CHAPTER XXIX

HENRY VIII.

{1521.} During some years, many parts of Europe had been agitated with

those religious controversies which produced the reformation, one of the

greatest events in history: but as it was not till this time that the

king of England publicly took part in the quarrel, we had no occasion to

give any account of its rise and progress. It will now be necessary to

explain these theological disputes; or, what is more material, to trace

from their origin those abuses which so generally diffused the opinion,

that a reformation of the church or ecclesiastial order was become

highly expedient, if not absolutely necessary. We shall be better

enabled to comprehend the subject if we take the matter a little higher,

and reflect a moment on the reasons why there must be an ecclesiastical

order and a public establishment of religion in every civilized

community. The importance of the present occasion will, I hope, excuse

this short digression.

Most of the arts and professions in a state are of such a nature, that,

while they promote the interests of the society, they are also useful or

agreeable to some individuals; and, in that case, the constant rule of

the magistrate, except, perhaps, on the first introduction of any art,

is to leave the profession to itself, and trust its encouragement to

those who reap the benefit of it. The artisans, finding their profits to

rise by the favor of their customers, increase as much as possible their

skill and industry; and as matters are not disturbed by any injudicious

tampering, the commodity is always sure to be at all times nearly

proportioned to the demand.

But there are also some callings which, though useful and even necessary

in a state, bring no particular advantage or pleasure to any individual;

and the supreme power is obliged to alter its conduct with regard to the

retainers of those professions. It must give them public encouragement

in order to their subsistence; and it must provide against that

negligence to which they will naturally be subject, either by annexing

peculiar honors to the profession, by establishing a long subordination

of ranks and a strict dependence, or by some other expedient. The

persons employed in the finances, armies, fleets, and magistracy, are

instances of this order of men.

It may naturally be thought, at first sight, that the ecclesiastics

belong to the first class, and that their encouragement, as well as that

of lawyers and physicians, may safely be intrusted to the liberality of

individuals, who are attached to their doctrines, and who find benefit

or consolation from their spiritual ministry and assistance. Their

industry and vigilance will no doubt, be whetted by such an additional

motive; and their skill in their profession, as well as their address

in governing the minds of the people, must receive daily increase from

their increasing practice, study, and attention.

But if we consider the matter more closely, we shall find, that this

interested diligence of the clergy is what every wise legislator will

study to prevent; because in every religion, except the true, it is

highly pernicious, and it has even a natural tendency to pervert the

true, by infusing into it a strong mixture of superstition, folly, and

delusion. Each ghostly practitioner, in order to render himself more

precious and sacred in the eyes of his retainers, will inspire them

with the most violent abhorrence of all other sects, and continually

endeavor, by some novelty, to excite the languid devotion of his

audience. No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or decency, in the

doctrines inculcated. Every tenet will be adopted that best suits the

disorderly affections of the human frame. Customers will be drawn to

each conventicle by new industry and address, in practising on the

passions and credulity of the populace. And, in the end, the civil

magistrate will find, that he has dearly paid for his pretended

frugality, in saving a fixed establishment for the priests; and that in

reality the most decent and advantageous composition which he can make

with the spiritual guides is to bribe their indolence, by assigning

stated salaries to their profession, and rendering it superfluous

for them to be further active than merely to prevent their flock from

straying in quest of new pastures. And in this manner ecclesiastical

establishments, though commonly they arose at first from religious

views, prove in the end advantageous to the political interests of

society.

But we may observe, that few ecclesiastical establishments have been

fixed upon a worse foundation than that of the church of Rome, or have

been attended with circumstances more hurtful to the peace and happiness

of mankind. The large revenues, privileges, immunities, and powers of

the clergy, rendered them formidable to the civil magistrate; and armed

with too extensive authority an order of men who always adhere

closely together, and who never want a plausible pretence for their

encroachments and usurpations. The higher dignities of the church

served, indeed, to the support of gentry and nobility; but by the

establishment of monasteries, many of the lowest vulgar were taken

from the useful arts, and maintained in those receptacles of sloth

and ignorance. The supreme head of the church was a foreign potentate,

guided by interests always different from those of the community,

sometimes contrary to them. And as the hierarchy was necessarily

solicitous to preserve a unity of faith, rites, and ceremonies, all

liberty of thought ran a manifest risk of being extinguished; and

violent persecutions, or, what was worse, a stupid and abject credulity,

took place every where.

To increase these evils, the Church, though she possessed large

revenues, was not contented with her acquisitions, but retained a power

of practising further on the ignorance of mankind. She even bestowed

on each individual priest a power of enriching himself by the voluntary

oblations of the faithful, and left him still an urgent motive for

diligence and industry in his calling. And thus that church, though

an expensive and burdensome establishment, was liable to many of the

inconveniences which belong to an order of priests, trusting entirely to

their own art and invention for obtaining a subsistence.

