued some months in this deep disgrace without either knowing what was the ground of your Majesty's displeasure or hearing what should be the end of my own misfortunes.

At last I was twice called at your Majesty's command before your council, where many things were objected against me, and some of them were such trifles that they were ridiculous, and could not be justified. Yet, notwithstanding that my innocence did so evidently appear by my answers, that my greatest adversaries cwid not reprove me of the smallest offence or undutifulness towards your Majesty, I was commanded to keep to my house. Wherefore I saw it was so resolved by the court of this dealing that, no matter how clear and manifest my innocence was, my adversaries should receive the triumph of the victory in obtaining what they wanted, and that I should feel the disgrace of my own misfortune in enduring what I in no way deserved. I understood also that my enemies to maintain their designs by some colorful show, feeling they could not justify their accusations by any sufficient proof, procured that your Majesty should send some of your own council four days after my restraint to examine me on new matters, which were of greater weight and importance, but as improbable as the former.

I discharged myself as clearly as in the other accusations, so my innocence did more plainly appear, although my restraint continued. After this last examination, I remained in the same estate fifteen weeks at the least. No man charged me with the least offence, nor any conscience being able to accuse me of the smallest fault. At the last, when either my enemies could not for shame continue any longer their unconscionable proceedings, or that your Majesty was informed by some of my friends, that I had too long endured this punishment, I was restored to my former liberty without hearing any just cause of your Majesty's hard conceit, or any good colour why I was committed, or any shadow of a fault which I might have been touched with.

Therefore, after I had escaped safely those storms and when I was clearly delivered from all my troubles, I began to call to remembrance the heavy sentence which had befallen three of my ancestors who immediately went before me. The first was my great-grandfather who was so free of all suspicion and show of any fault, because they had no colour of matter to bring him to answer, they arraigned him by Act of Parliament, without ever calling upon him to answer. The second, my grandfather, was brought to his trial and condemned for such trifles as amazed the bystanders at that time, and H is ridiculous at this time to hear the same charges. Rather he was so faultless in all respects as the Earl of Southhampton that then was, being one of his greatest enemies, fearing that his innocence may be a means to save his life, told Sir Christopher Hayden, one of his jury, beforehand, that though he saw no other matter weighty enough to condemn him, yet it was sufficient reason to make him plead guilty, since he was an unfit man to live in a Commonwealth. The last, my father, was arraigned according to the law and condemned by his peers. God forbid that I should think but that his triers did what their consciences led them to do.

Yet, give me leave your Majesty, to say this much, howsoever he might unwittingly or unwillingly be drawn into greater danger than he either saw or imagined, all his actions plainly declared, and his greatest enemies must of necessity, plainly confess that he never carried any disloyal thoughts towards your Majesty nor intended any undutiful act towards his country. When I had in this way, considered both fully and thoroughly, the fortune of those three which were in the past, I called to mind my own danger which was present, and I thought H not impossible by the show of this rough beginning, that I might well follow them in their fortune, as I had succeeded them to this place. For I considered the power of my greatest enemies to overthrow me and in my weakness, my inability to defend myself. I could see in my late trouble how narrowly my life was sought, and how easily your Majesty was drawn into a suspicious and hard opinion of my ancestors, and in my past dangers how my innocence was not a sufficient warrant to protect myself.

I know myself, and besides was charged by your council, to be of that same religion which they accounted odious and dangerous to your state. Lastly, but principally, I weighed in what miserable and doubtful safety my soul had remained, if my life had been taken, as was not unlikely, by former trouble, for I protest the greatest burden that rested on my conscience at that time was because I had not lived according to the prescriptions of the rule which I undoubtedly believed in and assuredly presumed to be the truth.

Being somewhat induced by all these reasons, but chiefly moved by this last argument, I thought that not performing my duty to God in a such a way as I knew would please Him best, might be the principal occasion of my late punishment. Therefore I resolved, while I had the opportunity, to take the course which might be sure to save my soul from the danger of shipwreck, although my body was subject to the peril of misfortune. Ever since I followed and pursued this good intention of mine, though I perceived somewhat more danger to my estate, I humbly thank God that I have found a great deal of more quietness in my mind. In this respect I have just occasion to esteem my past troubles as my greatest felicity. For both of them were, though indirectly, the means to lead me to that course, which ever brings perfect quietness, and only procures eternal happiness.

Being resolved to endure any punishment than willingly to depart from the course I had begun, I bent myself wholly as near as I could, to continue in the same without any act that was repugnant to my faith and profession. I was compelled to do many things which might bring peril to me and be an occasion of dislike to your Majesty when on the first day of this parliament, your Majesty with all your nobility was hearing a sermon in the Cathedral Church of Westminster above in the Chancel, I was driven to walk by myself below in one of the aisles. And one day this last Lent when your Majesty was hearing another sermon in your Chapel at Greenwich, I was forced to stay all that while in the Presence Chamber. To be short, when your Majesty went upon any Sunday or Holy Day to your great Closet, I was forced to stay either in the Privy Chamber, or not to wait upon you at ail, or else presently to depart as soon I had brought you to the Chapel. These things and many more I could by no means escape, but only by an open plain discovery of myself in the eye and opinion of all men as the true cause of my refusal, neither could it be long hidden, although for a while it was not generally noted or observed.

Since I saw that of necessity it must shortly be discovered, and with all remembered what a watchful and jealous eye was carried over all those who were known to be 'recusants Catholic' men and women who refused to attend Church of England services and, therefore, calling to mind how all their lodgings were continually searched, and to how great danger they were subject, if a Jesuit or Seminary priest were found within their houses, I began to consider that either I could not serve God in such a way as I had professed, or else I must incur the hazard of greater punishment than I was willing to endure. I stood resolute and unmovable in the first, though it were with danger to life, and did apply my mind to devise what means I could of avoiding the last. I was long debating with myself what course to take. For when I considered in what continual danger I remained here in England both by the established laws and by a new Act lately made, I thought it was the safest way to depart out of the realm, and abide in some other place, where I might live without danger of my conscience, without offence to your Majesty, without this servile abjection to my enemies, and without the daily peril of my life.

Yet I was drawn by forceful persuasions to be of another opinion, as I could not easily resolve on which part to ground and settle my determination. On the one side were my native country, my friends, my wife and my kinsfolk who did invite me to stay. On the other side, the misfortunes of my house, the power of my adversaries, the remembrance of my former troubles, and the knowledge of my present danger - these hastened me to go. In the end I found no middle course but I must venture to live in extreme poverty abroad, nor to be sure to remain in continual danger at home. I regarded more the hazard of my life, wherein stood the peril of my estate, and I rather sought the preservation of my life than the profit of my living. Therefore, after I had weighed as many dangers as I could remember, and was persuaded that to depart the realm was the safest way I could take, I resolved to take the benefit of a happy wind to avoid the violence of a bitter storm, and knew that the dealing of those who go beyond the seas though their intent be never so good and dutiful, were yet thought of evilly.

