names of all the cardinals, marking with the letter _A_ those who were
on the side of the kings of England and France, and with the letter
_B_ all who favoured the emperor. "There was no _C_," says a
chronicler sarcastically, "to signify any on _Christ's_ side." The
letter _N_ designated the neutrals. "The cardinals present," said
Wolsey, "will not exceed thirty-nine, and we must have two-thirds,
that is, twenty-six. Now, there are twenty upon whom we can reckon; we
must therefore, at any price, gain six of the neutrals."
[Sidenote: MEANS TO GAIN THE TIARA.]
Wolsey, deeply sensible of the importance of an election that would
decide whether England was to be reformed or not, carefully drew up
the instructions, which Henry signed and which history must register.
"We desire and ordain," the ambassadors were informed in them, "that
you secure the election of the cardinal of York; not forgetting that
next to the salvation of his own soul, there is nothing the king
desires more earnestly.
"To gain over the neutral cardinals you will employ two methods in
particular. The first is, the cardinals being present, and having God
and the Holy Ghost before them, you shall remind them that the
cardinal of York alone can save Christendom.
"The second is, because human fragility suffereth not all things to be
pondered and weighed in a just balance, it appertaineth in matter of
so high importance, to the comfort and relief of all Christendom, to
succour the infirmity that may chance ... not for corruption, you will
understand ... but rather to help the lacks and defaults of human
nature. And, therefore, it shall be expedient that you promise
spiritual offices, dignities, rewards of money, or other things which
shall seem meet to the purpose.
"Then shall you, with good dexterity, combine and knit those
favourable to us in a perfect fastness and indissoluble knot. And that
they may be the better animated to finish the election to the king's
desire, you shall offer them a guard of 2000 or 3000 men from the
kings of England and France, from the viscount of Turin, and the
republic of Venice.
"If, notwithstanding all your exertions, the election should fail,
then the cardinals of the kings shall repair to some sure place, and
there proceed to such an election as may be to God's pleasure.
"And to win more friends for the king, you shall promise, on the one
hand, to the Cardinal de' Medici and his party our special favour; and
the Florentines, on the other hand, you shall put in comfort of the
exclusion of the said family De' Medici. Likewise you shall put the
cardinals in perfect hope of recovering the patrimony of the church;
and you shall contain the Venetians in good trust of a reasonable way
to be taken for Cervia and Ravenna (which formed part of the
patrimony) to their contentment."[929]
[929] Foxe, iv. p. 604-608.
Such were the means by which the cardinal hoped to win the papal
throne. To the right he said _yes_, to the left he said _no_. What
would it matter that these perfidies were one day discovered, provided
it were after the election. Christendom might be very certain that the
choice of the future pontiff would be the work of the Holy Ghost.
Alexander VI had been a poisoner; Julius II had given way to ambition,
anger, and vice; the liberal Leo X had passed his life in worldly
pursuits; the unhappy Clement VII had lived on stratagems and lies;
Wolsey would be their worthy successor:
"All the seven deadly sins have worn the triple crown."[930]
[930] Les sept peches mortels ont porte la tiare. Casimir Delavigne,
Derniers chants, le Conclave.
[Sidenote: THE DIVORCE DEMANDED.]
Wolsey found his excuse in the thought, that if he succeeded, the
divorce was secured, and England enslaved for ever to the court of
Rome.
Success at first appeared probable. Many cardinals spoke openly in
favour of the English prelate; one of them asked for a detailed
account of his life, in order to present it as a model to the church;
another worshipped him (so he said) as a divinity.... Among the gods
and popes adored at Rome there were some no better than he. But ere
long alarming news reached England. What grief! the pope was getting
better. "Conceal your instructions," wrote the cardinal, "and reserve
them _in omnem eventum_."
Wolsey not having obtained the tiara, it was necessary at least to
gain the divorce. "God declares," said the English ambassadors to the
pope, "_except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that
build it_.[931] Therefore, the king, taking God alone for his guide,
requests of you, in the first place, an engagement to pronounce the
divorce in the space of three months, and in the second the avocation
to Rome."--"The promise first, and only after that the avocation,"
Wolsey had said; "for I fear that if the pope begins with the
avocation, he will never pronounce the divorce."--"Besides," added the
envoys, "the king's second marriage admits of no refusal, whatever
bulls or briefs there may be.[932] The only issue of this matter is
the divorce; the divorce in one way or another must be procured."
[931] Where Christ is not the foundation, surely no building can be of
good work. State Papers, vii. p. 122.
[932] Convolare ad secundas nuptias non patitur negativum. Ibid. p.
138.
Wolsey had instructed his envoys to pronounce these words with a
certain air of familiarity, and at the same time with a gravity
calculated to produce an effect.[933] His expectations were deceived:
Clement was colder than ever. He had determined to abandon England in
order that he might secure the States of the Church, of which Charles
was then master, thus sacrificing the spiritual to the temporal. "The
pope will not do the least thing for your majesty," wrote Bryan to the
king; "your matter may well be in his _Pater noster_, but it certainly
is not in his _Credo_."[934] "Increase in importunity," answered the
king; "the cardinal of Verona should remain about the pope's person
and counterbalance the influence of De Angelis and the archbishop of
Capua. I would rather lose my two crowns than be beaten by these two
friars."
[933] Which words, fashioned with a familiarity and somewhat with
earnestness and gravity. Ibid.
[934] Ibid. vol. i, p. 330.
[Sidenote: THE POPE'S TERGIVERSATIONS.]
Thus was the struggle about to become keener than ever, when Clement's
relapse once more threw doubt on every thing. He was always between
life and death; and this perpetual alternation agitated the king and
the impatient cardinal in every way. The latter considered that the
pope had need of _merits_ to enter the kingdom of heaven. "Procure an
interview with the pope," he wrote to the envoys, "even though he be
in the very agony of death;[935] and represent to him that nothing
will be more likely _to save his soul_ than the bill of divorce."
Henry's commissioners were not admitted; but towards the end of March,
the deputies appearing in a body,[936] the pope promised to examine
the letter from Spain. Vannes began to fear this document; he
represented that those who had fabricated it would have been able to
give it an appearance of authenticity. "Rather declare immediately
that this brief is not a brief," said he to the pope. "The king of
England, who is your holiness's son, is not so like the rest of the
world. We cannot put the same shoe on every foot."[937] This rather
vulgar argument did not touch Clement. "If to content your master in
this business," said he, "I cannot employ my head, at least I will my
finger."[938]--"Be pleased to explain yourself," replied Vannes, who
found the _finger_ a very little matter.--"I mean," resumed the
pontiff, "that I shall employ every means, provided they are
_honourable_." Vannes withdrew disheartened.
[935] Burnet's Ref. i. p. 49.
[936] Postquam conjunctim omnes. State Papers, vii. p. 154.
[937] Uno eodemque calceo omnium pedes velle vestire. Ibid. p. 156.
[938] Quod forsan non licebit toto capite assequi, in eo digitum
imponam. Ibid. p. 157.
He immediately conferred with his colleagues, and all together,
alarmed at the idea of Henry's anger, returned to the pontiff; they
thrust aside the lackeys, who endeavoured to stop them, and made their
way into his bed-chamber. Clement opposed them with that resistance of
inertia by which the popedom has gained its greatest victories:
_siluit_, he remained silent. Of what consequence to the pontiff were
Tudor, his island, and his church, when Charles of Austria was
threatening him with his armies? Clement, less proud than Hildebrand,
submitted willingly to the emperor's power, provided the emperor would
protect him. "I had rather," he said, "be Cæsar's servant, not only in
a temple, but in a stable if necessary, than be exposed to the insults
of rebels and vagabonds."[939] At the same time he wrote to Campeggio:
"Do not irritate the king, but spin out this matter as much as
possible;[940] the Spanish brief gives us the means."
[939] Malle Cæsari a stabulo nedum a sacris inservire, quam inferiorum
hominum subditorum, vassalorum, rebellium injurias sustinere. Herbert,
vol. i, p. 261.
[940] Le Grand, vol. i, p. 131.
[Sidenote: STRATAGEMS AND DELAYS.]
In fact, Charles V had twice shown Lee the original document, and
Wolsey, after this ambassador's report, began to believe that it was
not Charles who had forged the brief, but that Pope Julius II had
really given two contradictory documents on the same day. Accordingly
the cardinal now feared to see this letter in the pontiff's hands. "Do
all you can to dissuade the pope from seeking the original in Spain,"
wrote he to one of his ambassadors; "it may exasperate the emperor."
We know how cautious the cardinal was towards Charles. Intrigue
attained its highest point at this epoch, and Englishmen and Romans
encountered craft with craft. "In such ticklish negotiations," says
Burnet, (who had had some little experience in diplomacy) "ministers
must say and unsay as they are instructed, which goes of course as a
part of their business."[941] Henry's envoys to the pope intercepted
the letters sent from Rome, and had Campeggio's seized.[942] On his
part the pope indulged in flattering smiles and perfidious
equivocations. Bryan wrote to Henry VIII: "Always your grace hath done
for him in deeds, and he hath recompensed you with fair _words_, and
fair _writings_, of which both I think your grace shall lack none; but
as for the _deeds_, I never believe to see them, and especially at
this time."[943] Bryan had comprehended the court of Rome better
perhaps than many politicians. Finally, Clement himself, wishing to
prepare the king for the blow he was about to inflict, wrote to him:
"We have been able to find nothing that would satisfy your
ambassadors."[944]
[941] Burnet's Ref. vol. i. p. 54.
[942] De intercipiendis literis. State Papers, vol. vii, p. 185.
[943] Ibid. p. 167.
[944] He added: Tametsi noctes ac dies per nos ipsi, ac per
juris-peritissimos viros omnes vias tentemus. (Ibid. p. 165.) Although
night and day by ourselves, and along with the most skilful lawyers,
we try all ways.
Henry thought he knew what this message meant: that he had found
nothing, and would find nothing; and accordingly this prince, who, if
we may believe Wolsey, had hitherto shown incredible patience and
gentleness,[945] gave way to all his violence. "Very well then," said
he; "my lords and I well know how to withdraw ourselves from the
authority of the Roman see." Wolsey turned pale, and conjured his
master not to rush into that fearful abyss;[946] Campeggio, too,
endeavoured to revive the king's hopes. But it was all of no use.
Henry recalled his ambassadors.
[945] Incredibili patientia et humanitate. Burnet, Records, p. xxxii.
[946] Ne præceps huc vel illuc rex hic ruat curamus. Ibid. p. xxxiii.
Henry, it is true, had not yet reached the age when violent characters
become inflexible from the habit they have encouraged of yielding to
their passions. But the cardinal, who knew his master, knew also that
his inflexibility did not depend upon the number of his years; he
thought Rome's power in England was lost, and placed between Henry
and Clement, he exclaimed: "How shall I avoid Scylla, and not fall
into Charybdis?"[947] He begged the king to make one last effort by
sending Dr. Bennet to the pope with orders to support the avocation to
Rome, and he gave him a letter in which he displayed all the resources
of his eloquence. "How can it be imagined," he wrote, "that the
persuasions of sense urge the king to break a union in which the
ardent years of his youth were passed with such purity?[948]... The
matter is very different. I am on the spot, I know the state of men's
minds.... Pray, believe me.... The divorce is the secondary question;
the primary one is the _fidelity of this realm_ to the papal see. The
nobility, gentry, and citizens all exclaim with indignation: Must our
fortunes, and even our lives, depend upon the nod of a foreigner? We
must abolish, or at the very least diminish, the authority of the
Roman pontiff.[949]... Most holy father, we cannot mention such things
without a shudder."... This new attempt was also unavailing. The pope
demanded of Henry how he could doubt his good will, seeing that the
king of England had done so much for the apostolic see.[950] This
appeared a cruel irony to Tudor; the king requested a favour of the
pope, and the pope replied by calling to mind those which the papacy
had received from his hands. "Is this the way," men asked in England,
"in which Rome pays her debts?"