The advantages attending the Romish hierarchy were but a small

compensation for its inconveniences. The ecclesiastical privileges,

during barbarous times, had served as a check on the despotism of

kings. The union of all the western churches under the supreme pontiff

facilitated the intercourse of nations, and tended to bind all the parts

of Europe into a close connection with each other. And the pomp and

splendor of worship which belonged to so opulent an establishment,

contributed in some respect to the encouragement of the fine arts,

and began to diffuse a general elegance of taste by uniting it with

religion.

It will easily be conceived that, though the balance of evil prevailed

in the Romish church, this was not the chief reason which produced the

reformation. A concurrence of incidents must have contributed to forward

that great revolution.

Leo X., by his generous and enterprising temper, had much exhausted his

treasury, and was obliged to employ every invention which might yield

money, in order to support his projects, pleasures, and liberalities.

The scheme of selling indulgences was suggested to him, as an expedient

which had often served in former times to draw money from the Christian

world, and make devout people willing contributors to the grandeur and

riches of the court of Rome. The church, it was supposed, was possessed

of a great stock of merit, as being entitled to all the good works of

all the saints, beyond what were employed in their own justification;

and even to the merits of Christ himself, which were infinite and

unbounded; and from this unexhausted treasury the pope might retail

particular portions, and by that traffic acquire money to be employed in

pious purposes, in resisting the infidels, or subduing schismatics. When

the money came into his exchequer, the greater part of it was usually

diverted to other purposes.[*]

It is commonly believed that Leo, from the penetration of his genius,

and his familiarity with ancient literature, was fully acquainted with

the ridicule and falsity of the doctrines which, as supreme pontiff,

he was obliged by his interest to promote: it is the less wonder,

therefore, that he employed for his profit those pious frauds which

his predecessors, the most ignorant and credulous, had always, under

plausible pretences, made use of for their selfish purposes. He

published the sale of a general indulgence; [**] and as his expenses

had not only exhausted his usual revenue, but even anticipated the money

expected from this extraordinary expedient, the several branches of it

were openly given away to particular persons, who were entitled to levy

the imposition. The produce, particularly of Saxony and the countries

bordering on the Baltic, was assigned to his sister Magdalene, married

to Cibo, natural son of Innocent VIII.; and she, in order to enhance her

profit, had farmed out the revenue to one Arcemboldi, a Genoese, once a

merchant, now a bishop, who still retained all the lucrative arts of his

former profession.[***] The Austin friars had usually been employed in

Saxony to preach the indulgences, and from this trust had derived both

profit and consideration: but Arcemboldi, fearing lest practice might

have taught them means to secrete the money,[****] and expecting no

extraordinary success from the ordinary methods of collection, gave this

occupation to the Dominicans.

* Father Paul and Sleidan.

** In 1517.

*** Father Paul. Sleidan.

**** Father Paul, lib. 1

These monks, in order to prove themselves worthy of the distinction

conferred on them, exaggerated the benefits of indulgences by the most

unbounded panegyrics; and advanced doctrines on that head, which,

though not more ridiculous than those already received, were not as yet

entirely familiar to the ears of the people.[*] [4] To add to the scandal,

the collectors of this revenue are said to have lived very licentious

lives, and to have spent in taverns, gaming-houses, and places still

more infamous, the money which devout persons had saved from their usual

expenses, in order to purchase a remission of their sins.[**]

All these circumstances might have given offence, but would have been

attended with no event of any importance, had there not arisen a man

qualified to take advantage of the incident. Martin Luther, an Austin

friar, professor in the university of Wittemberg, resenting the affront

put upon his order, began to preach against these abuses in the sale

of indulgences; and being naturally of a fiery temper, and provoked by

opposition, he proceeded even to decry indulgences themselves; and was

thence carried, by the heat of dispute, to question the authority of the

pope, from which his adversaries derived their chief arguments against

him.[***] Still, as he enlarged his reading, in order to support these

tenets, he discovered some new abuse or error in the church of Rome;

and finding his opinions greedily hearkened to, he promulgated them by

writing, discourse, sermon, conference; and daily increased the number

of his disciples. All Saxony, all Germany, all Europe, were in a very

little time filled with the voice of this daring innovator; and men,

roused from that lethargy in which they had so long slept, began to call

in question the most ancient and most received opinions. The elector of

Saxony, favorable to Luther’s doctrine, protected him from the violence

of the papal jurisdiction: the republic of Zurich even reformed their

church according to the new model: many sovereigns of the empire, and

the imperial diet itself, showed a favorable disposition towards it: and

Luther, a man naturally inflexible, vehement, opinionative, was become

incapable, either from promises of advancement or terrors of severity,

to relinquish a sect of which he was himself the founder, and which

brought him a glory superior to all others--the glory of dictating the

religious faith and principles of multitudes.

* See note D, at the end of the volume.

