Showing posts with label Accession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Accession. Show all posts

Saturday 8 July 2017

Accession - The Jacobean Succession Question and Divine Right






The Earl of Southampton c.1618, 
after a portrait by Daniel Mytens, 
National Portrait Gallery, London.



Constitutional Documents of the Reign of James I, A.D. 1603 ..., Parts 1603-1625



Did Tudor Succession Law Permit
Royal Bastards to Inherit the Crown?
Thomas Regnier

Some advocates of the theory that Queen Elizabeth the First had a secret illegitimate child argue that Parliamentary legislation paved the way for such a child to succeed to the throne. To support this theory, they cite a 1571 statute1 that refers to the Queen’s “natural issue” as possible heirs to the throne. The phrase “natural issue” could refer to an illegitimate child, whereas “lawful issue” would designate only persons born in wedlock. Dr. Paul Altrocchi argues that the 1571 statute no longer required that a successor to the throne be “lawfully” begotten:

The . . . Act of Succession had specified that a legal royal heir must be “issue of her body lawfully to be begotten.” In 1571, “lawfully to be begotten” was struck by Parliament, permitting royal bastards to be legal heirs to the Crown.2
Paul Streitz also maintains the possibility of an illegitimate child becoming the monarch, saying that the 1571 Act “specifically reversed the previous Act of Succession” and “opens up the possibility for an heir to the throne from Queen Elizabeth, even an illegitimate one.”3 Charles Beauclerk, while not asserting that the Act expressly allowed bastards on the throne, echoes this theme:
By means of this extraordinary clause [in the 1571 Act], Elizabeth was opening the door to the possibility that even if she refrained from naming an illegitimate child as her successor, others might in time take the opportunity to do so.4

Regnier - Tudor Succession 40
These writers are not the first to interpret the 1571 Act as clearing a path for bastard kings. Indeed, as William Camden wrote, the wording of the statute became the subject of general mirth around the time it was enacted:
But incredible it is what jests lewd catchers of words made amongst themselves by occasion of that Clause, Except the same be the Natural issue of her body; forasmuch as the Lawyers term those Children natural, which are gotten out of Wed-lock . . . .5
Additionally, in 1584, the anonymous Leicester’s Commonwealth6 accused the Earl of Leicester, Queen Elizabeth’s longtime “favorite,” of scheming to get the words “natural issue” placed in “the statute of succession” so that, after the Queen’s death, Leicester could have one of his bastard children made king by pawning him off as his and Elizabeth’s illegitimate child. But did the 1571 statute actually allow for this?
In this article, I examine the theory that the 1571 statute allowed royal bastards on the throne and find that it does not stand up to scrutiny. In doing so, I first explore, as background, English common law and ecclesiastical law regarding bastardy, especially as this subject relates to the royal succession. This article discusses the role of Parliament in determining the succession and explains how statutes are interpreted and how they are revised and repealed.
The article also analyzes the changes made in the succession law by the three Acts of Succession of Henry VIII. Finally, the article examines the 1571 Act cited above, which is actually a treason statute, and demonstrates that it does not alter the requirement laid down in the Third Act of Succession that for any children of Elizabeth to inherit the crown, they would have to be her lawful issue.

Caution: Bastards
It is difficult to imagine an illegitimate person ascending the throne when, under the common law, a bastard was filius nullius, or “child of no one.” Bastards could not inherit real property,7 let alone kingdoms.8 Otherwise, bastards had the same rights as other free persons.
The common law of bastardy and the ecclesiastical, or church, law were often in conflict. Church courts decided disputes about the validity of a marriage; but the common law, or secular, courts decided disputes about the inheritance of real property, which were often intertwined with decisions about the validity of marriages.
Under church law, children of adulterous relationships were bastards. The common law, however, had a strong presumption that a child born to a married woman was legitimate, even if the child was the result of an adulterous affair. For example, a legal standard often used to determine legitimacy was the “Four Seas” test:

as long as the husband was not impotent and he was in the kingdom
at any time at all during the pregnancy then the child was legitimate.


Shakespeare’s Richard III, in fact, refers to the “Four Seas” test when Richard, then still Duke of Gloucester, argues his claim to the throne based on the theory that his late brother, King Edward IV, had actually been a bastard:

Tell them, when that my mother went with child
Of that insatiate Edward, noble York,
My princely father, then had wars in France.10


It is significant that Richard points to the time when his mother “went with child,” which covers the whole pregnancy, not merely when she was got with child, which would refer only to Edward’s conception. In order for Edward to be a bastard under the “Four Seas” test, his father would have had to be out of the kingdom for the entire pregnancy, not just the time of conception—biological facts be damned. Richard methodically establishes the other significant fact necessary to make his brother illegitimate by saying that their father “had wars in France” during the pregnancy: in other words, he was outside the kingdom.

A 1406 Year Book, an early collection of law reports, memorably summarized the ramifications of the “Four Seas” test as “Whosoever bulleth my cow, the calf is mine.”11 The test was abandoned in 1732, however, “on account of its absolute nonsense.”12 Paradoxically, the church law, which so strongly disfavored the legitimacy of children of adulterous unions, allowed for “special bastardy,” which was the legitimizing of a bastard child after the fact, if his parents should later marry. The common law, however, still held such a child illegitimate and incapable of inheriting real property.

But the common law did not consider a child illegitimate if the parents had married in good faith and the marriage later had to be annulled because of the discovery of consanguinity (a blood relationship) or affinity (a familial relationship through marriage) between the parents.13

A possible basis for bastardy under the common law was that the parents’ marriage turned out to be invalid due to a “precontract,” such as those found in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. One kind of “precontract” was an oral agreement between a couple that they would marry at some time in the future. This agreement was binding on both parties and neither one could marry someone else without first obtaining the agreement of the original betrothed to dissolve the contract.14 Measure for Measure contains two examples of precontracts: one between Claudio and Juliet, who are engaged and living together while awaiting their dowry; and another between Angelo and Mariana, which Angelo had managed to dissolve through a legal loophole, namely, Mariana’s alleged lack of chastity.

The principle that a valid precontract nullifies a later marriage was yet another legal tool that became useful to Richard III on his way to the throne. Richard 
argued that when Edward IV married his queen, Elizabeth Woodville, Edward was already precontracted to another woman. This would make the children of the marriage illegitimate. In the Titulus Regius (Title of the King), an act passed by Parliament in 1484, Richard received after-the-fact legislative blessing on his kingship based on Edward’s invalid marriage and the consequent bastardy of Edward’s sons:

[A]t the time of the contract of the same pretensed marriage [to Elizabeth Woodville] . . . King Edward was and stood married and troth plight to one Dame Eleanor Butler . . . with whom the said King Edward had made a precontract of matrimony . . . . Which premises being true, as in very truth they been true, it appears and follows evidently, that the said King Edward during his life, and the said Elizabeth, lived together sinfully and damnably in adultery, against the law of God and his Church . . . . Also it appears evidently and follows that all the issue and children of the said King, been bastards, and unable to inherit or to claim anything by inheritance, by the law and custom of England.15

This proclamation is grounded in the longstanding common law principle that illegitimate children could not inherit real property, including, of course, the kingdom.16

Parliament and the Succession

The Titulus Regius, in which Parliament endorsed Richard III’s claim to the throne, was not the first instance of Parliament involving itself in the succession. Even before King John signed the Magna Carta in 1215, English kings were not absolute rulers.17 The king’s Great Council, which had the power to prevent the king from raising taxes, eventually evolved into what we now call “Parliament” and officially assumed that name in the 1230s. While the monarch was, as Sir Thomas Smith said, “the life, the head, and the authority of all things that be done in the realm of England,”18 Parliament was always looking over the monarch’s shoulder and gradually growing in power.