[947] Hanc Charybdin et hos scopulos evitasse. Burnet, Records, p.
xxxii.
[948] Sensuum suadela eam abrumpere cupiat consuetudinem. Ibid. p.
xxxiii.
[949] Qui nullam aut certe diminutam hic Romani pontificis
auctoritatem. Ibid.
[950] Dubitare non debes si quidem volueris recordare tua erga nos
merita. State Papers, vii, p. 178.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S EARNESTNESS.]
Wolsey had not reached the term of his misfortunes. Gardiner and Bryan
had just returned to London: they declared that to demand an avocation
to Rome was to lose their cause. Accordingly Wolsey, who turned to
every wind, ordered Da Casale, in case Clement should pronounce the
avocation, to appeal from the pope, the false head of the church, _to
the true vicar of Jesus Christ_.[951] This was almost in Luther's
style. Who was this true vicar? Probably a pope nominated by the
influence of England.
[951] A non vicario ad verum vicarium Jesu Christi. Ibid. p. 191.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S GRIEF.]
But this proceeding did not assure the cardinal: he was losing his
judgment. A short time before this Du Bellay, who had just returned
from Paris, whither he had gone to retain France on the side of
England, had been invited to Richmond by Wolsey. As the two prelates
were walking in the park, on that hill whence the eye ranges over the
fertile and undulating fields through which the winding Thames pours
its tranquil waters, the unhappy cardinal observed to the bishop: "My
trouble is the greatest that ever was!... I have excited and carried
on this matter of the divorce, to dissolve the union between the two
houses of Spain and England, by sowing misunderstanding between them,
as if I had no part in it.[952] You know it was in the interest of
France; I therefore entreat the king your master and her majesty to do
every thing that may forward the divorce. I shall esteem such a favour
more than if they made me pope; but if they refuse me, my ruin is
inevitable." And then giving way to despair, he exclaimed: "Alas!
would that I were going to be buried to-morrow!"
[952] Du Bellay to Montmorency, 22nd May. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 319.
The wretched man was drinking the bitter cup his perfidies had
prepared for him. All seemed to conspire against Henry, and Bennet was
recalled shortly after. It was said at court and in the city: "Since
the pope sacrifices us to the emperor, let us sacrifice the pope."
Clement VII, intimidated by the threats of Charles V, and tottering
upon his throne, madly repelled with his foot the bark of England.
Europe was all attention, and began to think that the proud vessel of
Albion, cutting the cable that bound her to the pontiffs, would boldly
spread her canvass to the winds, and ever after sail the sea alone,
wafted onwards by the breeze that comes from heaven.
The influence of Rome over Europe is in great measure political. It
loses a kingdom by a royal quarrel, and might in this same way lose
ten.
CHAPTER VII.
Discussion Between the Evangelicals and the Catholics--Union
of Learning and Life--The Laity--Tewkesbury--His Appearance
before the Bishop's Court--He is tortured--Two Classes of
Opponents--A Theological Duel--Scripture and the
Church--Emancipation of the Mind--Mission to the Low
Countries--Tyndale's Embarrassment--Tonstall wishes to buy
the Books--Packington's Stratagem--Tyndale departs for
Antwerp--His Shipwreck--Arrival at Hamburg--Meets Coverdale.
[Sidenote: EVANGELICALS AND CATHOLICS.]
Other circumstances from day to day rendered the emancipation of the
church more necessary. If behind these political debates there had
not been found a Christian people, resolved never to temporize with
error, it is probable that England, after a few years of independence,
would have fallen back into the bosom of Rome. The affair of the
divorce was not the only one agitating men's minds; the religious
controversies, which for some years filled the continent, were always
more animated at Oxford and Cambridge. The _Evangelicals_ and the
_Catholics_ (not very catholic indeed) warmly discussed the great
questions which the progress of events brought before the world. The
former maintained that the primitive church of the apostles and the
actual church of the papacy were not identical; the latter affirmed,
on the contrary, the identity of popery and apostolic Christianity.
Other Romish doctors in later times, finding this position somewhat
embarrassing, have asserted that Catholicism existed only _in the
germ_ in the apostolic church, and had subsequently developed itself.
But a thousand abuses, a thousand errors may creep into a church under
cover of this theory. A plant springs from the seed and grows up in
accordance with immutable laws; whilst a doctrine cannot be
transformed in the mind of man without falling under the influence of
sin. It is true that the disciples of popery have supposed a constant
action of the Divine Spirit in the Catholic church, which excludes
every influence of error. To stamp on the development of the church
the character of truth, they have stamped on the church itself the
character of infallibility; _quod erat demonstrandum_. Their reasoning
is a mere begging of the question. To know whether the Romish
development is identical with the Gospel, we must examine it by
Scripture.
It was not university men alone who occupied themselves with Christian
truth. The separation which has been remarked in other times between
the opinions of the people and of the learned, did not now exist. What
the doctors taught, the citizens practised; Oxford and London embraced
each other. The theologians knew that learning has need of life, and
the citizens believed that life has need of that learning which
derives the doctrine from the wells of the Scriptures of God. It was
the harmony between these two elements, the one theological, the other
practical, which constituted the strength of the English reformation.
[Sidenote: TEWKESBURY BEFORE THE BISHOPS.]
The evangelical life in the capital alarmed the clergy more than the
evangelical doctrine in the colleges. Since Monmouth had escaped, they
must strike another. Among the London merchants was John Tewkesbury,
one of the oldest friends of the Scriptures in England. As early as
1512 he had become possessor of a manuscript copy of the Bible, and
had attentively studied it; when Tyndale's New Testament appeared, he
read it with avidity; and, finally, _The Wicked Mammon_ had completed
the work of his conversion. Being a man of heart and understanding,
clever in all he undertook, a ready and fluent speaker, and liking to
get to the bottom of every thing, Tewkesbury like Monmouth became very
influential in the city, and one of the most learned in Scripture of
any of the evangelicals. These generous Christians, being determined
to consecrate to God the good things they had received from him, were
the first among that long series of laymen who were destined to be
more useful to the truth than many ministers and bishops. They found
time to interest themselves about the most trifling details of the
kingdom of God; and in the history of the Reformation in Britain their
names should be inscribed beside those of Latimer and Tyndale.
The activity of these laymen could not escape the cardinal's notice.
Clement VII was abandoning England: it was necessary for the English
bishops, by crushing the heretics, to show that they would not abandon
the popedom. We can understand the zeal of these prelates, and without
excusing their persecutions, we are disposed to extenuate their crime.
The bishops determined to ruin Tewkesbury. One day in April 1529, as
he was busy among his peltries, the officers entered his warehouse,
arrested him, and led him away to the bishop of London's chapel,
where, besides the ordinary (Tonstall), the bishops of Ely, St. Asaph,
Bath, and Lincoln, with the abbot of Westminster, were on the bench.
The composition of this tribunal indicated the importance of his case.
The emancipation of the laity, thought these judges, is perhaps a more
dangerous heresy than justification by faith.
[Sidenote: MORE'S ATTACK ON TYNDALE.]
"John Tewkesbury," said the bishop of London, "I exhort you to trust
less to your own wit and learning, and more unto the doctrine of the
holy mother the church." Tewkesbury made answer, that in his judgment
he held no other doctrine than that of the church of Christ. Tonstall
then broached the principal charge, that of having read the Wicked
Mammon, and after quoting several passages, he exclaimed: "Renounce
these errors."--"I find no fault in the book," replied Tewkesbury. "It
has enlightened my conscience and consoled my heart. But it is not my
Gospel. I have studied the Holy Scriptures these seventeen years, and
as a man sees the spots of his face in a glass, so by reading them I
have learnt the faults of my soul.[953] If there is a disagreement
between you and the New Testament, put yourselves in harmony with it,
rather than desire to put that in accord with you." The bishops were
surprised that a leather-seller should speak so well, and quote
Scripture so happily that they were unable to resist him.[954] Annoyed
at being catechised by a layman, the bishops of Bath, St. Asaph, and
Lincoln thought they could conquer him more easily by the rack than by
their arguments. He was taken to the Tower, where they ordered him to
be put to the torture. His limbs were crushed, which was contrary to
the laws of England, and the violence of the rack tore from him a cry
of agony to which the priests replied by a shout of exultation. The
inflexible merchant had promised at last to renounce Tyndale's Wicked
Mammon. Tewkesbury left the Tower "almost a cripple,"[955] and
returned to his house to lament the fatal word which the question had
extorted from him, and to prepare in the silence of faith to confess
in the burning pile the precious name of Christ Jesus.
[953] Foxe, iv. p. 690.
[954] Ibid. p. 689.
[955] Ibid.
We must, however, acknowledge that the "question" was not Rome's only
argument. The gospel had two classes of opponents in the sixteenth
century, as in the first ages of the church. Some attacked it with the
torture, others with their writings. Sir Thomas More, a few years
later, was to have recourse to the first of these arguments; but for
the moment he took up his pen. He had first studied the writings of
the Fathers of the church and of the Reformers, but rather as an
advocate than as a theologian; and then, armed at all points, he
rushed into the arena of polemics, and in his attacks dealt those
"technical convictions and that malevolent subtlety," says one of his
greatest admirers,[956] "from which the honestest men of his
profession are not free." Jests and sarcasms had fallen from his pen
in his discussion with Tyndale, as in his controversy with Luther.
Shortly after Tewkesbury's affair (in June, 1529) there appeared _A
Dialogue of Sir Thomas More, Knt., touching the pestilent Sect of
Luther and Tyndale, by the one begun in Saxony, and by the other
laboured to be brought into England_.[957]
[956] Nisard, Hommes illustres de la renaissance. _Revue des Deux
Mondes._
[957] The Dialogue consisted of 250 pages, and was printed by John
Rastell, More's brother-in-law. Tyndale's answer did not appear until
later; we have thought it our duty to introduce it here.
[Sidenote: A THEOLOGICAL DUEL.]
Tyndale soon became informed of More's publication, and a remarkable
combat ensued between these two representatives of the two doctrines
that were destined to divide Christendom--Tyndale the champion of
Scripture, and More the champion of the church. More having called his
book a _dialogue_, Tyndale adopted this form in his reply,[958] and
the two combatants valiantly crossed their swords, though wide seas
lay between them. This theological duel is not without importance in
the history of the Reformation. The struggles of diplomacy, of
sacerdotalism, and of royalty were not enough; there must be struggles
of doctrine. Rome had set the hierarchy above the faith; the
Reformation was to restore faith to its place above the hierarchy.
[958] Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue.
MORE. Christ said not, the Holy Ghost shall _write_, but shall
_teach_. Whatsoever the church says, it is the word of God, though it
be not in Scripture.
TYNDALE. What! Christ and the apostles not spoken of _Scriptures!...
These are written_, says St. John, _that ye believe and through belief
have life_. (1 John ii, 1; Rom. xv, 4; Matthew xxii, 29.)[959]
[959] Ibid. p. 101.
[Sidenote: APOSTLES AND REFORMERS.]
MORE. The apostles have taught by _mouth_ many things they did not
_write_, because they should not come into the hands of the heathen
for mocking.
TYNDALE. I pray you what thing more to be mocked by the heathen could
they teach than the resurrection; and that Christ was God and man, and
died between two thieves? And yet all these things the apostles
_wrote_. And again, purgatory, penance, and satisfaction for sin, and
praying to saints, are marvellous agreeable unto the superstition of
the heathen people, so that they need not to abstain from writing of
them for fear lest the heathen should have mocked them.[960]
[960] Ibid. p. 28, 29.
MORE. We must not examine the teaching of the church by Scripture, but
understand Scripture by means of what the church says.
TYNDALE. What! Does the air give light to the sun, or the sun to the
air? Is the church before the Gospel, or the Gospel before the church?