I presumed to write this letter to your Majesty, and in it to declare the true causes and reasons of my departure, both to remove all occasions of doubt and suspicion from your Majesty, which otherwise this sudden departure of mine might procure. Also, to settle as much as lies in me your good and gracious opinion of me, which, as I have been most desirous to enjoy, so I will be most willing to deserve, because my adversaries may take this as a fit opportunity to betray their malice, and kindle your Majesty's indignation against me, I most humbly beseech your Majesty to ask such as you think do hate me most, whether being of that religion which I do profess, and standing every way in the state and condition wherein I did remain, they would not have taken that course for safety of their souls, and discharge of their consciences which I did. Either they must directly tell you that they would have done the same, or acknowledge themselves plainly to be mere atheists, which however they be affected in their hearts, I think they would be loath to confess with their mouths. When they have satisfied your Majesty on this point which is the first, I beseech you to ask them about the second, which is the last. Ask them whether having had their house so fatally and so successively touched, and finding themselves to be of that religion which is accounted dangerous and odious to the present State, whether having been hardly handled, long restrained, and openly disgraced heretofore for nothing, and might now be drawn for their consciences into great and continual danger, what they would have done in the situation of having some mortal and professed enemies, in closest credit with your Majesty, and standing suspected in your Majesty's opinion both in respect of their father who was taken away in your Majesty's time, and of themselves who have been since wronged and injured in many ways, and besides being of that religion which your Majesty does detest and of which you are most suspicious.

To be short, ask them what they would have done had one of their ancestors been taken away without shadow of any fault, but only for this cause that he was thought to be an unfit man to live in a Commonwealth at that time, and knowing themselves to be so reputed at this time as those who do bear the most sway in her Majesty's government; lastly, whether not being able to do any act or duty whereunto their religion did bind them without incurring the danger of felony by a new Act now lately made, they would have departed out of the realm, as I have done, or not. Either they must say that they would joyfully run upon their own death headlong, which is in my opinion, repugnant to the Law of God and contrary to the Law of Nature, and flatly against their own conscience, or else they must acknowledge they would have sought the same means which I have used for escaping those perils. Then I hope your Majesty will not hardly conceive of this my dealing, which my mortal enemies, if they speak not contrary to the truth and reason, must needs confess to be just and fitting. Besides, to confirm your Majesty's opinion of my innocence in this matter, you may best remember how I might have departed long before this time, if I had been guilty of any crime, and that I have stood to your uttermost-trial and examination of all my dealings, though I have tasted all times since my last restraint your hard opinion and public disgrace both daily and hourly without any hope or likelihood of ever recovering your good opinion. If my protestation, who never told your Majesty an untruth, may carry any credit in your opinion, I here call God and His angels to witness, that I would not have taken this course, if I might have stayed in England without danger of my soul and peril of my life. As it is the true token of a noble mind, and has always been noted as a certain argument of your Majesty's gracious disposition, in that it has ever pleased you to take pity on those who are in misery, and to respect with the eyes of your favour all afflicted persons, so I cannot be brought any way to fear your Majesty will make me the first example of your severe and rigorous dealing, in laying your displeasure upon me who am faced to forsake my country, to forget my friends, to leave my living, and to lose the hope of all worldly pleasures and earthly commodities, if either I will not consent to the certain destruction of my body, or willingly yield to your manifest endangering of my soul. The least of which are so intolerable in any Christian man to endure, as I hope it cannot be thought any undutifulness in me if I seek any good and lawful means to avoid so great an inconvenience. Though the loss of temporal commodities be so grievous to flesh and blood, I could not desire to live if I were not comforted with the remembrance for His mercy, for whom I endure all this, who endured ten thousand times more for me, yet i ensure your Majesty that your displeasure should be more unpleasant to me than the bitterness of all my other losses, and a greater grief than my greatest misfortunes are besides.

Therefore, remaining in assured hope, that I and my cause shall receive that favour, conceit and rightful constructions at your Majesty's hands, which I may justly challenge, both because the trial of my good dealings has sufficiently deserved the same, and also for the confession of my mortal enemies at this time must needs acknowledge my innocence herein. I do humbly crave pardon for my long and tedious letter which the weightiness of the matter forced upon me, and I beseech God from the bottom of my heart to send your Majesty as great happiness as I wish to my own soul."

9. Capture and Commitment to the Tower

The Earl having written this letter, and provided all necessary for his voyage, had a ship hired secretly in which he had intended to have gone from a private Port in Sussex or Hampshire. He took only two servants with him. He went towards the place where the ship was twice to have embarked, but was forced to return because the winds were contrary and the ship could not leave the harbour, at least this is how things were explained to him. But it was more probable that this was an excuse used by the Master of the ship or some other person by which he was betrayed to cause delay until all things were in readiness for his capture at sea and bringing him back again: because at that very time, as was well known, other ships left from Ports not very far away, and had both wind and weather favorable enough to get them to Calais and other parts of France.

Finally when the ship's Master did signify that everything was all right to travel, he went to the Port, embarked and that night put out to sea. After a while the ship's Captain flung out a light for a sign, the ship was boarded and stayed by a Captain of a little ship of war who pretended to be a pirate. His name was Keloway. Since he was well known by the Earl and his friends because of being notorious for his infamous life, they therefore had no reason, as they said, to suspect that he was employed by public authority for the stopping and taking of them. This Keloway (or whoever it was that assumed his name) offered to let the Earl and his two friends pass free for one hundred pounds in money, swearing he should let them immediately go on safely to France if the Earl would write a word or two to any friend of his who might receive it. So the Earl not suspecting a trick, wrote a few lines to his sister, Lady Margaret Sackville that she should tell Mr Bridges, alias Grately, a priest, to give one hundred pounds to the bearer thereof. As soon as Keloway got this letter from the Earl and read it, he immediately announced that he had been appointed by the Council to watch there for him and bring him back to land, as he did immediately with full speed.

The Earl was not daunted by this so unexpected incident, but took it with patience and courage and remained in good spirits. His money and all those things he had with him, jewels and the like, were immediately seized upon and the Earl himself taken under strong guard towards London by Sir George Cary, son and heir of Lord Hunsden, then Chamberlain to the Queen. One night on the way he stayed at Guildford in Surrey, where he met the Innkeeper who had once been his servant, and others who wished him well. They were concerned and worried by his misfortune but he comforted them all because as he said he had committed no crime or treason or the like, but was only attempting to leave the kingdom for his own safety, and to free himself from the danger of his enemies permitted by both God and nature. The next day he was taken to London and made a prisoner in the Tower. It was the 25th April, 1585. His brother, Lord William, and his sister Lady Margaret were not long after committed to prison, which was a great grief to the Earl, which he expressed in a letter to his wife.