When it came to the succession to the crown, there was no set formula for determining the next monarch: heredity played a large role, but considerations such as popular support, military strength, and administrative ability also mattered.19 Succession was “determined by politics more than law when the choice of a successor was complicated by the absence of a direct and competent heir.”20 Parliamentary approval might then become the decisive factor, although in some cases Parliament did little more than meekly ratify the results achieved on the battlefield.21

Even before the Titulus Regius, Parliament had often taken an important role in determining the succession. For example, in 1327, Parliamentary pressure was a factor in the forced abdication of Edward II.22 In 1377, when Richard II succeeded his grandfather, Edward III—skipping over Edward’s still-living son, John of Gaunt—
Richard’s right to the throne had already been validated by his having been made Prince of Wales, at Parliament’s request, the previous year.23 By 1399, Richard II had come full circle, as Parliament accepted his coerced resignation and allowed Henry IV to become king, despite an arguably stronger claim by Henry’s cousin, Edmund Mortimer.24 In 1460, during the Wars of the Roses, when Richard, Duke of York, claimed a superior right to the throne to that of Henry VI, he presented his case to Parliament, which decided that York’s claim was stronger, but voted that Henry VI should remain as king. Parliament then passed the Act of Accord, a compromise that kept Henry as king but recognized York as his successor and disinherited Henry’s son.25

The Wars of the Roses placed a premium on Parliamentary approval as a way to inject a sense of legitimacy into one’s occupying the throne. Sure enough, when Henry Tudor, the Second Earl of Richmond, ended the Wars by overthrowing Richard III in 1485 to become Henry VII and begin the Tudor dynasty, a preamble to the new statutes enacted in his reign proclaimed him the true king, even though it gave no explanation as to how or why he was entitled to that position.26 Succession statutes would become a feature of the Tudor era, with Henry VIII promulgating three different succession acts that changed the course of history.

Before delving into these statutes, let me offer a few words of advice about reading these, or any other statutes:

(1) Read a statute very carefully.27 English statutes from this period tend to use excessive verbiage and often repeat the same idea several times using slightly different words, just to be sure all bases are covered. This results in extremely long sentences, in which one needs to carefully identify subjects, verbs, objects, and supporting clauses in order to understand the legal effect of the statute. In this article, I have made liberal use of ellipses when quoting statutes in order to focus on the significant, operative words of a statute. I have also modernized the spelling and typography.

(2) Start with the text itself.28 If the meaning of the statute is clear from the plain language of the statute, one need not look any further.

(3) If any doubt remains about the effect of the statute, consider whether your interpretation of it harmonizes with other laws, such as the common law, ecclesiastical law, or other statutes.29

(4) If one is still uncertain, only then does one look at the legislative history for clues to a statute’s meaning. This method of interpretation is only a last resort because what a few legislators may have stated at the time of a statute’s enactment may not represent the understanding of all the legislators.30 A well-written statute should be clear from the text itself, without resorting to other interpretive methods.31

First Act of Succession, 1533–34

With these thoughts in mind, let’s look at the First Act of Succession under Henry VIII, enacted by Parliament and the King in 1533–34.32 Although it is entitled, “An Act for the establishment of the King’s succession,” it touches on many subjects, including treason law 33 and laws regarding marriages between people who were already related.34

In creating these statutes, the monarch and Parliament were not merely creating new laws; they were creating propaganda. They provided not only rules to be followed, but also justifications to explain why these rules were for the good of the kingdom. Little, if any, emphasis was placed on the possibility that these laws might also be good for the monarch personally, although that was likely to be the case. The First Act of Succession begins with a preamble that purports to explain the reason for the statute:

calling to our remembrance the great divisions which in times past hath been in this Realm by reason of several titles pretended to the imperial Crown . . . .35

This evokes memories of the civil wars that had racked England since Richard II was deposed in 1399 and had continued through the Wars of the Roses, which ended in 1485—the very subjects of Shakespeare’s two great tetralogies of English history.36 This provided a plausible public relations reason for the statute: 

preventing further internal strife by clearly laying out the path of succession. The preamble does not mention another motive for the statute: Henry’s recent marriage to Anne Boleyn and his desire to obliterate any trace of legitimacy in his marriage to Katherine of Aragon. As the Act explained:

The marriage heretofore solemnised between your Highness [Henry VIII] and the Lady Katherine, being before lawful wife to prince Arthur, your elder brother, which by him was carnally known, shall be definitively, clearly, and absolutely declared, deemed, and adjudged to be against the laws of Almighty God, and also accepted, reputed, and taken of no value nor effect, but utterly void and [annulled].37

This passage leaves no doubt as to its meaning. This is an example of the principle that, when the plain text of a statute is clear, one need not look further to understand it. The Act went on to validate the already-consummated marriage between Henry and Anne Boleyn:

The lawful matrimony had and solemnized between your Highness and your most dear and entirely beloved wife Queen Anne shall be established, and taken for undoubtful, true, sincere, and perfect ever hereafter.38

Brief Chronicles IV (2012-13) 45

In this case, “ever hereafter” turned out to be only a few years. The Act soon went on to do its main business of defining the succession to the crown:

First the said imperial Crown . . . shall be to . . . the first son of your body between your Highness and your said lawful wife Queen Anne begotten, and to the heirs of the body of the same first son lawfully begotten . . . And for default of such sons of your body begotten . . . that then the said imperial Crown . . . shall be to the issue female between your Majesty and . . . Queen Anne begotten . . . That is [to] say: first to the eldest issue female, which is the Lady Elizabeth, now princess, and to the heirs of her body lawfully begotten . . . .39

Note that the phrase “lawfully begotten” appears frequently. The message is clear: bastards need not apply. It was not necessary, however, for the statute to repeat “lawfully begotten” at every opportunity. For example, when the Act says, “then the said imperial Crown . . . shall be to the issue female between your Majesty and . . . Queen Anne begotten,” it was not necessary to place “lawfully” before “begotten” because the Act had already established that Anne was Henry’s lawful wife; therefore, any children of that marriage would necessarily be legitimate.

Revising and Repealing Statutes
The First Act of Succession was as short-lived, alas, as the marriage of Henry and Anne and was replaced by the Second Act of Succession in 1536. But before looking at the Second Act, let us consider the methods by which a statute may be revised or repealed. This will be helpful later on, when we consider whether acts of Parliament allowed the illegitimate children of a monarch to inherit the crown.

In order to illustrate the basic principles, I will use the traditional law school method of presenting hypothetical statutes from a mythical U.S. state, in this case, the state of “Calizona.” There are three methods of changing a statute: (1) revision, (2) repeal, and (3) conflict (repeal by implication). Following are examples of, and variations on, each method:
Revision. Suppose the Calizona legislature enacts the following statute:
Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona (1978): Everyone must wear green on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1978).
This seems clear. After July 1, 1978, everyone in Calizona must wear something green on Wednesdays. They don’t have to wear all green, just something green. (For our purposes, we will ignore whether this statute would be constitutional.) Suppose, however, that the legislature passes the following statute fourteen years later:
Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona (1992): Everyone must wear red on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1992).

Notice that both statutes have the same number, 310.17. That means that the later one is a revised version of the first and completely replaces the old version. The upshot for people in Calizona is that they must now wear something red on Wednesdays, but they don’t have to wear green on Wednesdays anymore.
No revision. Let’s consider a different scenario. We’ll start again with the older version of the statute:

Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona (1978): Everyone must wear green on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1978).

And let’s say that the legislature passes another statute that reads as follows:

Section 312.145, Laws of Calizona (1992): Everyone must wear red on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1992).

Notice that the second statute has a different section number than the first statute. It therefore is not claiming to be a revision of the first statute. Rather, it is a separate statute that stands on its own. It has no effect on the first statute, even though they address the same subject (what color people must wear on Wednesdays). This means both statutes are in effect, and people in Calizona must wear something red as well as something green on Wednesdays. (Now we’re ignoring fashion considerations as well as the Constitution!)
Repeal. To illustrate repeal, let’s begin again with our original 1978 statute about wearing green on Wednesdays:

Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona (1978): Everyone must wear green on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1978).

Fourteen years later, the legislature passes a different statute expressly repealing the first:
Section 621.03, Laws of Calizona (1992): Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona, is hereby repealed (effective July 1, 1992).

This means that the rule about wearing green on Wednesdays is now, as Henry VIII’s Parliament would have said, “accepted, reputed, and taken of no value nor effect, but utterly void and annulled.” In other words, Calizonans don’t have to wear green on Wednesdays anymore.

Conflict (Repeal by Implication). To illustrate conflict, we’ll begin again with our 1978 statute about wearing green on Wednesdays:
Section 310.17, Laws of Calizona (1978): Everyone must wear green on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1978).


Later, the legislature enacts the following statute:
Section 312.145, Laws of Calizona (1992): Everyone must wear only red on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1992).
Note that the second statute has a different number than the first, so it doesn’t purport to be a revision of the first. It would seem, at first glance, that citizens of Calizona would be required to follow both statutes.

There’s only one problem: it is physically impossible to follow both statutes at the same time. If one follows the second statute and wears only red on Wednesdays, it is impossible to wear anything green. Here we have a true “conflict.” While the second statute doesn’t say that it is repealing the first, the two are irreconcilable (a key word when considering conflict).