** Father Paul, lib. i.

*** Father Paul. Sleidan

The rumor of these innovations soon reached England and as there

still subsisted in that kingdom great remains of the Lollards, whose

principles resembled those of Luther, the new doctrines secretly gained

many partisans among the laity of all ranks and denominations. But Henry

had been educated in a strict attachment to the church of Rome; and he

bore a particular prejudice against Luther, who, in his writings, spoke

with contempt of Thomas Aquinas, the king’s favorite author: he opposed

himself, therefore, to the progress of the Lutheran tenets, by all the

influence which his extensive and almost absolute authority conferred

upon him: he even under took to combat them with weapons not usually

employed by monarchs, especially those in the flower of their age and

force of their passions. He wrote a book in Latin against the principles

of Luther; a performance which, if allowance be made for the subject and

the age, does no discredit to his capacity. He sent a copy of it to Leo,

who received so magnificent a present with great testimony of

regard; and conferred on him the title of “defender of the faith;” an

appellation still retained by the kings of England. Luther, who was in

the heat of controversy, soon published an answer to Henry; and, without

regard to the dignity of his antagonist, treated him with all the

acrimony of style to which, in the course of his polemics, he had

so long been accustomed. The king, by this ill usage, was still more

prejudiced against the new doctrines; but the public, who naturally

favor the weaker party, were inclined to attribute to Luther the victory

in the dispute.[*] And as the controversy became more illustrious by

Henry’s entering the lists, it drew still more the attention of mankind;

and the Lutheran doctrine daily acquired new converts in every part of

Europe.

* Father Paul, lib. i.

The quick and surprising progress of this bold sect may justly in part

be ascribed to the late invention of printing, and revival of learning:

not that reason bore any considerable share in opening men’s eyes with

regard to the impostures of the Romish church; for of all branches of

literature, philosophy had, as yet, and till long afterwards, made

the most inconsiderable progress; neither is there any instance, that

argument has ever been able to free the people from that enormous load

of absurdity with which superstition has every where overwhelmed them;

not to mention, that the rapid advance of the Lutheran doctrine and the

violence with which it was embraced, prove sufficiently, that it owed

not its success to reason and reflection. The art of printing and the

revival of learning forwarded its progress in another manner. By means

of that art, the books of Luther and his sectaries full of vehemence,

declamation, and a rude eloquence, were propagated more quickly, and

in greater numbers. The minds of men, somewhat awakened from a profound

sleep of so many centuries, were prepared for every novelty, and

scrupled less to tread in any unusual path which was opened to them. And

as copies of the Scriptures and other ancient monuments of the Christian

faith became more common, men perceived the innovations which were

introduced after the first centuries; and though argument and reasoning

could not give conviction, an historical fact, well supported, was able

to make impression on their understandings. Many of the powers, indeed,

assumed by the church of Rome, were very ancient, and were prior to

almost every political government established in Europe: but as the

ecclesiastics would not agree to possess their privileges as matters

of civil right, which time might render valid, but appealed still to a

divine origin, men were tempted to look into their primitive charter,

and they could, without much difficulty, perceive its defect in truth

and authenticity.

In order to bestow on this topic the greater influence, Luther and his

followers, not satisfied with opposing the pretended divinity of the

Romish church, and displaying the temporal inconveniences of that

establishment, carried matters much further, and treated the religion of

their ancestors as abominable, detestable, damnable; foretold by

sacred writ itself as the source of all wickedness and pollution. They

denominated the pope Antichrist, called his communion the scarlet whore,

and gave to Rome the appellation of Babylon; expressions which, however

applied, were to be found in Scripture, and which were better calculated

to operate on the multitude than the most solid arguments. Excited by

contest and persecution on the one hand, by success and applause on the

other, many of the reformers carried to the greatest extremities their

opposition to the church of Rome; and in contradiction to the multiplied

superstitions with which that communion was loaded, they adopted an

enthusiastic strain of devotion, which admitted of no observances,

rites, or ceremonies, but placed all merit in a mysterious species of

faith in inward vision, rapture, and ecstasy. The new sectaries seized

with this spirit, were indefatigable in the propagation of their

doctrine, and set at defiance all the anathemas and punishments with

which the Roman pontiff endeavored to overwhelm them.

That the civil power, however, might afford them protection against the

ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the Lutherans advanced doctrines favorable

in some respect to the temporal authority of sovereigns. They inveighed

against the abuses of the court of Rome, with which men were at that

time generally discontented; and they exhorted princes to reinstate

themselves in those powers, of which the encroaching spirit of the

ecclesiastics, especially of the sovereign pontiff, had so long bereaved

them. They condemned celibacy and monastic vows, and thereby opened the

doors of the convents to those who were either tired of the obedience

and chastity, or disgusted with the license, in which they had hitherto

lived. They blamed the excessive riches, the idleness, the libertinism

of the clergy; and pointed out their treasures and revenues as lawful

spoil to the first invader. And as the ecclesiastics had hitherto

conducted a willing and a stupid audience, and were totally unacquainted

with controversy, much more with every species of true literature, they

were unable to defend themselves against men armed with authorities,

quotations, and popular topics, and qualified to triumph in every

altercation or debate. Such were the advantages with which the reformers

began their attack on the Romish hierarchy; and such were the causes of

their rapid and astonishing success.

