The last Parliament of Henry Vll’s reign ran from January 20 to the end of March 1504. More turned 26 about halfway through the session and could hardly have been a “beardless boy,” as the story goes. In fact, More had grown into adulthood, completed his formal education, been called to the bar, and begun his legal career. He was doing so well that he married Jane Colt in late 1504 or early 1505. Erasmus tells us that More gave up pursuing a monastic life because “he could not shake off the desire to get married” and that he “chose to be a god-fearing husband rather than an immoral priest” (Erasmus 21/177-79). Roper adds the intriguing detail that More was first attracted to Jane’s younger sister but married Jane instead to keep her from being shamed by being passed over (Roper 4). Jane was 17 when they married; More was 26. Over the next five years they had four children, Margaret (b. 1505), Elizabeth (b. 1506), Cecily (b. 1507), and John (b.1509). When Jane died at the age of 23 in 1511, More married Alice Middleton within a month. Alice was older than More by six years and a widow with a grown daughter. Those who knew her have not been flattering in their descriptions. She was not very attractive, not well educated, and not always agreeable. More married her to make sure that his children would have a mother and that his household would have a mistress. Having a respectable marriage and an accomplished family were essential for an ambitious young lawyer to win the sort of professional recognition he coveted.
Henry Vlll’s coronation on June 24, 1509, was the cause of celebration throughout England, especially among those who favored the New Learning. At 18, Henry was a golden-haired, boyishly handsome scholar-athlete-poet and the hope of all England for a new era of prosperity, tolerance, learning, and peace. In contrast to his father, Henry VIII seemed a generous and benevolent monarch. More wrote verses in Latin for Henry’s coronation that celebrate the occasion in fulsome terms as
The [end] of our slavery, the beginning of our freedom, the end of sadness, the source of joy, for this day consecrates a young man who is the everlasting glory of our time and makes him your King—the only King who is worthy to rule not merely a single people but the whole earth— such a King as will wipe the tears from every eye and put joy in the place of our long distress. (Sylvester 130-31)
And then, remembering Henry VII’s stinginess and many attempts to overtax his people, More launched into a not-so-subtle critique of the previous reign. He wrote that
Laws, heretofore powerless—yes, even laws put to unjust ends—now happily have regained their proper authority. . . . Now each man happily does not hesitate to show the possessions which in the past his fear kept hidden in dark seclusion. . . . No longer does fear whisper, whisper secrets in one’s ear, for no one has secrets either to keep or secretly to tell. Now it is a delight to ignore informers. Only ex-informers fear informers now. (Sylvester 131)
More’s History of King Richard III describes a similar time during Richard’s reign when “the state of things and the dispositions of men were then such that a man could not well tell whom he might trust or whom he might fear” (Sylvester 43). Sadly, it would not be all that long before the same words could be applied to the reign of Henry VIII.
The next 14 years of More’s life were his happiest. His career advanced from one height to the next, each new position higher than the one before. His family prospered, his friends visited often, and he produced an impressive array of writings—literary and educational correspondence, biography, poetry, history, epigrams translated from the Greek, political fantasy, and spiritual meditations. He was a man on the rise and enjoyed nearly unfettered liberty to exercise his many talents. During this period More produced most of the literary works for which he is still esteemed—The Life of Pico della Mirandola, The History of King Richard III, and his masterpiece of political satire, Utopia. And yet, when he was at the pinnacle of this amazingly productive period, More’s vision turned inward and he wrote his sobering treatise on The Last Things. These several steps in his progress now deserve some additional attention.
The advancement of More’s professional career during this period was rapid and steep. On September 3, 1510, More won appointment as undersheriff for the City of London and was also named justice of the peace for Hampshire. As R. W. Chambers explains, the “office of Under-Sheriff was important. The Mayor and Sheriffs had not, as a rule, any legal experience, and the Under-Sheriff was the official who advised the Sheriff in ‘those numerous cases which came under his jurisdiction’” and acted as judge of the Sheriff’s Court.9 More made himself popular in the role of judge because he usually reduced or canceled the fees due to him from contesting parties, thus making both the plaintiffs and defendants happy (Erasmus 22/228-33). More did, after all, possess great legal knowledge, practical wit, good humor, and enormous personal charm, which could have dispelled the anger or anxiety of many a litigant. In 1511, he was named reader at Lincoln’s Inn for its autumn term. In 1515 More was again appointed reader for Lincoln’s Inn, this time for its Lenten term. Such was his growing reputation as a lawyer, judge, and teacher.
In May 1515, More’s career took on national and international significance. In that year he participated in an embassy to Flanders to help resolve issues affecting the wool trade. More’s responsibility, it seems, was restricted to the issues that related to commerce and most likely only those issues that affected the merchants of London. The negotiations took months, and More was able to spend his leisure time in the company of old and new friends, including Cuthbert Tunstall (cleric, student of Greek and Hebrew, diplomat, administrator, royal adviser, and later bishop of Durham), John Clement (a former pupil in Saint Paul’s School), and Peter Giles (humanist scholar and printer of Antwerp). More’s fictionalized account of his conversation with Giles and a certain Raphael Hythloday is the basis for Book I of Utopia. More dedicated Utopia to Peter Giles.