Whenever a direct conflict exists, so that two statutes cannot both be followed at the same time, the later statute prevails over the earlier one.40 Thus, even though the legislature never said it was revising or repealing the rule about wearing green on Wednesdays, a court interpreting the two statutes would hold that the later rule effectively repeals the earlier rule by implication.

Partial Conflict. Courts do not favor repeal by implication and will find a way to reconcile two statutes if it is at all possible. Conflict is narrowly interpreted, and a court will find that a statute is repealed by implication only to the extent of the conflict and no further. Let’s illustrate this by starting with a slightly different version of the 1978 statute:

Section 310.17: On Wednesdays, everyone must wear green and must whistle “Dixie” (effective July 1, 1978).

This law requires everyone to do two things on Wednesdays: wear something green and whistle “Dixie.” (It doesn’t say you have to whistle “Dixie” all day, so once would be enough. For our purposes, we’ll ignore difficulties with enforcement.)

Later, the legislature enacts the following statute:
Section 312.145, Laws of Calizona (1992): Everyone must wear only red on Wednesdays (effective July 1, 1992).
As we’ve discussed, the part about wearing only red is irreconcilable with wearing anything green. So the later statute trumps the earlier one, and the rule is that everyone has to wear only red on Wednesdays.
But do you still have to whistle “Dixie”? The answer is yes, because there is no conflict between wearing all red and whistling “Dixie”: one can easily do both things at the same time (assuming one can whistle at all). Therefore, the conflict between the two statutes is partial, and only the part of the first statute that is in conflict with the second is repealed by implication.
Regnier - Tudor Succession 48
Second Act of Succession, 1536
Now, with an understanding of how statutes are revised and repealed, let’s look at how Parliament changed the First Act of Succession, which had designated Henry’s lawful issue by Anne Boleyn as heirs to the throne. The Second Act of Succession, passed in 1536, was entitled, “An Act for the establishment of the succession of the Imperial Crown of this Realm.”41 It expressly repealed the entire First Act of Succession:

By authority of this present Parliament [the First Act of Succession]42 . . . from the first day of this present parliament shall be repealed, annulled, and made frustrate and of none effect.43

The Second Act of Succession soon got to its primary purpose of invalidating the King’s marriage to Anne Boleyn, who had been executed for treason,44 and the bastardizing of her only child, Elizabeth:

The said Marriage between your Grace and the said Lady Anne was never good, nor consonant to the laws but utterly void and of none effect. . . . And that all the . . . children, born . . . under the same marriage . . . shall be taken . . . [to] be illegitimate....and barred to claim . . . any inheritance as lawful . . . heirs to your Highness by lineal descent.45

Again, the “no bastards” message is clear. The Second Act also reaffirmed the invalidity of Henry VIII’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon. Interestingly, the First Act had not expressly stated that Lady Mary, the daughter of Katherine and Henry, was illegitimate, but the Second Act remedied this oversight by specifically bastardizing Mary along with Elizabeth. The Second Act also provided, as the First Act had done, that it was treason for anyone to contradict the Act as to who was the lawful successor to the throne.46

Additionally, the Second Act of Succession made Henry’s lawful issue by his new wife, Jane Seymour (or any lawful wife he should have in the future), heirs to the throne. It also gave Henry the remarkable power to name anyone he chose as successor to the crown in the event that his family line should fail.47 He could designate such successors through his will or through letters patent, a kind of executive order.48

The Second Act ended with an odd provision stating that the Act had to be interpreted exactly as written and that it could not be repealed. I call this provision “odd” because, as a practical matter, one parliament may not prevent a later parliament from revising or repealing an act made by the earlier parliament.49 This practical reality is demonstrated by the Third Act of Succession, which came along to punch some holes in the Second Act.

Third Act of Succession, 1543–44

The Third Act of Succession, enacted in 1543–44 and entitled, “An Act concerning the establishment of the King’s Majesty’s Succession in the Imperial Crown of the Realm,”50 perhaps gave some deference to the idea that the Second Act of Succession could not be repealed by declining to nullify the Second Act in its entirety. Therefore, anything in the Second Act that was not in direct conflict with the Third Act remained valid law. In fact, the Third Act made only a few changes in the law, although the ones it made had enormous impact.

The Third Act proclaimed that Henry’s son Edward (later Edward VI) would succeed him as king. This is what the law calls a “declaratory act.” That is, it was not making new law, but simply restating or clarifying what had long been the default rule under the common law and was reaffirmed by the Second Act of Succession: the eldest legitimate son gets the crown on his father’s death.

But the Third Act had some provisions that were in direct conflict with the Second Act and therefore overrode the earlier provisions. Henry was by this time married to his sixth wife, Katherine Parr, who had persuaded him to reconcile with his daughters, Mary and Elizabeth. The Third Act therefore declared that if both Henry and Edward should die without other lawful heirs, the crown would default to Lady Mary “and to the heirs of the body of the same Lady Mary lawfully begotten.” Furthermore, if Mary should die without heirs, the crown would default to Lady Elizabeth “and to the heirs of the body of the said Lady Elizabeth lawfully begotten . . . .”51

If Edward VI had lived to adulthood and produced offspring, as most people probably hoped and expected that he would, the provisions placing his two half-sisters in the line of succession would have made an interesting historical footnote. But since Edward died childless at age 15, these provisions had major consequences. Mary and Elizabeth were the first two women to be sole rulers of England, and Elizabeth’s reign was one of the most remarkable in all of English history.

Although the Third Act of Succession put Mary and Elizabeth in line for the crown, it didn’t expressly say that the two daughters were Henry’s legitimate children. Furthermore, it said nothing about the validity of Henry’s marriages to their mothers, Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. One may look at this in either of two ways: 

(1) since the Second Act expressly invalidated both marriages and the Third Act didn’t contradict that, the marriages were still invalid and the daughters still bastards; or 

(2) making Mary and Elizabeth legitimate successors to the crown was irreconcilable, under most views of English law, with their being the bastard fruits of invalid marriages.52

The second interpretation is probably the better one because statutes that deviate from the common law must be construed narrowly.53 The first interpretation would have implicitly turned the common law upside down by allowing the bastard child of an unlawful marriage to become the monarch. Since the Third Act of Succession didn’t explicitly say that it intended to make such a drastic change in the common law, rules of statutory interpretation suggest that we shouldn’t read that meaning into it. Most likely, Henry could not bear to officially proclaim his first two marriages valid and did not want to dredge up the unpleasant fact that he had bastardized his two daughters, so he and Parliament simply ignored the anomaly.

The Lady Mary, however, could not abide the anomaly, and when she became Queen in 1553 on the death of Edward VI, one of the first acts of Parliament declared Mary legitimate and reinstated Katherine of Aragon’s marriage to Henry VIII, describing it as lawful, perfect, and blessed by God.54 The statute also declared the First Act of Succession void (a complete waste of ink, as the Second Act of Succession, which was still largely in force, had already done this) and declared void those parts of the Second Act that had bastardized Mary.

When Elizabeth became Queen in 1558, a so-called “Act of Recognition” stated that “Your Majesty . . . is and . . . ought to be . . . our most rightful and lawful Sovereign liege Lady and Queen.”55 This part of the Act was, again, a “declaratory” act, which didn’t say anything new but simply reaffirmed and restated the law of succession that was already in place. As mentioned earlier, this was a part of the function of English statutes, to create good public relations, along with legislation that benefited the monarch.

The statute did go on to say something new, however, when it declared that “your Highness is rightly, lineally, and lawfully descended and come of the Blood royal of this Realm of England . . . .”56 Use of the phrase “lawfully descended” cured an omission in the Third Act by expressly un-bastardizing Elizabeth. But Anne Boleyn’s marriage to Henry VIII, unlike Katherine of Aragon’s, was not posthumously recognized as valid.57


The Treason Act of 1571
We now arrive at the 1571 Treason Act,58 which some have claimed allowed for, or at least set the stage for, the ascension of a royal bastard to the throne. In those days, it was not uncommon for succession and treason to be discussed in the same statute because the two were often intertwined. Tudor succession law was so problematic that Tudor monarchs liked to add in provisions making it treason (the most serious and severely punished crime) for anyone to question the laws of succession that they established. Nevertheless, the fact that the statute was labeled a treason act suggests that it cannot be viewed as a mere revision of one of the previous acts of succession.

Neither can the 1571 Treason Act be an express repeal of a previous succession act because it contains no language stating that it is repealing any previous law, either of succession or treason or any other type of law. Thus, it added to the law but did not overtly subtract anything from it. Therefore, the only possible way that the 1571 Treason Act could alter the law of succession would be if some provision in it were in direct conflict with a succession provision in the Third Act of Succession.