10 His Examination in the Star Chamber

Soon after his imprisonment he was twice examined in the Tower by some of the Council who were sent there especially by the Queen. On May Day he was first examined by Sir Christopher Hatton and others; Sir Christopher was Vice Chamberlain and a member of the Privy Council. He waited back after the others had gone, and told the Earl that if he loved his life not to conceal any of those things which were already known, that he and his brother, Lord William, had sent to Doctor Allen that they had attempted to go over seas, that they had heard from, and offered to be directed by him, that Mr Bridges, the priest, was the messenger who was asked by Doctor Allen to deliver messages to them both, and came to them by the name of Grately with various other circumstances which were all true. For Mr Bridges had out of confidence told all these things to a Mr Gilbert Gifford, a priest who was then living in Paris, and was discovered to be a spy who gave information of these and all other things he came to know to some of the Council. He told them also that Mr Henry Dun, a gentleman of his acquaintance, who was then a servant to Sir Christopher Hatton, had confessed everything after questioning. Sir Christopher told all this to the Earl out of good will, promising him if he would set it all down plainly he would do his best to save him from danger. Otherwise the very denial itself would cast more danger upon him than all his friends living could save him from. So the Earl, after many thanks for his great love and friendship, declared plainly everything as it was, and the reason why he had sent to Doctor Allen, thus clearing his brother, the Lord William, of all things except only his attempt to have gone overseas with him the first time he had intended to go.

The next time that the Council came to examine him they often asked what he would have done overseas: his answer was that he would have served in any place that Doctor Allen thought fit for him, if it had been for the Catholic cause. They asked again whether he would have done anything against the Queen or the State of the Realm. He said no, not for the world. They asked then if the title Duke of Norfolk had been offered him, or if Doctor Allen had written to him by that Title. He answered never.

At this stage of the questioning they produced a letter, alleged to have been written by him. That letter was doubtlessly forged by some of his enemies who intended to bring about his death and destruction. It was first brought to light, as he afterwards understood, by Sir Francis Walsingham, the Queen's secretary, or by one of Walsingham's great friends or informants, and was pretended to have been intercepted at the very time of his going to sea; by which it was clear to have been forged by some who had information beforehand of his leaving the country, which the secretary and some others of his greatest enemies had even from the beginning. But most of the Council could never have ascertained either where or how it was produced, because of this the best of them thought it to be a forged thing, as indeed it evidently appeared to be by some things contained in it, which showed that the writer had in truth small knowledge or acquaintance with the Earl's affairs. And therefore they neither thought it convenient ever to arraign him there upon as some of the Council had threatened; nor not long after when he was brought into the Star Chamber where all that could be alleged against him was brought up and exaggerated to the utmost, this letter was never mentioned.

The principal points brought against him were his attempt to leave the Kingdom without licence from the Queen, his reconciliation to the Church of Rome and a certain piece of writing by his servant Burlacy wherein something was mentioned about his being made Duke of Norfolk. To the latter the Earl protested that Burlacy never told him anything about such thing, and he had never heard of it until the present time when it was being alleged against him. His correspondence with Doctor Allen was also brought up. As for being reconciled, he acknowledged that he had confessed his sins to a priest and had been absolved by him which he said, all would know that he was a Catholic. Concerning his writing to Doctor Allen, he answered as he had done before when examined by the Council on the matter. As for his attempting to leave the Kingdom, he stated the reasons which he had set down in his letter to the Queen, and were well known to the Council and many more, because Mr Bridges soon after his own capture had published it among the Catholics, though without any authority from him, even against his will. Finally he gave such answers to everything objected against him, and conducted himself so discreetly and with such cheerfulness and alacrity that he received that day great credit and a good reputation not only for himself and his cause, though he was then fined by that Court ten thousand pounds payable to the Queen, and was sentenced to imprisonment during her pleasure.

11 The Strictness of his Imprisonment

For the most part of its time Philip's imprisonment was very strict. Besides the Lieutenant of the Tower who had charge of him, there was always some gentleman of standing appointed by the Queen to be his keeper. He was so closely watched by this gentleman that for several years he could not speak with any one whatsoever but within his presence and hearing. During the first thirteen months of his commitment, that is from April, 1585, till the end of May, 1586, he had no servants of his own to attend him and did not leave his Chamber to walk in any other room or to take a little air in the garden, except either his keeper or the Lieutenant or both were with him.

After that time he was permitted to have sometimes one, sometimes two of his servants with him, but on condition after entering the Tower, they remained as prisoners. They could neither leave the Tower without special permission of the Council, nor so much as walk in the garden nor into another room except their Lord's Lodgings, but at such times and with such persons as it pleased the keeper to appoint. The rest of the night and day they were locked up and could not speak with anyone. Further, by the uncomfortableness of the room in which they were locked up with their Lord. It had no sight of the sun for the greatest part of the year and, because of the noisomeness of a vault, near or under it, which smelt so ill at times that the keeper could scarcely endure to enter it, much less stay there any length of time; so all of his servants were soon weary of being with him there and soon sought permission to be dismissed. Other servants were kept there so long under such conditions that through weakness and illness they were scarcely able to do him any service, at least not as much as his necessities required when he himself fell prey to the sicknesses and diseases which were caused by the manner of his imprisonment.

Neither were these infirmities nor sicknesses, though many and great, nor his imprisonment so long and strict, as grievous and troublesome as other things he suffered there. Firstly, it was the hard and harsh treatment of the Lieutenant who did all he could to afflict and vex him. Of this Philip himself later wrote to a friend: His injuries to me by himself and trusty Roger are intolerable, infinite, daily multiplied, and to those who know him not, incredible; the most you can imagine, will be far inferior, I think, to the truth when you hear it.

Secondly, it was the bad disposition of some of his keepers, who besides their strictness towards him, went about to entrap him, had he not been wary and circumspect, but who did sometimes report things about him that were not only wholly false, but might have been and perhaps were of great prejudice to him. It was reported that he never spoke one good word of the Queen whereas on all occasions he spoke with great respect about her, and protested many times in his keepers' hearing that he was always ready to do any lawful thing to be of service to her and to her happiness. One of his keepers who made great show of his friendship towards him, would often ask him what he would do if the Pope should excommunicate the Queen or make war against her. If Philip remained silent on these matters, or passed them off by talking of something else, not answering the questions directly, yet always professing his loyalty and duty to the Queen; often he noticed that on the next day his keeper would send letters to the Court -letters, he was sure, prejudicial to himself, or as the old chronicler expresses it: Yet he could not but fear there was no good meaning nor dealing therein.

