Wolsey was expressing his grief to Henry at having failed in obtaining

either Margaret or Renée for him, when the king interrupted him:

"Console yourself, I shall marry Anne Boleyn." The cardinal remained

speechless for a moment. What would become of him, if the king placed

the crown of England on the head of the daughter and niece of his

greatest enemies? What would become of the church, if a second Anne of

Bohemia should ascend the throne? Wolsey threw himself at the feet of

his master, and entreated him to renounce so fatal a project.[697] It

was then no doubt that he remained (as he afterwards said) _an hour or

two_ on his knees before the king in his privy chamber,[698] but

without prevailing on Henry to give up his design. Wolsey, persuaded

that if he continued openly to oppose Henry's will, he would for ever

lose his confidence, dissembled his vexation, waiting an opportunity

to get rid of this unfortunate rival by some intrigue. He began by

writing to the pope, informing him that a young lady, brought up by

the queen of Navarre, and consequently tainted by the Lutheran heresy,

had captivated the king's heart;[699] and from that hour Anne Boleyn

became the object of the hatred and calumnies of Rome. But at the same

time, to conceal his intentions, Wolsey received Henry at a series of

splendid entertainments, at which Anne outshone all the ladies of the

court.

[697] Whose persuasion to the contrary, made to the king upon his

knees. Cavendish, p. 204.

[698] Ibid. p. 388.

[699] Meteren, Hist. of the Low Countries, folio, 20.

CHAPTER VII.

Bilney's Preaching--His arrest--Arthur's Preaching and

Imprisonment--Bilney's Examination--Contest between the

Judge and the Prisoner--Bilney's weakness and Fall--His

Terrors--Two Wants--Arrival of the Fourth Edition of the New

Testament--Joy among the Believers.

[Sidenote: BILNEY'S PREACHING.]

While these passions were agitating Henry's palace, the most moving

scenes, produced by Christian faith, were stirring the nation. Bilney,

animated by that courage which God sometimes gives to the weakest men,

seemed to have lost his natural timidity, and preached for a time with

an energy quite apostolic. He taught that all men should first

acknowledge their sins and condemn them, and then hunger and thirst

after that righteousness which Jesus Christ gives.[700] To this

testimony borne to the truth, he added his testimony against error.

"These five hundred years," he added, "there hath been no good pope;

and in all the times past we can find but fifty: for they have neither

preached nor lived well, nor conformably to their dignity; wherefore,

unto this day, they have borne the keys of simony."[701]

[700] Ut omnes primum peccata sua agnoscant et damnent, deinde

esuriant et sitiant justitiam illam. Foxe, iv. p. 634.

[701] Ibid. p. 627.

[Sidenote: BILNEY ARRESTED.]

As soon as he descended from the pulpit, this pious scholar, with his

friend Arthur, visited the neighbouring towns and villages. "The Jews

and Saracens would long ago have become believers," he once said at

Wilsdown, "had it not been for the idolatry of Christian men in

offering candles, wax, and money to stocks and stones." One day when

he visited Ipswich, where there was a Franciscan convent, he

exclaimed: "The cowl of St. Francis wrapped round a dead body hath no

power to take away sins.... _Ecce agnus Dei qui tollit peccata

mundi._" (John i, 29.) The poor monks, who were little versed in

Scripture, had recourse to the _Almanac_ to convict the _Bible_ of

error. "St. Paul did rightly affirm," said Friar John Brusierd, "that

there is but one mediator of God and man, because as yet there was no

_saint_ canonized or put into the calendar."--"Let us ask of the

Father in the name of the Son," rejoined Bilney, "and he will give

unto us."--"You are always speaking of the Father and never of the

_saints_," replied the friar; "you are like a man who has been looking

so long upon the sun that he can see nothing else."[702] As he uttered

these words the monk seemed bursting with anger. "If I did not know

that the saints would take everlasting vengeance upon you, I would

surely with these nails of mine be your death."[703] Twice in fact did

two monks pull him out of his pulpit. He was arrested and taken to

London.

[702] Foxe, iv. p. 629.

[703] Ibid. p. 630.

Arthur, instead of fleeing, began to visit the flocks which his friend

had converted. "Good people," said he, "if I should suffer persecution

for the preaching of the Gospel, there are seven thousand more that

would preach it as I do now. Therefore, good people! good people!"

(and he repeated these words several times in a sorrowful voice)

"think not that if these tyrants and persecutors put a man to death,

the preaching of the Gospel therefore is to be forsaken. Every

Christian man, yea every layman, is a priest. Let our adversaries

preach by the authority of the cardinal; others by the authority of

the university; others by the pope's; we will preach by the authority

of God. It is not the man who brings the word that saves the soul, but

the word which the man brings. Neither bishops nor popes have the

right to forbid any man to preach the Gospel;[704] and if they kill

him he is not a heretic but a martyr."[705] The priests were horrified

at such doctrines. In their opinion, there was no God out of their

church, no salvation out of their sacrifices. Arthur was thrown into

the same prison as Bilney.

[704] Ibid. p. 623.

[705] Collyer's Church History, vol. ii, p. 26.

[Sidenote: BILNEY AND ARTHUR BEFORE THE BISHOP.]

On the 27th of November 1527 the cardinal and the archbishop

Canterbury, with a great number of bishops, divines, and lawyers, met

in the chapter-house of Westminster, when Bilney and Arthur were

brought before them. But the king's prime minister thought it beneath

his dignity to occupy his time with miserable heretics. Wolsey had

hardly commenced the examination, when he rose, saying: "The affairs

of the realm call me away; all such as are found guilty, you will

compel them to abjure, and those who rebel you will deliver over to

the secular power." After a few questions proposed by the bishop of

London, the two accused men were led back to prison.

[Sidenote: BILNEY'S STRUGGLE.]

Abjuration or death--that was Wolsey's order. But the conduct of the

trial was confided to Tonstall; Bilney conceived some hope.[706] "Is

it possible," he said to himself, "that the bishop of London, the

friend of Erasmus, will gratify the monks?... I must tell him that it

was the Greek Testament of his learned master that led me to the

faith." Upon which the humble evangelist having obtained paper and

ink, set about writing to the bishop from his gloomy prison those

admirable letters which have been transmitted to posterity. Tonstall,

who was not a cruel man, was deeply moved, and then a strange struggle

took place: a judge wishing to save the prisoner, the prisoner

desiring to give up his life. Tonstall, by acquitting Bilney, had no

desire to compromise himself. "Submit to the church," said the bishop,

"for God speaks only through it." But Bilney, who knew that God speaks

in the Scriptures, remained inflexible. "Very well, then," said

Tonstall, taking up the prisoner's eloquent letters, "in discharge of

my conscience I shall lay these letters before the court." He hoped,

perhaps, that they would touch his colleagues, but he was deceived. He

determined, therefore, to make a fresh attempt. On the 4th of

December, Bilney was brought again before the court. "Abjure your

errors," said Tonstall. Bilney refusing by a shake of the head, the

bishop continued: "Retire into the next room and consider." Bilney

withdrew, and returning shortly after with joy beaming in his eyes,

Tonstall thought he had gained the victory. "You will return to the

church, then?" said he.... The doctor answered calmly: "_Fiat judicium

in nomine Domini_."[707] "Be quick," continued the bishop, "this is

the last moment, and you will be condemned." "_Hæc est dies quam fecit

Dominus_," answered Bilney, "_exultemus et lætemur in ea_!" (Psalm

cxviii, 24). Upon this Tonstall took off his cap, and said: "_In

nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.... Exsurgat Deus et

dissipentur inimici ejus!_" (Ps. lxviii, 1). Then making the sign of

the cross on his forehead and on his breast, he gave judgment: "Thomas

Bilney, I pronounce thee convicted of heresy." He was about to name

the penalty ... a last hope restrained him; he stopped: "For the rest

of the sentence we take deliberation until to-morrow." Thus was the

struggle prolonged between two men, one of whom desired to walk to the

stake, the other to bar the way as it were with his own body.

[706] In talem nunc me judicem incidisse gratulor. (Foxe, iv, p. 633.)

Now I congratulate myself that I have fallen into the hands of such a

judge.

[707] Let judgment be done in the name of the Lord.

"Will you return to the unity of the church?" asked Tonstall the next

day. "I hope I was never separated from the church," answered Bilney.

"Go and consult with some of your friends," said the bishop, who was

resolved to save his life; "I will give you till one o'clock in the

afternoon." In the afternoon Bilney made the same answer. "I will give

you two nights' respite to deliberate," said the bishop; "on Saturday

at nine o'clock in the forenoon, the court will expect a plain

definitive answer." Tonstall reckoned on the night with its dreams,

its anguish, and its terrors, to bring about Bilney's recantation.

[Sidenote: BILNEY'S FALL.]

This extraordinary struggle occupied many minds both in court and

city. Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII watched with interest the various

phases of this tragic history. What will happen? was the general

question. Will he give way? Shall we see him live or die? One day and

two nights still remained; everything was tried to shake the Cambridge

doctor. His friends crowded to his prison; he was overwhelmed with

arguments and examples; but an inward struggle, far more terrible than

those without, agitated the pious Bilney. "Whoever will save his soul

shall lose it," Christ had said. That selfish love of his soul, which

is found even in the advanced Christian,--that self, which after his

conversion had been not absorbed, but overruled by the Spirit of God,

gradually recovered strength in his heart, in the presence of disgrace

and death. His friends who wished to save him, not understanding that

the fallen Bilney would be Bilney no longer, conjured him with tears

to have pity on himself; and by these means his firmness was overcome.

The bishop pressed him, and Bilney asked himself: "Can a young soldier

like me know the rules of war better than an old soldier like

Tonstall? Or can a poor silly sheep know his way to the fold better

than the chief pastor of London?"[708] His friends quitted him

neither night nor day, and entangled by their fatal affection, he

believed at last that he had found a compromise which would set his

conscience at rest. "I will preserve my life," he said, "to dedicate

it to the Lord." This delusion had scarcely laid hold of his mind

before his views were confused, his faith was vailed, the Holy Ghost

departed from him, God gave him over to his carnal thoughts, and under

the pretext of being useful to Jesus Christ for many years, Bilney

disobeyed him at the present moment. Being led before the bishops on

the morning of Saturday the 7th of December, at nine o'clock, he fell

... (Arthur had fallen before him), and whilst the false friends who

had misled him hardly dared raise their eyes, the living church of

Christ in England uttered a cry of anguish. "If ever you come in

danger," said Latimer, "for God's quarrel, I would advise you, above

all things, to abjure all your friendships; leave not one unabjured.

It is they that shall undo you, and not your enemies. It was his very

friends that brought Bilney to it."[709]

[708] Foxe, iv. p. 638.

[709] Latimer's Sermons (Parker Society), p. 222.

On the following day (Sunday, 8th December) Bilney was placed at the

head of a procession, and the fallen disciple, bareheaded, with a

fagot on his shoulders, stood in front of St. Paul's cross, while a

priest from the pulpit exhorted him to repentance; after which he was

led back to prison.

What a solitude for the wretched man! At one time the cold darkness of

his cell appeared to him as a burning fire; at another he fancied he

heard accusing voices crying to him in the silence of the night.

Death, the very enemy he had wished to avoid, fixed his icy glance

upon him and filled him with fear. He strove to escape from the

horrible spectre, but in vain. Then the friends who had dragged him

into this abyss, crowded round and endeavoured to console him; but if

they gave utterance to any of Christ's gentle promises, Bilney started

back with affright and shrank to the farthest part of the dungeon,

with a cry "as though a man had run him through the heart with a

sword."[710] Having denied the word of God, he could no longer endure

to hear it. The curse of the Apocalypse: _Ye mountains, hide me from

the wrath of the Lamb!_ was the only passage of Scripture in harmony

with his soul. His mind wandered, the blood froze in his veins, he

sank under his terrors; he lost all sense, and almost his life, and

lay motionless in the arms of his astonished friends. "God," exclaimed

those unhappy individuals who had caused his fall, "God, by a just

judgment, delivers up to the tempests of their conscience all who

deny his truth."

[710] Ibid.

[Sidenote: BAYFIELD ARRESTED.]