In 1517, More was chosen by the king to serve on the Privy Council. The Privy Councillors were the personal advisers to the king. The council had broad powers and at times could enact laws simply by royal proclamation. The councillors could also sit as a court to hear legal disputes. In 1518, More was appointed a judge and Master of the Court of Requests. To make time to meet his new responsibilities, he resigned his position as undersheriff for the City of London. In 1520, he was a member of the royal entourage when Henry traveled to Calais for a formal state visit with the king of France. The meeting is now known as “the Field of Cloth of Gold” because of its lavish display of wealth and spectacular pageantry, which for the English part was staged by John Rastell, More’s brother-in-law. Rastell was a lawyer and printer with theatrical connections who had married More’s sister, Elizabeth. It was Rastell, in fact, who first printed Medwall’s play Fulgens and Lucres, around 1515. On May 21, 1521, More was appointed undertreasurer of England and knighted by the king. A year later, More was called upon to speak for the City of London to welcome the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, who was visiting London in the company of the king. His reputation as an eloquent speaker was by then well established.
In 1523, More returned to Parliament and this time to serve by election of its members as Speaker of the House of Commons. As Speaker, he represented all the members of the House. His audience was the king or the king’s deputies. On his first day, More petitioned the king to allow complete freedom of debate within the House chamber. He appealed to the king to be tolerant of their debates, for some members, though they were well educated and well spoken, could still be wrong on some issues, and other members, though they were rough hewn and plain spoken, could be right on some issues, too. No one would know who was right on any given issue unless all could speak freely. Having made his argument, More then asked Henry,
To give all your Commons here assembled your most gracious license and pardon, freely, without doubt of your dreadful displeasure, every man to discharge his conscience, and boldly in anything incident among us to declare his advice; and whatsoever happen any man to say, that it may [please] your noble Majesty. . . to take all in good part. (Roper 70)
It took a man of parts to make such a request, and the House of Commons knew that their new Speaker was just such a man. The right of every man to “discharge his conscience” as he saw fit was a moral principle that More would continue to advocate to his very last breath.
to Erasmus, we have a rather complete verbal portrait of More at this time. In 1519, Erasmus wrote to respond to his friend Ulrich von Hutten, one of the German humanists, who had requested a description of More and some news about his life. After the publication of his Epigrams, Life of Pico, and Utopia, More’s fame had spread throughout Europe, and his admirers on the Continent wanted to know about him. Erasmus’s portrait of More is a flattering one and does not reveal many warts. Nonetheless, it is invaluable because it was drawn on the spot and directly from life. Here is a brief overview of his portrait:
More is neither tall nor short, his body is symmetrical, his skin rosy, his hair darkish blond, his beard scanty, and his eyes are flecked blue and gray, which Erasmus believes denotes a happy character. More’s expression is friendly and he smiles often; he is well suited to merriment. When walking, he lists a bit to the left, carrying his right shoulder higher. He is not at all fussy about his clothes or what he eats, though he loves eggs. He is healthy, but not athletic, and does not often get sick. He does not drink much alcohol, only a little wine, which he usually dilutes with water. His voice is not loud, but rather clear and distinct; he speaks in measured tones and without hesitation. More does not like to wear his chain of office and does not much like public ceremonies or parties. (Erasmus 16/1-18/97)
Beyond the physical description, Erasmus tells von Hutten that More “seems born and created for friendship” and cannot have enough friends. He is open for friendship with anyone, regardless of rank, so long as they remain open to learning and self-improvement. He does not much like frivolous pastimes—ball
Games, cards and gambling, and other such diversions “with which the common run of grandees beguile their tedious hours.” He is courteous and has such charm that he can cheer up anybody. He loves merriment and a good joke, but he “never goes as far as buffoonery.” He delights in wit, even when he is the butt of the joke. More’s own witty manner and sense of fun inspired Erasmus to write his Praise of Folly10 (see Erasmus 8/98-19/125).
As for More’s household, Erasmus says that More has an insatiable curiosity and that his house is full of all kinds of unusual plants and animals, including apes, foxes, ferrets, and weasels. He loves to collect things from all over the world and delights in the pleasure that his guests take in viewing these objects. He has been a lifelong student of the Greek and Latin classics and a devoted student of the church fathers. Erasmus thought that More’s home was happy and harmonious; in 1519 it also included More’s father and his father’s fourth wife (Erasmus 19/126-22/215).
As for More’s professional career, Erasmus tells von Hutten that he is an extraordinarily capable lawyer and judge, that he is admired by the citizens of London, and that one “could hardly find a better ex tempore speaker.” “His mind is always ready, ever passing nimbly to the next point; his memory always at his elbow. . . . In disputations nothing more acute can be imagined, so that he has often taken on even the most eminent theologians in their own field and been almost too much for them.” Erasmus notes that “John Colet. . . used to say that. . . there was only one able man in the whole of England,” by which he meant More. More cultivates a “true piety” and sets regular times for prayer, during which “he says his prayers, and they are not conventional but come from the heart.” Erasmus is amazed that a man of such piety can live such a worldly successful life. He asks von Hutten, “What becomes then of those people who think that Christians are not to be found except in monasteries?” (Erasmus, 22/216-24/302).