12 Calumnies during the Imprisonment

Besides the injuries received from his keepers and the Lieutenant of the Tower, the ingratitude and treachery of some who had been his servants in former times and had received great benefits from him, together with the unkind dealing of some who were very near in blood to him was no small occasion of affliction to his mind. The Duke, his father, had made such a kind of conveyance of the greatest part of his estate that it could not be forfeited by attainder, as de facto it was not by his own, but came safely to the Earl his son; some who knew the particulars of his estate better than others as having been employed in his affairs, did not only upon his attainder treacherously discover all they could to his detriment, but moreover pursued the suit in the Queen's behalf in such manner against him, that a good part of his lands was thereby lost which otherwise would have been saved. His own brother also, the Lord Thomas Howard, made an approach to the Queen immediately after his attainder to obtain for his own use and benefit the diverse Lordships which belonged to him, which some others who were strangers to him (in particular Sir Christopher Hatton) out of friendship and honorable respect would not accept, when they were offered to them by the Queen herself without any motion at all from themselves.

Another of his afflictions proceeded from the malice of some about the court who did their utmost to endeavour not only to incense the Queen against him, but to defame and disgrace him with the world at large, also to have wrought his death, ruin and destruction. They gained access to the Queen to show that he made himself a Catholic, or rather made show to be such, not out of any religion, but only to oppose himself to her and to show a dislike of herself and her government. His Lady, his wife, at the beginning of his troubles, going to the Queen to intercede for him, was berated exceedingly by Sir Francis Knowles, then Privy Councillor, asking her if she and her husband were not ashamed to make themselves Papists, doing so only out of spleen and peevish humour to cross and vex the Queen. Likewise they endeavored to persuade the world against him by publishing that he was of no religion, and to make it more probable, they brought one who in the public court at Westminster took a solemn oath that he heard a Catholic priest say that the Earl of Arundel had so small regard of religion that he would not stay to hear Mass in the morning and would go in the afternoon to a Protestant sermon.

This calumny was so divulged that some of his keepers told him how very many in the Kingdom were of the opinion that he made show to be a Catholic only out of policy. To them, in great mildness, he made this reply: God alone knows the secrets of men's hearts, and he thought there was final decision for a man who would lose his liberty, risk his estate and If e and live in such a manner in a prison as he then did.

Moreover, to move the Queen against him and make an abridgment of the little liberty which, after many suits, he had obtained from the Council to go out of his own lodging in the company of his keepers to walk sometimes a little in a certain gallery within the Tower, they informed her that many salutations and knee-bending and curtesies were made to him when he stood in the gallery window. These were so wholly false as he protested in a letter to the Lieutenant Chancellor, that he neither ever saluted anyone, nor anyone made the least show towards him in that place; but, it was true that in walking one day in the garden with the keeper, one person from the head of the Salt tower saluted him with a very low reverence. Whereat he marvelled and desired his keeper to talk to the man who had custody of the Tower and charge him that he might no more be so abused. Yet four or five days later, the same man, in the same place, not content with an ordinary salutation nor reverence, bowed himself so low that his head was within a foot of the ground, and then lifting his hands, he remained in that posture looking directly into the face of the Earl and his keeper, while they walked the whole length of the alley. They were troubled at seeing this, and to avoid it they presently went into another part of the garden. But immediately the man removed himself also to the other side of the paths which were nearest to the place where they were, and there used the same procedure as before. This made the Earl think that either the man was mad or was sent there to mock him, or for a reason to raise that report which was made to the Queen of his being saluted with curtesies to hinder the little liberty he had obtained from the Council.

Not without cause he might suspect that it was done on set purpose to molest and abuse him, seeing by experience that he found far greater and worse things to have been done of set purpose against him. Besides the forging of the Letter mentioned above, which was before his coming to the Tower, after his coming, they slandered him first. A certain Catholic gentlewoman (Mrs Albridge, afterwards married to Dr Lodge) with whom I (the chronicler) was acquainted and whose husband was a dependent of Sir Francis Walsingham, then Secretary, and had been his spy at Rome and other places diverse years ago, gave notice to his Lady thereof upon pretence she might make some secret order. Otherwise the matter would be brought to light and she and her Lord would be disgraced. But out of her assurance of his innocence and surmising it to be some plot of his enemies which it was, to disgrace him and afflict her, she gave such answer to the gentlewoman whose simplicity was abused therein, that she remained much ashamed to have been so ever credulous in such a business, which, upon a little examination, appeared not only improbable, but all together impossible, considering both the strict imprisonment of the Earl, he never went out of his chamber without either his keeper or the Lieutenant or both of them with him, nor any coming into in it but in their presence, and with their consent. Also his sickness and infirmity at that very time made it an untrue accusation.

This calumny did not succeed as being too palpably a falsehood, they went about defaming him of intemperance in drinking, a vice which was very remote from him as all those who waited on him at table could testify. Between his meals he never used to drink at all, and at his meals was always very moderate. All the grounds they had for raising this report was that he used for a time, to drink three times a week some methaglyn in the morning to comfort his weak stomach. Other such slanders they raised against him several times, and they were so many, that in a letter to a friend he did say it seemed to him like Hydra's heads: no sooner did one fall but more were raised in place of it. So many traps were daily laid to ensnare him, that had he not been very wary and circumspect, he would have been brought often into great danger.

13. The Manner of his Further Downfall

Though his wariness was very great to keep himself from either doing or saying anything that might be occasion of any danger to him, yet he was at length brought into it by means of some Catholics, then prisoners in the Tower, whose weakness was therein abused by his enemies. These were Sir Thomas Gerard, a knight of good worth in Lancashire, one Mr Shelley, a Sussex gentleman, and Mr William Bennet, an old priest of Queen Mary's days, who had conformed for a time to Queen Elizabeth's Church, but, because he was afterwards reconciled to the Catholic Church, he so much thereby incurred the displeasure of the State, that he was therefore committed prisoner to the Tower, where he was placed in a chamber not far from the lodgings of the Earl, who having at that time, which was about the beginning of the year 1588 and three years after his commitment, much more liberty than ever he had before or after, and desiring to meet and speak with him for the comfort of his own soul, found means to bring it to effect by mediation of the Lieutenant's daughter who had thirty pound given her by the Earl's wife, (as she herself told the chronicler) for her endeavour in procuring this. The permission being first obtained, he used such diligence afterwards that he also got church materials and all things required for the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass which he did serve with great humility, and he received the Blessed Sacrament frequently as long as that liberty did last. During this time he also met with Sir Thomas Gerard both at Mass and at other times, and also with Mr Shelley, though not so frequently.