Leo X., whose oversights and too supine trust in the profound ignorance

of the people had given rise to this sect, but whose sound judgment,

moderation, and temper, were well qualified to retard its progress, died

in the flower of his age, a little after he received the king’s book

against Luther, and he was succeeded in the papal chair by Adrian, a

Fleming, who had been tutor to the emperor Charles. This man was fitted

to gain on the reformers by the integrity, candor, and simplicity of

manners which distinguished his character but, so violent were their

prejudices against the church, he rather hurt the cause by his imprudent

exercise of those virtues. He frankly confessed, that many abominable

and detestable practices prevailed in the court of Rome; and by this

sincere avowal, he gave occasion of much triumph to the Lutherans. This

pontiff also, whose penetration was not equal to his good intentions,

was seduced to concur in that league which Charles and Henry had formed

against France;[*] and he thereby augmented the scandal occasioned by

the practice of so many preceding popes, who still made their spiritual

arms subservient to political purposes.

{1522.} The emperor, who knew that Wolsey had received a disappointment

in his ambitious hopes by the election of Adrian, and who dreaded the

resentment of that haughty minister, was solicitous to repair the breach

made in their friendship by this incident. He paid another visit to

England; and besides flattering the vanity of the king and the cardinal,

he renewed to Wolsey all the promises which he had made him of seconding

his pretensions to the papal throne. Wolsey, sensible that Adrian’s

great age and infirmities promised a speedy vacancy, dissembled his

resentment, and was willing to hope for a more prosperous issue to the

next election. The emperor renewed the treaty made at Bruges, to which

some articles were added; and he agreed to indemnify both the king and

Wolsey for the revenue which they should lose by a breach with France.

The more to ingratiate himself with Henry and the English nation, he

gave to Surrey, admiral of England, a commission for being admiral of

his dominions; and he himself was installed knight of the garter

at London. After a stay of six weeks in England, he embarked at

Southampton, and in ten days arrived in Spain, where he soon pacified

the tumults which had arisen in his absence.[**]

* Guicciard. lib. xiv.

** Petrus de Angleria, epist. 765.

The king declared war against France; and this measure was founded on so

little reason, that he could allege nothing as a ground of quarrel, but

Francis’s refusal to submit to his arbitration, and his sending Albany

into Scotland. This last step had not been taken by the French king,

till he was quite assured of Henry’s resolution to attack him. Surrey

landed some troops at Cherbourg, in Normandy; and after laying waste the

country, he sailed to Morlaix, a rich town in Brittany, which he took

and plundered. The English merchants had great property in that place,

which was no more spared by the soldiers than the goods of the French.

Surrey then left the charge of the fleet to the vice-admiral; and sailed

to Calais, where he took the command of the English army destined for

the invasion of France. This army, when joined by forces from the Low

Countries, under the command of the count de Buren, amounted in the

whole to eighteen thousand men.

The French had made it a maxim, in almost all their wars with the

English since the reign of Charles V., never, without great necessity,

to hazard a general engagement; and the duke of Vendôme, who commanded

the French army, now embraced this wise policy. He supplied the towns

most exposed, especially Boulogne, Montreuil, Terouenne, Hedin with

strong garrisons and plenty of provisions: he himself took post at

Abbeville, with some Swiss and French infantry, and a body of cavalry:

the count of Guise encamped under Montreuil with six thousand men. These

two bodies were in a situation to join upon occasion; to throw supply

into any town that was threatened; and to harass the English in every

movement. Surrey, who was not provided with magazines, first divided

his troops for the convenience of subsisting them; but finding that

his quarters were every moment beaten up by the activity of the French

generals, he drew together his forces, and laid siege to Hedin. But

neither did he succeed in this enterprise. The garrison made vigorous

sallies upon his army: the French forces assaulted him from without:

great rains fell: fatigue and bad weather threw the soldiers into

dysenteries: and Surrey was obliged to raise the siege, and put his

troops into winter quarters about the end of October. His rear guard was

attacked at Pas, in Artois, and five or six hundred men were cut off;

nor could all his efforts make him master of one place within the French

frontier.

The allies were more successful in Italy. Lautrec, who commanded the

French, lost a great battle at Bicocca, near Milan; and was obliged to

retire with the remains of his army. This misfortune, which proceeded

from Francis’s negligence in not supplying Lautrec with money,[*]

was followed by the loss of Genoa. The castle of Cremona was the sole

fortress in Italy which remained in the hands of the French.

* Guicciard. lib. xiv.