This was not the only sorrow of the church. As soon as Richard

Bayfield, the late chamberlain of Bury, had joined Tyndale and Fryth,

he said to them: "I am at your disposal; you shall be my head and I

will be your hand; I will sell your books and those of the German

reformers in the Low Countries, France, and England." It was not long

indeed before he returned to London. But Pierson, the priest whom he

had formerly met in Lombard Street, found him again, and accused him

to the bishop. The unhappy man was brought before Tonstall. "You are

charged," said the prelate, "with having asserted that praise is due

to God alone, and not to saints or creatures."[711] Bayfield

acknowledged the charge to be true. "You are accused of maintaining

that every priest may preach the word of God by the authority of the

Gospel without the license of the pope or cardinals." This also

Bayfield acknowledged. A penance was imposed on him; and then he was

sent back to his monastery with orders to show himself there on the

25th of April. But he crossed the sea once more, and hastened to join

Tyndale.

[711] That all laud and praise should be given to God alone. Foxe, iv,

p. 682.

[Sidenote: FOURTH EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.]

The New Testaments, however, sold by him and others, remained in

England. At that time the bishops subscribed to suppress the

Scriptures, as so many persons have since done to circulate them; and,

accordingly, a great number of the copies brought over by Bayfield and

his friends were brought up.[712] A scarcity of food was erelong added

to the scarcity of the word of God; for as the cardinal was

endeavouring to foment a war between Henry and the emperor, the

Flemish ships ceased to enter the English ports. It was in consequence

of this that the lord mayor and aldermen of London hastened to express

their apprehensions to Wolsey almost before he had recovered from the

fatigues of his return from France. "Fear nothing," he told them; "the

king of France assured me, that if he had three bushels of wheat,

England should have two of them." But none arrived, and the people

were on the point of breaking out into violence, when a fleet of ships

suddenly appeared off the mouth of the Thames. They were German and

Flemish vessels laden with corn, in which the worthy people of the Low

Countries had also concealed the New Testament. An Antwerp bookseller,

named John Raimond or Ruremond, from his birthplace, had printed a

fourth edition more beautiful than the previous ones. It was enriched

with references and engravings on wood, and each page bordered with

red lines. Raimond himself had embarked on board one of the ships with

five hundred copies of his New Testament.[713] About Christmas 1527,

the book of God was circulated in England along with the bread that

nourishes the body. But certain priests and monks having discovered

the Scriptures among the sacks of corn, they carried several copies to

the bishop of London, who threw Raimond into prison. The greater part,

however, of the new edition escaped him. The New Testament was read

everywhere, and even the court did not escape the contagion. Anne

Boleyn, notwithstanding her smiling face, often withdrew to her closet

at Greenwich or at Hampton Court, to study the Gospel. Frank,

courageous, and proud, she did not conceal the pleasure she found in

such reading; her boldness astonished the courtiers, and exasperated

the clergy. In the city things went still farther: the New Testament

was explained in frequent conventicles, particularly in the house of

one Russell, and great was the joy among the faithful. "It is

sufficient only to enter London," said the priests, "to become a

heretic!" The Reformation was taking root among the people before it

arrived at the upper classes.

[712] Anderson, Annals of the Bible, i. p. 158.

[713] Foxe, v, p. 27.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Papacy intercepts the Gospel--The King consults Sir

Thomas More--Ecclesiastical Conferences about the

Divorce--The Universities--Clark--The Nun of Kent--Wolsey

decides to do the king's Will--Mission to the Pope--Four

Documents--Embarrassment of Charles V--Francis Philip at

Madrid--Distress and Resolution of Charles--He turns away

from the Reformation--Conference at the Castle of St.

Angelo--Knight arrives in Italy--His Flight--Treaty between

the Pope and the Emperor--Escape of the Pope--Confusion of

Henry VIII--Wolsey's Orders--His Entreaties.

[Sidenote: POPERY INTERCEPTS THE GOSPEL.]

The sun of the word of God, which daily grew brighter in the sky of

the sixteenth century, was sufficient to scatter all the darkness in

England; but popery, like an immense wall, intercepted its rays.

Britain had hardly received the Scriptures in Greek and Latin, and

then in English, before the priests began to make war upon them with

indefatigable zeal. It was necessary that the wall should be thrown

down in order that the sun might penetrate freely among the

Anglo-Saxon people. And new events were ripening in England, destined

to make a great breach in popery. The negotiations of Henry VIII with

Clement VII play an important part in the Reformation. By showing up

the Court of Rome, they destroyed the respect which the people felt

for it; they took away that _power and strength_ as Scripture says,

which the monarchy had given it; and the throne of the pope once

fallen in England, Jesus Christ uplifted and strengthened his own.

Henry, ardently desiring an heir, and thinking that he had found the

woman that would ensure his own and England's happiness, conceived the

design of severing the ties that united him to the queen, and with

this view he consulted his most favourite councillors about the

divorce. There was one in particular whose approval he coveted: this

was Sir Thomas More. One day as Erasmus's friend was walking with his

master in the beautiful gallery at Hampton Court, giving him an

account of a mission he had just executed on the continent, the king

suddenly interrupted him: "My marriage to the queen," he said, "is

contrary to the laws of God, of the church, and of nature." He then

took up the Bible, and pointed out the passages in his favour.[714] "I

am not a theologian," said More, somewhat embarrassed; "your majesty

should consult a council of doctors."

[714] Laid the Bible open before me, and showed me the words. More to

Cromwell, Strype, i, 2nd part, p. 197.

Accordingly, by Henry's order, Warham assembled the most learned

canonists at Hampton Court; but weeks passed away before they could

agree.[715] Most of them quoted in the king's favour those passages in

Leviticus (xviii, 16; xx, 21,) which forbid a man to take _his

brother's wife_.[716] But Fisher, bishop of Rochester, and the other

opponents of the divorce, replied that, according to Deuteronomy (xxv,

5,) when a woman is left a widow without children, her brother-in-law

ought to take her to wife, to perpetuate his brother's name in Israel.

"This law concerned the Jews only," replied the partisans of the

divorce; they added that its object was "to maintain the inheritances

distinct, and the genealogies intact, until the coming of Christ. The

Judaical dispensation has passed away; but the law of Leviticus,

which is a moral law, is binding upon all men in all ages."

[715] Consulting from day to day, and time to time. Cavendish, p. 209.

[716] Ex his doctoribus asseritur quod Papa non potest dispensare in

primo gradu affinitatis. (Burnet's Reform, ii, Records, p. 8. Lond.

1841.) By these doctors it is asserted that the Pope is not able to

grant a dispensation in the first degree of affinity.

To free themselves from their embarrassment, the bishops demanded that

the most eminent universities should be consulted; and commissioners

were forthwith despatched to Oxford, Cambridge, Paris, Orleans,

Toulouse, Louvain, Padua, and Bologna, furnished with money to reward

the foreign doctors for the time and trouble this question would cost

them. This caused some little delay, and every means was now to be

tried to divert the king from his purpose.

[Sidenote: CLARKE'S OBJECTION.]

Wolsey, who was the first to suggest the idea of a divorce, was now

thoroughly alarmed. It appeared to him that a nod from the daughter of

the Boleyns would hurl him from the post he had so laboriously won,

and this made him vent his ill-humour on all about him, at one time

threatening Warham, and at another persecuting Pace. But fearing to

oppose Henry openly, he summoned from Paris, Clarke, bishop of Bath

and Wells, at that time ambassador to the French court. The latter

entered into his views, and after cautiously preparing the way, he

ventured to say to the king: "The progress of the inquiry will be so

slow, your majesty, that it will take more than seven years to bring

it to an end!"--"Since my patience has already held out for _eighteen_

years," the king replied coldly, "I am willing to wait _four_ or

_five_ more."[717]

[717] Since his patience had already held out for eighteen years.

Collyer, ii. p. 24.

[Sidenote: FOUR DOCUMENTS REQUIRED OF THE POPE.]

As the political party had failed, the clerical party set in motion a

scheme of another kind. A young woman, Elizabeth Barton, known as _the

holy maid of Kent_, had been subject from childhood to epileptic fits.

The priest of her parish, named Masters, had persuaded her that she

was inspired of God, and confederating with one Bocking, a monk of

Canterbury, he turned the weakness of the prophetess to account.

Elizabeth wandered over the country, passing from house to house, and

from convent to convent; on a sudden her limbs would become rigid, her

features distorted; violent convulsions shook her body, and strange

unintelligible sounds fell from her lips, which the amazed by-standers

received as revelations from the Virgin and the saints. Fisher, bishop

of Rochester, Abel, the queen's ecclesiastical agent, and even Sir

Thomas More, were among the number of Elizabeth's partisans. Rumours

of the divorce having reached the _saint's_ ears, an angel commanded

her to appear before the cardinal. As soon as she stood in his

presence, the colour fled from her cheeks, her limbs trembled, and

falling into an ecstasy, she exclaimed: "Cardinal of York, God has

placed three swords in your hand: the spiritual sword, to range the

church under the authority of the pope; the civil sword, to govern the

realm; and the sword of justice, to prevent the divorce of the

king.... If you do not wield these three swords faithfully, God will

lay it sore to your charge."[718] After these words the prophetess

withdrew.

[718] Strype, vol. i. part i. p. 279.

But other influences were then dividing Wolsey's breast: hatred, which

induced him to oppose the divorce; and ambition, which foreboded his

ruin in this opposition. At last ambition prevailed, and he resolved

to make his objections forgotten by the energy of his zeal.

[Sidenote: THE POPE CANNOT ERR.]

Henry hastened to profit by this change. "Declare the divorce

yourself," said he to Wolsey, "has not the pope named you his

vicar-general."[719] The cardinal was not anxious to raise himself so

high. "If I were to decide the affair," said he, "the queen would

appeal to the pope; we must therefore either apply to the holy father

for special powers, or persuade the queen to retire to a nunnery. And

if we fail in either of these expedients, we will obey the voice of

conscience, even in despite of the pope."[720] It was arranged to

begin with the more regular attempt, and Gregory Da Casale, secretary

Knight, and the prothonotary Gambara, were appointed to an

extraordinary mission at the pontifical court. Casale was Wolsey's

man, and Knight was Henry's. Wolsey told the envoys: "You will demand

of the pope, _1stly_, a _commission_ authorizing me to inquire into

this matter; _2ndly_, his promise to pronounce the nullity of

Catherine's marriage with Henry, if we should find that her marriage

with Arthur was consummated; and _3rdly_, a _dispensation_ permitting

the king to marry again." In this manner Wolsey hoped to make sure of

the divorce without damaging the papal authority. It was insinuated

that false representations, with regard to the consummation of the

first marriage, had been sent from England to Julius II, which had

induced the pontiff to permit the second. The pope being deceived as

to the _fact_, his infallibility was untouched. Wolsey desired

something more; knowing that no confidence could be put in the good

faith of the pontiff, he demanded a fourth instrument by which the

pope should bind himself _never to recall_ _the other three_; he only

forgot to take precautions in case Clement should withdraw _the

fourth_. "With these four snares, skilfully combined," said the

cardinal, "I shall catch the hare; if he escapes from one, he will

fall into the other." The courtiers anticipated a speedy termination

of the affair. Was not the emperor the declared enemy of the pontiff?

Had not Henry, on the contrary, made himself _protector of the

Clementine league_? Could Clement hesitate, when called upon, to

choose between his jailor and his benefactor?

[719] When Napoleon, from similar motives, desired to separate from

Josephine, fearing the unwillingness of the pope (as Henry did), he

entertained, like him, the design of doing without the pontiff, and of

getting his marriage annulled by the French bishops. As he was more

powerful, he succeeded.

[720] Quid possit clam fieri quoad forum conscientiæ. Collyer, ii. p.

24.

Indeed, Charles V, at this moment, was in a very embarrassing

position. It is true, his guards were posted at the gates of the

castle of St. Angelo, where Clement was a prisoner, and people in Rome

said to one another with a smile: "Now indeed it is true, _Papa non

potest errare_."[721] But it was not possible to keep the pope a

prisoner in Rome; and then what was to be done with him? The viceroy

of Naples proposed to Alercon, the governor of St. Angelo, to remove

Clement to Gæta; but the affrighted colonel exclaimed: "Heaven forbid

that I should drag after me the very body of God!" Charles thought one

time of transporting the pontiff to Spain; but might not an enemy's

fleet carry him off on the road? The pope in prison was far more

embarrassing to Charles than the pope at liberty.

[721] The pope cannot err,--a play upon the double meaning of the word

_errare_.