Is not the father older than the son? _God begat us with his own will,
with the word of truth_, says St. James (i, 18.) If he who begetteth
is before him who is begotten, the _word_ is before the _church_, or,
to speak more correctly, before the _congregation_.
MORE. Why do you say _congregation_ and not _church_?
TYNDALE. Because by that word _church_, you understand nothing but a
multitude of shorn and oiled, which we now call the spirituality or
clergy; while the word of right is common unto all the congregation of
them that believe in Christ.[961]
[961] Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue, p. 12, 13.
MORE. The church is the pope and his sect are followers.
TYNDALE. The pope teacheth us to trust in holy works for salvation, as
penance, saints' merits, and friars' coats.[962] Now, he that hath no
faith to be saved through Christ, is not of Christ's church.[963]
[962] Ibid. p. 40.
[963] Ibid. p. 39.
MORE. The Romish church from which the Lutherans came out, was before
them, and therefore is the right one.
TYNDALE. In like manner you may say, the church of the Pharisees,
whence Christ and his apostles came out, was before them, and was
therefore the right church, and consequently Christ and his disciples
are heretics.
MORE. No: the apostles came out from the church of the Pharisees
because they found not Christ there; but your priests in Germany and
elsewhere, have come out of our church, because they wanted wives.
TYNDALE. Wrong: ... these priests were at first attached to what you
call _heresies_, and then they took wives; but yours were first
attached to the _holy_ doctrine of the pope, and then they took
harlots.[964]
[964] Ibid. p. 104.
MORE. Luther's books be open, if you will not believe us.
TYNDALE. Nay, ye have shut them up, and have even burnt them.[965]...
[965] Ibid. p. 189.
MORE. I marvel that you deny _purgatory_, Sir William, except it be a
plain point with you to go straight to hell.[966]
[966] Ibid. p. 214.
TYNDALE. I know no other purging but faith in the cross of Christ;
while you, for a groat or a sixpence, buy some secret pills
[indulgences] which you take to purge yourselves of your sins.[967]
[967] Ibid.
MORE. Faith, then, is your purgatory, you say; there is no need,
therefore, of works--a most immoral doctrine!
TYNDALE. It is faith _alone_ that saves us, but not a _bare faith_.
When a horse beareth a saddle and a man thereon, we may well say that
the horse only and alone beareth the saddle, but we do not mean the
saddle empty, and no man thereon.[968]
[968] Ibid. p. 197.
In this manner did the catholic and the evangelical carry on the
discussion. According to Tyndale, what constitutes the true church is
the work of the Holy Ghost within; according to More, the constitution
of the papacy without. The spiritual character of the Gospel is thus
put in opposition to the formalist character of the Roman church. The
Reformation restored to our belief the solid foundation of the word of
God; for the sand it substituted the rock. In the discussion to which
we have just been listening, the advantage remained not with the
catholic. Erasmus, a friend of More's, embarrassed by the course the
latter was taking, wrote to Tonstall: "I cannot heartily congratulate
More."[969]
[969] Thomæ More non admodum gratulor. Erasm. Epp. p. 1478.
Henry interrupted the celebrated knight in these contests to send him
to Cambray, where a peace was negotiating between France and the
empire. Wolsey would have been pleased to go himself; but his enemies
suggested to the king, "that it was only that he might not expedite
the matter of the divorce." Henry, therefore, despatched More, Knight,
and Tonstall; but Wolsey had created so many delays that he did not
arrive until after the conclusion of the _Ladies' Peace_ (August
1529). The king's vexation was extreme. Du Bellay had in vain helped
him to spend a _good preparatory July_ to make him _swallow the
dose_.[970] Henry was angry with Wolsey, Wolsey threw the blame on the
ambassador, and the ambassador defended himself, he tells us, "with
tooth and nail."[971]
[970] Juillet préparatoire pour lui faire avaler la médecine.
[971] Du bec et des ongles. Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, iii.
p. 328.
[Sidenote: TREATY AGAINST LUTHERAN BOOKS.]
By way of compensation, the English envoys concluded with the emperor
a treaty prohibiting on both sides the printing and sale of "any
Lutheran books."[972] Some of them could have wished for a good
persecution, for a few burning piles, it may be. A singular
opportunity occurred. In the spring of 1529, Tyndale and Fryth had
left Marburg for Antwerp, and were thus in the vicinity of the English
envoys. What West had been unable to effect, it was thought the two
most intelligent men in Britain could not fail to accomplish. "Tyndale
must be captured," said More and Tonstall.--"You do not know what sort
of a country you are in," replied Hackett. "Will you believe that on
the 7th of April, Harman arrested me at Antwerp for damages, caused by
his imprisonment? If you can lay anything to my charge as a private
individual, I said to the officer, I am ready to answer for myself;
but if you arrest me as ambassador, I know no judge but the emperor.
Upon which the procurator had the audacity to reply, that I was
arrested _as ambassador_; and the lords of Antwerp only set me at
liberty on condition that I should appear again at the first
summons.[973] These merchants are so proud of their franchises, that
they would resist even Charles himself." This anecdote was not at all
calculated to encourage More; and not caring about a pursuit, which
promised to be of little use, he returned to England. But the bishop
of London, who was left behind, persisted in the project, and repaired
to Antwerp to put it in execution.
[972] Herbert, p. 316.
[973] Hackett to Wolsey, Brussels, 13th April, 1529. Bible Annals,
vol. i. p. 199.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE'S DANGER.]
Tyndale was at that time greatly embarrassed; considerable debts,
incurred with his printers, compelled him to suspend his labours. Nor
was this all: the prelate who had spurned him so harshly in London,
had just arrived in the very city where he lay concealed.... What
would become of him?... A merchant, named Augustin Packington, a
clever man, but somewhat inclined to dissimulation, happening to be at
Antwerp on business, hastened to pay his respects to the bishop. The
latter observed, in the course of conversation: "I should like to get
hold of the books with which England is poisoned." "I can perhaps
serve you in that matter," replied the merchant. "I know the Flemings,
who have bought Tyndale's books; so that if your lordship will be
pleased to pay for them, I will make you sure of them all."--"Oh, oh!"
thought the bishop, "Now, as the proverb says, I shall have God by the
toe.[974] Gentle Master Packington," he added in a flattering tone, "I
will pay for them whatsoever they cost you. I intend to burn them at
St. Paul's cross." The bishop, having his hand already on Tyndale's
Testaments, fancied himself on the point of seizing Tyndale himself.
[974] Foxe, iv, p. 670.
Packington, being one of those men who love to conciliate all parties,
ran off to Tyndale, with whom he was intimate, and said:--"William, I
know you are a poor man, and have a heap of New Testaments and books
by you, for which you have beggared yourself; and I have now found a
merchant who will buy them all, and with ready money too."--"Who is
the merchant?" said Tyndale.--"The bishop of London."--"Tonstall?...
If he buys my books, it can only be to burn them."--"No doubt,"
answered Packington; "but what will he gain by it? The whole world
will cry out against the priest who burns God's word, and the eyes of
many will be opened. Come, make up your mind, William; the bishop
shall have the books, you the money, and I the thanks."... Tyndale
resisted the proposal; Packington became more pressing. "The question
comes to this," he said; "shall the bishop pay for the books or shall
he not? for, make up your mind ... he will have them."--"I consent,"
said the Reformer at last; "I shall pay my debts, and bring out a new
and more correct edition of the Testament." The bargain was made.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE SHIPWRECKED.]
Erelong the danger thickened around Tyndale. Placards, posted at
Antwerp and throughout the province, announced that the emperor, in
conformity with the treaty of Cambray, was about to proceed against
the Reformers and their writings. Not an officer of justice appeared
in the street but Tyndale's friends trembled for his liberty. Under
such circumstances, how could he print his translation of Genesis and
Deuteronomy? He made up his mind about the end of August to go to
Hamburg, and take his passage in a vessel loading for that port.
Embarking with his books, his manuscripts, and the rest of his money,
he glided down the Scheldt, and soon found himself afloat on the
German ocean.
But one danger followed close upon another. He had scarcely passed the
mouth of the Meuse when a tempest burst upon him, and his ship, like
that of old which bore St. Paul, was almost swallowed up by the
waves.--"Satan, envying the happy course and success of the Gospel,"
says a chronicler, "set to his might how to hinder the blessed labours
of this man."[975] The seamen toiled, Tyndale prayed, all hope was
lost. The reformer alone was full of courage, not doubting that God
would preserve him for the accomplishment of his work. All the
exertions of the crew proved useless; the vessel was dashed on the
coast, and the passengers escaped with their lives. Tyndale gazed with
sorrow upon that ocean which had swallowed up his beloved books and
precious manuscripts, and deprived him of his resources.[976] What
labours, what perils! banishment, poverty, thirst, insults, watchings,
persecution, imprisonment, the stake!... Like Paul, he was in perils
by his own countrymen, in perils among strange people, in perils in
the city, in perils in the sea. Recovering his spirits, however, he
went on board another ship, entered the Elbe, and at last reached
Hamburg.
[975] Foxe, v, p. 120.
[976] Lost both his money, his copies.... Ibid.
Great joy was in store for him in that city. Coverdale, Foxe informs
us, was waiting there to confer with him, and to help him in his
labours.[977] It has been supposed that Coverdale went to Hamburg to
invite Tyndale, in Cromwell's name, to return to England;[978] but it
is merely a conjecture, and requires confirmation. As early as 1527,
Coverdale had made known to Cromwell his desire to translate the
Scriptures.[979] It was natural that, meeting with difficulties in
this undertaking, he should desire to converse with Tyndale. The two
friends lodged with a pious woman named Margaret van Emmersen, and
spent some time together in the autumn of 1529, undisturbed by the
sweating sickness which was making such cruel havoc all around them.
Coverdale returned to England shortly after; the two reformers had, no
doubt, discovered that it was better for each of them to translate the
Scriptures separately.
[977] Coverdale tarried for him and helped him. Ibid.
[978] Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 240.
[979] This is the date assigned in Coverdale's Remains. (Par. Soc.) p.
490.
Before Coverdale's return, Tonstall had gone back to London, exulting
at carrying with him the books he had bought so dearly. But when he
reached the capital, he thought he had better defer the meditated
_auto da fé_ until some striking event should give it increased
importance. And besides, just at that moment, very different matters
were engaging public attention on the banks of the Thames, and the
liveliest emotions agitated every mind.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Royal Session--Sitting of the 18th June; the Queen's
Protest--Sitting of the 21st June--Summons to the King and
Queen--Catherine's Speech--She retires--Impression on the
audience--The King's Declaration--Wolsey's Protest--Quarrel
between the Bishops--New sitting--Apparition to the Maid of
Kent--Wolsey chafed by Henry--The Earl of Wiltshire at
Wolsey's--Private Conference between Catherine and the two
Legates.
[Sidenote: THE ROYAL SESSION.]
Affairs had changed in England during the absence of Tonstall and
More; and even before their departure, events of a certain importance
had occurred. Henry, finding there was nothing more to hope from Rome,
had turned to Wolsey and Campeggio. The Roman nuncio had succeeded in
deceiving the king. "Campeggio is very different from what he is
reported," said Henry to his friends; "he is not for the emperor, as I
was told; I have said somewhat to him which has changed his
mind."[980] No doubt he had made some brilliant promise.
[980] Burnet, Records, p. xxxv.
[Sidenote: THE COMMISSION OPENED.]
Henry therefore, imagining himself sure of his two legates, desired
them to proceed with the matter of the divorce without delay. There
was no time to lose, for the king was informed that the pope was on
the point of recalling the commission given to the two cardinals; and
as early as the 19th of March, Salviati, the pope's uncle and
secretary of state, wrote to Campeggio about it.[981] Henry's process,
once in the court of the pontifical chancery, it would have been long
before it got out again. Accordingly, on the 31st of May, the king, by
a warrant under the great seal, gave the legates _leave_ to execute
their commission, "without any regard to his own person, and having
the fear of God only before their eyes."[982] The legates themselves
had suggested this formula to the king.