Erasmus does not mention More’s school, but he should have, because it was More’s remarkable attempt to realize the Utopian ideal of universal education. In addition to that of his own children, More supervised the education of his stepdaughter, Alice Alington, and his wards, Margaret Giggs and Anne Cresacre. Later on, he welcomed other children to his home and school, just as Cardinal Morton had welcomed him. They included Giles Heron, another ward, and More’s nieces and nephews. The children of family friends attended his school, too. More hired several tutors, including John Clement, who was with him in Antwerp when the idea for Utopia was hatched. The curriculum emphasized Latin, the trivium, music, and moral philosophy. More knew that some would criticize his education of women, but he held that their education was more important for them than “the riches of Croesus or the beauty of Helen.”11 His daughter Margaret especially excelled in her studies and was widely recognized as a learned woman, much to the shock and surprise of many a learned man. Her achievements and those of her classmates, male and female, were a constant source of delight for More.
More’s long-standing esteem for the monastic life was well known to Erasmus. He knew, too, that More had found a model for living a Christian life outside of a monastery in the life of Pico della Mirandola. Thomas Stapleton, an early biographer, says that when More gave up the idea of a monastic life for himself he “determined. . . to put before his eyes the example of some prominent layman, on which he might model his life. . . and finally fixed upon John Pico, [earl of Mirandola], who was renowned. . . for his encyclopedic knowledge, and no less esteemed for his sanctity of life.”12 Pico was a noted Florentine humanist who had lived a pious life devoted to scholarship and philosophy until his untimely death in 1494 at the age of 31.
As it happened, More was presented with an occasion for which he could share his thoughts about Pico with a childhood friend who was also drawn to the cloistered life. When Joyeuce Leigh chose to become a “Poor Clare”— that is, a member of the convent Order of Saint Clare—More thought to present her with a gift of his own making that would betoken his esteem for her and celebrate their spiritual friendship. His gift was a copy of his recently completed Life of Pico della Mirandola, dedicated to her and published about 1510 by his brother-in-law, John Rastell. The Life of Pico includes More’s English translation of excerpts from a Latin biography of Pico, translations of three of Pico’s letters, his commentary on Psalm 15 (Vulgate), and three duodecalogues (sets of 12 sayings) that More turned into rhyme royal stanzas: “Twelve Rules of Spiritual Battle,” “Twelve Weapons of Spiritual Battle,” and “Twelve Properties of a Lover.” The contemplative theme running throughout the whole of The Life of Pico is the renunciation of the temptations of the world, the devil, and the flesh for a life of service to God, a spiritual theme throughout much of medieval literature.
One is tempted to think that Erasmus had a copy of The Life of Pico before him as he wrote his portrait letter of More to Ulrich von Hutten. There are striking parallels between More and his subject: their good looks; their precocity as children; the shaping influence of one dominant parent (Pico’s mother and More’s father); their wide-ranging knowledge, facility with languages, and mental acuity; their discontent with traditional forms of education; their skill in Scholastic disputation; their decisions to live secular lives; the mortification of their bodies (Pico by scourging, More by hair shirt); their preference for devotion over knowledge; and their cheerfulness and equanimity of temperament. There are also striking differences. Once More chose to live in the world (i. e., not as a cleric), he also chose to succeed in the world. Pico came from an aristocratic family of means; More did not. Pico could afford to give away the better part of his property and fortune and live a retiring life. More, however, was a man with responsibilities. He had a wife, children, other dependents, professional obligations, and a living to earn. Pico could live a kind of secular cloistered life that More could only dream of. It would not be until circumstances brought More to imprisonment in the Tower of London that he could think of himself as having finally entered a kind of cloistered world, though not the one he would have preferred.
More is not without a sense of adventure in The Life of Pico. He freely renders Pico’s prose duodecalogues into rhyme royal stanzas, presumably because he enjoyed the poetic challenge. More also invents over 80 new words for the English language or gives new meanings to already existing English words. Here is a sampling: alacrity (noun meaning “eagerness”), bedlam (adjective meaning “deranged,” alluding to the Hospital of Saint Mary of Bethlehem for the insane in London), culture (noun meaning “the development of the mind”), laboriously (adverb meaning “with great effort”), mediocrity (noun meaning “the golden mean, the ideal moderate position between extremes”), skittish (adjective meaning “nervous, jumpy”), persuasion (noun meaning “a belief or set of beliefs”), and stomach (noun meaning “internal strength”). More concludes The Life of Pico with a prayer by Pico:
*break free
*regret
**captivity
Grant I thee pray such heart into mine heart That to this love of thine may be equal Grant me from Satan’s service to astart*
With whom me rueth* so long to have been in thrall*
Grant me good Lord, creator of all The flame to quench of all sinful desire And in thy love set all mine heart afire.13
Pico’s prayer is a tidy summation of his book and a way to turn to More’s next literary effort. If Pico had lived to ask More what sort of mischief a satanic figure could visit upon a state, he would have found some answers in The History of King Richard III.
World History