Europe was now in such a situation, and so connected by different

alliances and interests, that it was almost impossible for war to be

kindled in one part, and not diffuse itself throughout the whole; but

of all the leagues among kingdoms the closest was that which had so long

subsisted between France and Scotland; and the English, while at war

with the former nation, could not hope to remain long unmolested on the

northern frontier. No sooner had Albany arrived in Scotland, than he

took measures for kindling a war with England; and he summoned the whole

force of the kingdom to meet in the fields of Rosline.[*] He thence

conducted the army southwards into Annandale, and prepared to pass the

borders at Solway Frith. But many of the nobility were disgusted with

the regent’s administration; and observing that his connections with

Scotland were feeble in comparison of those which he maintained with

France, they murmured that for the sake of foreign interests, their

peace should so often be disturbed and war, during their king’s

minority, be wantonly entered into with a neighboring nation, so much

superior in force and riches. The Gordons, in particular, refused to

advance any farther; and Albany, observing a general discontent to

prevail was obliged to conclude a truce with Lord Dacres, warden of the

English west marches. Soon after he departed for France; and lest the

opposite faction should gather force in his absence, he sent thither

before him the earl of Angus, husband to the queen dowager.

{1523.} Next year, Henry, that he might take advantage of the regent’s

absence, marched an army into Scotland under the command of Surrey, who

ravaged the Merse and Teviotdale without opposition, and burned the town

of Jedburgh. The Scots had neither king nor regent to conduct them:

the two Humes had been put to death: Angus was in a manner banished: no

nobleman of vigor or authority remained, who was qualified to assume the

government: and the English monarch, who knew the distressed situation

of the country, determined to push them to extremity, in hopes of

engaging them, by the sense of their present weakness, to make a solemn

renunciation of the French alliance, and to embrace that of England.[*]

He even gave them hopes of contracting a marriage between the lady Mary,

heiress of England, and their young monarch; an expedient which would

forever unite the two kingdoms:[**] and the queen dowager, with her

whole party, recommended every where the advantages of this alliance,

and of a confederacy with Henry.

* Buchanan, lib. xiv. Drummond. Pitscottie.

** Buchanan, lib. xiv. Herbert.

*** Le Grand, vol. iii. p. 39.

They said that the interests of Scotland had too long been sacrificed to

those of the French nation, who, whenever they found themselves reduced

to difficulties, called for the assistance of their allies; but were

ready to abandon them as soon as they found their advantage in making

peace with England: that where a small state entered into so close a

confederacy with a greater, it must always expect this treatment, as

a consequence of the unequal alliance; but there were peculiar

circumstances in the situation of the kingdoms, which, in the present

case, rendered it inevitable: that France was so distant, and so divided

from them by sea, that she scarcely could, by any means, and never could

in time, send succors to the Scots, sufficient to protect them against

ravages from the neighboring kingdom: that nature had, in a manner,

formed an alliance between the two British nations; having enclosed them

in the same island; given them the same manners, language, laws, and

form of government; and prepared every thing for an intimate union

between them: and that, if national antipathies were abolished, which

would soon be the effect of peace, these two kingdoms, secured by the

ocean and by their domestic force, could set at defiance all foreign

enemies, and remain forever safe and unmolested.

The partisans of the French alliance, on the other hand, said, that the

very reasons which were urged in favor of a league with England, the

vicinity of the kingdom and its superior force, were the real causes

why a sincere and durable confederacy could never be formed with that

hostile nation: that among neighboring states occasions of quarrel were

frequent, and the more powerful would be sure to seize every frivolous

pretence for oppressing the weaker, and reducing it to subjection: that

as the near neighborhood of France and England had kindled a war almost

perpetual between them, it was the interest of the Scots, if they wished

to maintain their independence, to preserve their league with the former

kingdom, which balanced the force of the latter: that if they deserted

that old and salutary alliance on which their importance in Europe

chiefly depended, their ancient enemies, stimulated both by interest and

by passion, would soon invade them with superior force, and bereave them

of all their liberties: or if they delayed the attack, the insidious

peace, by making the Scots forget the use of arms, would only prepare

the way for a slavery more certain and more irretrievable.[*]

* Buchanan, lib. xiv.

The arguments employed by the French party, being seconded by the

natural prejudices of the people, seemed most prevalent: and when the

regent himself, who had been long detained beyond his appointed time by

the danger from the English fleet, at last appeared among them, he was

able to throw the balance entirely on that side. By authority of the

convention of states, he assembled an army, with a view of avenging the

ravages committed by the English in the beginning of the campaign; and

he led them southwards towards the borders. But when they were passing

the Tweed at the bridge of Melross, the English party raised again such

opposition, that Albany thought proper to make a retreat. He marched

downwards, along the banks of the Tweed, keeping that river on his

right; and fixed his camp opposite to Werkcastle, which Surrey had

lately repaired. He sent over some troops to besiege this fortress, who

made a breach in it, and stormed some of the outworks: but the regent,

hearing of the approach of an English army, and discouraged by the

advanced season, thought proper to disband his forces and retire to

Edinburgh. Soon after, he went over to France, and never again returned

to Scotland. The Scottish nation, agitated by their domestic factions,

were not, during several years, in a condition to give any more

disturbance to England; and Henry had full leisure to prosecute his

designs on the continent.

