Chapter 1 #6
We soon found out, when the Abbess announced that royal commissioners were to visit Shaftesbury to compile a report on its wealth and the spiritual competence of the nuns.
When she announced this in Chapter, we all looked at one another in dismay, custody of the eyes having been abandoned.
What was the purpose of this report? Would we be plundered for our treasures, or cast out if we were not deemed to have vocations?
And who were the King’s commissioners to decide that?
I thought angrily. It was for the Church, in the person of Mother Abbess, to pronounce on such matters.
‘Hush!’ Mother Elizabeth reproved us, as we fell to speculating.
‘If we show ourselves honest and devout, and above all co-operative, we will have nothing to fear.’ But her voice lacked conviction, and no wonder, for Shaftesbury was now the second richest abbey in England, and if the King cast his greedy eye on it, who knew what might happen, for there was no pope now to curb his desires.
The commissioners arrived in the summer of 1535. They were courteous and deferential, and they interviewed us all. I doubt that they uncovered any scandal. Had there been any, we would surely have known about it. In a community of fifty-five nuns, nothing can be kept secret for long.
When it was my turn, I stood before the chief commissioner, who introduced himself as Master Tregonwell, and two of his fellows, keeping my eyes downcast, even while noticing that one of them was outstandingly handsome, like one of the angels on the choir roof.
I could feel myself blushing and hoped they would take it for shyness.
‘Sister Dorothy, we have heard about you,’ Master Tregonwell said, startling me and making me shiver. What had I done, that they should know about me?
‘You should be aware that under new regulations, any young unprofessed sister may leave the convent freely. As you are only twenty-three, you can do so. Some of your fellow novices have chosen to go.’
‘But Sir, I wish to stay,’ I protested. ‘I desire to serve God, and I have been told that I have a true vocation.’
‘Is that the real reason?’ he asked. ‘You have not been pressured to stay? His Majesty does not want anyone to be forced into the religious life.’
‘No one has pressed me to stay,’ I declared.
‘But Master Secretary Cromwell has received a letter from Master John Clausey, in which he states that, although you were entered here as his own daughter, you are in fact the baseborn daughter of the late Cardinal Wolsey. Do you know that to be true?’
‘It is true,’ I said.
‘Then know that Master Clausey asks that you be allowed to be professed and not obliged to leave the convent. Is that truly your will and desire?’
‘Yes,’ I said, understanding sadly why my father did not want me back home.
‘Then we will grant his request. You may stay.’
No word was said of my dowry and it was with a sense of relief that I left the room.
That augured well, I said to myself, as I hurried back to my duties. They would not be permitting me to stay and be professed if they were planning to close the abbey, surely?
The next day, I went to see the Abbess and asked if I could join the sisterhood.
‘I am delighted that you have reached this decision, Sister Dorothy,’ she said, beaming. ‘I will make the arrangements.’
When the Bishop made his next visitation, I took my final vows along with three other novices. I felt only a sense of elation as the nuns placed over my wimple the black veil of a professed religious. I was now Dame Dorothy.
In the following year, 1536, our fears were confirmed. The King was to dissolve the smaller monasteries, those that were poor or corrupt. Great abbeys like Shaftesbury would not be touched.
The effect of the closures was soon seen, for many monks and nuns were turned out to fend for themselves in a world from which some had long been cut off.
They were given pensions, true, but some had nowhere to go, while others desperately wished to continue serving God in the religious life.
Mother Abbess took in the Prioress of Cannington and two of her nuns, but could not accommodate the many other needy sisters who turned up at our gate begging for places.
We hated turning them away; all we could do was send them off with food and warm cloaks.
‘I hope,’ the Abbess said, addressing us all in Chapter, ‘to do pleasure to the King and Master Cromwell, so that they will look kindly on our house. Master Cromwell recently expressed a desire to acquire the right to present a vicar to the parsonage of Tarrant, which is a right I myself have hitherto exercised, so I have told him he should have it and that I am right glad to do him pleasure.’
Evidently, Master Cromwell was suitably grateful, for the next two years were tranquil and we were left undisturbed. But towards the Christmas of 1538, we learned that the King had begun to dissolve the larger monasteries, which struck fear into our hearts.