[981] E quanto altro non si possa, forse si pensera ad avvocare la
causa a se. Lettere di XIII uomini illustri, 19th March 1529.
[982] Ut solum Deum præ oculis habentes. Rymer, Acta ad annum.
On the same day the commission was opened; but to begin the process
was not to end it. Every letter which the nuncio received forbade him
to do so in the most positive manner. "Advance slowly and never
finish," were Clement's instructions.[983] The trial was to be a
farce, played by a pope and two cardinals.
[983] Sua beatitudine ricorda, che il procedere sia lento ed in modo
alcuno non si _venghi al giudicio_. To Card. Campeggio, 29th May,
1529. Lett. di Principi.
The ecclesiastical court met in the great hall of the Blackfriars,
commonly called the "parliament chamber." The two legates having
successively taken the commission in their hands, devoutly declared
that they were resolved to execute it (they should have said, to elude
it), made the required oaths, and ordered a peremptory citation of the
king and queen to appear on the 18th of June at nine in the morning.
Campeggio was eager to proceed _slowly_; the session was adjourned for
three weeks. The citation caused a great stir among the people.
"What!" said they, "a king and a queen constrained to appear, in their
own realm, before their own subjects." The papacy set an example which
was to be strictly followed in after-years both in England and in
France.
[Sidenote: A ROYAL SITTING.]
On the 18th of June Catherine appeared before the commission in the
parliament chamber, and stepping forward with dignity, said with a
firm voice: "I protest against the legates as incompetent judges, and
appeal to the pope."[984] This proceeding of the queen's, her pride
and firmness, troubled her enemies, and in their vexation they grew
exasperated against her. "Instead of praying God to bring this matter
to a good conclusion," they said, "she endeavours to turn away the
people's affections from the king. Instead of showing Henry the love
of a youthful wife, she keeps away from him night and day. There is
even cause to fear," they added, "that she is in concert with certain
individuals who have formed the horrible design of killing the king
and the cardinal."[985] But persons of generous heart, seeing only a
queen, a wife, and a mother, attacked in her dearest affections,
showed themselves full of sympathy for her.
[984] Se in illos tanquam judices suos non assentire, ad papam
provocavit. (Sanders, p. 32.) Refusing to acknowledge them as her
judges, she appealed to the pope.
[985] Burnet's Ref. i. p. 54.
On the 21st of June, the day to which the court adjourned, the two
legates entered the parliament chamber with all the pomp belonging to
their station, and took their seats on a raised platform. Near them
sat the bishops of Bath and Lincoln, the abbot of Westminster, and
Doctor Taylor, master of the Rolls, whom they had added to their
commission. Below them were the secretaries, among whom the skilful
Stephen Gardiner held the chief rank. On the right hung a cloth of
estate where the king sat surrounded by his officers; and on the left,
a little lower, was the queen, attended by her ladies. The archbishop
of Canterbury and the bishops were seated between the legates and
Henry VIII, and on both sides of the throne were stationed the
counsellors of the king and queen. The latter were Fisher, bishop of
Rochester, Standish of St. Asaph, West of Ely, and Doctor Ridley. The
people, when they saw this procession defile before them, were far
from being dazzled by the pomp. "Less show and more virtue," they
said, "would better become such judges."
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S APPEAL TO THE KING.]
The pontifical commission having been read, the legates declared that
they would judge without fear or favour, and would admit of neither
recusation nor appeal.[986] Then the usher cried: "Henry, king of
England, come into court." The king, cited in his own capital to
accept as judges two priests, his subjects, repressed the throbbing of
his proud heart, and replied, in the hope that this strange trial
would have a favourable issue: "Here I am." The usher continued:
"Catherine, queen of England, come into court." The queen handed the
cardinals a paper in which she protested against the legality of the
court, as the judges were the subjects of her opponent,[987] and
appealed to Rome. The cardinals declared they could not admit this
paper, and consequently Catherine was again called into court. At this
second summons she rose, devoutly crossed herself, made the circuit of
the court to where the king sat, bending with dignity as she passed in
front of the legates, and fell on her knees before her husband. Every
eye was turned upon her. Then speaking in English, but with a Spanish
accent, which by recalling the distance she was from her native home,
pleaded eloquently for her, Catherine said with tears in her eyes, and
in a tone at once dignified and impassioned:
"SIR,--I beseech you, for all the love that hath been between us, and
for the love of God, let me have justice and right; take some pity on
me, for I am a poor woman and a stranger, born out of your dominions.
I have here no assured friend, much less impartial counsel, and I flee
to you as to the head of justice within this realm. Alas! Sir, wherein
have I offended you, or what occasion given you of displeasure, that
you should wish to put me from you? I take God and all the world to
witness, that I have been to you a true, humble, and obedient wife,
ever conformable to your will and pleasure. Never have I said or done
aught contrary thereto, being always well pleased and content with all
things wherein you had delight; neither did I ever grudge in word or
countenance, or show a visage or spark of discontent. I loved all
those whom you loved, only for your sake. This twenty years I have
been your true wife, and by me ye have had divers children, although
it hath pleased God to call them out of this world, which yet hath
been no default in me."
[986] The king's letter to his ambassadors at Rome, 23rd June. Ibid.
Records, p. liv.
[987] Personas judicum non solum regi devinctas verum et subjectas
esse. (Sanders, p. 35.) Her judges were not only in the interest of
the king, but were even his subjects.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN WITHDRAWS.]
The judges, and even the most servile of the courtiers, were touched
when they heard these simple and eloquent words, and the queen's
sorrow moved them almost to tears. Catherine continued:--
"SIR,--When ye married me at the first, I take God to be my judge I
was a true maid; and whether it be true or not, I put it to your
conscience.... If there be any just cause that ye can allege against
me, I am contented to depart from your kingdom, albeit to my great
shame and dishonour; and if there be none, then let me remain in my
former estate until death. Who united us? The king, your father, who
was called the second Solomon; and my father, Ferdinand, who was
esteemed one of the wisest princes that, for many years before, had
reigned in Spain. It is not, therefore, to be doubted that the
marriage between you and me is good and lawful. Who are my judges? Is
not one the man that has put sorrow between you and me?[988]... a
judge whom I refuse and abhor!--Who are the councillors assigned me?
Are they not officers of the crown, who have made oath to you in your
own council?... Sir, I conjure you not to call me before a court so
formed. Yet, if you refuse me this favour ... your will be done.... I
shall be silent, I shall repress the emotions of my soul, and remit my
just cause to the hands of God."
[988] Qui dissensionem inter ipsam et virum suum. (Polyd. Virg. p.
688.) Who put dissension between her and her husband.
Thus spoke Catherine through her tears;[989] humbly bending, she
seemed to embrace Henry's knees. She rose and made a low obeisance to
the king. It was expected that she would return to her seat; but
leaning on the arm of Griffiths, her receiver-general, she moved
towards the door. The king, observing this, ordered her to be
recalled; and the usher following her, thrice cried aloud: "Catherine,
queen of England, come into court."--"Madam," said Griffiths, "you are
called back."--"I hear it well enough," replied the queen, "but go you
on, for this is no court wherein I can have justice: let us proceed."
Catherine returned to the palace, and never again appeared before the
court either by proxy or in person.[990]
[989] Hæc illa flebiliter dicente. Polyd. Virg. p. 686, and Cavendish.
[990] Burnet, Records, p. 36. In this letter the king says: Both we
and the queen appeared in person.
She had gained her cause in the minds of many. The dignity of her
person, the quaint simplicity of her speech, the propriety with which,
relying upon her innocence, she had spoken of the most delicate
subjects, and the tears which betrayed her emotion, had created a deep
impression. But "the sting in her speech," as an historian says,[991]
was her appeal to the king's conscience, and to the judgment of
Almighty God, on the capital point in the cause. "How could a person
so modest, so sober in her language," said many, "dare utter such a
falsehood? Besides, the king did not contradict her."
[991] Fuller, p. 173.
[Sidenote: HENRY JUSTIFIES HIMSELF.]
Henry was greatly embarrassed: Catherine's words had moved him.
Catherine's defence, one of the most touching in history, had gained
over the accuser himself. He therefore felt constrained to render this
testimony to the accused: "Since the queen has withdrawn, I will, in
her absence, declare to you all present, that she has been to me as
true and obedient a wife as I could desire. She has all the virtues
and good qualities that belong to a woman. She is as noble in
character as in birth."
But Wolsey was the most embarrassed of all. When the queen had said,
without naming him, that one of her judges was the cause of all her
misfortunes, looks of indignation were turned upon him.[992] He was
unwilling to remain under the weight of this accusation. As soon as
the king had finished speaking, he said: "Sir, I humbly beg your
majesty to declare before this audience, whether I was the first or
chief mover in this business." Wolsey had formerly boasted to Du
Bellay, "that the first project of the divorce was set on foot by
himself, to create a perpetual separation between the houses of
England and Spain;"[993] but now it suited him to affirm the contrary.
The king, who needed his services, took care not to contradict him.
"My lord cardinal," he said, "I can well excuse you herein. Marry, so
far from being a mover, ye have been rather against me in attempting
thereof. It was the bishop of Tarbes, the French ambassador, who begot
the first scruples in my conscience by his doubts on the legitimacy of
the princess Mary." This was not correct. The bishop of Tarbes was not
in England before the year 1527, and we have proofs that the king was
meditating a divorce in 1526.[994] "From that hour," he continued, "I
was much troubled, and thought myself in danger of God's heavy
displeasure, who, wishing to punish my incestuous marriage, had taken
away all the sons my wife had borne me. I laid my grief before you, my
lord of Lincoln, then being my ghostly father; and by your advice I
asked counsel of the rest of the bishops, and you all informed me
under your seals, that you shared in my scruples."--"That is the
truth," said the archbishop of Canterbury.--"No, Sir, not so, under
correction," quoth the bishop of Rochester, "you have not my hand and
seal."--"No?" exclaimed the king, showing him a paper which he held in
his hand; "is not this your hand and seal?"--"No, forsooth," he
answered. Henry's surprise increased, and turning with a frown to the
archbishop of Canterbury, he asked him: "What say you to that?" "Sir,
it is his hand and seal," replied Warham.--"It is not," rejoined
Rochester; "I told you I would never consent to any such act."--"You
say the truth," responded the archbishop, "but you were fully resolved
at the last, that I should subscribe your name and put your
seal."--"All which is untrue," added Rochester, in a passion. The
bishop was not very respectful to his primate. "Well, well," said the
king, wishing to end the dispute, "we will not stand in argument with
you; for you are but one man."[995] The court adjourned. The day had
been better for Catherine than for the prelates.
[992] Vidisses Wolseum infestis fere omnium oculis conspici. (Polyd.
Virg. p. 688.) You might see almost all eyes indignantly turned on
Wolsey.
[993] Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves, pp. 186, 319.
[994] See Pace's letter to Henry in 1526. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 1.
Pace there shows that it is incorrect to say: _Deuteronomium abrogare
Leviticum_ (Deuteronomy abrogates Leviticus), so far as concerns the
prohibition to take the wife of a deceased brother.
[995] Cavendish's Wolsey, p. 223.
In proportion as the first sitting had been pathetic, so the
discussions in the second between the lawyers and bishops were
calculated to revolt a delicate mind. The advocates of the two parties
vigorously debated pro and con respecting the consummation of Arthur's
marriage with Catherine. "It is a very difficult question," said one
of the counsel; "none can know the truth."--"But I know it," replied
the bishop of Rochester.--"What do you mean?" asked Wolsey.--"My
lord," he answered, "he was the very Truth who said: '_What God hath
joined together, let not man put asunder_' that is enough for
me."--"So everybody thinks," rejoined Wolsey; "but whether it was God
who united Henry of England and Catherine of Aragon, _hoc restat
probandum_, that remains to be proved. The king's council decides that
the marriage is unlawful, and consequently it was not _God who joined
them together_." The two bishops then exchanged a few words less
edifying than those of the preceding day. Several of the hearers
expressed a sentiment of disgust. "It is a disgrace to the court,"
said Doctor Ridley with no little indignation, "that you dare discuss
questions which fill every right-minded man with horror." This sharp
reprimand put an end to the debate.