The reason why the war against France proceeded so slowly on the part

of England, was the want of money. All the treasures of Henry VII. were

long ago dissipated; the king’s habits of expense still remained; and

his revenues were unequal even to the ordinary charge of government,

much more to his military enterprises. He had last year caused a general

survey to be made of the kingdom; the numbers of men, their years,

profession, stock, revenue;[*] and expressed great satisfaction on

finding the nation so opulent. He then issued privy seals to the most

wealthy, demanding loans of particular sums: this act of power, though

somewhat irregular and tyrannical, had been formerly practised by kings

of England; and the people were now familiarized to it. But Henry, this

year, carried his authority much further. He published an edict for

a general tax upon his subjects, which he still called a loan; and he

levied five shillings in the pound upon the clergy, two shillings upon

the laity. This pretended loan, as being more regular, was really more

dangerous to the liberties of the people, and was a precedent for the

king’s imposing taxes without consent of parliament.

* Herbert. Stowe, p. 514.

Henry soon after summoned a parliament, together with a convocation; and

found neither of them in a disposition to complain of the infringement

of their privileges. It was only doubted how far they would carry their

liberality to the king. Wolsey, who had undertaken the management of the

affair, began with the convocation, in hopes that their example would

influence the parliament to grant a large supply. He demanded a moiety

of the ecclesiastical revenues to be levied in five years, or two

shillings in the pound during that time; and though he met with

opposition, he reprimanded the refractory members in such severe terms,

that his request was at last complied with. The cardinal afterwards,

attended by several of the nobility and prelates, came to the house of

commons; and in a long and elaborate speech laid before them the public

necessities, the danger of an invasion from Scotland, the affronts

received from France, the league in which the king was engaged with the

pope and the emperor; and he demanded a grant of eight hundred thousand

pounds, divided into four yearly payments; a sum computed, from the late

survey or valuation, to be equal to four shillings in the pound of one

year’s revenue, or one shilling in the pound yearly, according to the

division proposed.[*] So large a grant was unusual from the commons;

and though the cardinal’s demand was seconded by Sir Thomas More the

speaker, and several other members attached to the court, the house

could not be prevailed with to comply.[**]

* This survey or valuation is liable to much suspicion, as

fixing the rents a great deal too high; unless the sum

comprehend the revenues of all kinds, industry as well as

land and money.

** Herbert. Stowe, p. 518. Parl. Hist. Strype, vol. i. p.

49, 59.

[Illustration: 1-371-more.jpg SIR THOMAS MORE]

They only voted two shillings in the pound on all who enjoyed twenty

pounds a year and upwards; one shilling on all who possessed between

twenty pounds and forty shillings a year; and on the other subjects

above sixteen years of age, a groat a head. This last sum was divided

into two yearly payments; the former into four, and was not therefore at

the utmost above sixpence in the pound. The grant of the commons was

but the moiety of the sum demanded; and the cardinal, therefore, much

mortified with the disappointment, came again to the house, and desired

to reason with such as refused to comply with the king’s request. He

was told that it was a rule of the house never to reason but among

themselves; and his desire was rejected. The commons, however, enlarged

a little their former grant, and voted an imposition of three shillings

in the pound on all possessed of fifty pounds a year and upwards.[*] [5]

The proceedings of this house of commons evidently discover the humor of

the times: they were extremely tenacious of their money, and refused a

demand of the crown which was far from being unreasonable; but they

allowed an encroachment on national privileges to pass uncensured,

though its direct tendency was to subvert entirely the liberties of the

people. The king was so dissatisfied with this saving disposition of the

commons, that, as he had not called a parliament during seven years

before, he allowed seven more to elapse before he summoned another. And

on pretence of necessity, he levied in one year, from all who were worth

forty pounds, what the parliament had granted him payable in four

years;[**] a new invasion of national privileges. These irregularities

were commonly ascribed to the cardinal’s counsels, who, trusting to the

protection afforded him by his ecclesiastical character, was the less

scrupulous in his encroachment on the civil rights of the nation.

* See note E, at the end of the volume.

** Speed. Hall. Herbert.

That ambitious prelate received this year a new disappointment in his

aspiring views. The pope, Adrian VI., died; and Clement VII., of the

family of Medicis, was elected in his place, by the concurrence of

the imperial party. Wolsey could not perceive the insincerity of the

emperor, and he concluded that that prince would never second his

pretensions to the papal chair. As he highly resented this injury, he

began thenceforth to estrange himself from the imperial court, and

to pave the way for a union between his master and the French king.

Meanwhile he concealed his disgust; and after congratulating the new

pope on his promotion, applied for a continuation of the legatine powers

which the two former popes had conferred upon him. Clement, knowing the

importance of gaining his friendship, granted him a commission for life;

and, by this unusual concession, he in a manner transferred to him the

whole papal authority in England. In some particulars Wolsey made a good

use of this extensive power. He erected two colleges, one at Oxford,

another at Ipswich, the place of his nativity: he sought all over Europe

for learned men to supply the chairs of these colleges; and in order to

bestow endowments on them, he suppressed some smaller monasteries, and

distributed the monks into other convents. The execution of this project

became the less difficult for him, because the Romish church began

to perceive, that she overabounded in monks, and that she wanted some

supply of learning, in order to oppose the inquisitive, or rather

disputative humor of the reformers.