[Sidenote: A CONFERENCE AT ST. ANGELO.]

It was at this critical time that Francis Philip, Queen Catherine's

servant, having escaped the snares laid by Henry VIII and Wolsey,

arrived at Madrid, where he passed a whole day in conference with

Charles V. This prince was at first astonished, shocked even, by the

designs of the king of England. The curse of God seemed to hang over

his house. His mother was a lunatic; his sister of Denmark expelled

from her dominions; his sister of Hungary made a widow by the battle

of Mohacz; the Turks were encroaching upon his territories; Lautrec

was victorious in Italy, and the catholics, irritated by the pope's

captivity, detested his ambition. This was not enough. Henry VIII was

striving to divorce his aunt, and the pope would naturally give his

aid to this criminal design. Charles must choose between the pontiff

and the king. The friendship of the king of England might aid him in

breaking the league formed to expel him from Italy, and by sacrificing

Catherine he would be sure to obtain his support; but placed between

reasons of state and his aunt's honour, the emperor did not hesitate;

he even renounced certain projects of reform that he had at heart. He

suddenly decided for the pope, and from that very hour followed a new

course.

Charles, who possessed great discernment, had understood his age; he

had seen that concessions were called for by the movement of the human

mind, and would have desired to carry out the change from the middle

ages to modern times by a carefully managed transition. He had

consequently demanded a council to reform the church and weaken the

Romish dominion in Europe. But very different was the result. If

Charles turned away from Henry, he was obliged to turn towards

Clement; and after having compelled the head of the church to enter a

prison, it was necessary to place him once more upon the throne.

Charles V sacrificed the interests of Christian society to the

interests of his own family. This divorce, which in England has been

looked upon as the ruin of the popedom, was what saved it in

continental Europe.

[Sidenote: KNIGHT HURRIES FROM ROME.]

But how could the emperor win the heart of the pontiff, filled as it

was with bitterness and anger? He selected for this difficult mission

a friar of great ability, De Angelis, general of the Spanish

Observance, and ordered him to proceed to the castle of St. Angelo

under the pretext of negotiating the liberation of the holy father.

The cordelier was conducted to the strongest part of the fortress,

called the Rock, where Clement was lodged; and the two priests brought

all their craft to bear on each other. The monk, assisted by the

artful Moncade, adroitly mingled together the pope's deliverance and

Catherine's marriage. He affirmed that the emperor wished to open the

gates of the pontiff's prison, and had already given the order;[722]

and then he added immediately: "The emperor is determined to maintain

the rights of his aunt, and will never consent to the divorce."[723]--

"If you are a _good shepherd_ to me," wrote Charles to the pope with

his own hand on the 22nd of November, "I will be a _good sheep_ to

you." Clement smiled as he read these words; he understood his

position; the emperor had need of the priest, Charles was at his

captive's feet; Clement was saved! The divorce was a rope fallen from

the skies which could not fail to drag him out of the pits; he had

only to cling to it quietly in order to reascend his throne.

Accordingly from that hour Clement appeared less eager to quit the

castle than Charles to liberate him. "So long as the divorce is in

suspense," thought the crafty De' Medici, "I have two great friends;

but as soon as I declare for one, I shall have a mortal enemy in the

other." He promised the monk to come to no decision in the matter

without informing the emperor.

[722] La Cæsarea Majesta si come grandamente desidera la liberatione

de nostro signor, cosi efficacemente la manda. Capituli, etc. Le

Grand, iii. p. 48.

[723] That in anywise he should not consent to the same. State Papers,

vol. vii. p. 29.

Meantime Knight, the envoy of the impatient monarch, having heard, as

he crossed the Alps, that the pope was at liberty, hastened on to

Parma, where he met Gambara: "He is not free yet," replied the

prothonotary; "but the general of the Franciscans hopes to terminate

his captivity in a few days.[724] Continue your journey," he added.

Knight could not do so without great danger. He was told at Foligno,

sixty miles from the metropolis, that if he had not a safe-conduct he

could not reach Rome without exposing his life; Knight halted. Just

then a messenger from Henry brought him despatches more pressing than

ever; Knight started again with one servant and a guide. At Monte

Rotondo he was nearly murdered by the inhabitants; but on the next day

(25th November), protected by a violent storm of wind and rain,[725]

Henry's envoy entered Rome at ten o'clock without being observed, and

kept himself concealed.

[724] Quod sperabat intra paucos dies auferre suæ Sanctitati squalorem

et tenebras. (State Papers, vol. vii. p. 13.) Because he hoped that

within a few days the miserable captivity of his Holiness would be

terminated.

[725] Veari trobelous with wynde and rayne, and therefore more mete

for our voyage. Ibid. p. 16.

It was impossible to speak with Clement, for the emperor's orders were

positive. Knight, therefore, began to _practise_ upon the cardinals;

he gained over the Cardinal of Pisa, by whose means his despatches

were laid before the pontiff. Clement after reading them laid them

down with a smile of satisfaction.[726] "Good!" said he, "here is _the

other_ coming to me now!" But night had hardly closed in before the

Cardinal of Pisa's secretary hastened to Knight and told him: "Don

Alercon is informed of your arrival; and the pope entreats you to

depart immediately." This officer had scarcely left him, when the

prothonotary Gambara arrived in great agitation: "His holiness presses

you to leave; as soon as he is at liberty, he will attend to your

master's request." Two hours after this, two hundred Spanish soldiers

arrived, surrounded the house in which Knight had concealed himself,

and searched it from top to bottom, but to no purpose; the English

agent had escaped.[727]

[726] Reponed the same saufly, as Gambara showed unto me. Ibid. p. 17.

[727] I was not passed out of Rome, by the space of two hours, ere two

hundred Spaniards invaded and searched the house. Burnet, Records, ii.

p. 12.

[Sidenote: THE KING'S REMORSE.]

Knight's safety was not the true motive which induced Clement to urge

his departure. The very day on which the pope received the message

from the king of England, he signed a treaty with Charles V,

restoring him, under certain conditions, to both his powers. At the

same time the pontiff, for greater security, pressed the French

general Lautrec to hasten his march to Rome in order to save him from

the hands of the emperor. Clement, a disciple of Machiavelli, thus

gave the right hand to Charles and the left to Francis; and as he had

not another for Henry, he made him the most positive promises. Each of

the three princes could reckon on the pope's friendship, and on the

same grounds.

The 10th of December (1527) was the day on which Clement's

imprisonment would terminate; but he preferred owing his freedom to

intrigue rather than to the emperor's generosity. He therefore

procured the dress of a tradesman, and, on the evening before the day

fixed for his deliverance, his ward being already much relaxed, he

escaped from the castle, and, accompanied only by Louis of Gonzago in

his flight, he made his way to Orvieto.

While Clement was experiencing all the joy of a man just escaped from

prison, Henry was a prey to the most violent agitation. Having ceased

to love Catherine, he persuaded himself that he was the victim of his

father's ambition, a martyr to duty, and the champion of conjugal

sanctity. His very gait betrayed his vexation, and even among the gay

conversation of the court, deep sighs would escape from his bosom. He

had frequent interviews with Wolsey. "I regard the safety of my soul

above all things,"[728] he said; "but I am concerned also for the

peace of my kingdom. For a long while an unceasing remorse has been

gnawing at my conscience,[729] and my thoughts dwell upon my marriage

with unutterable sorrow.[730] God, in his wrath, has taken away my

sons, and if I persevere in this unlawful union, he will visit me with

still more terrible chastisements.[731] My only hope is in the holy

father." Wolsey replied with a low bow: "Please your majesty, I am

occupied with this business, as if it were my only means of winning

heaven."

[728] Deumque primo et ante omnia ac animæ suæ quietem et salutem

respiciens. Barnet's Reformation, II. Records p. vii.

[729] Longo jam tempore intimo suæ conscientiæ remorsu. Ibid.

[730] Ingenti cum molestia cordisque perturbatione. Ibid.

[731] Graviusque a Deo supplicium expavescit. Ibid. p. viii.

And indeed he redoubled his exertions. He wrote to Sir Gregory Da

Casale on the 5th of December (1527): "You will procure an audience of

the pope at any price. Disguise yourself, appear before him as the

servant of some nobleman,[732] or as a messenger from the duke of

Ferrara. Scatter money plentifully; sacrifice every thing, provided

you procure a secret interview with his holiness; ten thousand ducats

are at your disposal. You will explain to Clement the king's scruples,

and the necessity of providing for the continuance of his house and

the peace of his kingdom. You will tell him that in order to restore

him to liberty, the king is ready to declare war against the emperor,

and thus show himself to all the world to be a true son of the

church."

[732] Mutato habitu et tanquam alicujus minister. (Ibid.) The dress

being changed, and as if somebody's servant.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S ALTERNATIVE.]

Wolsey saw clearly that it was essential to represent the divorce to

Clement VII, as a means likely to secure the safety of the popedom.

The cardinal, therefore, wrote again to Da Casale on the 6th of

December: "Night and day, I revolve in my mind the actual condition of

the church,[733] and seek the means best calculated to extricate the

pope from the gulf into which he has fallen. While I was turning these

thoughts over in my mind during a sleepless night ... one way suddenly

occurred to me. I said to myself, the king must be prevailed upon to

undertake the defence of the holy father. This was no easy matter, for

his majesty is strongly attached to the emperor;[734] however, I set

about my task. I told the king that his holiness was ready to satisfy

him; I staked my honour; I succeeded.... To save the pope, my master

will sacrifice his treasures, subjects, kingdom, and even his

life.[735]... I therefore conjure his holiness to entertain our just

demand."

[733] Diuque ac noctu mente volvens quo facto. (State Papers, vol.

vii. p. 18.) Day and night revolving in my mind the state of matters.

[734] Adeo tenaciter Cæsari adhærebat. (Ibid.) He still adhered

closely to Cæsar.

[735] Usque ad mortem. (Ibid. p. 19.) Even to death.

Never before had such pressing entreaties been made to a pope.

CHAPTER IX.

The English Envoys at Orvieto--Their Oration to the

Pope--Clement gains Time--The Envoys and Cardinal Sanctorum

Quatuor--Stratagem of the Pope--Knight discovers it and

returns--The Transformations of Antichrist--The English

obtain a new Document--Fresh Stratagem--Demand of a second

Cardinal-legate--The Pope's new Expedient--End of the

Campaign.

[Sidenote: THE ENGLISH ENVOYS AT ORVIETO.]

The envoys of the king of England appeared in the character of the

saviours of Rome. This was doubtless no stratagem; and Wolsey

probably regarded that thought as coming from heaven, which had

visited him during the weary sleepless night. The zeal of his agents

increased. The pope was hardly set at liberty, before Knight and Da

Casale appeared at the foot of the precipitous rock on which Orvieto

is built, and demanded to be introduced to Clement VII. Nothing could

be more compromising to the pontiff than such a visit. How could he

appear on good terms with England, when Rome and all his states were

still in the hands of Catherine's nephew? The pope's mind was utterly

bewildered by the demand of the two envoys. He recovered however; to

reject the powerful hand extended to him by England, was not without

its danger; and as he well knew how to bring a difficult negotiation

to a successful conclusion, Clement regained confidence in his skill,

and gave orders to introduce Henry's ambassadors.

Their discourse was not without eloquence: "Never was the church in a

more critical position," said they. "The unmeasured ambition of the

kings who claim to dispose of spiritual affairs at their own pleasure

(this was aimed at Charles V) holds the apostolical bark suspended

over an abyss. The only port open to it in the tempest is the favour

of the august prince whom we represent, and who has always been the

shield of the faith. But, alas! this monarch, the impregnable bulwark

of your holiness, is himself the prey of tribulations almost equal to

your own. His conscience torn by remorse, his crown without an heir,

his kingdom without security, his people exposed once more to

perpetual disorders.... Nay, the whole Christian world given up to the

most cruel discord.[736]... Such are the consequences of a fatal union

which God has marked with his displeasure.... There are also," they

added in a lower tone, "certain things of which his majesty cannot

speak in his letter ... certain incurable disorders under which the

queen suffers, which will never permit the king to look upon her again

as his wife.[737] If your holiness puts an end to such wretchedness by

annulling his unlawful marriage, you will attach his majesty by an

indissoluble bond. Assistance, riches, armies, crown, and even

life--the king our master is ready to employ all in the service of

Rome. He stretches out his hand to you, most holy father ... stretch

out yours to him; by your union the church will be saved, and Europe

will be saved with it."