I was serving Abbess Elizabeth by then, visiting her house daily and acting as her clerk.
‘They are being surrendered without a protest,’ she told me, sitting tall in her chair, white-faced. ‘I pray God that the King will leave us alone. We must keep our nerve and try to hold out.’
‘Do you think they will close us down, Mother?’ I asked.
‘I just don’t know,’ she said, looking distracted. ‘I wonder if I should try to negotiate in order to save us.’
She pondered the matter for several days, then sent a letter to Master Cromwell, offering him a hundred pounds and a further five hundred marks to the King, if they would permit her and her community to remain at Shaftesbury Abbey, even if it was not as nuns.
To her great dismay, her offer was turned down and she was reproved for not willingly surrendering her house to King Henry.
We knew then that there was no hope. The Abbess sat down and wept. It was terrible to see such a dignified personage crumple.
Early the following year, we learned that Master Tregonwell was in the West Country and that he had already closed down over a score of religious houses.
Sherborne and Montacute had gone, and now he was desecrating Wilton.
We were all in dread, knowing that very soon we would be next.
Where would we all go? England was full of dispossessed religious, many of them reduced to beggary. How would places be found for us?
I knew I would not be welcome at home in Worcester. My sister-in-law would now be entrenched there, and my father’s letter urging that I be professed had shed light on his own position. Yes, I would receive a pension, but would it be enough to support me?
The commissioners arrived in March, on a blustery cold day. As they were wandering around making notes, the Abbess summoned everyone to the Chapter House.
‘My children,’ she said, looking down on the sea of troubled faces, ‘it will not be long before we receive orders to leave, so we must be prepared. I have written to three abbeys in France, who have very kindly agreed to take in any of you who wish to travel there. Some of you, I know, have homes to go to, but I am painfully aware that others have none. However, the King will provide us all with pensions.’ She paused, quite clearly struggling to control a rare show of emotion.
‘If you have nowhere to go, I suggest you look for service in some great household. The skills you have learned here will be to your advantage. But whatever you decide to do, remember that God is with you and that you walk in His love. You see, my children, we never come to the Kingdom of Heaven but by troubles; this trial has been sent to test our faith. I exhort you all to have patience and accept it without complaint.’
Some of my sisters looked anything but patient, and I heard one mutter that God moved in strange ways indeed and what in Heaven was He doing allowing the King to seize church property?
‘I release you all from your vows of obedience,’ the Abbess said.
‘You are no longer answerable to me, only to your consciences. But those who are professed must keep their vows of chastity. The law will not allow you to marry anyway. Now go in peace. We will observe our usual prayers and work until we leave this place, and we will leave it in good order for the King’s men. ’
We filed out in appalled silence. I could hardly believe that our lives here were coming to an end.
How would it feel to be cast out into the world?
I was one of the luckier ones, for I had been here but seven years, yet many of the nuns had not left the abbey in decades.
And what would become of the sick and halt who lay in the infirmary? Who would care for them?
Everyone went about with anxious faces that day. In recreation that evening, we tried to make plans. Dame Margaret Matthew and Dame Edith Magdalen already knew what they were going to do.
‘There is a tenement cottage next to the abbey cemetery available for rent,’ Dame Margaret told us. ‘We are going to combine our pensions and take it.’
‘Does anyone know of anywhere else to rent?’ I asked, wondering how much my pension would be and if I could even afford to rent a place.
‘The chantry priest at St Katherine’s altar told me that the chantry owns a small house with a garden,’ Dame Mary Cressett told me. ‘I was thinking of applying.’
‘There is room for you if you want to join us, Dame Dorothy,’ Dame Margaret offered.
‘I would be glad of the company,’ Dame Mary said quickly. I liked her. She was a cheery soul, kindly and meticulous, and I thought we would get along well together. I accepted her offer with great relief, having thanked Dame Margaret and Dame Edith for theirs. They had each other to rely on.
I was present when Master Tregonwell came to the Abbess’s house on Passion Sunday and politely asked her to surrender the keys to Shaftesbury Abbey.
‘You are all to vacate the premises by noon tomorrow,’ he said.