The confederacy against France seemed more formidable than ever, on

the opening of the campaign.[*] Adrian before his death had renewed the

league with Charles and Henry. The Venetians had been induced to desert

the French alliance, and to form engagements for securing Francis

Sforza, brother to Maximilian, in possession of the Milanese. The

Florentines, the dukes of Ferrara and Mantua, and all the powers of

Italy, combined in the same measure. The emperor in person menaced

France with a powerful invasion on the side of Guienne: the forces of

England and the Netherlands hovered over Picardy: a numerous body of

Germans were preparing to ravage Burgundy: but all these perils from

foreign enemies were less threatening than a domestic conspiracy, which

had been formed, and which was now come to full maturity, against the

French monarch.

* Guicciard. lib. xiv.

Charles, duke of Bourbon, constable of France, was a prince of the most

shining merit; and, besides distinguishing himself in many military

enterprises, he was adorned with every accomplishment which became a

person of his high station. His virtues, embellished with the graces of

youth, had made such impression on Louise of Savoy, Francis’s mother,

that, without regard to the inequality of their years, she made him

proposals of marriage; and meeting with a repulse, she formed schemes

of unrelenting vengeance against him. She was a woman false, deceitful,

vindictive, malicious; but, unhappily for France, had, by her capacity,

which was considerable, acquired an absolute ascendant over her son. By

her instigation, Francis put many affronts on the constable, which it

was difficult for a gallant spirit to endure; and at last he permitted

Louise to prosecute a lawsuit against him, by which, on the most

frivolous pretences, he was deprived of his ample possessions; and

inevitable ruin was brought upon him.

Bourbon, provoked at all these indignities, and thinking that, if

any injuries could justify a man in rebelling against his prince

and country, he must stand acquitted, had entered into a secret

correspondence with the emperor and the king of England.[*] Francis,

pertinacious in his purpose of recovering the Milanese, had intended to

lead his army in person into Italy; and Bourbon, who feigned sickness

in order to have a pretence for staying behind, purposed, as soon as

the king should have passed the Alps, to raise an insurrection among

his numerous vassals, by whom he was extremely beloved, and to introduce

foreign enemies into the heart of the kingdom. Francis got intimation

of his design; but as he was not expeditious enough in securing so

dangerous a foe, the constable made his escape;[**] and entering into

the emperor’s service, employed all the force of his enterprising

spirit, and his great talents for war, to the prejudice of his native

country.

The king of England, desirous that Francis should undertake his Italian

expedition, did not openly threaten Picardy this year with an invasion;

and it was late before the duke of Suffolk, who commanded the English

forces, passed over to Calais. He was attended by the lords Montacute,

Herbert, Ferrars, Morney, Sandys, Berkeley, Powis, and many other

noblemen and gentlemen.[***]

* Mémoires du Bellai, liv. ii.

** Belcarius, lib. xvii.

*** Herbert.

The English army, reënforced by some troops drawn from the garrison

of Calais, amounted to about twelve thousand men; and having joined an

equal number of Flemings under the count de Buren, they prepared for an

invasion of France. The siege of Boulogne was first proposed; but that

enterprise appearing difficult, it was thought more advisable to leave

this town behind them. The frontier of Picardy was very ill provided

with troops; and the only defence of that province was the activity of

the French officers, who infested the allied army in their march,

and threw garrisons, with great expedition, into every town which

was threatened by them. After coasting the Somme, and passing Hedin,

Montreuil, Dourlens, the English and Flemings presented themselves

before Bray, a place of small force, which commanded a bridge over that

river. Here they were resolved to pass, and, if possible, to take up

winter quarters in France; but Crequi threw himself into the town and

seemed resolute to defend it. The allies attacked him with vigor and

success; and when he retreated over the bridge, they pursued him so

hotly, that they allowed him not time to break it down, but passed

it along with him, and totally routed his army. They next advanced to

Montdidier, which they besieged, and took by capitulation. Meeting with

no opposition, they proceeded to the River Oise, within eleven leagues

of Paris, and threw that city into great consternation; till the duke

of Vendôme hastened with some forces to its relief. The confederates,

afraid of being surrounded, and of being reduced to extremities

during so advanced a season, thought proper to retreat. Montdidier was

abandoned; and the English and Flemings, without effecting any thing,

retired into their respective countries.

France defended herself from the other invasions with equal facility

and equal good fortune. Twelve thousand Lansquenets broke into Burgundy

under the command of the count of Furstenberg. The count of Guise, who

defended that frontier, had nothing to oppose to them but some militia,

and about nine hundred heavy-armed cavalry. He threw the militia into

the garrison towns; and with his cavalry he kept the field, and so

harassed the Germans, that they were glad to make their retreat into

Lorraine. Guise attacked them as they passed the Meuse, put them into

disorder, and cut off the greater part of their rear.