There was much talk about that time of the great Spanish fleet which was then in preparation. Whereupon, it happened that the Earl in his discourses with them, manifested much affection for the King of Spain, not only in regard for the obligation and duty he bore unto him as being his godfather, but also because in those times and for diverse years, he was the chief defender and maintainer of the Catholic religion. Because of this a rumour was very current about the Catholics in London: a sudden massacre of them all was intended upon the first landing of the Spaniards. When this came to the Earl's ear, out of his piety, he judged it necessary that all Catholics should forthwith apply themselves to prayer, either for the avoiding of that danger, or for better preparing themselves for it. To the end it might be done more orderly and efficaciously, he both persuaded the above mentioned with whom he spoke to make prayer for four and twenty hours together for that purpose, and also sent to some others to the same purpose. Then one gentleman of greater experience and prudence than the rest signified to him that perhaps it might be otherwise interpreted by the state, than he intended, and wished him therefore to desist, as presently thereupon he did, but when it was too late. For some of his enemies, having got intelligence thereof, took occasion to conceive all that prayer to be made and meant by him for the good success of the Spanish fleet, and afterwards induced both Mr Shelly and Sir Thomas Gerard, either through fear or fair promise, to testify the same against him, as also Mr Bennet to confess how he had entreated him to say a Mass of the Holy Ghost for the same reason.

14 Further Examination about Loyalty

After the fear of the Spanish fleet was well past, towards the end of the year 1588, the Earl was again committed to close custody, and twice examined by some of the council who were purposely sent by the Queen to that end to the Tower. The first time was by Sir Christopher Hatton, then Lord Chancellor, and Sir Thomas Henage who had ever been a great enemy of his. They examined first about his desiring Mr Bennet to say Mass for the success of the Spaniards, and of making the prayer of twenty-four hours for the same purpose: to both of these he answered negatively. He said he hoped their lordships did not think him of so bad a conscience as to go with such a mind to Mass, and to receive the Blessed Sacrament as he usually did then. Lastly they charged him with burning certain papers at Mass time, which they affirmed to contain matters of great importance and intelligence, and, moreover, that he determined to get the strongest place in the Tower for his defence against the coming of the Spaniards. He answered so fully to both these charges that they were never afterwards alleged against him, neither at his arraignment nor in his second examination. For he asserted that the papers contained nothing but his confession, and matters concerning his conscience; and to the other accusation, because it was said that a massacre was intended to be arranged, he had asked the approval of Sir Thomas Gerard, who told him the lodgings where he lay were the best for their defence, as having in them some gun stones, and other weapons which he showed him.

For his second examination besides those three which came before, the Lord Hunsdon was also sent by the Queen. Therein after the first three points objected in his first examination, the, added that he should say: 'Cardinal Allen had the disposition of the Crown'. Whereto the party to whom it was spoken would answer 'that was a purple word'. Since he answered negatively to all of this, Mr Bennet and Sir Thomas Gerard were immediately brought forward to affirm before his face, the charge of the Mass and the twenty four hours of prayer. He was enjoined not to speak at all nor make any answer to them. This was done as he had planned and he signified to a friend, only to embolden them against the time they would come to the bar against him. After their departure he was bid to say what he would; but, because he judged that offer was made insincerely and only made out of a policy to know his answers beforehand, that so his accusers and adversaries might be the better prepared to make response at the time of his arraignment, he therefore, contained himself and made no answer at all.

Whereupon the Treasurer abruptly asked him whether he would declare him a traitor who would say the Pope had any authority to depose the Queen. His answer was that he had never heard anyone say so, and when he did, his Lordship would hear what he would say. The Treasurer urged him twice or thrice to answer precisely. The same was done by the Lord Chamberlain to whom he said that he wondered why he should be asked such questions, seeing he was accused of no such matter, and had been and was at all times ready to serve the Queen with his life and goods against any prince or potentate whatsoever. The Lord Chamberlain replied: 'What about the Pope?' He answered whether the Pope was not included within the name of a foreign prince or potentate?

He signified in a letter to a friend that he knew he might have safely answered affirmatively to the question, but because he saw them determined to take his life, as he then thought, and knew not how they would misreport his words, for fear of giving scandal, he would not answer directly. Then one of the examiners said that the Pope was an errant knave; another called him a wild Italian priest. The Lord Chamberlain entered into a passion and called the Earl a beast and traitor, and said that if he would not be hanged within four days, that he himself would hang him, repeating it once or twice. The Earl replied that the sooner the better if it pleased God. The Chamberlain should know he did not fear his threats. When the said Chamberlain urged him to set down under his hand what he would not answer to the question of the Pope's power to depose the Queen, he flatly denied to do it, as a thing in no way belonging or pertaining to him. The Treasurer said it was no wonder he was so settled in religion, because he did read nothing to the contrary. He answered resolutely that he neither did nor would do by his Lordship's favour. Therewith they all rose, left him and went their way.

15 His Arraignment and Condemnation

Not long after these examinations he was brought from the Tower to the King's Bench Court in the Hall of Westminster, and there publicly arraigned about these points on the 14th day of April 1589. In the meantime it so happened that Mr Bennet, the priest who was one his accusers, having been removed from the Tower and being a prisoner in the Counter of Wood Street in London, having remorse of conscience for what he had already done, wrote this following letter to him, and by means of a Catholic prisoner in the same Counter, got it sent to the Earl's wife. The Superscription was in this manner:

To the Right Honourable the Earl of Arundel be these delivered:

Right Honourable and Most Noble Peer. I most humbly upon my knees before God and all his angels, and before all the world, if need require, with a most penitent, rent and afflicted conscience and heart, crave mercy and forgiveness for the great offence I have committed against your Honour in my last troubles and confessions. Right Honourable Peer, I was called upon to answer questions about certain supposed offences in the Tower. Since my answers were not satisfactory, a letter of mine was produced in which I defended my jurisdiction to a priest who had called it into question. In this letter I asserted that I had derived my authority from the Apostolic See. I was, therefore, accounted and termed a dead man amongst them without her Majesty's special pardon which was promised upon condition etc paupa sapienti.

I was given many fair promises and allurements together with many thundering threats of returning to the Tower, torments and death itself, if I failed. By this unexpected letter of mine, along with threats mingled with promises of life and speedy liberty, together with great weakness both of body and mind by reason of my long and sore imprisonment, I was shaken into such an astonishment and maze, that I confessed everything that seemed to content their humour, which I perceived not at the first altogether to tend to the ruin of your Honour. But, being demanded whether you did send a note to the priests in Coleharbour to pray for the general success of the Spanish Fleet, I answered that the truth was that I never knew, or was privy to any such note. Yet with a guilty, fearful, unjust and most tormented conscience only for saving of my life and liberty I confessed that you moved me to say a Mass of the Holy Ghost for the good success of the Spanish fleet. For which unjust confession, or rather accusation, I do again and again, and to my life's end most instantly crave God's pardon and yours, and for my better satisfaction of this my unjust suggestion, I will if need require, offer up both life and limbs in averring my accusation to be, as it is indeed, and as I shall answer before Almighty God, before the face of angels and men, most unjust, and done only in fear of the Tower, torments and death. Thus not doubting of your Honour's gracious pardon and forgiveness, I will rest my poor afflicted conscience in only God's mercy. My body and life I freely offer to the world to dispose as it shall please God. The Holy Trinity preserve your Honour from peril of soul and body. Amen.