[Sidenote: MESSAGE OF THE MAID OF KENT.]
The agitations of the court spread to the convents; priests, monks,
and nuns were every where in commotion. It was not long before
astonishing revelations began to circulate through the cloisters.
There was no talk then of an old portrait of the Virgin that winked
its eyes; but other miracles were invented. "An angel," it was
rumoured, "has appeared to Elizabeth Barton, the maid of Kent, as he
did formerly to Adam, to the patriarchs, and to Jesus Christ." At the
epochs of the creation and of the redemption, and in the times which
lead from one to the other, miracles are natural; God then appeared,
and his coming without any signs of power, would be as surprising as
the rising of the sun unattended by its rays of light. But the Romish
Church does not stop there; it claims in every age, for its saints,
the privilege of miraculous powers, and the miracles are multiplied in
proportion to the ignorance of the people. And accordingly the angel
said to the epileptic maid of Kent: "Go to the unfaithful king of
England, and tell him there are three things he desires, which I
forbid now and for ever. The first is the power of the pope; the
second the new doctrine; the third Anne Boleyn. If he takes her for
his wife, God will visit him." The vision-seeing maid delivered the
message to the king,[996] whom nothing could now stop.
[996] She showed this unto the king. Letter to Cromwell in Strype,
vol. i. p. 272.
[Sidenote: A HOT DAY.]
On the contrary, he began to find out that Wolsey proceeded too
slowly, and the idea sometimes crossed his mind that he was betrayed
by this minister. One fine summer's morning, Henry as soon as he rose
summoned the cardinal to him at Bridewell. Wolsey hastened thither,
and remained closeted with the king from eleven till twelve. The
latter gave way to all the fury of his passion and the violence of his
despotism. "We must finish this matter promptly," he said, "we must
positively." Wolsey retired very uneasy, and returned by the Thames to
Westminster. The sun darted his bright rays on the water. The bishop
of Carlisle, who sat by the cardinal's side, remarked, as he wiped his
forehead: "A very warm day, my lord."--"Yes," replied the unhappy
Wolsey, "if you had been _chafed_ for an hour as I have been, you
would say it was a _hot_ day." When he reached his palace, the
cardinal lay down on his bed to seek repose; he was not quiet long.
Catherine had grown in Henry's eyes, as well as in those of the
nation. The king shrank from a judgment; he even began to doubt of his
success. He wished that the queen would consent to a separation. This
idea occurred to his mind after Wolsey's departure, and the cardinal
had hardly closed his eyes before the Earl of Wiltshire (Anne Boleyn's
father) was announced to him with a message from the king. "It is his
majesty's pleasure," said Wiltshire, "that you represent to the queen
the shame that will accrue to her from a judicial condemnation, and
persuade her to confide in his wisdom." Wolsey, commissioned to
execute a task he knew to be impossible, exclaimed: "Why do you put
such fancies in the king's head?" and then he spoke so reproachfully
that Wiltshire, with tears in his eyes, fell on his knees beside the
cardinal's bed.[997] Boleyn, desirous of seeing his daughter queen of
England, feared perhaps that he had taken a wrong course. "It is
well," said the cardinal, recollecting that the message came from
Henry VIII, "I am ready to do every thing to please his majesty." He
rose, went to Bath-Place to fetch Campeggio, and together they waited
on the queen.
[997] Cavendish, p. 226.
[Sidenote: THE LEGATES VISIT THE QUEEN.]
The two legates found Catherine quietly at work with her maids of
honour. Wolsey addressed the queen in Latin: "Nay, my lord," she said,
"speak to me in English; I wish all the world could hear you."--"We
desire, madam, to communicate to _you alone_ our counsel and
opinion."--"My lord," said the queen, "you are come to speak of things
beyond my capacity;" and then, with noble simplicity, showing a skein
of red silk hanging about her neck, she continued: "These are my
occupations, and all that I am capable of. I am a poor woman, without
friends in this foreign country, and lacking wit to answer persons of
wisdom as ye be; and yet, my lords, to please you, let us go to my
withdrawing room."
At these words the queen rose, and Wolsey gave her his hand. Catherine
earnestly maintained her rights as a woman and a queen. "We who were
in the outer chamber," says Cavendish, "from time to time could hear
the queen speaking very loud, but could not understand what she said."
Catherine, instead of justifying herself, boldly accused her judge. "I
know, Sir Cardinal," she said with noble candour, "I know who has
given the king the advice he is following: it is you. I have not
ministered to your pride--I have blamed your conduct--I have
complained of your tyranny, and my nephew the emperor has not made you
pope.... Hence all my misfortunes. To revenge yourself you have
kindled a war in Europe, and have stirred up against me this most
wicked matter. God will be my judge.... and yours!" Wolsey would have
replied, but Catherine haughtily refused to hear him, and while
treating Campeggio with great civility, declared that she would not
acknowledge either of them as her judge. The cardinals withdrew,
Wolsey full of vexation, and Campeggio beaming with joy, for the
business was getting more complicated. Every hope of accommodation was
lost: nothing remained now but to proceed judicially.
CHAPTER IX.
The Trial resumed--Catherine Summoned--Twelve Articles--The
Witnesses' Evidence--Arthur and Catherine really
married--Campeggio opposes the Argument of Divine
Right--Other Arguments--The legates required to deliver
judgment--Their Tergiversations--Change in men's
minds--Final Session--General Expectation--Adjournment
during Harvest--Campeggio Excuses this impertinence--The
King's indignation--Suffolk's violence--Wolsey's Reply--He
is ruined--General Accusations--The Cardinal turns to an
Episcopal Life.
[Sidenote: THE TRIAL RESUMED.]
The trial was resumed. The bishop of Bath and Wells waited upon the
queen at Greenwich, and peremptorily summoned her to appear in the
parliament-chamber.[998] On the day appointed Catherine limited
herself to sending an appeal to the pope. She was declared
contumacious, and the legates proceeded with the cause.
[998] In quadam superiori camera: _the queen'a dining-chamber_,
nuncupata, 26 die mensis junii Rymer. Acta. p. 119.
Twelve articles were prepared, which were to serve for the examination
of the witnesses, and the summary of which was, that the marriage of
Henry with Catherine, being forbidden both by the law of God and of
the church, was null and void.[999]
[999] Divino, ecclesiastico jure....nullo omnino et invalidum.
Herbert, p. 163.
The hearing of the witnesses began, and Dr. Taylor, archdeacon of
Buckingham, conducted the examination. Their evidence, which would now
be taken only with closed doors, may be found in Lord Herbert of
Cherbury's History of Henry VIII. The duke of Norfolk, high-treasurer
of England, the duke of Suffolk, Maurice St. John, gentleman-carver to
Prince Arthur, the Viscount Fitzwalter and Anthony Willoughby, his
cup-bearers, testified to their being present on the morrow of the
wedding at the breakfast of the prince, then in sound health, and
reported the conversation that took place.[1000] The old duchess of
Norfolk, the earl of Shrewsbury, and the marquis of Dorset, confirmed
these declarations, which proved that Arthur and Catherine were really
married. It was also called to mind that, at the time of Arthur's
death, Henry was not permitted to take the title of prince of Wales,
because Catherine hoped to give an heir to the crown of England.[1001]
[1000] Quod Arthurus mane postridie potum flagitaret, idquo ut
alebant, quoniam diceret se ilia nocte in calida Hispaniarum regione
peregrinatum fuisse, Sanders, p. 43.
[1001] Foxe, v, p. 51.
[Sidenote: SECONDARY ARGUMENTS.]
"If Arthur and Catherine were really married," said the king's
counsellors after these extraordinary depositions, "the marriage of
this princess with Henry, Arthur's brother, was forbidden by the
divine law, by an express command of God contained in Leviticus, and
no dispensation could permit what God had forbidden." Campeggio would
never concede this argument, which limited the right of the popes; it
was necessary therefore to abandon the _divine right_ (which was in
reality to lose the cause), and to seek in the bull of Julius II and
in his famous brief for flaws that would invalidate them both;[1002]
and this the king's counsel did, although they did not conceal the
weakness of their position. "The motive alleged in the dispensation,"
they said, "is the necessity of preserving a cordial relation between
Spain and England; now, there was nothing that threatened their
harmony. Moreover, it is said in this document that the pope grants it
at the prayer of Henry, prince of Wales. Now as this prince was only
thirteen years old, he was not of age to make such a request. As for
the brief, it is found neither in England nor in Rome; we cannot
therefore admit its authenticity." It was not difficult for
Catherine's friends to invalidate these objections. "Besides," they
added, "a union that has lasted twenty years, sufficiently establishes
its own lawfulness. And will you declare the Princess Mary
illegitimate, to the great injury of this realm?"
[1002] Herbert gives them at length, pp. 264-267.
The king's advocates then changed their course. Was not the Roman
legate provided with a decretal pronouncing the divorce, in case it
should be proved that Arthur's marriage had been really consummated?
Now, this fact had been proved by the depositions. "This is the moment
for delivering judgment," said Henry and his counsellors to Campeggio.
"Publish the pope's decretal." But the pope feared the sword of
Charles V, then hanging over his head; and accordingly, whenever the
king advanced one step, the Romish prelate took several in an opposite
direction. "I will deliver judgment in _five_ days," said he; and when
the five days were expired, he bound himself to deliver it in six.
"Restore peace to my troubled conscience," exclaimed Henry. The legate
replied in courtly phrase; he had gained a few days' delay, and that
was all he desired.
[Sidenote: DIFFERENT OPINIONS.]
Such conduct on the part of the Roman legate produced an unfavourable
effect in England, and a change took place in the public mind. The
first movement had been for Catherine; the second was for Henry.
Clement's endless delays and Campeggio's stratagems exasperated the
nation. The king's argument was simple and popular: "The pope cannot
dispense with the laws of God;" while the queen, by appealing to the
authority of the Roman pontiff, displeased both high and low. "No
precedent," said the lawyers, "can justify the king's marriage with
his brother's widow."
There were, however, some evangelical Christians who thought Henry was
"troubled" more by his passions than by his conscience; and they asked
how it happened that a prince, who represented himself to be so
disturbed by the possible transgression of a law of doubtful
interpretation, could desire, after twenty years, to violate the
indisputable law which forbade the divorce?... On the 21st of July,
the day fixed _ad concludendum_, the cause was adjourned until the
Friday following, and no one doubted that the matter would then be
terminated.
All prepared for this important day. The king ordered the dukes of
Norfolk and Suffolk to be present at the sitting of the court; and
being himself impatient to hear the so much coveted judgment, he stole
into a gallery of the parliament-chamber facing the judges.
[Sidenote: THE LEGATE'S REASONS.]
The legates of the holy see having taken their seats, the
attorney-general signified to them, "that every thing necessary for
the information of their conscience having been judicially laid before
them, that day had been fixed for the conclusion of the trial." There
was a pause; everyone feeling the importance of this judgment, waited
for it with impatience. "Either the papacy pronounces my divorce from
Catherine," the king had said, "or I shall divorce myself from the
papacy." That was the way Henry put the question. All eyes, and
particularly the king's, were turned on the judges; Campeggio could
not retreat; he must now say _yes_ or _no_. For some time he was
silent. He knew for certain that the queen's appeal had been admitted
by Clement VII and that the latter had concluded an alliance with the
emperor. It was no longer in his power to grant the king's request.