Queen Elizabeth and her advisors were so wary of plots to overthrow her that Parliament passed a variety of treason statutes during her reign—ten of them by the year 1581.59 The 1571 Act declared, among other things, that anyone who pretended to the crown was a traitor. Furthermore, anyone who denied the right of the Queen and Parliament, jointly, to name her successor would be held a traitor. This was perhaps a subtle hint that the Queen and Parliament did not feel bound to follow Henry VIII’s will, which had already laid out a course of succession in the event that Elizabeth should die childless.60 It also declared anyone a traitor who should state that any person was the Queen’s rightful successor, unless Parliament and the Queen had so decreed. But this last provision contained a peculiar exception:

Whosoever shall hereafter . . . declare . . . at any time before the same be by Act of Parliament of this Realm, established and affirmed, that any one particular person . . . is or ought to be the right Heir & Successor to . . . the Queen’s Majesty . . . except the same be the natural issue of her Majesty’s Body . . . shall for the first Offence suffer imprisonment . . . .61

The peculiar exception is the phrase “natural issue of her Majesty’s Body.” The “natural” issue of the Queen’s body, as opposed to the “lawful” issue, could include an illegitimate child. This is the phrase that leads to assertions that the succession law was changed in 1571 to allow royal bastards on the throne.

But, as stated earlier, the treason statute did not purport to be a revision of any succession act, nor did it expressly repeal any succession act. Therefore, the Treason Act could only affect the laws of succession if it were irreconcilable with some succession provision— that is, if the two provisions simply could not coexist simultaneously. Therefore, let us take a look at the relevant provision from the Third Act of Succession, which was still operative during Elizabeth’s reign, and compare it to the provision in the 1571 Treason Act that is said to allow royal bastards to inherit the crown:

Third Act of Succession, 1544
For default of [Mary’s] issue the . . . Crown . . . shall be to the Lady Elizabeth . . . and to the heirs of the body of the said Lady Elizabeth lawfully begotten.

Treason Act, 1571
Whosoever shall hereafter . . . declare . . . at any time before the same be by Act of Parliament of this Realm, established and affirmed, that any one particular person . . . is or ought to be the right Heir & Successor to . . . the Queen’s Majesty . . . except the same be the natural issue of her Majesty’s Body . . . shall for the first Offence suffer imprisonment.
Are the two provisions in direct conflict?

The 1544 provision states that if Mary should die without children, the crown would then go to Elizabeth and to the heirs of her body lawfully begotten. According to this passage, children of Elizabeth could inherit the throne only if they were born in wedlock.

The 1571 provision states that anyone commits treason who says that any person is the successor to the Queen, unless that person has been designated the successor by the Queen and Parliament. It contains an exception: namely, that it is all right to say that a person is the successor to the Queen if that person is the Queen’s natural child. Therefore, the 1571 Act, at most, allowed a person to say that a natural child of the Queen (which could include a bastard) should be her successor without the speaker being punished for saying so.

The 1544 Act controlled who could ascend the throne. The 1571 Act defined what one could say about the succession, which was very little indeed. But the 1571 Act has no language that expressly provides that an illegitimate child has a place in the line of succession. It contains nothing that directly conflicts with the 1544 Act, so it is possible for the two acts to coexist. One could require that any of the Queen’s children be born in wedlock before they would be eligible for the crown without having to punish someone who said that any natural child of the Queen should be in the line of succession.

To use an analogy from modern law, the United States Constitution provides that, if one is to be President, he or she must be at least thirty-five years old.62 But suppose you knew someone who you thought should be President despite his or her being only thirty. Could you state your opinion on this subject without being punished? Yes, because American law generally allows free expression of political opinions. But would your freedom to state your opinion change the rule that the President has to be thirty-five ? No.

Likewise, it was the 1544 Act that defined who could inherit the crown: the Queen’s lawful issue. The 1571 Act allowed a person to express an opinion that a royal bastard could inherit the crown, but it didn’t go beyond that to provide that a royal bastard actually could inherit the crown. The two provisions are not irreconcilable. Those who argue that the 1571 Treason Act allowed a royal bastard to ascend the throne have simply misread the law.
Besides, as the foregoing historical and legal analysis has shown, Parliament and the monarch could simply declare a person a bastard or not. Parliament had bastardized and un-bastardized both Mary and Elizabeth. Parliament had declared that Elizabeth was “lawfully descended and come of the Blood royal” without ever explaining how that could be when her mother’s marriage to the King was invalid. Indeed, Elizabeth’s grandfather, Henry VII, the first Tudor king, would have had no plausible claim to royal blood had it not been for Parliamentary declarations of legitimacy on both sides of his family tree.63