Your Honour's Most Obedient,

William Bennet, Priest.

This letter was included and sent sealed in another of a different hand without name or date, endorsed thus:

To the Right Honourable, the Countess of Arundel these be added:

The contents as follows:

My duty (Right Honourable and very good Lady) considered: these are to advertise your Ladyship, that whereas my Lord, your Husband, has been wrongly accused by one who heartily repents himself thereof, hath here as I take it, both acknowledged this fault. and craved pardon for the same. I thought it a part of Christian charity (though I am utterly unknown both to your Lord and yourself) to convey them to your honour close sealed, hoping that they will be some testimony of your Honour's innocence. Charging your Honour as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgment (pardon me good Madam I beseech you) not to accept of them, except you resolve never to show them till your said husband come in question. And thus hoping to find that expectation of honour and virtue which is esteemed to be in your honour, I do most humbly take my leave, committing your Honour to God's merciful tuition.

At the Earl's arraignment both Sir Thomas Gerard and Mr Bennet were brought in perforce to give evidence against him. The one was that he required a Mass of the Holy Ghost to be said for the success of the Spaniards, the other that the prayer of twenty four hours was directed to the same end. Both of these the Earl denied very stoutly and constantly, pleading the above mentioned letter of Mr Bennet against his testimony in such manner, and that he (Mr Bennet) not being able to deny it, some of the Lords there present told him he was a false man and no lawful witness. Many other things were objected and exaggerated against the Earl by the Queen's Council, to all of which he answered so resolutely and readily, that most there present were of the opinion he would have been acquitted by the noblemen, his peers, but it proved far otherwise. For he was condemned of High Treason, and accordingly had sentence pronounced against him; the which he heard not only without being daunted therewith by anything at all, but showing, moreover, such a cheerfulness in his looks and inward innocence and quiet of mind.

16 What Philip Did after Condemnation

The day after his condemnation he wrote and dispatched the following letter to the Lord Chancellor.

My special good Lord, I am most heartily sorry that I was so prevented by my hasty departure from the Bar, as soon as sentence was pronounced upon me, that I had no time and no opportunity to make humble plea for Her Majesty's favour. I am very glad that I have this opportunity of writing to your Lordship humbly to petition Her Majesty on my behalf for her gracious favour, combined with my most hearty grief for anything wherein I have offended Her Highness in all the course of my life. Also to give your Lordship humble thanks for your honorable goodness always shown towards me, and to become a most earnest suitor for its continuance towards my wife and children. As a man dead to this world and in all good will whilst I live towards your most affectionate Lordship, I humbly take my leave, beseeching God send you all honour and happiness in this world to his honour and glory, and to my poor soul a joyful meeting with Yours in heaven. The day after my condemnation,

your Lordship's most humble servant,

at your command to my death,

Philip Howard."

But, in another letter to Father Southwell, he declared that his meaning in the words of the above letter in which he acknowledged a hearty grief for having offended the Queen, was not for any of those things for which he had been arraigned, but referred to the long time that he had waited upon her during which he could have offended her in many ways, and was then desirous to ask pardon of the lowest person living so as to be better prepared for death which he daily expected, and he thought it fitting to do so to the Queen. He also declared the same sentiments towards the gentleman who was then his keeper in the Tower, adding moreover that he would never make submission or beg pardon for anything

about which he had been arraigned, considering he had therein committed no fault, and would never belie himself.

To the same effect he then also wrote a letter to the Queen herself protesting his innocence, which was not then delivered to her because the Lord Chancellor considered that it would rather incense her against him, than otherwise. He resolved also that if he should be put to death publicly, to declare himself innocent and faultless therein. And because Catholics were sometimes not permitted to say anything to clear themselves, he therefore provided written testimony in which he declared his true state of mind. He wrote personally several copies both in English and Latin, intending at his execution to throw them among the people in case he was not permitted to speak.

Their form was as follow .

Seeing that Almighty God has vouchsafed in His infinite goodness to call me, the lowest and most unworthy of His servants, I confess the great honour of bearing witness to the Catholic faith and the Roman Church. Therefore I thought it fit in order to prevent all sinister practices, which might be used either to disgrace my faith or discredit myself, to testify in writing as well as possible, that I am ready to seal it with my blood, by the grace and assistance of God, whenever need and occasion shall require: that neither the innocence of my mind, nor the integrity of my actions should be defaced by the untrue suggestions of others (as it often happens to men in my situation) nor my firm resolution in the Catholic and Roman faith should be perverted by the false reports of evilly disposed persons.

For, although I must acknowledge myself to be a most frail and heinous sinner, yet I am bound to confess the faith of a Catholic (which next to God I hold in greatest price and account which every faithful Christian ought to esteem above everything else) I therefore earnestly desire that all men should take me for such a one, as in truth I am, and that no man should be either misled or beguiled by malicious and untrue reports to think otherwise of me than both my words and deeds plainly testify. Wherefore, for the satisfaction of all men and to discharge my conscience before God, I here protest before His Divine Majesty and all the Holy Court of Heaven, that I have committed no treason, and that the Catholic and Roman faith that I hold, is the only cause (as far as I can imagine) why either I have thus been imprisoned or for which I am now ready to be executed.-And I do most firmly, resolutely and unmovably hold and believe this One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Faith. And I will die in the same as I am most ready at all times, if need be, to yield my life in defence of it. And whatsoever the Council of Trent has established about faith and works, I believe and hold. And whatever it has condemned, I condemn within my soul, and renounce here in writing, and abjure from the bottom of my heart. And I do most earnestly desire that all Catholics conceive this opinion of me, and take me so, as I have here protested myself to be, and not credit any untrue reports that have, may, or shall be spread of me to the contrary; for as Christ is life to me, I so account death a most happy and glorious gain unto me in defence of His faith and for His holy name.

And thus I will conclude with beseeching Almighty God the Father of Mercies, and God of all consolation, to grant peace to His Church, charity and grace to my enemies, salvation and happiness to the Queen and Realm, and to me as an untimely fruit (being born before my time) and the lowest of all His servants a constant perseverance in His holy faith and the love of his Divine Majesty. Amen.