[736] Discordiæ crudelissimæ per omnem christianum orbem. State

Papers, vol. vii. p. 19.

[737] Nonnulla sunt secreta S.D.N. secreto exponenda et non credenda

scriptis .... ob morbos nonnullos quibus absque remedio regina

laborat. Ibid.

[Sidenote: CLEMENT'S EMBARRASSMENT.]

Clement was cruelly embarrassed. His policy consisted in holding the

balance between the two princes, and he was now called upon to decide

in favour of one of them. He began to regret that he had ever received

Henry's ambassadors. "Consider my position," he said to them, "and

entreat the king to wait until more favourable events leave me at

liberty to act."--"What!" replied Knight proudly, "has not your

holiness promised to consider his majesty's prayer? If you fail in

your promise now, how can I persuade the king that you will keep it

some future day?"[738] Da Casale thought the time had come to strike a

decisive blow. "What evils," he exclaimed, "what inevitable

misfortunes your refusal will create!... The emperor thinks only of

depriving the church of its power, and the king of England alone has

sworn to maintain it." Then speaking lower, more slowly, and dwelling

upon every word, he continued: "We fear that his majesty, reduced to

such extremities ... of the two evils will choose the _least_,[739]

and supported by the purity of his intentions, will do _of his own

authority_ ... what he now so respectfully demands.... What should we

see then?... I shudder at the thought.... Let not your holiness

indulge in a false security which will inevitably drag you into the

abyss.... Read all ... remark all ... divine all ... take note of

all.[740]... Most holy father, this is a question of life and death."

And Da Casale's tone said more than his words.

[738] Perform the promise once broken. Burnet's Ref. ii. Records, p.

xiii.

[739] Ex duobus malis minus malum eligat. State Papers, vii. p. 20.

[740] Ut non gravetur, cuncta legere, et bene notare. Ibid. p. 18.

Clement understood that a positive refusal would expose him to lose

England. Placed between Henry and Charles, as between the hammer and

the forge, he resolved to gain time. "Well then," he said to Knight

and Da Casale, "I will do what you ask; but I am not familiar with the

_forms_ these dispensations require.... I will consult the Cardinal

_Sanctorum Quatuor_ on the subject ... and then will inform you."

[Sidenote: THE DISPENSATION GRANTED.]

Knight and Da Casale, wishing to anticipate Clement VII, hastened to

Lorenzo Pucci, cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and intimated to him that

their master would know how to be grateful. The cardinal assured the

deputies of his affection for Henry VIII, and they, in the fulness of

their gratitude, laid before him the four documents which they were

anxious to get executed. But the cardinal had hardly looked at the

first--the proposal that Wolsey should decide the matter of the

divorce in England--when he exclaimed: "Impossible! ... a bull in such

terms would cover with eternal disgrace not only his holiness and the

king, but even the cardinal of York himself." The deputies were

confounded, for Wolsey had ordered them to ask the pope for nothing

but his signature.[741] Recovering themselves, they rejoined: "All

that we require is a _competent_ commission." On his part, the pope

wrote Henry a letter, in which he managed to say nothing.[742]

[741] Alia nulla re esset opus, præterquam ejus Sanctitatis signatura.

(State Papers, vii, p. 29.) There was need of no other thing besides

the signature of his holiness.

[742] Charissime in Christo fili, etc., dated 7th December 1527. Ibid.

p. 27.

Of the four required documents there were two on whose immediate

despatch Knight and Da Casale insisted: these were the _commission_ to

pronounce the divorce, and the _dispensation_ to contract a second

marriage. The _dispensation_ without the _commission_ was of no value;

this the pope knew well; accordingly he resolved to give the

_dispensation_ only. It was as if Charles had granted Clement when in

prison permission to visit his cardinals, but denied him liberty to

leave the castle of St. Angelo. It is in such a manner as this that a

religious system transformed into a political system has recourse,

when it is without power, to stratagem. "The _commission_," said the

artful Medici to Knight, "must be corrected according to the style of

our court; but here is the _dispensation_." Knight took the document;

it was addressed to Henry VIII and ran thus: "We accord to you, in

case your marriage with Catherine shall be declared null,[743] free

liberty to take another wife, provided she have not been the wife of

your brother...." The Englishman was duped by the Italian. "To my poor

judgment," he said, "this document will be of use to us." After this

Clement appeared to concern himself solely about Knight's health, and

suddenly manifested the greatest interest for him. "It is proper that

you should hasten your departure," said he, "for it is necessary that

you should travel _at your ease_. Gambara will follow you post, and

bring the commission." Knight thus mystified, took leave of the pope,

who got rid of Da Casale and Gambara in a similar manner. He then

began to breathe once more. There was no diplomacy in Europe which

Rome, even in its greatest weakness, could not easily dupe.

[743] Matrimonium cum Catharina nullum fuisse et esse declarari.

Herbert's Henry VIII, p. 280.

[Sidenote: KNIGHT DUPED BY THE POPE.]

It had now become necessary to elude the commission. While the king's

envoys were departing in good spirits, reckoning on the document that

was to follow them, the general of the Spanish Observance reiterated

to the pontiff in every tone: "Be careful to give no document

authorising the divorce, and above all, do not permit this affair to

be judged in Henry's states." The cardinals drew up the document under

the influence of De Angelis, and made it a masterpiece of

insignificance. If good theology ennobles the heart, bad theology, so

fertile in subtleties, imparts to the mind a skill by no means common;

and hence the most celebrated diplomatists have often been churchmen.

The act being thus drawn up, the pope despatched three copies, to

Knight, to Da Casale, and to Gambara. Knight was near Bologna when the

courier overtook him. He was stupefied, and taking post-horses

returned with all haste to Orvieto.[744] Gambara proceeded through

France to England with the useless _dispensation_ which the pope had

granted.

[744] Burnet's Reformation, Records, ii. p. xiii.

[Sidenote: THE POPE GIVES THE COMMISSION.]

Knight had thought to meet with more good faith at the court of the

pope than with kings, and he had been outwitted. What would Wolsey and

Henry say of his folly? His wounded self-esteem began to make him

believe all that Tyndale and Luther said of the popedom. The former

had just published the _Obedience of a Christian Man_, and the

_Parable of the Wicked Mammon_, in which he represented Rome as one of

the transformations of Antichrist. "Antichrist," said he in the latter

treatise, "is not a man that should suddenly appear with wonders; he

is a spiritual thing, who was in the Old Testament, and also in the

time of Christ and the apostles, and is now, and shall (I doubt not)

endure till the world's end. His nature is (when he is overcome with

the Word of God) to go out of the play for a season, and to disguise

himself, and then to come in again with a new name and new raiment.

The Scribes and Pharisees in the gospel were very Antichrists; popes,

cardinals, and bishops have gotten their new names, but the thing is

all one. Even so now, when we have uttered [detected] him, _he will

change himself once more_, and turn himself into an angel of light.

Already _the beast_, seeing himself now to be sought for, roareth and

seeketh new holes to hide himself in, and changeth himself into a

thousand fashions."[745] This idea, paradoxical at first, gradually

made its way into men's minds. The Romans, by their practices,

familiarized the English to the somewhat coarse descriptions of the

reformers. England was to have many such lessons, and thus by degrees

learn to set Rome aside for the sake of her own glory and prosperity.

[745] Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 42, 43.

Knight and Da Casale reached Orvieto about the same time. Clement

replied with sighs: "Alas! I am the emperor's prisoner. The

imperialists are every day pillaging towns and castles in our

neighbourhood.[746]... Wretch that I am! I have not a friend except

the king your master, and he is far away.... If I should do anything

now to displease Charles, I am a lost man.... To sign the commission

would be to sign an eternal rupture with him." But Knight and Da

Casale pleaded so effectually with Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and so

pressed Clement, that the pontiff, without the knowledge of the

Spaniard De Angelis, gave them a more satisfactory document, but not

such as Wolsey required. "In giving you this commission," said the

pope, "I am giving away my liberty, and perhaps my life. I listen not

to the voice of prudence, but to that of affection only. I confide in

the generosity of the king of England, he is the master of my

destiny." He then began to weep,[747] and seemed ready to faint.

Knight, forgetting his vexation, promised Clement that the king would

do everything to save him.--"Ah!" said the pope, "there is one

effectual means."--"What is that?" inquired Henry's agents.--"M.

Lautrec, who says daily that he will come, but never does," replied

Clement, "has only to bring the French army promptly before the gates

of Orvieto; then I could excuse myself by saying that he constrained

me to sign the commission."[748]--"Nothing is easier," replied the

envoys, "we will go and hasten his arrival."

[746] The imperialists do daily spoil castles and towns about Rome ...

they have taken within three days two castles lying within six miles

of this. Burnet's Ref. vol. ii. Records, p. xiii.

[747] Cum suspiriis et lacrymis. (Ibid p. xii.) With sighs and tears.

[748] And by this colour he would cover the matter. Ibid.

[Sidenote: HENRY DEMANDS ANOTHER LEGATE.]

Clement was not even now at ease. The safety of the Roman church

troubled him not less than his own ... Charles might discover the

trick and make the popedom suffer for it. There was danger on all

sides. If the English spoke of _independence_, did not the Emperor

threaten a _reform_?... The catholic princes, said the papal

councillors, are capable, without perhaps a single exception, of

supporting the cause of Luther to gratify a criminal ambition.[749]

The pope reflected, and withdrawing his word, promised to give the

commission when Lautrec was under the walls of Orvieto; but the

English agents insisted on having it immediately. To conciliate all,

it was agreed that the pope should give the required document at once,

but as soon as the French army arrived, he should send another copy

bearing the date of the day on which he saw Lautrec. "Beseech the king

to keep secret the commission I give you,"[750] said Clement VII to

Knight; "if he begins the process immediately he receives it, I am

undone forever."[751] The pope thus gave permission to act, on

condition of not acting at all. Knight took leave on the 1st of

January 1528; he promised all the pontiff desired, and then, as if

fearing some fresh difficulty, he departed the same day. Da Casale, on

his side, after having offered the Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor a gift

of 4000 crowns, which he refused, repaired to Lautrec, to beg him to

_constrain_ the pope to sign a document which was already on its way

to England.

[749] Non potest Sua Sanctitas sibi persuadere ipsos principes (ut

forte aliqui jactant) assumpturos sectam Lutheranam contra ecclesiam.

(State Papers, vii. p. 47.) His Holiness is not able to persuade

himself that these princes (as some perchance assert) are capable of

supporting the Lutheran sect against the church.

[750] State Papers, vii. p. 36.

[751] Is fully in your puissance with publishing of the commission to

destroy for ever. Ibid.

But while the business seemed to be clearing at Rome, it was becoming

more complicated in London. The king's project got wind, and Catherine

gave way to the liveliest sorrow. "I shall protest," said she,

"against the commission given to the cardinal of York. Is he not the

king's subject, the vile flatterer of his pleasures?" Catherine did

not resist alone; the people, who hated the cardinal, could not with

pleasure see him invested with such authority. To obviate this

inconvenience, Henry resolved to ask the pope for another cardinal,

who should be empowered to terminate the affair in London with or

without Wolsey.

The latter agreed to the measure: it is even possible that he was the

first to suggest it, for he feared to bear alone the responsibility of

so hateful an inquiry. Accordingly, on the 27th of December, he wrote

to the king's agents at Rome: "Procure the envoy of a legate, and

particularly of an able, easy, _manageable_ legate ... desirous of

meriting the king's favour,[752] Campeggio for instance. You will

earnestly request the cardinal who may be selected, to travel with all

diligence, and you will assure him that the king will behave liberally

towards him."[753]

[752] Eruditus, indifferens, tractabilis, de regia majestate bene

merendi cupidus. Ibid. p. 33.

[753] Regia majestas sumptus, labores, atque molestias liberalissime

compenset. (Ibid. p. 34.) His majesty will liberally compensate his

outlay, toil, and labour.

[Sidenote: THE POPE'S NEW EXPEDIENT.]