Therefore, if Parliament and the Queen had wanted to put a particular illegitimate person in the line of succession, the first thing to do would have been to proclaim that person legitimate.64 This would have been much more politically practical than declaring that bastards generally, even royal ones, could inherit the crown—a concept that went against some of the most deeply ingrained biases in
Brief Chronicles IV (2012-13) 53
English law and custom.
Queen Elizabeth and her advisors did not propose the section of the treason statute that spoke of the Queen’s natural issue. Thomas Norton, a Puritan member of Parliament, proposed this language.65 The Queen had at first disliked the treason bill and thought it unnecessary because she already felt herself protected under the law as it existed.66 When the bill was discussed in Parliament, the most hotly debated issue was whether the treason provisions should be enforced retroactively; eventually, Parliament determined that they shouldn’t.67 None of this suggests that the Queen and her closest advisors had an ulterior purpose for the bill of paving the way for royal bastards to be kings.
But was there any significance to Parliament’s referring to the Queen’s “natural issue” in the treason statute, rather than her “lawful issue”? Probably not. The drafters of the statutory language were still probably imagining a scenario in which the Queen would marry and produce children. They may have thought it presumptuous to suggest that any natural child of Her Majesty would be anything other than a lawful child.
Besides, since the operative language dealt only with which topics of written and spoken speech were treasonous, not with who could inherit the throne, it made little difference in that context whether one said “natural” or “lawful.” Theoretically, the statute allowed one to say that if the Queen had an illegitimate child (hypothetically, of course), that child could become king or queen.
If one were to assert, however, that a certain person was the Queen’s illegitimate child and therefore had a right to the throne, that might be going too far. Although accusing the Queen of actually having borne an illegitimate child might not violate the 1571 statute, it might make one guilty of sedition under the common law. Sedition laws, which were among the vaguest criminal laws ever devised, were used to punish people who defamed a member of the royal family or the government.68 These would serve quite well to justify punishing anyone who was foolish enough to declare that the Virgin Queen had borne a bastard child.69
Conclusion
The choice of the phrase “natural issue” over “lawful issue” in the 1571 Treason Act had almost no practical effect. It didn’t allow for bastards to inherit the crown; all it did was to leave a little wiggle room about what one could say about the succession. Most of those who have found great significance in the wording, both then and now, have done so because they have read much more into the statute than it actually says.
Regnier - Tudor Succession 54
Endnotes
1 13 Eliz., c. 1. [Citation of a statute consists of (1) year of the monarch’s reign during which the statute was enacted, followed by (2) name of the monarch, followed by (3) chapter number of the particular statute. Thus, 13 Eliz., c. 1 would be the first statute passed in the 13th year of Elizabeth’s reign. Statutes cited in this article are found in Statutes of the Realm, an authoritative collection of acts of Parliament from its earliest days (c. 1235) up to 1714. It was published, at the behest of George III, between 1810 and 1825, as a series of nine volumes. Spelling and typography have been modernized for purposes of this article.]
2 Paul H. Altrocchi, MD, “A Royal Shame: The origins and history of the Prince Tudor theory,” Shakespeare Matters 4, no. 4 (Summer 2005): 13.
3 Paul Streitz, Oxford, Son of Queen Elizabeth I (Darien, CT: Oxford Institute Press, 2001), 100–01.
4 Charles Beauclerk, Shakespeare’s Lost Kingdom (New York: Grove Press, 2010), 40.
5 William Camden, The Historie Of The Most Renowned And Victorious Princesse Elizabeth, Late Queene Of England (1630), quoted in Christopher Paul, “The ‘Prince Tudor’ Dilemma: Hip Thesis, Hypothesis, or Old Wives’ Tale?,” The Oxfordian, 5 (2002): 57 (spelling modernized).
6 Originally entitled, The copy of a letter written by a Master of Art of Cambridge to his friend in London (1584). First published as Leicester’s Commonwealth in 1641.
7 I.e., property consisting of land or buildings.
8 See B.J. Sokol & Mary Sokol, Shakespeare’s Legal Language (London: Athlone Press, 2000) 23–31, for a discussion of the laws of bastardy and their use in Shakespeare’s works.
9 Sokol, 25 (emphasis added).
10 William Shakespeare, Richard III (3.5.86–88), Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1974), 735. Nearly every Shakespeare play has some reference to bastardy, even if it is no more than a reference to some character as “bastard,” “half blooded,” “misbegotten,” or “whoreson.” Sokol, 26.
11 Sokol, 25.
Brief Chronicles IV (2012-13) 55
12 Sokol, 25.
13 Sokol, 25.
14 See Sokol, 289–307, for a discussion of precontracts in Shakespeare’s works.
15 Quoted in Tracy Bryce, “Titulus Regius: The Title of the King,” http://home.cogeco.ca/~richardiii/Titulus Regius.htm, May 2008 (emphasis added). The Titulus Regius does not appear in the statute books because Henry VII, on supplanting Richard III as king, ordered it suppressed and all copies of it destroyed.
16 William I, or William the Conqueror (ruled 1066–1087), had been born illegitimate, but he gained the English throne through conquest (hence, the name) rather than inheritance.
17 The Charter of Liberties, promulgated in 1100 by Henry I, attempted to bind the king to certain laws regarding the treatment of church officials and nobles, although monarchs tended to ignore the charter.
18 Thomas Smith, De Republica Anglorum (1583), ed. L. Alston (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1906), 63.
19 Edna Zwick Boris, Shakespeare’s English Kings, the People, and the Law: A Study in the Relationship Between the Tudor Constitution and the English History Plays (Cranbury, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1978), 36.
20 Boris, 38.
21 Boris, 38.
22 The first statute Parliament passed after Edward II’s son, Edward III, became king, detailed the evil influence that Edward II’s favorites, Hugh Despenser (Spenser), the Elder and the Younger, had had upon the former king. 1 Edw. III, St. 1, c. 1–3 (1326–27).
23 Nigel Saul, Richard II (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), 17. Richard’s father, Edward of Woodstock (known posthumously as the “Black Prince”—possibly because of his black shield), was Edward III’s eldest son. Before the Black Prince died in 1376, he wrung from his father a promise that Richard would be the next king. Thus, the crown bypassed Edward III’s still-living sons and went straight to his grandson.
24 Saul, 418–22. As historian G.R. Elton has said of the kingship, as of 1399 and after, “usurpation by force of arms had taken the place of legitimacy.” G.R. Elton, The Parliament of England, 1559–1581 (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1986), 357.
25 John A. Wagner, Encyclopedia of the Wars of the Roses (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2001), 1.
26 1 Henry VII, preamble (“[Be it] ordained . . . by authority of this Present parliament that the inheritance of the Crowns of the Realms of England and of France . . . be, rest, remain, and abide in the most Royal person of our now Sovereign Lord King Henry the VII and in the heirs of his body lawfully coming . . . .”).
27 See Richard K. Neumann, Jr. & Sheila Simon, Legal Writing (New York: Aspen Publishers, 2008), 21–24, on analyzing statutes. Note that these rules for
Regnier - Tudor Succession 56
interpreting statutes are still valid today.
28 See American Jurisprudence 73, 2nd ed. (2012), Statutes §§ 124, 126; Neumann & Simon, 60 (“Writing about a statutory question focuses on the words of the statute because a legislature signals its intent primarily through the words it enacts”).
29 Neumann & Simon, 60 (“Statutes on the same subject . . . are to be construed together”).
30 Neumann & Simon, 60 (“Because of the chaotic nature of legislative work, legislative history can be incomplete and internally contradictory”).
31 See William S. Jordan, “Legislative History and Statutory Interpretation: The Relevance of English Practice,” University of San Francisco Law Review, 29 (1994), 2 (noting the English practice of refusing to consider legislative history in interpreting statutes).
32 25 Hen. VIII, c. 22.
33 The statute declared anyone a traitor who impugned Henry VIII’s marriage to Queen Anne or asserted that Henry’s children by Anne could not inherit the crown.
34 The statute prohibited marriage between people who were already related, either by blood or by marriage, as laid down in the Bible’s Book of Leviticus. This was clearly a retrospective attempt to justify the annulment of Henry VIII’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon, the widow of Henry’s elder brother, Arthur.
35 25 Hen. VIII, c. 22.
36 One tetralogy consists of the plays Richard II; Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2; and Henry V; the other tetralogy consists of the plays Henry VI, Parts 1, 2, and 3; and Richard III.
37 25 Hen. VIII, c. 22.
38 25 Hen. VIII, c. 22.
39 25 Hen. VIII, c. 22 (emphasis added).
40 Neumann & Simon, 43 (“If the two [statutes] cannot be reconciled, dates matter. A later statute prevails over the earlier one”).
41 28 Hen. VIII, c. 7.
42 The Act also repealed 26 Hen. VIII, c. 2, which had ratified the form of the oath that the King’s subjects were required to take in vowing to obey the First Act of Succession.
43 28 Hen. VIII, c. 7. Since the entire First Act had been repealed in its entirety, the Second Act contained new provisions on such subjects as treason and the rules of consanguinity and affinity, somewhat modified from their forms in the First Act to apply to the new circumstances.
44 Anne Boleyn’s treason was based on alleged adulterous acts.
45 28 Hen. VIII, c. 7. The marriage to Anne Boleyn was considered “never good” because Henry had previously had sexual relations with Anne’s sister, Mary Boleyn, making the marriage to Anne incestuous from the start. This was a new, and rather tortured, interpretation of the laws of affinity, which had before deemed a marriage incestuous only when the couple were already
Brief Chronicles IV (2012-13) 57
related due to a previous marriage (not previous non-marital intercourse). See Stanford E. Lehmberg, The Later Parliaments of Henry VIII, 1536–1547 (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1977), 2, 22.
46 “If any person or persons . . . by words . . . or act . . . do . . . any thing . . . for the interruption, repeal or [annulling] of this Act . . . or to the peril, slander, or [disinheritance] of any of the issues and heirs of your Highness, as being limited by this Act to inherit and to be inheritable to the Crown . . . then every such person or persons . . . shall be adjudged high traitors . . . .” 28 Hen. VIII, c. 7.
47 It has been suggested that Henry VIII might have used this power to make his acknowledged bastard son, Henry FitzRoy, Duke of Richmond (1519–1536), heir to the throne. But the possibility became moot when the young man died, probably of tuberculosis, at age 17, around the time the Second Act of Succession became law. See Lehmberg, 20.
48 Henry VIII provided in his will that if his children, Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth, should all die without issue, the next in line for the crown would be the descendants of his younger sister Mary, who had been Queen of France. This went against the common law, which would have placed the descendants of his older sister Margaret, who had been Queen of Scotland, ahead of the younger sister’s line. Ironically, however, the older sister’s line prevailed when Margaret’s great-grandson, James VI of Scotland, succeeded Queen Elizabeth and became James I of England. This result was probably due more to political realities than to faithful adherence to the common law. Of course, Parliament immediately enacted a statute proclaiming James “our only lawful and rightful liege Lord and Sovereign . . . .” 1 Jac. I, c. 1 (1603–04).
49 This clause “was of very doubtful constitutional validity . . . .” Lehmberg, 24.
50 35 Hen. VIII, c. 1.
51 35 Hen. VIII, c. 1 (emphasis added).
52 Lehmberg interprets the statute as “tacitly” recognizing the legitimacy of both Mary and Elizabeth. Lehmberg, 194. Mary had a possible legal loophole that Elizabeth didn’t have, namely, that if the parents married in good faith and the marriage was later annulled because of consanguinity or affinity, the child was still legitimate under church law. Since Henry and Katherine’s marriage was annulled because of affinity (Katherine was the widow of Henry’s elder brother), it could be argued that Mary remained legitimate. See Lehmberg, 20; Sokol, 25.
53 See Neumann & Simon, 60 (“Statutes in derogation of the common law are to be narrowly construed”).
54 1 Mary, St. 2, c. 1.
55 1 Eliz., c. 3.
56 1 Eliz., c. 3.
57 A very short statute of the 1558–59 Parliament (1 Eliz., c. 23) restored Elizabeth “in blood” to her mother, Anne Boleyn, and thereby allowed Elizabeth to inherit from her mother. This was necessary because Anne Boleyn had
Regnier - Tudor Succession 58
been convicted of treason, and children of traitors suffered “corruption of blood” and could not inherit from their traitorous parents. See Black’s Law Dictionary, 9th ed. (St. Paul: West Publ., 2009), 397. But the statute did not nullify Anne Boleyn’s treason.
58 “An Act whereby certain Offences be made Treason,” 13 Eliz., c. 1.
59 See John Bellamy, The Tudor Law of Treason: An Introduction (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1979), 69.
60 Henry VIII’s will would have placed the descendants of Henry’s sister Mary on the throne. See note 48, above.
61 13 Eliz., c. 1.
62 U.S. Const., art. II, § 1.
63 Henry VII’s claim to the throne came from his mother’s side of the family. Lady Margaret Beaufort, his mother, was a great-granddaughter of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster (third son of Edward III) and his third wife Katherine Swynford. Katherine had been Gaunt’s mistress for about 25 years. When they married in 1396, they already had four children, including Margaret Beaufort’s grandfather, John Beaufort. Gaunt’s children by Katherine Swynford were legitimized by Richard II’s letters patent, an Act of Parliament, and a papal decree. Henry IV declared that the Beaufort line, while legitimate, could not inherit the throne. But by 1485, when Henry VII ascended the throne, John of Gaunt’s other legitimate descendants had died out. Henry VII’s father, Edmund Tudor, was the child of a secret marriage (some say an illicit union) between Owen Tudor and Henry V’s widow, Catherine of Valois. Edmund Tudor was created Earl of Richmond in 1452 by Henry VI, his half-brother, and formally declared legitimate by Parliament. See Neville Williams, The Life and Times of Henry VII (London: Book Club Associates, 1973), 17–18.
64 Even then, it would have taken a specific act of Parliament to place such a person in the line of succession.
65 Bellamy, 64.
66 Elton, 182.
67 Bellamy, 64.
68 See Black’s Law Dictionary, 1479.
69 John Stubbs was convicted of sedition for publishing, in 1578, his opinions that the Queen should not marry a Catholic foreigner and that she was too old to marry. The Queen was dissuaded from imposing the death penalty; instead, she punished Stubbs by having his right hand cut off.