By me, a most humble and obedient child

of the Catholic Roman Church.

Philip Howard."

Philip told the substance of this letter to his keeper in the Tower, as he later informed Father Southwell in a private letter. He intended that at his death he would protest that he died only for religion, and was wholly guiltless of any true crime against the Queen. And when the keeper asked him whether he had a Mass said for the success of the Spaniards what would he reply. His answer was that he would deny it as he did in his examination and arraignment. The keeper replied that he thought a man at the time of his death would speak as before God. Philip answered that a man who fears God would do the same in any place and since he had denied it in a place of open justice the keeper had no cause to doubt that he would deny it at his death because he was not guilty. After this conversation the keeper informed the Lord Chamberlain and some other members of the Council, who, then, it would seem, persuaded the Queen that he might not be put to death. Other Councillors were well disposed towards him, including the Chancellor and the Treasurer, despite the opposition that came from others who were his enemies. But whether it was upon the advice of Councillors favorable to him or from some completely other reason, the Queen deferred his execution and in the end resolved to spare his life; yet he was not informed of it for a long time, rather the death penalty was at various times insinuated; so it came to pass that he was in continual expectation of death and making preparation for it very carefully over the years. For though he lived very religiously after his commitment to the Tower, and spent much time in prayer and devotion, yet after his condemnation he followed a most regular pattern in Christian living

17 The Manner of his Life in the Tower

After being committed to the Tower, Philip spent about two hours in prayer every morning, and an hour and a quarter in the afternoon, and a quarter of an hour before bed, examining his conscience and committing himself to Almighty God.

Later he added the recitation of the Divine Office to his customary devotions, an addition, which his doctors some time before his death, advised him to relinquish because of his increasing weakness. It has been estimated that Philip spent about nine hours a day in prayer and meditation. The remainder of his time was spent in a little exercise such as walking within limited precincts, but mostly on writing or translating religious books.

One Book of Lanspergious containing an epistle of Jesus Christ to the faithful souls he translated from Latin to English and had it printed for the furtherance of devotion. He wrote also three treatises on The Excellence And Utilities Of Virtue which never came to light because he feared to send them away, fearing a search for them before they were fully perfected and polished.

He used to read the spiritual books of Father Louis de Granada very frequently; and at other times the Works of St Jerome and other Ancient Fathers; as also old historiographers, particularly Eusebius, in which, as he pointed out to Father Southwell, he found great comfort for the confirmation of his faith, by reading in them the state of the Church in its infancy. On Sundays and feasts he used to read some part of Holy Scripture with special reverence and humility.

In the year 1588, soon after his second commitment to close prison, he began to fast three days every week, On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, eating neither meat nor fish. But finding by experience that his health was not able to stand so much he made alterations: one meal on Mondays was of meat, on Wednesdays of fish, on Fridays of neither meat nor fish, and abstaining also from poultry and wine. He kept up this rigorous fasting until his doctors advised him to change his diet, and that was not long before his death. Many times also, he used the same abstinence on Thursdays and Mondays with only one meal of meat.

On special days he abstained wholly from all kinds of sustenance of either food or drink. These were the vigils of the Feasts of Corpus Christi, of the Ascension of Our Saviour, and of all Saints, and also the eves of the feasts of the Blessed Virgin, to whom he was particularly devoted. Yet he did all this in such a way that no one knew of it excepting one gentleman, his servant, who later on revealed the extent of his abstinence. For on his fast days, as soon as his dinner was brought in, the rest of his own and the lieutenant's servants were sent out and the door shut. Then he asked the remaining servant to eat and drink the same quantity that he himself usually did on other fasting days. This being done, and the door opened again, the other servants came in to take away the remains as they did at other times without even noticing anything at all because they saw his trenchers empty and his napkin folded, and as much food eaten as on other days.

He rose at five o'clock every morning to the sound of an alarm which he set every night. As soon as he got out of bed, he knelt on his bare knees and prayed secretly to Almighty God with his eyes and hands lifted up to heaven. Since he knelt in this manner at all other times, his knees became very hard and black. While he dressed he said prayers aloud and was unwilling to answer any of his servants who spoke to him during this time, warning them not to do so again.

All the following hours of the day were very orderly. He allotted them as follows: some for exercise, some for reading and translation but most of them for prayer and practices of devotion. Always at nine at night, except upon some extraordinary occasion after an examination of conscience, he went to rest. In those times which were allotted to walking as recreation, his conversations with either his keeper, or the Lieutenant or his own servants were diverted to piety, or some profitable discourse on the lives and examples of holy men, of the suffering and constancy of the martyrs of ancient times from whom he would usually deduce some teaching or saying, such as the facility in a virtuous life after a man had once overcome his sensuality, of the happiness of those that had suffered anything for our Saviour's sake and the like. Because Philip thought and spoke in this way he wrote on the wall of his prison cell this Latin sentence; Quanto plus afflictionis pro Christo in hoc saeculo, tanto plus gloriae cum Christo in futuro. The more affliction we endure for Christ in this world, the more glory we shall obtain with Christ in the next. This inscription he used to show often to his servants for their sake, and to animate himself to suffer all his afflictions with patience and alacrity.

18 Philips Last Sickness and Death

After he had lived many years in this virtuous and ascetical way which was a source of edification to all, and the admiration of all those especially who had known the kind of life he led while he was a Protestant, he became suddenly ill one day in August, 1595. He had fallen victim to a severe stomach disorder and dysentery. Despite his wife's prompt dispatch to the Tower of the best antidotes then available, his condition steadily worsened. Loss of weight and extreme weakness, daily increasing, convinced Philip that his life was slowly ebbing away. It was time to prepare for death.

His first dying wish was to see Father Weston who, about thirteen years earlier, had reconciled him to the Catholic Church. But neither Father Weston nor any other priest was permitted to come to him. Barred from his bed of sickness also were his brother, William, and his uncle, Henry, Earl of Northampton; even his other brother, Lord Thomas Howard, though a staunch Protestant, was refused a visit. Some time before, at the request of friends at Court, the Queen had given a sort of promise that the Countess and their children would be allowed to see Earl Philip before his death. Clutching at this last straw of happiness in seeing his wife and children, Philip wrote letters to the Queen and some of her Council begging fulfilment of her supposed promise.

The Lieutenant of the Tower personally delivered the letters to the Queen; he returned, however, with this verbal reply: If he but once would go to their Church, his request should not only be granted, but he should be restored to his former honour and estates, with as much favour as she could show.

Philip's unhesitating response to the Queen's message was that he could not accept her Majesty's offer under the imposed condition. He had but one life he told the Lieutenant, and that he would willingly give it for the Catholic cause.