Knight reached Asti on the 10th of January, where he found letters

with fresh orders. This was another check: at one time it is the pope

who compels him to retrograde, at another it is the king. Henry's

unlucky valetudinarian secretary, a man very susceptible of fatigue,

and already wearied and exhausted by ten painful journeys, was in a

very bad humour. He determined to permit Gambara to carry the two

documents to England; to commission Da Casale, who had not left the

pope's neighbourhood, to solicit the despatch of the legate; and as

regarded himself, to go and wait for further orders at Turin:--"If it

be thought good unto the king's highness that I do return unto

Orvieto, I shall do as much as _my poor carcass_ may endure."[754]

[754] Burnet's Ref. vol. ii. Records, p. xiii.

When Da Casale reached Bologna, he pressed Lautrec to go and constrain

the pontiff to sign the act which Gambara was already bearing to

England. On receiving the new despatches he returned in all haste to

Orvieto, and the pope was very much alarmed when he heard of his

arrival. He had feared to grant a simple paper, destined to remain

_secret_; and now he is required to send a prince of the church! Will

Henry never be satisfied? "The mission you desire would be full of

dangers," he replied; "but we have discovered another means, alone

calculated to finish this business. Mind you do not say that I pointed

it out to you," added the pope in a mysterious tone; "but that it was

suggested by Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor and Simonetta." Da Casale was

all attention. "There is not a doctor in the world who can better

decide on this matter, and on its most private circumstances, than the

king himself.[755] If therefore he sincerely believes that Catherine

had really become his brother's wife, let him empower the cardinal of

York to pronounce the divorce, and let him take another wife without

any further ceremony;[756] he can then afterwards demand the

confirmation of the consistory. The affair being concluded in this

way, I will take the rest upon myself."--"But," said Da Casale,

somewhat dissatisfied with this new intrigue, "I must fulfil my

mission, and the king demands a legate."--"And whom shall I send,"

asked Clement. "Da Monte? he cannot move. De Cæsis? he is at Naples.

Ara Cœli? he has the gout. Piccolomini? he is of the imperial

party.... Campeggio would be the best, but he is at Rome, where he

supplies my place, and cannot leave without peril to the church."...

And then with some emotion he added, "I throw myself into his

majesty's arms. The emperor will never forgive what I am doing. If he

hears of it he will summon me before _his council_; I shall have no

rest until he has deprived me of my throne and my life."[757]

[755] Nullus doctor in mundo est, qui de hac re melius decernere

possit quam ipse rex. Ibid. p. xiv.

[756] Aliam uxorem ducat. Ibid.

[757] Vocabit eum ad concilium, vel nihil aliud quæret, nisi ut eum

omni statu et vita privet. Ibid. p. xxvi.

Da Casale hastened to forward to London the result of the conference.

Clement being unable to untie the knot, requested Henry to cut it.

Will this prince hesitate to employ so easy a means, the pope (Clement

declared it himself) being willing to ratify everything?

Here closes Henry's first campaign in the territories of the popedom.

We shall now see the results of so many efforts.

CHAPTER X.

Disappointment in England--War declared against Charles

V--Wolsey desires to get him deposed by the Pope--A new

Scheme--Embassy of Fox and Gardiner--Their Arrival at

Orvieto--Their first interview with Clement--The Pope reads

a treatise by Henry--Gardiner's Threats and Clement's

Promise--The Modern Fabius--Fresh Interview and Menaces--The

pope has not _the key_--Gardiner's Proposition--Difficulties

and delays of the Cardinals--Gardiner's last Blows--Reverses

of Charles V in Italy--The Pope's Terror and Concession--The

_Commission_ granted--Wolsey demands the _Engagement_--A

Loophole--The Pope's Distress.

[Sidenote: DISAPPOINTMENT IN ENGLAND.]

Never was disappointment more complete than that felt by Henry and

Wolsey after the arrival of Gambara with the commission; the king was

angry, the cardinal vexed. What Clement called the _sacrifice of his

life_ was in reality but a sheet of paper fit only to be thrown into

the fire. "This commission is of no value,"[758] said Wolsey.--"And

even to put it into execution," added Henry, "we must wait until the

imperialists have quitted Italy! The pope is putting us off to the

Greek calends."--"His holiness," observed the cardinal, "does not bind

himself to pronounce the divorce; the queen will therefore appeal from

our judgment."--"And even if the pope had bound himself," added the

king, "it would be sufficient for the emperor to smile upon him, to

make him retract what he had promised."--"It is all a cheat and a

mockery," concluded both king and minister.

[758] Nullius sit roboris vel effectus. (State Papers, vii. p. 50.) It

is of no power or effect.

[Sidenote: WAR DECLARED AGAINST CHARLES.]

What was to be done next? The only way to make Clement ours, thought

Wolsey, is to get rid of Charles; it is time his pride was brought

down. Accordingly, on the 21st of January 1528, France and England

declared hostilities against the emperor. When Charles heard of this

proceeding he exclaimed: "I know the hand that has flung the torch of

war into the midst of Europe. My crime is not having placed the

cardinal of York on St. Peter's throne."

A mere declaration of war was not enough for Wolsey; the bishop of

Bayonne, ambassador from France, seeing him one day somewhat

excited,[759] whispered in his ear: "In former times popes have

deposed emperors for smaller offences." Charles's deposition would

have delivered the king of France from a troublesome rival; but Du

Bellay, fearing to take the initiative in so bold an enterprise,

suggested the idea to the cardinal. Wolsey reflected: such a thought

had never before occurred to him. Taking the ambassador aside to a

window, he there swore _stoutly_, said Du Bellay, that he should be

delighted to use all his influence to get Charles deposed by the pope.

"No one is more likely than yourself," replied the bishop, "to induce

Clement to do it."--"I will use all my credit," rejoined Wolsey, and

the two priests separated. This bright idea the cardinal never forgot.

Charles had robbed him of the tiara; he will retaliate by depriving

Charles of his crown. _An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth._

Staffileo, dean of the Rota, was then in London, and still burning

with resentment against the author of the Sack of Rome, he favourably

received the suggestions Wolsey made to him; and, finally, the envoy

from John Zapolya, king-elect of Hungary, supported the project. But

the kings of France and England were not so easily induced to put the

thrones of kings at the disposal of the priests. It appears, however,

that the pope was sounded on the subject; and if the emperor had been

beaten in Italy, it is probable that the bull would have been

fulminated against him. His sword preserved his crown, and the plot of

the two bishops failed.

[759] Du Bellay to Francis I. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 64.

The king's councillors began to seek for less heroic means. "We must

prosecute the affair at _Rome_," said some.--"No," said others, "in

_England_. The pope is too much afraid of the emperor to pronounce the

divorce in person."--"If the pope fears the emperor more than the king

of England," exclaimed the proud Tudor, "we shall find some other way

to set him at ease."[760] Thus, at the first contradiction, Henry

placed his hand on his sword, and threatened to sever the ties which

bound his kingdom to the throne of the Italian pontiff.

[760] Burnet's Reformation, i. p. 50.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S NEW PROJECT.]

"I have hit it!" said Wolsey at length; "we must combine the two

clans--judge the affair in London, and at the same time bind the

Pontiff at Rome." And then the able cardinal proposed the draft of a

bull, by which the pope, delegating his authority to two legates,

should declare that the acts of that delegation should have a

perpetual effect, notwithstanding any contrary decrees that might

subsequently emanate from his infallible authority.[761] A new mission

was decided upon for the accomplishment of this bold design.

[761] Non obstantibus quibuscunque decretis revocatoriis præsentis

concessionis nostræ. (Burnet, Records, ii, p. 17.) No revocatory

decrees whatsoever shall invalidate my present concession.

Wolsey, annoyed by the folly of Knight and his colleagues, desired men

of another stamp. He therefore cast his eyes on his own secretary,

Stephen Gardiner, an active man, intelligent, supple, and crafty, a

learned canonist, desirous of the king's favour, and, above all, a

good Romanist, which at Rome was not without its advantage. Gardiner

was in small the living image of his master; and hence the cardinal

sometimes styled him _the half of himself_.[762] Edward Fox, the chief

almoner, was joined with him--a moderate, influential man, a

particular friend of Henry's, and a zealous advocate of the divorce.

Fox was named first in the commission; but it was agreed that Gardiner

should be the real head of the embassy. "Repeat without ceasing,"

Wolsey told them, "that his majesty cannot do otherwise than separate

from the queen. Attack each one on his weak side. Declare to the pope

that the king promises to defend him against the emperor; and to the

cardinals that their services will be nobly rewarded.[763] If that

does not suffice, let the energy of your words be such as to excite a

wholesome fear in the pontiff."

[762] Mei dimidium. Ibid. p. 15.

[763] Money to present the cardinals. Strype's Mem. i, p. 137.

Fox and Gardiner, after a gracious reception at Paris (23rd February),

by Francis I, arrived at Orvieto on the 20th of March, after many

perils, and with their dress in such disorder, that no one could have

taken them for the ambassadors of Henry VIII. "What a city!" they

exclaimed, as they passed through its streets; "what ruins, what

misery! It is indeed truly called Orvieto (_urbs vetus_)!" The state

of the town gave them no very grand idea of the state of the popedom,

and they imagined that with a pontiff so poorly lodged, their

negotiation could not be otherwise than easy. "I give you my house,"

said Da Casale, to whom they went, "my room and my own bed;" and as

they made some objections, he added: "It is not possible to lodge you

elsewhere; I have even been forced to borrow what was necessary to

receive you."[764] Da Casale, pressing them to change their clothes,

which were still dripping (they had just crossed a river on their

mules), they replied, that being obliged to travel post, they had not

been able to bring a change of raiment. "Alas!" said Casale, "what is

to be done? there are few persons in Orvieto who have more garments

than one;[765] even the shopkeepers have no cloth for sale; this town

is quite a prison. People say the pope is at liberty here. A pretty

liberty indeed! Want, impure air, wretched lodging, and a thousand

other inconveniences keep the holy father closer than when he was in

the Castle of St. Angelo. Accordingly, he told me the other day, it

was better to be in captivity at Rome than at liberty here."[766]

[764] Borrowing of divers men so much as might furnish three beds.

Ibid. p. 139.

[765] Strype's Mem. i. p. 139.

[766] State Papers, vii. p. 63.

[Sidenote: FIRST AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE.]

In two days, however, they managed to procure some new clothing; and

being now in a condition to show themselves, Henry's agents were

admitted to an after-dinner audience on Monday the 22nd of March

(1528).

Da Casale conducted them to an old building in ruins. "This is where

his holiness lives," he said. They looked at one another with

astonishment, and crossing the rubbish lying about, passed through

three chambers whose ceilings had fallen in, whose windows were

curtainless, and in which thirty persons "_riff-raff_ were standing

against the bare walls for a garnishment."[767] This was the pope's

court.

[767] Strype, i. p. 139.

At length the ambassadors reached the pontiff's room, and placed

Henry's letters in his hands. "Your holiness," said Gardiner, "when

sending the king a dispensation, was pleased to add, that if this

document were not sufficient, you would willingly give a better. It is

that favour the king now desires." The pope with embarrassment strove

to soften his refusal. "I am informed," he said, "that the king is led

on in this affair by a secret inclination, and that the lady he loves

is far from being worthy of him." Gardiner replied with firmness: "The

king truly deserves to marry again after the divorce, that he may have

an heir to the crown; but the woman he proposes to take is animated by

the noblest sentiments; the cardinal of York and all England do homage

to her virtues."[768] The pope appeared convinced. "Besides,"

continued Gardiner, "the king has written a book on the motives of his

divorce."--"Good! come and read it to me to-morrow," rejoined Clement.

[768] The cardinal's judgment as to the good qualities of the

gentlewoman. Ibid. p. 141.

[Sidenote: SECOND AUDIENCE.]

The next day the English envoys had hardly appeared, before Clement

took Henry's book, ran over it as he walked up and down the room, and

then seating himself on a long bench covered with an old carpet, "not

worth twenty pence," says an annalist, he read the book aloud. He

counted the number of arguments, made objections as if Henry were

present, and piled them one upon another without waiting for an

answer. "The marriages forbidden in Leviticus," said he, in a short

and quick tone of voice, "are permitted in Deuteronomy; now

Deuteronomy coming after Leviticus, we are bound by the latter. The

honour of Catherine and the emperor is at stake, and the divorce would

give rise to a terrible war."[769] The pope continued speaking, and

whenever the Englishmen attempted to reply, he bade them be silent,

and kept on reading. "It is an excellent book," said he, however, in a

courteous tone, when he had ended; "I shall keep it to read over again

at my leisure." Gardiner then presenting a draft of the commission

which Henry required, Clement made answer: "It is too late to look at

it now; leave it with me."--"But we are in haste," added

Gardiner.--"Yes, yes, I know it," said the pope. All his efforts

tended to protract the business.