Accession : The Peasant's Revolt of 1381

.





The harsh social inequities of the Middle Ages and Medieval England form the background for this film. By focusing on the Peasant's Revolt of 1381, the film examines the grim reality of life in the Middle Ages.



Friday 7 July 2017

Accession : "Tyranny is Dead! Liberty, Freedom, and Enfranchisement!"


The Assassination of Julius Caesar



Michael Parenti
The Assassination of Julius Caesar: A People’s History of Ancient Rome
New Press, New York, 2003, pp276, £12.95

THIS is a gem of a book. Michael Parenti presents the main outlines of the last years of the Roman Republic, covering the period from Tiberius Gracchus’ election as tribune in 133 BCE (Before the Christian Era) to the assumption of power by Augustus (Julius Caesar’s nephew) in 27. In the process, he gives an account of the major social struggles that took place, and he provides a balanced assessment of Julius Caesar’s role as defender of the lower orders in the Roman state. I cannot remember reading a better introduction to this decisive phase of ancient Roman history: the book deserves an honoured place alongside Daniel de Leon’s Two Pages from Roman History, F.A. Ridley’s Spartacus, and the chapter on Rome in GEM de Ste Croix’s The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek World (Duckworth, 1983, chapter 6, pp. 327–408).

As one surveys the events leading up to Augustus’ elevation to the office of Princeps, that is, of the Roman imperial power, one is bound to ask what caused the overthrow of the Republic. Our ‘gentleman historians’ – the phrase is Parenti’s – tend to confine themselves to identifying the members of the First Triumvirate (or Gang of Three) – Caesar, Pompey and Crassus – and emphasise Caesar’s personal ambition. There is no doubt that Julius Caesar had a high opinion of his own capacities (not without reason), but who was it who allowed the Triumvirs to seize power in the first place, and who forced Caesar to cross the Rubicon in 49 BCE? To answer these questions, we need to look at the role of the Roman governing classes in the period under review.

The counter-revolutionary dictator Sulla, after he had rearranged the constitution in order to increase the powers of the slave-owning aristocracy, is said to have declared: ‘I have put the Senate in the saddle: let us see if it can ride.’ Unfortunately, that august assembly of ‘conscript fathers’ (patres conscripti) proved wholly unequal to the task. One of the chief merits of Parenti’s book is the way in which it brings out the sheer greed and short-sighted political intolerance of these Roman conservatives, the so-called ‘Optimates’ or ‘best men’. (A modern parallel appears in the inflated earnings of US corporate executives and entrepreneurs, and the ruthless methods used by their political representatives to defend these.) Despite the miseries caused by their policies, Messrs Senators absolutely refused to make any concessions to demands for reform backed by those less fortunately placed. They were particularly opposed to any plans for land reform – a necessary measure in order to protect the Roman peasants forced off the land in this period: on some eight separate occasions between 133 and 49 the Senate set its face against any land reform whatever – even for veterans who had contributed to Rome’s military victories and who were looking for means of support at the end of their period of service. The Romans had no police force to speak of, and, as far as I am aware, no regular policy of imprisonment for offences against the state: the traditional Roman aristocratic method of dealing with dangerous political opponents was one of assassination. As Parenti explains, ‘just about every leader of the Middle and Late Republics who took up the popular cause met a violent end’ (p. 81).

Maybe that was why Caesar decided, in the face of senatorial opposition to his compromise proposals, that he had no choice but to march on Rome in defiance of the constitution in 49.

Parenti is especially illuminating in what he has to say about the notorious ‘Conspiracy of Catiline’, which was supposedly extinguished by Cicero in 63. The Senators backed Cicero as a candidate for the consulship in the elections of 64 because Catiline (L. Sergius Catilina) had gone over to the popular party (such people were known as Populares) around 65 and his election had to be prevented. The Roman historian Q. Sallustius Crispus (otherwise known as Sallust) has left us an account of what followed, but Parenti shows that this account, which is based uncritically on Cicero’s contemporary accusations, is of questionable veracity and trustworthiness. 

A plausible alternative view is that Cicero invented the whole story of a succession of plots organised by Catiline and eventually forced him into rebellion. 

If so, the great orator and moralist was not above using what Plato would have called an ‘agathon pseudon’ or ‘noble lie’ in the defence of the Roman governing élite, into whose ranks he had been admitted.

Catiline’s alleged co-conspirators were condemned to death by the Senate, and were executed without trial. Among a minority opposing this unconstitutional motion was one C. Julius Caesar. In 60 BCE, Caesar, Pompey and Crassus formed a three-man alliance against the conservative Senators. As Parenti explains:

Pompey had the prestige of a war hero and presumably the backing of his veterans, Crassus had the money, and Caesar had the support of the plebs [lower citizenry]. Together they challenged the optimates and emerged for a time as the dominant political force. (p. 120)

The Triumvirs ruled the roost until 53 when Crassus was killed waging war against Parthia. At this point it was not Caesar’s ambitions which caused problems, but someone else’s. In Shakespeare’s words: ‘The noble Brutus hath told you Caesar was ambitious … Knew you not Pompey?’ (Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 2, lines 78–9, and Act I, Scene 1, line 37)

Pompey (who conferred on himself the epithet ‘Magnus’) let himself be won over by the conservatives, who persuaded the Senate to designate him sole consul – another violation of the constitution – in 52, and extended his command in Spain for a further five years. Thus each side had armed forces at its disposal should they be needed – Caesar was still proconsul in Gaul.

At this point, Caesar proposed a compromise: both he and Pompey should resign their commands, and the struggle could continue on the electoral front. The Senate initially approved the plan, but the conservative die-hards were not happy: they feared that Caesar would win the contest on these terms, and succeeded in persuading the Senate to pass an emergency decree calling on Caesar to disband his army forthwith. We all know the sequel.

The popular measures put through by Caesar in his last years are somewhat less well known. As Parenti tells us, 

  • he secured land for his veterans and distributed estates around Capua to some 20,000 poor Roman families. 
  • A programme of public works was begun, large landowners were required to reserve a third of their labour force for the employment of free Romans. 
  • Caesar pushed through rent reductions, 
  • Obtained a decrease in payments wrung from the provinces, 
  • Reduced debt burdens, 
  • Granted Jews the right to practice their religion legally, and 
  • Gave Roman citizenship to any foreign doctors or liberal arts professors wishing to reside in Rome. He took care that his measures were approved by the Comitia Tributa (the popular Assembly of Roman Tribes) and 
  • Arranged for the publication of all Senatorial and Assembly decrees. 
  • He also granted to the citizens of Athens the right to restore their democratic constitution if they so desired.