Clearly foreseeing that a _no_ would perhaps forfeit the power of Rome
in England, while a _yes_ might put an end to the plans of religious
emancipation which alarmed him so much, he could not make up his mind
to say either _yes_ or _no_.
At last the nuncio rose slowly from his chair, and all the assembly
listened with emotion to the oracular decision which for so many years
the powerful king of England had sought from the Roman pontiff. "The
general vacation of the harvest and vintage," he said, "being observed
every year by the court of Rome, dating from to-morrow the 24th of
July, the beginning of the dog-days, we adjourn, to some future
period, the conclusion of these pleadings."[1003]
[1003] Feriæ generales messium et vindemiarum. (Herbert, p. 278;
Cavendish, p. 229) The general vacation of harvest and vintage.
The auditors were thunderstruck. "What! because the _malaria_ renders
the air of Rome dangerous at the end of July; and compels the Romans
to close their courts, must a trial be broken off on the banks of the
Thames, when its conclusion is looked for so impatiently?" The people
hoped for a judicial sentence, and they were answered with a jest; it
was thus Rome made sport of Christendom. Campeggio, to disarm Henry's
wrath, gave utterance to some noble sentiments; but his whole line of
conduct raises legitimate doubts as to his sincerity. "The queen," he
said, "denies the competency of the court; I must therefore make my
report to the pope, who is the source of life and honour, and wait his
sovereign orders. I have not come so far to please any man, be he king
or subject. I am an old man, feeble and sickly, and fear none but the
Supreme Judge, before whom I must soon appear. I therefore adjourn
this court until the 1st of October."
It was evident that this adjournment was only a formality intended to
signify the definitive rejection of Henry's demand. The same custom
prevails in the British legislature.
The king, who from his place of concealment had heard Campeggio's
speech, could scarcely control his indignation. He wanted a regular
judgment; he clung to forms; he desired that his cause should pass
successfully through all the windings of ecclesiastical procedure, and
yet here it is wrecked upon the vacations of the Romish court. Henry
was silent, however, either from prudence, or because surprise
deprived him of the power of speech, and he hastily left the gallery.
[Sidenote: SUFFOLK'S VIOLENCE.]
Norfolk, Suffolk, and the other courtiers, did not follow him. The
king and his ministers, the peers and the people, and even the clergy,
were almost unanimous, and yet the pope pronounced his _veto_. He
humbled the Defender of the Faith to flatter the author of the sack of
Rome. This was too much. The impetuous Suffolk started from his seat,
struck his hand violently on the table in front of him, cast a
threatening look upon the judges and exclaimed: "By the mass, the old
saying is confirmed to-day, that no cardinal has ever brought good to
England."[1004]--"Sir, of all men in this realm," replied Wolsey, "you
have the least cause to disparage cardinals, for if I, poor cardinal,
had not been, you would not have had a head on your shoulders."[1005]
It would seem that Wolsey pacified Henry, at the time of the duke's
marriage with the Princess Mary. "I cannot pronounce sentence,"
continued Wolsey, "without knowing the good pleasure of his holiness."
The two dukes and the other noblemen left the hall in anger, and
hastened to the palace.[1006] The legates, remaining with their
officers, looked at each other for a few moments. At last Campeggio,
who alone had remained calm during this scene of violence, arose, and
the audience dispersed.
[1004] Mensam quæ proponebatur magno ictu concutiens: Per sacram,
inquit, missam, nemo unquam legatorum aut cardinalium quicquam boni ad
Angliam apportavit. Sanders, p. 49.
[1005] Cavendish, p. 233.
[1006] Duces ex judicio discedentes, ut ipsi omnibus iracundiæ flammis
urebantur. Sanders, p. 49.
Henry did not allow himself to be crushed by this blow. Rome, by her
strange proceedings, aroused in him that suspicious and despotic
spirit, of which he gave such tragic proofs in after-years. The papacy
was making sport of him. Clement and Wolsey tossed his divorce from
one to the other like a ball which, now at Rome and now at London,
seemed fated to remain perpetually in the air. The king thought he had
been long enough the plaything of his holiness and of the crafty
cardinal; his patience was exhausted, and he resolved to show his
adversaries that Henry VIII was more than a match for these bishops.
We shall find him seizing this favourable opportunity, and giving an
unexpected solution to the matter.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY ACCUSED BY ALL.]
Wolsey sorrowfully hung his head; by taking part with the nuncio and
the pope, he had signed the warrant of his own destruction. So long as
Henry had a single ray of hope, he thought proper still to dissemble
with Clement VII; but he might vent all his anger on Wolsey. From the
period of the _Roman Vacations_ the cardinal was ruined in his
master's mind. Wolsey's enemies seeing his favour decline, hastened to
attack him. Suffolk and Norfolk in particular, impatient to get rid of
an insolent priest who had so long chafed their pride, told Henry that
Wolsey had been continually playing false; they went over all his
negotiations month by month and day by day, and drew the most
overwhelming conclusions from them. Sir William Kingston and Lord
Manners laid before the king one of the cardinal's letters which Sir
Francis Bryan had obtained from the papal archives. In it the
cardinal desired Clement to spin out the divorce question, and finally
to oppose it, seeing (he added) that if Henry was separated from
Catherine, a friend to the reformers would become queen of
England.[1007] This letter clearly expressed Wolsey's inmost thoughts:
Rome at any price ... and perish England and Henry rather than the
popedom! We can imagine the king's anger.
[1007] Edm. Campion _De divortio_. Herbert, p. 289.
Anne Boleyn's friends were not working alone. There was not a person
at court whom Wolsey's haughtiness and tyranny had not offended; no
one in the king's council in whom his continual intrigues had not
raised serious suspicions. He had (they said) betrayed in France the
cause of England; kept up in time of peace and war secret intelligence
with Madam, mother of Francis I; received great presents from
her;[1008] oppressed the nation, and trodden under foot the laws of
the kingdom. The people called him _Frenchman_ and _traitor_, and all
England seemed to vie in throwing burning brands at the superb edifice
which the pride of this prelate had so laboriously erected.[1009]
[1008] Du Bellay's Letters, Le Grand, Preuves, p. 374.
[1009] Novis etiam furoris et insaniæ facibus incenderunt. (Sanders,
p. 49.) They burned with new brands of rage and madness.
Wolsey was too clearsighted not to discern the signs of his
approaching fall. "Both the rising and the setting sun (for thus an
historian calls Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon) frowned upon
him,"[1010] and the sky, growing darker around him, gave token of the
storm that was to overwhelm him. If the _cause_ failed, Wolsey
incurred the vengeance of the king; if it succeeded, he would be
delivered up to the vengeance of the Boleyns, without speaking of
Catherine's, the emperor's and the pope's. Happy Campeggio! thought
the cardinal, he has nothing to fear. If Henry's favour is withdrawn
from him, Charles and Clement will make him compensation. But Wolsey
lost every thing when he lost the king's good graces. Detested by his
fellow-citizens, despised and hated by all Europe, he saw to whatever
side he turned nothing but the just reward of his avarice and
falseness. He strove in vain, as on other occasions, to lean on the
ambassador of France; Du Bellay was solicited on the other side. "I am
exposed here to such a heavy and continual fire that I am half dead,"
exclaimed the bishop of Bayonne;[1011] and the cardinal met with an
unusual reserve in his former confidant.
[1010] Fuller, p. 176.
[1011] Du Bellay to Montmorency, 15th June. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 324.
Yet the crisis approached. Like a skilful but affrighted pilot,
Wolsey cast his eyes around him to discover a port in which he could
take refuge. He could find none but his see of York. He therefore
began once more to complain of the fatigues of power, of the weariness
of the diplomatic career, and to extol the sweetness of an episcopal
life. On a sudden he felt a great interest about the flock of whom he
had never thought before. Those around him shook their heads, well
knowing that such a retreat would be to Wolsey the bitterest of
disgraces. One single idea supported him; if he fell, it would be
because he had clung more to the pope than to the king: he would be
the martyr of his faith.--What a faith, what a martyr!
CHAPTER X.
Anne Boleyn at Hever--She Reads the Obedience of a Christian
Man--is recalled to Court--Miss Gainsford and George
Zouch--Tyndale's Book converts Zouch--Zouch in the
Chapel-Royal--The Book seized--Anne applies to Henry--The
King reads the Book--Pretended Influence of the Book on
Henry--The Court at Woodstock--The Park and its
Goblins--Henry's Esteem for Anne.
[Sidenote: ANNE BOLEYN AT HEVER.]
While these things were taking place Anne was living at Hever Castle
in retirement and sadness. Scruples from time to time still alarmed
her conscience. It is true, the king represented to her unceasingly
that his salvation and the safety of his people demanded the
dissolution of a union condemned by the divine law, and that what he
solicited several popes had granted. Had not Alexander VI annulled,
after ten years, the marriage of Ladislaus and Beatrice of Naples? Had
not Louis XII, the father of his people, been divorced from Joan of
France? Nothing was more common, he said, than to see the divorce of a
prince authorized by a pope; the security of the state must be
provided for before every thing else. Carried away by these arguments
and dazzled by the splendour of a throne, Anne Boleyn consented to
usurp at Henry's side the rank belonging to another. Yet, if she was
imprudent and ambitious, she was feeling and generous, and the
misfortunes of a queen whom she respected soon made her reject with
terror the idea of taking her place. The fertile pastures of Kent and
the gothic halls of Hever Castle were by turns the witnesses of the
mental conflicts this young lady experienced. The fear she entertained
of seeing the queen again, and the idea that the two cardinals, her
enemies, were plotting her ruin, made her adopt the resolution of not
returning to court, and she shut herself up in her solitary chamber.
[Sidenote: ANNE RECALLED TO COURT.]
Anne had neither the deep piety of a Bilney, nor the somewhat vague
and mystic spirituality observable in Margaret of Valois; it was not
feeling which prevailed in her religion, it was knowledge, and a
horror of superstition and pharisaism. Her mind required light and
activity, and at that time she sought in reading the consolations so
necessary to her position. One day she opened one of the books
prohibited in England, which a friend of the Reformation had given
her: _The Obedience of a Christian Man_. Its author was William
Tyndale, that invisible man whom Wolsey's agents were hunting for in
Brabant and Germany, and this was a recommendation to Anne. "If thou
believe the promises," she read, "then God's truth justifieth thee;
that is, forgiveth thy sins and sealeth thee with his Holy Spirit. If
thou have true faith, so seest thou the exceeding and infinite love
and mercy which God hath shown thee freely in Christ: then must thou
needs love again: and love cannot but compel thee to work. If when
tyrants oppose thee thou have power to confess, then art thou sure
that thou art safe.[1012] If thou be fallen from the way of truth,
come thereto again and thou art safe. Yea, Christ shall save thee, and
the angels of heaven shall rejoice at thy coming."[1013] These words
did not change Anne's heart, but she marked with her nail, as was her
custom,[1014] other passages which struck her more, and which she
desired to point out to the king if, as she hoped, she was ever to
meet him again. She believed that the truth was there, and took a
lively interest in those whom Wolsey, Henry, and the pope were at that
time persecuting.
[1012] Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. 295.
[1013] Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p. 300.
[1014] Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 438.
Anne was soon dragged from these pious lessons, and launched into the
midst of a world full of dangers. Henry, convinced that he had nothing
to expect henceforward from Campeggio, neglected those proprieties
which he had hitherto observed, and immediately after the adjournment
ordered Anne Boleyn to return to court; he restored her to the place
she had formerly occupied, and even surrounded her with increased
splendour. Every one saw that Anne, in the king's mind, was queen of
England; and a powerful party was formed around her, which, proposed
to accomplish the definitive ruin of the cardinal.
[Sidenote: MISS GAINSFORD AND GEORGE ZOUCH.]
After her return to court, Anne read much less frequently _The
Obedience of a Christian Man_ and the _Testament of Jesus Christ_.