[769] Quis præstabit ne hoc divortium magni alicujus belli causam

præbeat. Sanderus, p. 26.

On the 28th of March, the ambassadors were conducted to the room in

which the pope slept; the cardinals Sanctorum Quatuor and De Monte, as

well as the councillor of the Rota, Simonetta, were then with him.

Chairs were arranged in a semicircle. "Be seated," said Clement, who

stood in the middle.[770] "Master Gardiner, now tell me what you

want."--"There is no question between us but one of _time_. You

promised to ratify the divorce, as soon as it was pronounced; and we

require you to do _before_ what you engage to do _after_. What is

right on one day, must be right on another." Then, raising his voice,

the Englishman added: "If his majesty perceives that no more respect

is paid to him than to a common man,[771] he will have recourse to a

_remedy_ which I will not name, but which will not fail in its

effect."

[770] In medio semicirculi. Strype, Records, i, p. 81.

[771] Promiscuæ plebis. Ibid. p. 82.

[Sidenote: THE TEMPORIZER.]

The pope and his councillors looked at one another in silence;[772]

they had understood him. The imperious Gardiner, remarking the effect

which he had produced, then added in an absolute tone: "We have our

instructions, and are determined to keep to them."--"I am ready to do

everything compatible with my honour," exclaimed Clement, in

alarm.--"What your honour would not permit you to grant," said the

proud ambassador, "the honour of the king, my master, would not permit

him to ask." Gardiner's language became more imperative every minute.

"Well, then," said Clement, driven to extremity, "I will do what the

king demands, and if the emperor is angry, I cannot help it." The

interview, which had commenced with a storm, finished with a gleam of

sunshine.

[772] Every man looked on other and so stayed. Ibid.

That bright gleam soon disappeared: Clement, who imagined he saw in

Henry a Hannibal at war with Rome, wished to play the temporizer, the

_Fabius Cunctator_. "_Bis dat qui cito dat_,"[773] said Gardiner

sharply, who observed this manœuvre.--"It is a question of law,"

replied the pope, "and as I am very ignorant in these matters, I must

give the doctors of the canon law the necessary time to make it all

clear."--"By his delays Fabius Maximus saved Rome," rejoined Gardiner;

"you will destroy it by yours."[774]--"Alas!" exclaimed the pope, "if

I say the king is right, I shall have to go back to prison."[775]--

"When truth is concerned," said the ambassador, "of what consequence

are the opinions of men?" Gardiner was speaking at his ease, but

Clement found that the castle of St. Angelo was not without weight in

the balance. "You may be sure that I shall do everything for the

best," replied the modern Fabius. With these words the conference

terminated.

[773] He gives twice who gives quickly.

[774] In Fabio Maximo qui rem Romanam cunctando restituit. Strype, p.

90.

[775] Materia novæ captivitatis. Ibid. p. 86.

[Sidenote: THE POPE WITHOUT THE KEY.]

Such were the struggles of England with the popedom--struggles which

were to end in a definitive rupture. Gardiner knew that he had a

skilful adversary to deal with; too cunning to allow himself to be

irritated, he coolly resolved to frighten the pontiff: that was in his

instructions. On the Friday before Palm Sunday, he was ushered into

the pope's closet; there he found Clement attended by De Monte,

Sanctorum Quatuor, Simonetta, Staffileo, Paul, auditor of the Rota,

and Gambara. "It is impossible," said the cardinals, "to grant a

decretal commission in which the pope pronounces _de jure_ in favour

of the divorce, with a promise of confirmation _de facto_." Gardiner

insisted; but no persuasion, "neither dulce nor poynante,"[776] could

move the pontiff. The envoy judged the moment had come to discharge

his strongest battery. "O perverse race," said he to the pontiff's

ministers, "instead of being harmless as doves, you are as full of

dissimulation and malice as serpents; promising everything but

performing nothing.[777] England will be driven to believe that God

has taken from you the key of knowledge, and that the laws of the

popes, ambiguous to the popes themselves, are only fit to be cast into

the fire.[778] The king has hitherto restrained his people, impatient

of the Romish yoke; but he will now give them the rein." A long and

gloomy silence followed. Then the Englishman, suddenly changing his

tone, softly approached Clement, who had left his seat, and conjured

him in a low voice to consider carefully what justice required of him.

"Alas!" replied Clement, "I tell you again, I am ignorant in these

matters. According to the maxims of the canon law _the pope carries

all laws in the tablets of his heart_,[779] but unfortunately God has

never given me _the key_ that opens them." As he could not escape by

silence, Clement retreated under cover of a jest, and heedlessly

pronounced the condemnation of the popedom. If he had never received

the famous _key_, there was no reason why other pontiffs should have

possessed it. The next day he found another loophole; for when the

ambassadors told him that the king would carry on the matter without

him, he sighed, drew out his handkerchief, and said as he wiped his

eyes:[780] "Would to God that I were dead!" Clement employed tears as

a political engine.

[776] Ibid. p. 114.

[777] Pleni omni dolo et versatione et dissimulatione. Verbis omnia

pollicentur, reipsa nihil præstant. Ibid. p. 98.

[778] Digna esse quæ mandentur flammis pontificia jura. Ibid.

[779] Pontifex habet omnia jura in scrinio pectoris. Strype, p. 99.

[780] Ibid. p. 100.

"We shall not get the _decretal_ commission," (that which pronounced

the divorce) said Fox and Gardiner after this, "and it is not really

necessary. Let us demand the _general_ commission (authorizing the

legates to pronounce it), and exact a promise that shall supply the

place of the act which is denied us." Clement, who was ready to make

all the promises in the world, swore to ratify the sentence of the

legates without delay. Fox and Gardiner then presented to Simonetta a

draft of the act required. The dean, after reading it, returned it to

the envoys, saying, "It is very well, I think, except _the end_;[781]

show it Sanctorum Quatuor." The next morning they carried the draft to

that cardinal: "How long has it been the rule for the patient to write

the prescription? I always thought it was the physician's

business."--"No one knows the disease so well as the patient," replied

Gardiner; "and this disease may be of such a nature that the doctor

cannot prescribe the remedy without taking the patient's advice."

Sanctorum Quatuor read the prescription, and then returned it, saying:

"It is not bad, with the exception of _the beginning_.[782] Take the

draft to De Monte and the other councillors." The latter liked neither

beginning, middle, nor end. "We will send for you this evening," said

De Monte.

[781] The matter was good saving in the latter end. Ibid. p. 102.

[782] The beginning pleased him not.

[Sidenote: A NEW TRAGEDY.]

Three or four days having elapsed, Henry's envoys again waited on the

pope, who showed them the draft prepared by his councillors. Gardiner

remarking in it additions, retrenchments, and corrections, threw it

disdainfully from him, and said coldly: "Your holiness is deceiving

us; you have selected these men to be the instruments of your

duplicity." Clement, in alarm, sent for Simonetta; and after a warm

discussion,[783] the envoys, more discontented than ever, quitted the

pope at one in the morning.

[783] Incalescente disputatione. Strype, p. 104.

The night brings wisdom. "I only desire two little words more in the

commission," said Gardiner next day to Clement and Simonetta. The pope

requested Simonetta to wait upon the cardinals immediately; the latter

sent word that they were at dinner, and adjourned the business until

the morrow.

When Gardiner heard of this Epicurean message, he thought the time had

come for striking a decisive blow. A new tragedy began.[784] "We are

deceived," exclaimed he, "you are laughing at us. This is not the way

to gain the favour of princes. Water mixed with wine spoils it;[785]

your corrections nullify our document. These ignorant and suspicious

priests have spelled over our draft as if a scorpion was hidden under

every word.[786]--You made us come to Italy," said he to Staffileo and

Gambara, "like hawks which the fowler lures by holding out to them a

piece of meat;[787] and now that we are here, the bait has

disappeared, and, instead of giving us what we sought, you pretend to

lull us to sleep by the sweet voice of the sirens."[788] Then, turning

to Clement, the English envoy added, "Your holiness will have to

answer for this." The pope sighed and wiped away his tears. "It was

God's pleasure," continued Gardiner, whose tone became more

threatening every minute, "that we should see with our own eyes the

disposition of the people here. It is time to have done. Henry is not

an ordinary prince,--bear in mind that you are insulting _the defender

of the faith_.... You are going to lose the favour of the only monarch

who protects you, and the apostolical chair, already tottering, will

fall into dust, and disappear entirely amidst the applause of all

Christendom."

[784] Here began a new tragedy. Ibid. p. 105.

[785] Vinum conspurcat infusa aqua. Ibid.

[786] Putantes sub omni verbo latere scorpionem. Ibid.

[787] Prætendere pugno carnem. Ibid.

[788] Dulcibus sirenum vocibus incantare. Ibid.

[Sidenote: THE POPE'S TERROR.]

Gardiner paused. The pope was moved. The state of Italy seemed to

confirm but too strongly the sinister predictions of the envoy of

Henry VIII. The imperial troops, terrified and pursued by Lautrec, had

abandoned Rome and retired on Naples. The French general was following

up this wretched army of Charles V, decimated by pestilence and

debauchery; Doria, at the head of his galleys, had destroyed the

Spanish fleet; Gaeta and Naples only were left to the imperialists;

and Lautrec, who was besieging the latter place, wrote to Henry on the

26th of August that all would soon be over. The timid Clement VII had

attentively watched all these catastrophes. Accordingly, Gardiner had

hardly denounced the danger which threatened the popedom, before he

turned pale with affright, rose from his seat, stretched out his arms

in terror, as if he had desired to repel some monster ready to devour

him, and exclaimed, "Write, write! Insert whatever words you please."

As he said this, he paced up and down the room, raising his hands to

heaven and sighing deeply, while Fox and Gardiner, standing

motionless, looked on in silence. A tempestuous wind seemed to be

stirring the depths of the abyss; the ambassadors waited until the

storm was abated. At last Clement recovered himself,[789] made a few

trivial excuses, and dismissed Henry's ministers. It was an hour past

midnight.

[789] Compositis affectibus. Strype, p. 106.

It was neither morality, nor religion, nor even the laws of the church

which led Clement to refuse the divorce; ambition and fear were his

only motives. He would have desired that Henry should first constrain

the emperor to restore him his territories. But the king of England,

who felt himself unable to protect the pope against Charles, required,

however, this unhappy pontiff to provoke the emperor's anger. Clement

reaped the fruits of that fatal system which had transformed the

church of Jesus Christ into a pitiful combination of policy and

cunning.

[Sidenote: THE ENGAGEMENT CONCEDED.]

On the next day, the tempest having thoroughly abated,[790] Sanctorum

Quatuor corrected the commission. It was signed, completed by a leaden

seal attached to a piece of string, and then handed to Gardiner, who

read it. The bull was addressed to Wolsey, and "authorized him, in

case he should acknowledge the nullity of Henry's marriage, to

pronounce judicially the sentence of divorce, but without noise or

display of judgment;[791] for that purpose he might take any English

bishop for his colleague."--"All that we can do, you can do," said the

pope. "We are very doubtful," said the importunate Gardiner after

reading the bull, "whether this commission, without the clauses of

_confirmation_ and _revocation_, will satisfy his majesty; but we

will do all in our power to get him to accept it."--"Above all, do not

speak of our altercations," said the pope. Gardiner, like a discreet

diplomist, did not scruple to note down every particular in cipher in

the letters whence these details are procured. "Tell the king,"

continued the pontiff, "that this commission is on my part a

declaration of war against the emperor, and that I now place myself

under his majesty's protection." The chief-almoner of England departed

for London with the precious document.

[790] The divers tempests passed over. Ibid.

[791] Sine strepitu et figura judicii sententiam divortii judicialiter

proferendam. Rymer, Fœdera, vi, pars. ii, p. 95.

But one storm followed close upon another. Fox had not long quitted

Orvieto when new letters arrived from Wolsey, demanding the fourth of

the acts previously requested, namely, the _engagement_ to ratify at

Rome whatever the commissioners might decide in England. Gardiner was

to set about it _in season and out of season_; the verbal promise of

the pope counted for nothing; this document must be had, whether the

pope was ill, dying, or dead.[792] "_Ego et Rex meus_, his majesty and

I command you;" said Wolsey; "this divorce is of more consequence to

us than twenty popedoms."[793] The English envoy renewed their demand.