Was Caesar aiming at monarchy? Parenti wisely leaves the question open, noting, however, aspects of the Julian regime which point in this direction, such as Caesar’s assumption of the post of Prefect of Morals (praefectus moribus) and his insistence on personally appointing half of Rome’s magistrates (bypassing the Senate, which had the constitutional right to appoint). 

He took care to institute a cult of his person, wearing regal attire [PURPLE], having coins stamped with his image, and so on (see page 163). 

But this evidence does not settle the issue. Nor does the episode of his being offered a crown and refusing it bear necessarily the interpretation given it by the conspirators in Shakespeare’s play: ‘for all that, to my thinking, he would fain have had it’ (Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene 2, lines 237–8).

The scene, easy to rehearse, could have been designed as a test of public opinion, similar to a similar form of ‘opinion poll’ used in another of Shakespeare’s plays, Richard III: ‘How now, my lord, what say the citizens?’

We shall never know for sure whether Caesar would have made himself king, because he was struck down before such a plan could be implemented. (Some interesting speculation as to the ease with which the assassination was carried out was voiced in a recent television programme this year, which carried the suggestion that Caesar was suffering from temporal lobe epilepsy at the end, and consequently, suffering as he was, deliberately failed to take measures to thwart the conspiracy.) The conspirators were not won over by Caesar’s conciliatory treatment of them as his former enemies: they could not forgive him for his popular measures, so they resorted to the time-honoured method used against the Gracchi and other dangerous opponents. 

But, having disposed of Caesar, they could not win over the populace: the result was another triumvirate (Octavian, Antonius and Lepidus), another civil war and the final extinction of republican liberty. 

As Parenti concludes, the slave-owners were ultimately prepared to accept one-man rule provided that the ruler was willing to protect their precious privileges, which was exactly what Augustus in practice did. In that respect he was thoroughly ‘sound’.





Marcus Brutus 
(legendary, died 42 B.C.E.) 

By Plutarch 

Written 75 A.C.E. 

Translated by John Dryden

Marcus Brutus was descended from that Junius Brutus to whom the ancient Romans erected a statue of brass in the capitol among the images of their kings with a drawn sword in his hand, in remembrance of his courage and resolution in expelling the Tarquins and destroying the monarchy. But that ancient Brutus was of a severe and inflexible nature, like steel of too hard a temper, and having never had his character softened by study and thought, he let himself be so far transported with his rage and hatred against tyrants that, for conspiring with them, he proceeded to the execution even of his own sons. But this Brutus, whose life we now write, having to the goodness of his disposition added the improvements of learning and the study of philosophy, and having stirred up his natural parts, of themselves grave and gentle, by applying himself to business and public affairs, seems to have been of a temper exactly framed for virtue; insomuch that they who were most his enemies upon account of his conspiracy against Caesar, if in that whole affair there was any honourable or generous part, referred it wholly to Brutus, and laid whatever was barbarous and cruel to the charge of Cassius, Brutus's connection and familiar friend, but not his equal in honesty and pureness of purpose. His mother, Servilia, was of the family of Servilius Ahala, who when Spurius Maelius worked the people into a rebellion and designed to make himself king, taking a dagger under his arm, went forth into the market-place, and upon pretence of having some private business with him, came up close to him, and, as he bent his head to hear what he had to say, struck him with his dagger and slew him. And thus much, as concerns his descent by the mother's side, is confessed by all; but as for his father's family, they who for Caesar's murder bore any hatred or ill-will to Brutus say that he came not from that Brutus who expelled the Tarquins, there being none of his race left after the execution of his two sons; but that his ancestor was a plebeian, son of one Brutus, a steward, and only rose in the latest times to office or dignity in the commonwealth. But Posidonius the philosopher writes that it is true indeed what the history relates, that two of the sons of Brutus who were of men's estate were put to death, but that a third, yet an infant, was left alive, from whom the family was propagated down to Marcus Brutus; and further, that there were several famous persons of this house in his time whose looks very much resembled the statue of Junius Brutus. But of this subject enough. 

Cato the philosopher was brother to Servilia, the mother of Brutus, and he it was whom of all the Romans his nephew most admired and studied to imitate, and he afterwards married his daughter Porcia. Of all the sects of the Greek philosophers, though there was none of which he had not been a hearer, and in which he had not made some proficiency, yet he chiefly esteemed the Platonists; and not much approving of the modern and middle Academy, as it is called, he applied himself to the study of the ancient. He was all his lifetime a great admirer of Antiochus of the city of Ascalon, and took his brother Aristus into his own house for his friend and companion, a man for his learning inferior indeed to many of the philosophers, but for the evenness of his temper and steadiness of his conduct equal to the best. As for Empylus, of whom he himself and his friends often make mention in their epistles, as one that lived with Brutus, he was a rhetorician, and has left behind him a short but well-written history of the death of Caesar, entitled Brutus. 

In Latin, he had by exercise attained a sufficient skill to be able to make public addresses and to plead a cause; but in Greek, he must be noted for affecting the sententious and short Laconic way of speaking in sundry passages of his epistles; as when, in the beginning of the war, he wrote thus to the Pergamenians: "I hear you have given Dolabella money; if willingly, you must own you have injured me; if unwillingly, show it by giving willingly to me." And another time to the Samians: "Your counsels are remiss and your performances slow; what think ye will be the end?" And of the Patareans thus: "The Xanthians, suspecting my kindness, have made their country the grave of their despair; the Patareans, trusting themselves to me, enjoy in all points their former liberty; it is in your power to choose the judgment of the Patareans on the pretence of the Xanthians." And this is the style for which some of his letters are to be noted. 

When he was but a very young man, he accompanied his uncle Cato to Cyprus, when he was sent there against Ptolemy. But when Ptolemy killed himself, Cato, being by some necessary business detained in the isle of Rhodes, had already sent one of his friends, named Canidius, to take into his care and keeping the treasure of the king; but presently, not feeling sure of his honesty, he wrote to Brutus to sail immediately for Cyprus out of Pamphylia, where he then was staying to refresh himself, being but just recovered of a fit of sickness. He obeyed his orders, but with a great deal of unwillingness, as well out of respect to Canidius, who was thrown out of this employment by Cato with so much disgrace, as also because he esteemed such a commission mean and unsuitable to him, who was in the prime of his youth, and given to books and study. Nevertheless, applying himself to the business, he behaved himself so well in it that he was highly commended by Cato, and having turned all the goods of Ptolemy into ready money, he sailed with the greatest part of it in his own ship to Rome. 

But upon the general separation into two factions, when, Pompey and Caesar taking up arms against one another, the whole empire was turned into confusion, it was commonly believed that he would take Caesar's side; for his father in past time had been put to death by Pompey. But he, thinking it his duty to prefer the interest of the public to his own private feelings, and judging Pompey's to be the better cause, took part with him; though formerly he used not so much as to salute or take any notice of Pompey, if he happened to meet him, esteeming it a pollution to have the least conversation with the murderer of his father. But now, looking upon him as the general of his country, he placed himself under his command, and set sail for Cilicia in quality of lieutenant to Sestius, who had the government of that province. But finding no opportunity there of doing any great service, and hearing that Pompey and Caesar were now near one another and preparing for the battle upon which all depended, he came of his own accord to Macedonia to partake in the danger. At his coming it is said that Pompey was so surprised and so pleased that, rising from his chair in the sight of all who were about him, he saluted and embraced him, as one of the chiefest of his party. All the time that he was in the camp, excepting that which he spent in Pompey's company, he employed in reading and in study, which he did not neglect even the day before the great battle. It was the middle of summer, and the heat was very great, the camp having been pitched near some marshy ground, and the people that carried Brutus's tent were a long while before they came. Yet though upon these accounts he was extremely harassed and out of order, having scarcely by the middle of the day anointed himself and eaten a sparing meal, whilst most others were either laid to sleep or taken up with the thoughts and apprehensions of what would be the issue of the fight, he spent his time until the evening in writing an epitome of Polybius. 

It is said that Caesar had so great a regard for him that he ordered his commanders by no means to kill Brutus in the battle, but to spare him, if possible, and bring him safe to him, if he would willingly surrender himself; but if he made any resistance, to suffer him to escape rather than do him any violence. And this he is believed to have done out of a tenderness to Servilia, the mother of Brutus; for Caesar had, it seems, in his youth been very intimate with her, and she passionately in love with him; and, considering that Brutus was born about that time in which their loves were at the highest, Caesar had a belief that he was his own child. The story is told that, when the great question of the conspiracy of Catiline, which had like to have been the destruction of the commonwealth, was debated in the senate, Cato and Caesar were both standing up, contending together on the decision to be come to; at which time a little note was delivered to Caesar from without, which he took and read silently to himself. Upon this, Cato cried out aloud, and accused Caesar of holding correspondence with and receiving letters from the enemies of the commonwealth; and when many other senators exclaimed against it, Caesar delivered the note as he had received it to Cato, who reading it found it to be a love-letter from his own sister Servilia, and threw it back again to Caesar with the words, "Keep it, you drunkard," and returned to the subject of the debate. So public and notorious was Servilia's love to Caesar. 