Henry's homage, her friends' intrigues, and the whirl of festivities,
bade fair to stifle the thoughts which solitude had aroused in her
heart. One day having left Tyndale's book in a window, Miss Gainsford,
a fair young gentlewoman[1015] attached to her person, took it up and
read it. A gentleman of handsome mien, cheerful temper, and extreme
mildness, named George Zouch, also belonging to Anne's household, and
betrothed to Miss Gainsford, profiting by the liberty his position
gave him, indulged sometimes in "love tricks."[1016] On one occasion
when George desired to have a little talk with her, he was annoyed to
find her absorbed by a book of whose contents he knew nothing; and
taking advantage of a moment when the young lady had turned away her
head, he laughingly snatched it from her. Miss Gainsford ran after
Zouch to recover her book; but just at that moment she heard her
mistress calling her, and she left George, threatening him with her
finger.
[1015] Strype, i. p. 171.
[1016] Ibid. p. 172.
As she did not return immediately, George withdrew to his room, and
opened the volume; it was the _Obedience of a Christian Man_. He
glanced over a few lines, then a few pages, and at last read the book
through more than once. He seemed to hear the voice of God. "I feel
the Spirit of God," he said, "speaking in my heart as he has spoken in
the heart of him who wrote the book."[1017] The words which had only
made a temporary impression on the preoccupied mind of Anne Boleyn,
penetrated to the heart of her equerry and converted him. Miss
Gainsford, fearing that Anne would ask for her book, entreated George
to restore it to her; but he positively refused, and even the young
lady's tears failed to make him give up a volume in which he had found
the life of his soul. Becoming more serious, he no longer jested as
before; and when Miss Gainsford peremptorily demanded the book, he
was, says the chronicler, "ready to weep himself."
[1017] Ibid.
Zouch, finding in this volume an edification which empty forms and
ceremonies could not give, used to carry it with him to the king's
chapel. Dr. Sampson, the dean, generally officiated; and while the
choir chanted the service, George would be absorbed in his book, where
he read: "If when thou seest the celebration of the sacrament of the
Lord's Supper, thou believest in this promise of Christ: _This is my
body that is broken for you_, and if thou have this promise fast in
thine heart, thou art saved and justified thereby; thou eatest his
body and drinkest his blood. If not, so helpeth it thee not, though
thou hearest a thousand masses in a day: no more than it should help
thee in a dead thirst to behold a bush at a tavern door, if thou
knewest not thereby that there was wine within to be sold."[1018] The
young man dwelt upon these words: by faith he ate the body and drank
the blood of the Son of God. This was what was passing in the palaces
of Henry VIII; there were saints in the household of Cæsar.
[1018] Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. p. 286.
[Sidenote: ANNE BOLEYN BEFORE THE KING.]
Wolsey, desirous of removing from the court everything that might
favour the Reformation, had recommended extreme vigilance to Dr.
Sampson so as to prevent the circulation of the innovating books.
Accordingly, one day when George was in the chapel absorbed in his
book, the dean, who, even while officiating, had not lost sight of the
young man, called him to him after the service, and rudely taking the
book from his hands, demanded: "What is your name, and in whose
service are you?" Zouch having replied, the dean withdrew with a very
angry look, and carried his prey to the cardinal.
When Miss Gainsford heard of this mishap, her grief was extreme; she
trembled at the thought that the _Obedience of a Christian Man_ was in
Wolsey's hands. Not long after this, Anne having asked for her book,
the young lady fell on her knees, confessed all, and begged to be
forgiven.[1019] Anne uttered not a word of reproach; her quick mind
saw immediately the advantage she might derive from this affair.
"Well," said she, "it shall be the dearest book to them that ever the
dean or cardinal took away."
[1019] She on her knees told it all. Strype, vol. i. p. 172.
"The noble lady," as the chronicler styles her, immediately demanded
an interview of the king, and on reaching his presence she fell at his
feet,[1020] and begged his assistance. "What is the matter, Anne,"
said the astonished monarch. She told him what had happened, and Henry
promised that the book should not remain in Wolsey's hands.
[1020] Upon her knees she desireth the king's help for her book. Ibid.
[Sidenote: THE KING READS TYNDALE'S BOOK.]
Anne had scarcely quitted the royal apartments when the cardinal
arrived with the famous volume, with the intention of complaining to
Henry of certain passages which he knew could not fail to irritate
him, and to take advantage of it even to attack Anne, if the king
should be offended.[1021] Henry's icy reception closed his mouth; the
king confined himself to taking the book, and bowing out the cardinal.
This was precisely what Anne had hoped for. She begged the king to
read the book, which he promised to do.
[1021] Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 411.
And Henry accordingly shut himself up in his closet, and read the
_Obedience of a Christian Man_. There were few works better calculated
to enlighten him, and none, after the Bible, that has had more
influence upon the Reformation in England. Tyndale treated of
_obedience_, "the essential principle," as he terms it, "of every
political or religious community." He declaimed against the unlawful
power of the popes, who usurped the lawful authority of Christ and of
his Word. He professed political-doctrines too favourable doubtless to
absolute power, but calculated to show that the reformers were not, as
had been asserted, instigators of rebellion. Henry read as follows:--
"The king is in the room of God in this world. He that resisteth the
king, resisteth God; he that judgeth the king, judgeth God. He is the
minister of God to defend thee from a thousand inconveniences; though
he be the greatest tyrant in the world, yet is he unto thee a great
benefit of God; for it is better to pay the tenth than to lose all,
and to suffer wrong of one man than of every man."[1022]
[1022] Tyndale's Works, edited by Russel, vol. i. p. 212
These are indeed strange doctrines for _rebels_ to hold, thought the
king; and he continued:--
"Let kings, if they had lever [rather] be Christians in deed than so
to be called, give themselves altogether to the wealth [well-being] of
their realms after the ensample of Jesus Christ; remembering that the
people are God's, and not theirs; yea, are Christ's inheritance,
bought with his blood. The most despised person in his realm (if he is
a Christian) is equal with him in the kingdom of God and of Christ.
Let the king put off all pride, and become a brother to the poorest of
his subjects."[1023]
[1023] Ibid. p. 233.
[Sidenote: TYNDALE'S DOCTRINE ON KINGS.]
It is probable that these words were less satisfactory to the king. He
kept on reading:--
"Emperors and kings are nothing now-a-days, but even hangmen unto the
pope and bishops, to kill whomsoever they condemn, as Pilate was unto
the scribes and pharisees and high bishops to hang Christ."[1024]
[1024] Ibid. p. 274.
This seemed to Henry rather strong language.
"The pope hath received no other authority of Christ than to preach
God's word. Now, this word should rule only, and not bishops' decrees
or the pope's pleasure. _In præsentia majoris cessat potestas
minoris_, in the presence of the greater, the less hath no
power.[1025] The pope, against all the doctrine of Christ, which
saith, _My kingdom is not of this world_, hath usurped the right of
the emperor. Kings must make account of their doings only to
God.[1026] No person may be exempt from this ordinance of God; neither
can the profession of monks and friars, or anything that the popes or
bishops can lay for themselves, except them from the sword of the
emperor or king, if they break the laws. For it is written, (Rom.
xiii.) Let every soul submit himself unto the authority of the higher
powers."[1027]
[1025] Tyndale's Works, p. 243.
[1026] Ibid. p. 220.
[1027] Ibid. p. 213.
"What excellent reading!" exclaimed Henry, when he had finished; "this
is truly a book for all kings to read, and for me particularly."[1028]
[1028] Strype, i. p. 172.
Captivated by Tyndale's work, the king began to converse with Anne
about the church and the pope; and she who had seen Margaret of Valois
unassumingly endeavour to instruct Francis I strove in like manner to
enlighten Henry VIII. She did not possess the influence over him she
desired; this unhappy prince was, to the very end of his life, opposed
to the evangelical reformation; protestants and catholics have been
equally mistaken when they have regarded him as being favourable to
it. "In a short time," says the annalist quoted by Strype at the end
of his narrative, "the king, by the help of this virtuous lady, had
his eyes opened to the truth. He learned to seek after that truth, to
advance God's religion and glory, to detest the pope's doctrine, his
lies, his pomp, and pride, and to deliver his subjects from the
Egyptian darkness and Babylonian bonds that the pope had brought him
and his subjects under. Despising the rebellions of his subjects and
the rage of so many mighty potentates abroad, he set forward a
religious reformation, which, beginning with the triple-crowned head,
came down to all the members of the hierarchy." History has rarely
delivered a more erroneous judgment. Henry's eyes were never opened to
the truth, and it was not he who made the Reformation. It was
accomplished first of all by Scripture, and then by the ministry of
simple and faithful men baptized of the Holy Ghost.
[Sidenote: THE COURT AT WOODSTOCK.]
Yet Tyndale's book and the conduct of the legates had given rise in
the king's mind to new thoughts which he sought time to mature. He
desired also to conceal his anger from Wolsey and Campeggio, and
dissipate his _spleen_, says the historian Collyer; he therefore gave
orders to remove the court to the palace of Woodstock. The magnificent
park attached to this royal residence, in which was the celebrated
bower constructed (it is said) by Henry II to conceal the fair
Rosamond, offered all the charms of the promenade, the chase, and
solitude.[1029] Hence he could easily repair to Langly, Grafton, and
other country seats. It was not long before the entertainments,
horse-races, and other rural sports began. The world with its
pleasures and its grandeur, were at the bottom the idols of Anne
Boleyn's heart; but yet she felt a certain attraction for the new
doctrine, which was confounded in her mind with the great cause of all
knowledge, perhaps even with her own. More enlightened than the
generality of women, she was distinguished by the superiority of her
understanding not only over her own sex, but even over many of the
gentlemen of the court. While Catherine, a member of the third order
of St. Francis, indulged in trifling practices, the more intelligent,
if not more pious Anne, cared but little for amulets which the friars
had blessed, for apparitions, or visions of angels. Woodstock
furnished her with an opportunity of curing Henry VIII of the
superstitious ideas natural to him. There was a place in the forest
said to be haunted by evil spirits; not a priest or a courtier dared
approach it. A tradition ran that if a king ventured to cross the
boundary, he would fall dead. Anne resolved to take Henry there.
Accordingly, one morning she led the way in the direction of the place
where these mysterious powers manifested their presence (as it was
said) by strange apparitions; they entered the wood; they arrived at
the so much dreaded spot; all hesitated; but Anne's calmness reassured
her companions; they advanced; they found ... nothing but trees and
turf, and, laughing at their former terrors, they explored every
corner of this mysterious resort of the evil spirits. Anne returned to
the palace, congratulating herself on the triumph Henry had gained
over his imaginary fears.[1030] This prince, who could as yet bear
with superiority in others, was struck with Anne Boleyn's.
[1029] The letters from the king's secretaries Gardiner and Tuke to
Wolsey, dated Woodstock, run from 4th August to 8th September. State
Papers, i. p. 335-347.
[1030] Foxe, v. p. 136; Miss Benger's life of Anne Boleyn, p. 299.
Never too gay nor yet too melancholy,
A heavenly mind is hers, like angels holy.
None purer ever soared above the sky.
O mighty Marvel, thus may every eye
See of what monster strange the humble serf am I;
Monster indeed, for in her frame divine
A woman's form, man's heart, and angel's head combine.[1031]
[1031]
Jamais trop gay, ne trop melancolique,
Elle a au chef un esprit angelique,
Le plus subtil qui onc au ciel vola.
O grand' merveille! on peut voir par cela
Que je suis serf d'un monstre fort etrange:
Monstre je dy, car pour tout vray elle a
Corps feminin, cœur d'homme et tete d'ange
These verses of Clement Marot, written in honour of Margaret of
Valois, faithfully express what Henry then felt for Anne, who had been
with Marot in the household of that princess. Henry's love may perhaps
have deceived him, as to Anne's excellencies.
CHAPTER XI.