Soon after these abortive attempts to see his relations and family, Philip's physical condition rapidly deteriorated. His physicians then advised him to stop reciting the Breviary and reading other spiritual books. In peace he took to his Rosary beads and contented himself with a few other spiritual exercises that he had vowed to perform. Not much later he dismissed his physicians telling them he was beyond their care and had other 'business' to perform his prayers.

At this stage, the dying Earl had a surprise visit from Sir Michael Blount, Lieutenant of the Tower. Sir Michael knelt at the bedside and humbly asked pardon.

Do you ask my forgiveness, Mr Lieutenant? Philip replied. Why then If forgive you in the same sort as I desire myself to be forgiven at the hands of God.

Philip then himself asked forgiveness of the Lieutenant for in any way he had offended him. But, though dying as he was, he raised himself a little on his pillow and looked seriously at the Lieutenant.

Mr Lieutenant, he said, you have treated me and my people very harshly.

How? inquired his visitor.

-No, replied Philip, I shall not again go over things that are past, for they are all feel forgiven. Only I shall say a few words to you as my last will, which, if you take them to heart, may, by the grace of God, benefit you and your reputation. I speak not for myself, for God in His goodness has willed that I shall very soon be delivered out of your charge; I speak only for others who may be committed to this place. You must think, Mr Lieutenant, that when a prisoner comes here to this Tower, that he brings sorrow with him. Oh, then do not add affliction to affliction; there is no man whatsoever that thinks himself surest but may fall. It is a very inhuman thing to tread on him whom misfortune has cast down. The man that is void of mercy, God holds in great detestation. Your commission is only to keep with safety, not to kill with severity. Remember, good Mr Lieutenant, that God who with His finger turns the unstable wheel of this variable world, can in the revolution of a few days bring you to be a prisoner also in the same place where you now keep others. There is no calamity that men are subject to, but which you may also taste as well as any other man. Farewell, Mr Lieutenant; for the time of my small abode, come to me whenever you please, and you shall be heartily welcome as my friend.

Philip's advice to the Lieutenant proved prophetic. Scarcely seven weeks later, he fell into disgrace, lost his office and was imprisoned in the Tower. In it he experienced the same kind of treatment as he had himself harshly meted out to others.

At last Philip's last night in the Tower mercifully arrived. He spent it mostly saying the Rosary or psalms that he knew by heart. Those keeping watch at his bedside often heard the aspirations:

O Lord into Thy Hands I commend my Spirit; or

Lord Thou art my hope.

The bedside watchers often heard during their vigil the holy names of Jesus and Mary. Next morning, seeing them beside his bed, he asked what time it was. They answered that it was about eight o'clock.

Why, then, he said, I have almost run my course and come to the end of this miserable, mortal Iife.

This brought tears to his friends' eyes but Philip consoled them with an assurance that he did not doubt with the grace of God all would go well with him.

This was his last conversation on earth. For he then returned to his prayers, especially his Rosary, and continued so until all he could say at long intervals with departing breath were the names of Jesus and Mary.

The end came peacefully at noon on Sunday 19th October, 1595 - a time of day when by coincidence he was born into this world, arraigned, condemned and judged worthy of death. His had been a short life, just over thirty seven years, eleven of which he had spent in prison.

The old Chronicle thus concludes Philip's life story:

Some have thought, and perhaps not improbably, that he had some foreknowledge of the day of his death, because about seven or eight days before, he made certain notes in his calendar, indicating what prayers he intended to say each day of the following week, on Monday, Tuesday, etc. When he came to the Sunday on which he died, he there made a pause, saying: 'Hither to and no farther; this is enough': and so wrote no more, as his servants who then heard his words and saw him write, have often testified.

Epilogue

With the death of Philip Howard in his octagonal-walled cell in the Tower of London - still visited today - and Philip's inscriptions in Latin on its walls still read, Elizabeth and her Council probably considered that one more potential Catholic luminary had been extinguished - another nail driven into the coffin of English Catholicism. However, any such prognosis was wrong.

The light of Catholic faith shone on in Philip's faithful wife, Ann, who, despite the known displeasure of the Queen at one time she was placed under house arrest made her home a bastion of the faith. With influence and money, she did all she could to preserve the Old Faith. Until her death in 1630 she continued to shelter and conceal fugitive priests, regardless of the death penalty by hanging for such an offence.

In 1680, William Howard, Earl of Stafford and grandson of Philip and Ann, gave his life on Tower Hill in heroic witness to the Catholic faith. Like his grandfather he was a married man and a convert to the Old Faith. Maliciously William was netted into the so-called Catholic plot, falsely conjured up by that notorious liar, Titus Oates. The Church now reveres him as Blessed William Howard.

On 15 December, 1929, it was a far cry from the liturgical splendour of St Peter's Basilica in Rome to the grim Tower of the London in 1595. Yet, the light of Philip Howard's faith still burnt brightly, though in highly changed surroundings when Pope Pius XI enrolled Philip among the 'blessed' in heaven. Thirty one years later, on 25 October 1970, Pope Paul V1 canonised Blessed Philip in company with thirty-nine other English martyrs, priests, laymen and women, all 'magnificent witnesses' to Christ, and shining examples of steadfast faith to Catholics throughout the whole world.

Today pilgrims from any part of the world can still visit the last earthly resting place of St Philip Howard in the Cathedral at Arundel - thanks to his ever faithful wife, Ann. During the reign of James I, in 1624, she had the remains of her husband transferred from London to Arundel, where they had lived for a short while happily together.

In Australia, there is at least one parish dedicated to this outstanding English martyr; fittingly, it is in Norfolk Island. St Philip Howard's Church there has on display a relic of its patron, kindly donated by the 16th Duke of Norfolk in 1962. Truly it has been said that the sound of the saints goes out through all the earth.

Historical Sources

Belloc, H, The County of Sussex, Cassell and Co. Ltd. London, 1935.

Bettenson, H, Documents of the Christian Church, Oxford University Press, 1963.

Blundell, F, OSB, Old Catholic Lancashire Vol. 11, Burns Oates end Washbourne Ltd. London, 1938.

Encyclopedia Britannica,(1965),Vol.16, page 571, see Norfolk, Thomas Howard, Duke.

Harney, M, Magnificent Witnesses, St Paul Editions, Boston, 1970.

Hollis, C, The Monstrous Regiment, Sheed end ward, London, 1929.

Leys, M, Catholics in England 1559 to 1829, A Social History, Longmans, Green and Co., London, 1961.

Longley, K, Saint Margaret Clitherow, Anthony Clarke, Wheatharnstead, Hertfordshire England, 1986.

Reynolds, E, Campion and Parsons, Sheed end ward, London, 1980.

Waugh, E, Edmund Campion, Longmans, Green and Co. London, 1935.