After the great overthrow at Pharsalia, Pompey himself having made his escape to the sea, and Caesar's army storming the camp, Brutus stole privately out by one of the gates leading to marshy ground full of water and covered with reeds, and, travelling through the night, got safe to Larissa. From Larissa he wrote to Caesar who expressed a great deal of joy to hear that he was safe, and, bidding him come, not only forgave him freely, but honoured and esteemed him among his chiefest friends. Now when nobody could give any certain account which way Pompey had fled, Caesar took a little journey along with Brutus, and tried what was his opinion herein, and after some discussion which passed between them, believing that Brutus's conjecture was the right one, laying aside all other thoughts, he set out directly to pursue him towards Egypt. But Pompey, having reached Egypt, as Brutus guessed his design was to do, there met his fate. 

Brutus in the meantime gained Caesar's forgiveness for his friend Cassius; and pleading also in defence of the king of the Lybians, though he was overwhelmed with the greatness of the crimes alleged against him, yet by his entreaties and deprecations to Caesar in his behalf, he preserved to him a great part of his kingdom. It is reported that Caesar, when he first heard Brutus speak in public, said to his friends, "I know not what this young man intends, but, whatever he intends, he intends vehemently." For his natural firmness of mind, not easily yielding, or complying in favour of every one that entreated his kindness, once set into action upon motives of right reason and deliberate moral choice, whatever direction it thus took, it was pretty sure to take effectively, and to work in such a way as not to fail in its object. No flattery could ever prevail with him to listen to unjust petitions: and he held that to be overcome by the importunities of shameless and fawning entreaties, though some compliment it with the name of modesty and bashfulness, was the worst disgrace a great man could suffer. And he used to say that he always felt as if they who could deny nothing could not have behaved well in the flower of their youth. 

Caesar, being about to make his expedition into Africa against Cato and Scipio, committed to Brutus the government of Cisalpine Gaul, to the great happiness and advantage of that province. For while people in other provinces were in distress with the violence and avarice of their governors, and suffered as much oppression as if they had been slaves and captives of war, Brutus, by his easy government, actually made them amends for their calamities under former rulers, directing moreover all their gratitude for his good deeds to Caesar himself; insomuch that it was a most welcome and pleasant spectacle to Caesar, when in his return he passed through Italy, to see the cities that were under Brutus's command, and Brutus himself increasing his honour and joining agreeably in his progress. 

Now several praetorships being vacant, it was all men's opinion that that of the chiefest dignity, which is called the praetorship of the city, would be conferred either upon Brutus or Cassius; and some say that, there having been some little difference upon former accounts between them, this competition set them much more at variance, though they were connected in their families, Cassius having married Junia, the sister of Brutus. Others say that the contention was raised between them by Caesar's doing, who had privately given each of them such hopes of his favour as led them on, and provoked them at last into this open competition and trial of their interest. Brutus had only the reputation of his honour and virtue to oppose to the many and gallant actions performed by Cassius against the Parthians. But Caesar, having heard each side, and deliberating about the matter among his friends, said, "Cassius has the stronger plea, but we must let Brutus be first praetor." So another praetorship was given to Cassius; the gaining of which could not so much oblige him, as he was incensed for the loss of the other. And in all other things Brutus was partaker of Caesar's power as much as he desired: for he might, if he had pleased, have been the chief of all his friends, and had authority and command beyond them all, but Cassius and the company he met with him drew him off from Caesar. Indeed, he was not yet wholly reconciled to Cassius, since that competition which was between them: but yet he gave ear to Cassius's friends, who were perpetually advising him not to be so blind as to suffer himself to be softened and won over by Caesar, but to shun the kindness and favours of a tyrant, which they intimated that Caesar showed him, not to express any honour to his merit or virtue, but to unbend his strength, and undermine his vigour of purpose. 

Neither was Caesar wholly without suspicion of him, nor wanted informers that accused Brutus to him; but he feared, indeed, the high spirit and the great character and the friends that he had, but thought himself secure in his moral disposition. When it was told him that Antony and Dolabella designed some disturbance, "It is not," said he, "the fat and the long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the lean," meaning Brutus and Cassius. And when some maligned Brutus to him, and advised him to beware of him, taking hold of his flesh with his hand, "What," he said, "do you think that Brutus will not wait out the time of this little body?" as if he thought none so fit to succeed him in his power as Brutus. And indeed it seems to be without doubt that Brutus might have been the first man in the commonwealth, if he had had patience but a little time to be second to Caesar, and would have suffered his power to decline after it was come to its highest pitch, and the fame of his great actions to die away by degrees. 

But Cassius, a man of a fierce disposition, and one that out of private malice, rather than love of the public, hated Caesar, not the tyrant, continually fired and stirred him up. Brutus felt the rule an oppression, but Cassius hated the ruler; and, among other reasons on which he grounded his quarrel against Caesar, the loss of his lions which he had procured when he was aedile-elect was one; for Caesar, finding these in Megara, when that city was taken by Calenus, seized them to himself. These beasts, they say, were a great calamity to the Megarians; for, when their city was just taken, they broke open the lions' dens, and pulled off their chains and let them loose that they might run upon the enemy that was entering the city; but the lions turned upon them themselves, and tore to pieces a great many unarmed persons running about, so that it was a miserable spectacle even to their enemies to behold. 

And this, some say, was the chief provocation that stirred up Cassius to conspire against Caesar; but they are much in the wrong. For Cassius had from his youth a natural hatred and rancour against the whole race of tyrants, which he showed when he was but a boy, and went to the same school with Faustus, the son of Sylla; for, on his boasting himself amongst the boys, and extolling the sovereign power of his father, Cassius rose up and struck him two or three boxes on the ear; which when the guardians and relations of Faustus designed to inquire into and to prosecute, Pompey forbade them, and, sending for both the boys together, examined the matter himself. And Cassius is then reported to have said thus, "Come, then, Faustus, dare to speak here those words that provoked me, that I may strike you again as I did before." Such was the disposition of Cassius. 

But Brutus was roused up and pushed on to the undertaking by many persuasions of his familiar friends, and letters and invitations from unknown citizens. For under the statue of his ancestor Brutus, that overthrew the kingly government, they wrote the words, "O that we had a Brutus now!" and, "O that Brutus were alive!" And Brutus's own tribunal, on which he sat as praetor, was filled each morning with writings such as these: "You are asleep, Brutus," and, "You are not a true Brutus." Now the flatterers of Caesar were the occasion of all this, who, among other invidious honours which they strove to fasten upon Caesar, crowned his statues by night with diadems, wishing to incite the people to salute him king instead of dictator. But quite the contrary came to pass, as I have more particularly related in the life of Caesar. 


When Cassius went about soliciting friends to engage in this design against Caesar, all whom he tried readily consented, if Brutus would be head of it; for their opinion was that the enterprise wanted not hands or resolution, but the reputation and authority of a man such as he was, to give as it were the first religious sanction, and by his presence, if by nothing else, to justify the undertaking; that without him they should go about this action with less heart, and should lie under greater suspicions when they had done it; for if their cause had been just and honourable, people would be sure that Brutus would not have refused it. Cassius, having considered these things with himself, went to Brutus and made him the first visit after their falling out; and after the compliments of reconciliation had passed, and former kindnesses were renewed between them, he asked him if he designed to be present on the calends of March, for it was discoursed, he said, that Caesar's friends intended then to move that he might be made king. 


When Brutus answered, that he would not be there, "But what," says Cassius, "if they should send for us?" 

"It will be my business, then," replied Brutus, "not to hold my peace, but to stand up boldly, and die for the liberty of my country." 
To which Cassius with some emotion answered, 

"But what Roman will suffer you to die? What, do you not know yourself, Brutus? Or do you think that those writings that you find upon your praetor's seat were put there by weavers and shopkeepers, and not by the first and most powerful men of Rome? From other praetors, indeed, they expect largesses and shows and gladiators, but from you they claim, as an hereditary debt, the exurpation of tyranny; they are all ready to suffer anything on your account, if you will but show yourself such as they think you are and expect you should be." 

Which said, he fell upon Brutus, and embraced him; and after this, they parted each to try their several friends. 



Sic Semper Tyrannis