Embarrassment of the pope--The Triumphs of Charles decide
him--He traverses the Cause to Rome--Wolsey's
Dejection--Henry's Wrath--His fears--Wolsey obtains
comfort--Arrival of the two Legates at Grafton--Wolsey's
reception by Henry--Wolsey and Norfolk at Dinner--Henry with
Anne--Conference between the King and the Cardinal--Wolsey's
Joy and Grief--The Supper at Euston--Campeggio's Farewell
Audience--Wolsey's Disgrace--Campeggio at Dover--He is
accused by the courtiers--Leaves England--Wolsey foresees
his own Fall and that of the Papacy.
[Sidenote: EMBARRASSMENT OF THE POPE.]
While the court was thus taking its pleasure at Woodstock, Wolsey
remained in London, a prey to the acutest anguish. "This avocation to
Rome," wrote he to Gregory De Casale, "will not only completely
alienate the king and his realm from the apostolic see, but will ruin
me utterly."[1032] This message had hardly reached the pope, before
the imperial ambassadors handed to him the queen's protest, and added
in a very significant tone: "If your holiness does not call this cause
before you, the emperor, who is determined to bring it to an end, will
have recourse to _other arguments_." The same perplexity always
agitated Clement: Which of the two must be sacrificed, Henry or
Charles? Anthony de Leyva, who commanded the imperial forces, having
routed the French army, the pope no longer doubted that Charles was
the elect of Heaven. It was not Europe alone which acknowledged this
prince's authority; a new world had just laid its power and its gold
at his feet. The formidable priest-king of the Aztecs had been unable
to withstand Cortez; could the priest-king of Rome withstand Charles
V? Cortez had returned from Mexico, bringing with him Mexican chiefs
in all their barbarous splendour, with thousands of _pesos_, with gold
and silver and emeralds of extraordinary size, with magnificent
tissues and birds of brilliant plumage. He had accompanied Charles,
who was then going to Italy, to the place of embarkation, and had sent
to Clement VII costly gifts of the precious metals, valuable jewels,
and a troop of Mexican dancers, buffoons, and jugglers, who charmed
the pope and the cardinal above all things.[1033]
[1032] Non solum regium animum et totum hoc regnum a sedis apostolicæ
devotione penitus abalienabit, ac me omnino perdet et funditus
destruet. State Papers, vii, p. 189.
[1033] Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, book vii, chap. iv.
[Sidenote: PEACE BETWEEN CLEMENT AND CHARLES.]
Clement, even while refusing Henry's prayer, had not as yet granted
the emperor's. He thought he could now resist no longer the star of a
monarch victorious over two worlds, and hastened to enter into
negotiations with him. Sudden terrors still assailed him from time to
time: My refusal (he said to himself) may perhaps cause me to lose
England. But Charles, holding him in his powerful grasp, compelled him
to submit. Henry's antecedents were rather encouraging to the pontiff.
How could he imagine that a prince, who alone of all the monarchs of
Europe had once contended against the great reformer, would now
separate from the popedom? On the 6th of July Clement declared to the
English envoys that he _avoked to Rome_ the cause between Henry VIII
and Catherine of Aragon. In other words, this was refusing the
divorce. "There are twenty three points in this case," said the
courtiers, "and the debate on the first has lasted a year; before the
end of the trial, the king will be not only past marrying but past
living."[1034]
[1034] Fuller, p. 178.
When he learned that the fatal blow had been struck, Bennett in a tone
of sadness exclaimed: "Alas! most holy father, by this act the Church
in England will be utterly destroyed; the king declared it to me with
tears in his eyes."[1035]--"Why is it my fortune to live in such evil
days?" replied the pope, who, in his turn, began to weep;[1036] "but I
am encircled by the emperor's forces, and if I were to please the
king, I should draw a fearful ruin upon myself and upon the church....
God will be my judge."
[1035] Burnet, Records, ii, p. 37.
[1036] Ibid.
[Sidenote: HENRY'S ANGER.]
On the 15th of July Da Casale sent the fatal news to the English
minister. The king was cited before the pope, and in case of refusal
condemned in a fine of 10,000 ducats. On the 18th of July peace was
proclaimed at Rome between the pontiff and the emperor, and on the
next day (these dates are important) Clement, wishing still to make
one more attempt to ward off the blow with which the papacy was
threatened, wrote to Cardinal Wolsey: "My dear son, how can I describe
to you my affliction? Show in this matter the prudence which so
distinguishes you, and preserve the king in those kindly feelings
which he has ever manifested towards me."[1037] A useless attempt! Far
from saving the papacy, Wolsey was to be wrecked along with it.
[1037] Ut dictum regem in solita erga nos benevolentia retinere velis.
Burnet, Records, ii. p. xxxviii.
Wolsey was thunderstruck. At the very time he was assuring Henry of
the attachment of Clement and Francis, both were deserting him. The
"politic handling" failed, which the cardinal had thought so skilful,
and which had been so torturous. Henry now had none but enemies on the
continent of Europe, and the Reformation was daily spreading over his
kingdom. Wolsey's anguish cannot be described. His power, his pomp,
his palaces were all threatened; who could tell whether he would even
preserve his liberty and his life.--A just reward for so much
duplicity.
[Sidenote: HENRY CONCEALS HIS AFFRONT.]
But the king's wrath was to be greater than even the minister's alarm.
His terrified servants wondered how they should announce the pontiff's
decision. Gardiner, who, after his return from Rome, had been named
secretary of state, went down to Langley on the 3rd of August to
communicate it to him. What news for the proud Tudor! The decision on
the divorce was forbidden in England; the cause avoked to Rome, there
to be buried and unjustly lost; Francis I treating with the emperor;
Charles and Clement on the point of exchanging at Bologna the most
striking signs of their unchangeable alliance; the services rendered
by the king to the popedom repaid with the blackest ingratitude; his
hope of giving an heir to the crown disgracefully frustrated; and
last, but not least, Henry VIII, the proudest monarch of Christendom,
summoned to Rome to appear before an ecclesiastical tribunal ... it
was too much for Henry. His wrath, a moment restrained, burst forth
like a clap of thunder,[1038] and all trembled around him. "Do they
presume," he exclaimed, "to try my cause elsewhere than in my own
dominions? I, the king of England, summoned before an Italian
tribunal!... Yes, ... I will go to Rome, but it shall be with such a
mighty army that the pope, and his priests, and all Italy shall be
struck with terror.[1039]--I forbid the letters of citation to be
executed," he continued; "I forbid the commission to consider its
functions at an end." Henry would have desired to tear off Campeggio's
purple robes, and throw this prince of the Roman church into prison,
in order to frighten Clement; but the very magnitude of the insult
compelled him to restrain himself. He feared above all things to
appear humbled in the eyes of England, and he hoped, by showing
moderation, to hide the affront he had received. "Let everything be
done," he told Gardiner, "to conceal from my subjects these letters of
citation, which are so hurtful to my glory. Write to Wolsey that I
have the greatest confidence in his dexterity, and that he ought, by
good handling, to win over Campeggio[1040] and the queen's
counsellors, and, above all, prevail upon them at any price not to
serve these citatory letters on me." But Henry had hardly given his
instructions when the insult of which he had been the object recurred
to his imagination; the thought of Clement haunted him night and day,
and he swore to exact a striking vengeance from the pontiff. Rome
desires to have no more to do with England.... England in her turn
will cast off Rome. Henry will sacrifice Wolsey, Clement, and the
church; nothing shall stop his fury. The crafty pontiff has concealed
his game, the king shall beat him openly; and from age to age the
popedom shall shed tears over the imprudent folly of a medici.
[1038] He became much incensed. Herbert, p. 187. Supra quam dici
potest excanduit Sanders, p. 50.
[1039] He would do the same with such a mayn [great] and army royal,
as should be formidable to the pope and all Italy. State Papers, vii.
p. 194; Burnet, Records, p. xxxvii.
[1040] Your grace's dexterity ... by good handling of the cardinal
Campeggio. State Papers, vol. 1. p. 336.
[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S DISFAVOUR.]
Thus after insupportable delays which had fatigued the nation, a
thunderbolt fell upon England. Court, clergy, and people, from whom it
was impossible to conceal these great events, were deeply stirred, and
the whole kingdom was in commotion. Wolsey, still hoping to ward off
the ruin impending over both himself and the papacy, immediately put
in play all that dexterity which Henry had spoken of; he so far
prevailed that the letters citatorial were not served on the king, but
only the brief addressed to Wolsey by Clement VII.[1041] The cardinal,
all radiant with this trivial success, and desirous of profiting by it
to raise his credit, resolved to accompany Campeggio, who was going
down to Grafton to take leave of the king. When the coming of the two
legates was heard of at court, the agitation was very great. The dukes
of Norfolk and Suffolk regarded this proceeding as the last effort of
their enemy, and entreated Henry not to receive him. "The king will
receive him," said some. "The king will not receive him," answered
others. At length one Sunday morning it was announced that the
prelates were at the gates of the mansion. Wolsey looked round with an
anxious eye for the great officers who were accustomed to introduce
him. They appeared, and desired Campeggio to follow them. When the
legate had been taken to his apartments, Wolsey waited his turn; but
great was his consternation on being informed that there was no
chamber appointed for him in the palace. Sir Henry Norris, groom of
the stole, offered Wolsey the use of his own room, and the cardinal
followed him, almost sinking beneath the humiliation he had
undergone.[1042] He made ready to appear before the king, and
summoning up his courage, proceeded to the presence-chamber.
[1041] Ibid. p. 343.
[1042] Cavendish, p. 237-245.
The lords of the council were standing in a row according to their
rank; Wolsey, taking off his hat, passed along saluting each of them
with affected civility. A great number of courtiers arrived, impatient
to see how Henry would receive his old favourite; and most of them
were already exulting in the striking disgrace of which they hoped to
be witnesses. At last the king was announced.
Henry stood under the cloth of state; and Wolsey advanced and knelt
before him. Deep silence prevailed throughout the chamber.... To the
surprise of all, Henry stooped down and raised him up with both
hands.... Then, with a pleasing smile, he took Wolsey to the window,
desired him to put on his hat, and talked familiarly with him. "Then,"
says Cavendish, the cardinal's gentleman usher, "it would have made
you smile to behold the countenances of those who had laid wagers that
the king would not speak with him."
But this was the last ray of evening which then lighted up the
darkening fortunes of Wolsey: the star of his favour was about to set
for ever.... The silence continued, for every one desired to catch a
few words of the conversation. The king seemed to be accusing Wolsey,
and Wolsey to be justifying himself. On a sudden Henry pulled a letter
out of his bosom, and showing it to the cardinal, said in a loud
voice: "How can that be? is not this your hand?" It was no doubt the
letter which Bryan had intercepted. Wolsey replied in an under-tone,
and seemed to have appeased his master. The dinner hour having
arrived, the king left the room telling Wolsey that he would not fail
to see him again; the courtiers were eager to make their profoundest
reverences to the cardinal, but he haughtily traversed the chamber,
and the dukes hastened to carry to Anne Boleyn the news of this
astonishing reception.
Wolsey, Campeggio, and the lords of the council sat down to dinner.
The cardinal, well aware that the terrible letter would be his utter
ruin, and that Henry's good graces had no other object than to prepare
his fall, began to hint at his retirement. "Truly," said he with a
devout air, "the king would do well to send his bishops and chaplains
home to their cures and benefices." The company looked at one another
with astonishment. "Yea, marry," said the duke of Norfolk somewhat
rudely, "and so it were meet for you to do also."--"I should be very
well contented therewith," answered Wolsey, "if it were the king's
pleasure to license me with leave to go to my cure at Winchester."--
"Nay, to your benefice at York, where your greatest honour and charge
is," replied Norfolk, who was not willing that Wolsey should be living
so near Henry.--"Even as it shall please the king," added Wolsey, and
changed the subject of conversation.
[Sidenote: HENRY AND ANNE BOLEYN.]