"Since you refuse the decretal," he said, "there is the greater reason

why you should not refuse _the engagement_." This application led to

fresh discussion and fresh tears. Clement gave way once more; but the

Italians, more crafty than Gardiner, reserved a loophole in the

document through which the pontiff might escape. The messenger

Thaddeus carried it to London; and Gardiner left Orvieto for Rome to

confer with Campeggio.

[792] In casu mortis pontificis, quod Deus avertat. (Burnet, Records,

p. xxviii.) In case of the death of the pope, which may God avert.

[793] The thing which the king's highness and I more esteem than

twenty papalities. Ibid. p. xxv.

Clement was a man of penetrating mind, and although he knew as well as

any how to deliver a clever speech, he was irresolute and timid; and

accordingly the commission had not long been despatched before he

repented. Full of distress, he paced the ruined chambers of his old

palace, and imagined he saw hanging over his head that terrible sword

of Charles the Fifth, whose edge he had already felt. "Wretch that I

am," said he, "cruel wolves surround me; they open their jaws to

swallow me up.... I see none but enemies around me. At their head is

the emperor.... What will he do? Alas! I have yielded that fatal

commission which the general of the Spanish observance had enjoined me

to refuse. Behind Charles come the Venetians, the Florentines, the

duke of Ferrara.... They have cast lots upon my vesture.[794]... Next

comes the king of France, who promises nothing, but looks on with

folded arms; or rather, what perfidy! calls upon me at this critical

moment to deprive Charles V of his crown.... And last, but not least,

Henry VIII, _the defender of the faith_, indulges in frightful menaces

against me.... The emperor desires to maintain the queen on the throne

of England; the latter, to put her away.... Would to God that

Catherine were in her grave! But, alas! she lives ... to be the apple

of discord dividing the two greatest monarchies, and the inevitable

cause of the ruin of the popedom.... Wretched man that I am! how cruel

is my perplexity, and around me, I can see nothing but horrible

confusion."[795]

[794] Novo fœdere inito super vestem suam miserunt sortem. (Strype,

Records, i. p. 109.) A new treaty being entered upon they have cast

lots upon his vesture.

[795] His holiness findeth himself in a marvellous perplexity and

confusion. Ibid. p. 108.

CHAPTER XI.

Fox's Report to Henry and Anne--Wolsey's Impression--He

demands the Decretal--One of the Cardinal's petty

Manœuvres--He sets his Conscience at Rest--Gardiner fails at

Rome--Wolsey's new perfidy--The King's Anger against the

Pope--Sir T. More predicts Religious Liberty--Immorality of

Ultramontane Socialism--Erasmus invited--Wolsey's last

Flight--Energetic Efforts at Rome--Clement grants

all--Wolsey triumphs--Union of Rome and England.

[Sidenote: FOX'S REPORT TO HENRY AND ANNE.]

During this time Fox was making his way to England. On the 27th of

April he reached Paris; on the 2nd of May he landed at Sandwich, and

hastened to Greenwich, where he arrived the next day at five in the

evening, just as Wolsey had left for London. Fox's arrival was an

event of great importance. "Let him go to Lady Anne's apartments,"

said the king, "and wait for me there." Fox told Anne Boleyn of his

and Gardiner's exertions, and the success of their mission, at which

she expressed her very great satisfaction. Indeed, more than a year

had elapsed since her return to England, and she no longer resisted

Henry's project. "Mistress Anne always called me Master Stephen,"

wrote Fox to Gardiner, "her thoughts were so full of you." The king

appeared and Anne withdrew.

[Sidenote: FOX REPORTS TO THE KING.]

"Tell me as briefly as possible what you have done," said Henry. Fox

placed in the king's hands the pope's insignificant letter, which he

bade his almoner read; then that from Staffileo, which was put on one

side; and lastly Gardiner's letter, which Henry took hastily and read

himself. "The pope has promised us," said Fox, as he terminated his

report, "to confirm the sentence of the divorce, as soon as it has

been pronounced by the commissioners."--"Excellent!" exclaimed Henry;

and then he ordered Anne to be called in. "Repeat before this lady,"

he said to Fox, "what you have just told me." The almoner did so. "The

pope is convinced of the justice of your cause," he said in

conclusion, "and the cardinal's letter has convinced him that my lady

is worthy of the throne of England."--"Make your report to Wolsey this

very night," said the king.

It was ten o'clock when the chief almoner reached the cardinal's

palace; he had gone to bed, but immediate orders were given that Fox

should be conducted to his room. Being a churchman, Wolsey could

understand the pope's artifices better than Henry; accordingly, as

soon as he learnt that Fox had brought the commission only, he became

alarmed at the task imposed upon him. "What a misfortune!" he

exclaimed; "your commission is no better than Gambara's.... However,

go and rest yourself; I will examine these papers to-morrow." Fox

withdrew in confusion. "It is not bad," said Wolsey the next day, "but

the whole business still falls on me alone!--Never mind, I must wear a

contented look, or else...." In the afternoon he summoned into his

closet Fox, Dr. Bell, and Viscount Rochford: "Master Gardiner has

surpassed himself," said the crafty supple cardinal; "What a man! what

an inestimable treasure! what a jewel in our kingdom!"[796]

[796] O non æstimandum thesaurum margaritamque regni nostri. Strype,

Records, i, p. 119.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S FRAUD.]

He did not mean a word he was saying. Wolsey was dissatisfied with

every thing,--with the refusal of the _decretal_, and with the drawing

up of the _commission_, as well as of the _engagement_ (which arrived

soon after in good condition, so far as the outside was concerned).

But the king's ill humour would infallibly recoil on Wolsey; so

putting a good face on a bad matter, he ruminated in secret on the

means of obtaining what had been refused him. "Write to Gardiner,"

said he to Fox, "that every thing makes me desire the pope's

_decretal_--the need of unburdening my conscience, of being able to

reply to the calumniators who will attack my judgment,[797] and the

thought of the accidents to which the life of man is exposed. Let his

holiness, then, pronounce the divorce himself; we engage on our part

to keep his resolution secret. But order Master Stephen to employ

every kind of persuasion that his _rhetoric_ can imagine." In case the

pope should positively refuse the decretal, Wolsey required that at

least Campeggio should share the responsibility of the divorce with

him.

[797] Justissime obstruere ora calumniantium et temere dissentientium.

Ibid. p. 120.

This was not all: while reading the engagement, Wolsey discovered the

loophole which had escaped Gardiner, and this is what he

contrived:--"The _engagement_ which the pope has sent us," he wrote to

Gardiner, "is drawn up in such terms that he can retract it at

pleasure; we must therefore find some _good way_ to obtain another.

You may do it under this pretence. You will appear before his holiness

with a dejected air, and tell him that the courier, to whom the

conveyance of the said engagement was intrusted, fell into the water

with his despatches, so that the rescripts were totally defaced and

illegible; that I have not dared deliver it into the king's hands, and

unless his holiness will grant you a duplicate, some notable blame

will be imputed unto you for not taking better care in its

transmission. And further, you will continue: I remember the

expressions of the former document, and to save your holiness trouble,

I will dictate them to your secretary. Then," added Wolsey, "while the

secretary is writing, you will find means to introduce, without its

being perceived, as many _fat_, _pregnant_, and available words as

possible, to bind the pope and enlarge my powers, the politic handling

of which the king's highness and I commit unto your good

discretion."[798]

[798] Burnet, Records, p. xxx.

Such was the expedient invented by Wolsey. The papal secretary,

imagining he was making a fresh copy of the original document (which

was, by the way, in perfect condition), was at the dictation of the

ambassador to draw up another of a different tenor. The "politic

handling" of the cardinal-legate, which was not very unlike forgery,

throws a disgraceful light on the policy of the sixteenth century.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S HYPOCRISY.]

Wolsey read this letter to the chief-almoner; and then, to set his

conscience at rest, he added piously: "In an affair of such high

importance, on which depends the glory or the ruin of the realm,--my

honour or my disgrace--the condemnation of my soul or my everlasting

merit--I will listen solely to the voice of my conscience,[799] and I

shall act in such a manner as to be able to render an account to God

without fear."

[799] Reclamante conscientia. Strype, Records, i. p. 124.

Wolsey did more; it seems that the boldness of his declarations

reassured him with regard to the baseness of his works. Being at

Greenwich on the following Sunday, he said to the king in the presence

of Fox, Bell, Wolman, and Tuke: "I am bound to your royal person more

than any subject was ever bound to his prince. I am ready to sacrifice

my goods, my blood, my life for you.... But my obligations towards God

are greater still. For that cause, rather than act against his will, I

would endure the extremest evils.[800] I would suffer your royal

indignation, and, if necessary, deliver my body to the executioners

that they might cut it in pieces." What could be the spirit then

impelling Wolsey? Was it blindness or impudence? He may have been

sincere in the words he addressed to Henry; at the bottom of his heart

he may have desired to set the pope above the king, and the church of

Rome above the kingdom of England; and this desire may have appeared

to him a sublime virtue, such as would hide a multitude of sins. What

the public conscience would have called treason, was heroism to the

Romish priest. This zeal for the papacy is sometimes met with in

conjunction with the most flagrant immorality. If Wolsey deceived the

pope, it was to save popery in the realm of England. Fox, Bell,

Wolman, and Tuke listened to him with astonishment.[801] Henry, who

thought he knew his man, received these holy declarations without

alarm, and the cardinal having thus eased his conscience, proceeded

boldly to his iniquities. It seems, however, that the inward

reproaches which he silenced in public, had their revenge in secret.

One of his officers entering his closet shortly afterwards, presented

a letter addressed to Campeggio for his signature. It ended thus: "I

hope all things shall be done according to the will of God, the desire

of the king, the quiet of the kingdom, and to our honour _with a good

conscience_." The cardinal having read the letter, dashed out the four

last words.[802] Conscience has a sting from which none can escape,

not even a Wolsey.

[800] Extrema quæque.....contra conscientiam suam. (Strype, Records,

i. p. 126.) Any extreme whatever ... contrary to his conscience.

[801] To my great mervail and no less joy and comfort. Ibid. p. 126.

[802] Burnet's Ref. vol. i, p. 41.

However, Gardiner lost no time in Italy. When he met Campeggio (to

whom Henry VIII had given a palace at Rome, and a bishopric in

England), he entreated him to go to London and pronounce the divorce.

This prelate, who was to be empowered in 1530 with authority to crush

Protestantism in Germany, seemed bound to undertake a mission that

would save Romanism in Britain. But proud of his position at Rome,

where he acted as the pope's representative, he cared not for a charge

that would undoubtedly draw upon him either Henry's hatred or the

emperor's anger. He begged to be excused. The pope spoke in a similar

tone. When he was informed of this, the terrible Tudor, beginning to

believe that Clement desired to entangle him, as the hunter entangles

the lion in his toils, gave vent to his anger on Tuke, Fox, and

Gardiner, but particularly on Wolsey. Nor were reasons wanting for

this explosion. The cardinal, perceiving that his hatred against

Charles had carried him too far, pretended that it was without his

orders that Clarencieux, bribed by France, had combined with the

French ambassador to declare war against the emperor; and added that

he would have the English king-at-arms put to death as he passed

through Calais. This was an infallible means of preventing

disagreeable revelations. But the herald, who had been forewarned,

crossed by way of Boulogne, and, without the cardinal's knowledge,

obtained an interview with Henry, before whom he placed the _orders_

he had received from Wolsey in _three_ consecutive letters. The king,

astonished at his minister's impudence, exclaimed profanely: "O Lord

Jesu, the man in whom I had most confidence told me quite the

contrary." He then summoned Wolsey before him, and reproached him

severely for his falsehoods. The wretched man shook like a leaf. Henry

appeared to pardon him, but the season of his favour had passed away.

Henceforward he kept the cardinal as one of those instruments we make

use of for a time, and then throw away when we have no further need of

them.

[Sidenote: HE BEGINS TO TREMBLE.]

The king's anger against the pope far exceeded that against Wolsey; he

trembled from head to foot, rose from his seat, then sat down again,

and vented his wrath in the most violent language:--"What!" he

exclaimed, "I shall exhaust my political combinations, empty my

treasury, make war upon my friends, consume my forces ... and for

whom?... for a heartless priest who, considering neither the

exigencies of my honour, nor the peace of my conscience, nor the

prosperity of my kingdom, nor the numerous benefits which I have

lavished on him, refuses me a favour, which he ought, as the common

father of the faithful, to grant even to an enemy.... Hypocrite!...

You cover yourself with the cloak of friendship, you flatter us by

crafty practices,[803] but you give us only a bastard document, and

you say like Pilate: It matters little to me if this king perishes,

and all his kingdom with him; take him and judge him according to your

law!... I understand you ... you wish to entangle us in the

briers,[804] to catch us in a trap, to lure us into a pitfall.... But

we have discovered the snare; we shall escape from your ambuscade, and

brave your power."

[803] By crafty means and under the face and visage of entire amity.

Strype, vol. i, p. 166.

[804] To involve and cast us so in the briers and fetters. Strype,

vol. i. p. 166.

[Sidenote: SIR T. MORE'S PROPHECY.]

Such was the language then heard at the court of England, says an

historian.[805] The monks and priests began to grow alarmed, while the

most enlightened minds already saw in the distance the first gleams of

religious liberty. One day, at a time when Henry was proving himself a

zealous follower of the Romish doctrines, Sir Thomas More was sitting

in the midst of his family, when his son-in-law, Roper, now become a

warm papist, exclaimed: "Happy kingdom of England, where no heretic

dares show his face!"--"That is true, son Roper," said More; "we seem

to sit now upon the mountains, treading the heretics under our feet

like ants; but I pray God that some of us do not live to see the day

when we gladly would wish to be at league with them, to suffer them to

have their churches quietly to themselves, so that they would be

content to let us have ours peaceably to ourselves." Roper angrily

replied:[806] "By my word, sir, that is very desperately spoken!"

More, however, was in the right; genius is sometimes a great diviner.

The Reformation was on the point of inaugurating religious liberty,

and by that means placing civil liberty on an immovable foundation.

[805] Ibid.

[806] My uncle said in a rage. More's Life, p. 132.

[Sidenote: ROMANISM AND CONSCIENCE.]

Henry himself grew wiser by degrees. He began to have doubts about the

Roman hierarchy, and to ask himself, whether a priest-king,

embarrassed in all the political complications of Europe, could be the

head of the church of Jesus Christ. Pious individuals in his kingdom

recognized in Scripture and in conscience a law superior to the law of

Rome, and refused to sacrifice at the command of the church their

moral convictions, sanctioned by the revelation of God. The

hierarchical system, which claims to absorb man in the papacy, had

oppressed the consciences of Christians for centuries. When the Romish

Church had required from such as Berengarius, John Huss, Savonarola,

John Wesel, and Luther, the denial of their consciences enlightened by

the word, that is to say, by the voice of God, it had shown most

clearly how great is the immorality of ultramontane socialism. "If the

Christian consents to this enormous demand of the hierarchy," said

the most enlightened men; "if he renounces his own notions of good and

evil in favour of the clergy; if he reserves not his right to obey

God, who speaks to him in the Bible, rather than men, even if their

agreement were universal; if Henry VIII, for instance, should silence

his conscience, which condemns his union with his brother's widow, to

obey the clerical voice which approves of it; by that very act he

renounces truth, duty, and even God himself." But we must add, that if

the rights of conscience were beginning to be understood in England,

it was not about such holy matters as these that the pope and Henry

were contending. They were both intriguers--both dissatisfied, the one

desirous of love, the other of power.

Be that as it may, a feeling of disgust for Rome then took root in the

king's heart, and nothing could afterwards eradicate it. He

immediately made every exertion to attract Erasmus to London. Indeed,

if Henry separated from the pope, his old friends, the humanists, must

be his auxiliaries, and not the heretical doctors. But Erasmus, in a

letter dated 1st June, alleged the weak state of his health, the

robbers who infested the roads, the wars and rumours of wars then

afloat. "Our destiny leads us," he said; "let us yield to it."[807] It

is a fortunate thing for England that Erasmus was not its reformer.

[807] Fatis agimur, fatis oedendum. Erasm. Epp. p. 1032.

Wolsey noted this movement of his master's, and resolved to make a

strenuous effort to reconcile Clement and Henry; his own safety was at

stake. He wrote to the pope, to Campeggio, to Da Casale, to all Italy.

He declared that if he was ruined, the popedom would be ruined too, so

far at least as England was concerned: "I would obtain the _decretal_

bull with my own blood, if possible,"[808] he added. "Assure the holy

father on my life that no mortal eye shall see it." Finally, he

ordered the chief-almoner to write to Gardiner: "If Campeggio does not

come, _you shall never return_ to England;"[809] an infallible means

of stimulating the secretary's zeal.

[808] Ut vel proprio sanguine id vellemus posse a S. D. N. impetrare.

Burnet, Records, ii. p. 19.

[809] Neither should Gardiner ever return. Strype, i. p. 167.

[Sidenote: CLEMENT GRANTS ALL THE BULLS.]

This was the last effort of Henry VIII. Bourbon and the Prince of

Orange had not employed more zeal a year before in scaling the walls

of Rome. Wolsey's fire had inflamed his agents; they argued,

entreated, stormed, and threatened. The alarmed cardinals and

theologians, assembling at the pope's call, discussed the matter,

mixing political interests with the affairs of the church.[810] At

last they understood what Wolsey now communicated to them. "Henry is

the most energetic defender of the faith," they said. "It is only by

acceding to his demand that we can preserve the kingdom of England to

the popedom. The army of Charles is in full flight, and that of

Francis triumphs." The last of these arguments decided the question;

the pope suddenly felt a great sympathy for Wolsey and for the English

Church; the emperor was beaten; therefore he was wrong. Clement

granted everything.

[810] Negotia ecclesiastica politicis rationibus interpolantes. Sand.

p. 27.

First, Campeggio was desired to go to London. The pontiff knew that he

might reckon on his intelligence and inflexible adhesion to the

interests of the hierarchy; even the cardinal's gout was of use, for

it might help to innumerable delays. Next, on the 8th of June, the

pope, then at Viterbo, gave a new commission, by which he conferred on

Wolsey and Campeggio the power to declare null and void the marriage

between Henry and Catherine, with liberty for the king and queen to

form new matrimonial ties.[811] A few days later he signed the famous

_decretal_ by which he himself annulled the marriage between Henry and

Catherine; but instead of intrusting it to Gardiner, he gave it to

Campeggio, with orders not to let it go out of his hands. Clement was

not sure of the course of events: if Charles should decidedly lose his

power, the bull would be published in the face of Christendom; if he

should recover it, the bull would be burnt.[812] In fact the flames

did actually consume some time afterwards this decree which Clement

had wetted with his tears as he put his name to it. Finally, on the

23rd of July, the pope signed a valid _engagement_, by which he

declared beforehand that all retractation of these acts should be

_null and void_.[813] Campeggio and Gardiner departed. Charles's

defeat was as complete at Rome as at Naples; the justice of his cause

had vanished with his army.

[811] Ad alia vota commigrandi. Herbert, p. 262.

[812] State Papers, vol. vii. p. 78. Dr. Lingard acknowledges the

existence of this bull and the order to burn it.

[813] Si (quod absit) aliquid contra præmissa faciamus, illud pro

casso, irrito, inani et vacuo omnino haberi volumus. (Herbert, p.

250.) If (which, however, let it not happen) we should do anything

contrary to this despatch, we wish it to be regarded as useless,

invalid, worthless, and altogether void.

[Sidenote: JOY IN ENGLAND.]

Nothing, therefore, was wanting to Henry's desires. He had Campeggio,

the commission, the decretal bull of divorce signed by the pope, and

the engagement giving an irrevocable value to all these acts. Wolsey

was conqueror,--the conqueror of Clement!... He had often wished to

mount the restive courser of the popedom and to guide it at his will,

but each time the unruly steed had thrown him from the saddle. Now he

was firm in his seat, and held the horse in hand. Thanks to Charles's

reverses, he was master at Rome. The popedom, whether it was pleased

or not, must take the road he had chosen, and before which it had so

long recoiled. The king's joy was unbounded, and equalled only by

Wolsey's. The cardinal, in the fulness of his heart, wishing to show

his gratitude to the officers of the Roman court, made them presents

of carpets, horses, and vessels of gold.[814] All near Henry felt the

effects of his good humour. Anne smiled; the court indulged in

amusements; the _great affair_ was about to be accomplished; the New

Testament to be delivered to the flames. The union between England and

the popedom appeared confirmed for ever, and the victory which Rome

seemed about to gain in the British isles might secure her triumph in

the west. Vain omens! far different were the events in the womb of the

future.

[814] Num illi, aulæa, vas aureum aut equi maxime probentur. Burnet,

Records, i. p. xv.

BOOK XX.

THE TWO DIVORCES.

CHAPTER I.

Progress of the Reformation--The two Divorces--Entreaties to

Anne Boleyn--The Letters in the Vatican--Henry to

Anne--Henry's Second Letter--Third--Fourth--Wolsey's

Alarm--His fruitless Proceedings--He turns--The Sweating

Sickness--Henry's Fears--New Letters to Anne--Anne falls

sick; her Peace--Henry writes to her--Wolsey's

Terror--Campeggio does not arrive--All dissemble at Court.

While England seemed binding herself to the court of Rome, the general

course of the church and of the world gave stronger presage every day

of the approaching emancipation of Christendom. The respect which for

so many centuries had hedged in the Roman Pontiff was everywhere

shaken; the Reform, already firmly established in several states of

Germany and Switzerland, was extending in France, the Low Countries,

and Hungary, and beginning in Sweden, Denmark, and Scotland. The South

of Europe appeared indeed submissive to the Romish church; but Spain,

at heart, cared little for the pontifical infallibility; and even

Italy began to inquire whether the papal dominion was not an obstacle

to her prosperity. England, notwithstanding appearances, was also

going to throw off the yoke of the bishops of the Tiber, and many

faithful voices might already be heard demanding that the word of God

should be acknowledged the supreme authority in the church.

[Sidenote: TWO SORTS OF TEACHING.]

The conquest of Christian Britain by the papacy occupied all the

seventh century, as we have seen. The sixteenth was the counterpart of

the seventh. The struggle which England then had to sustain, in order

to free herself from the power that had enslaved her during nine

hundred years, was full of sudden changes; like those of the times of

Augustine and Oswy. This struggle indeed took place in each of the

countries where the church was reformed; but nowhere can it be traced

in all its diverse phases so distinctly as in Great Britain. The

positive work of the Reformation--that which consisted in recovering

the truth and life so long lost--was nearly the same everywhere; but

as regards the negative work--the struggle with the popedom--we might

almost say that other nations committed to England the task by which

they were all to profit. An unenlightened piety may perhaps look upon

the relations of the court of London with the court of Rome, at the

period of the Reformation, as void of interest to the faith; but

history will not think the same. It has been too often forgotten that

the main point in this contest was not the divorce (which was only the

occasion), but the contest itself and its important consequences. The

divorce of Henry Tudor and Catherine of Aragon is a secondary event;

but the divorce of England and the popedom is a primary event, one of

the great evolutions of history, a creative act (so to speak) which

still exercises a normal influence over the destinies of mankind. And

accordingly everything connected with it is full of instruction for

us. Already a great number of pious men had attached themselves to the

authority of God; but the king, and with him that part of the nation,

strangers to the evangelical faith, clung to Rome, which Henry had so

valiantly defended. The word of God had spiritually separated England

from the papacy; the _great matter_ separated it materially. There is

a close relationship between these two divorces, which gives extreme

importance to the process between Henry and Catherine. When a great

revolution is to be effected in the bosom of a people (we have the

Reformation particularly in view), God instructs the minority by the

Holy Scriptures, and the majority by the dispensations of the divine

government. Facts undertake to push forward those whom the more

spiritual voice of the word leaves behind. England, profiting by this

great teaching of facts, has thought it her duty ever since to avoid

all contact with a power that had deceived her; she has thought that

popery could not have the dominion over a people without infringing on

its vitality, and that it was only by emancipating themselves from

this priestly dictatorship that modern nations could advance safely in

the paths of liberty, order, and greatness.

[Sidenote: ANNE'S HESITATION.]

History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, Volume 5 The Reformation in England · 第 23 / 26 章