The emperor made great preparations on the side of Navarre; and though

that frontier was well guarded by nature, it seemed now exposed to

danger from the powerful invasion which threatened it. Charles besieged

Fontarabia, which a few years before had fallen into Francis’s hands;

and when he had drawn thither Lautrec, the French general, he of a

sudden raised the siege, and sat down before Bayonne. Lautrec, aware

of that stratagem, made a sudden march, and threw himself into Bayonne,

which he defended with such vigor and courage, that the Spaniards were

constrained to raise the siege. The emperor would have been totally

unfortunate on this side, had he not turned back upon Fontarabia, and,

contrary to the advice of all his generals, sitten down in the winter

season before that city, well fortified and strongly garrisoned. The

cowardice or misconduct of the governor saved him from the shame of a

new disappointment. The place was surrendered in a few days; and the

emperor, having finished this enterprise, put his troops into winter

quarters.

So obstinate was Francis in prosecuting his Italian expedition, that,

notwithstanding these numerous invasions with which his kingdom was

menaced on every side, he had determined to lead in person a powerful

army to the conquest of Milan. The intelligence of Bourbon’s conspiracy

and escape stopped him at Lyons; and fearing some insurrection in the

kingdom from the intrigues of a man so powerful and so much beloved,

he thought it prudent to remain in France and to send forward his army

under the command of Admiral Bonnivet. The duchy of Milan had been

purposely left in a condition somewhat defenceless, with a view of

alluring Francis to attack it, and thereby facilitating the enterprises

of Bourbon; and no sooner had Bonnivet passed the Tesin, than the army

of the league, and even Prosper Colonna, who commanded it, a prudent

general, were in the utmost confusion. It is agreed, that if Bonnivet

had immediately advanced to Milan, that great city, on which the whole

duchy depends, would have opened its gates without resistance: but as

he wasted his time in frivolous enterprises, Colonna had opportunity to

reënforce the garrison, and to put the place in a posture of defence.

Bonnivet was now obliged to attempt reducing the city by blockade and

famine; and he took possession of all the posts which commanded the

passages to it. But the army of the league, meanwhile, was not inactive;

and they so straitened and harassed the quarters of the French, that it

seemed more likely the latter should themselves perish by famine, than

reduce the city to that extremity.

{1524.} Sickness, and fatigue, and want had wasted them to such a

degree, that they were ready to raise the blockade; and their only hopes

consisted in a great body of Swiss, which was levied for the service

of the French king, and whose arrival was every day expected. But these

mountaineers no sooner came within sight of the French camp, than they

stopped, from a sudden caprice and resentment; and instead of joining

Bonnivet, they sent orders to a great body of their countrymen, who then

served under him, immediately to begin their march, and to return home

in their company.[*] After this desertion of the Swiss, Bonnivet had

no other choice but that of making his retreat as fast as possible into

France.

* Guicciard. lib. xv. Mémoires de Bellai, liv. ii.

The French being thus expelled Italy, the pope, the Venetians, the

Florentines, were satisfied with the advantage obtained over them, and

were resolved to prosecute their victory no further. All these powers,

especially Clement, had entertained a violent jealousy of the emperor’s

ambition; and their suspicions were extremely augmented when they saw

him refuse the investiture of Milan, a fief of the empire, to Francis

Sforza, whose title he had acknowledged, and whose defence he had

embraced.[*] They all concluded, that he intended to put himself in

possession of that important duchy, and reduce Italy to subjection:

Clement in particular, actuated by this jealousy, proceeded so far in

opposition to the emperor, that he sent orders to his nuncio at London

to mediate a reconciliation between France and England. But affairs were

not yet fully ripe for this change. Wolsey, disgusted with the emperor,

but still more actuated by vain-glory, was determined that he himself

should have the renown of bringing about that great alteration; and he

engaged the king to reject the pope’s mediation.

* Guicciard. lib. xv.

A new treaty was even concluded between Henry and Charles for the

invasion of France. Charles stipulated to supply the Duke of Bourbon

with a powerful army, in order to conquer Provence and Dauphiny: Henry

agreed to pay him a hundred thousand crowns for the first month; after

which he might either choose to continue the same monthly payments,

or invade Picardy with a powerful army. Bourbon was to possess these

provinces with the title of king; but to hold them in fee of Henry as

king of France. The duchy of Burgundy was to be given to Charles; the

rest of the kingdom to Henry. This chimerical partition immediately

failed of execution in the article which was most easily performed:

Bourbon refused to acknowledge Henry as king of France. His enterprise,

however, against Provence still took place. A numerous army of

imperialists invaded that country, under his command and that of the

marquis of Pescara. They laid siege to Marseilles, which, being weakly

garrisoned, they expected to reduce in a little time; but the citizens

defended themselves with such valor and obstinacy, that Bourbon and

Pescara, who heard of the French king’s approach with a numerous army,

found themselves under the necessity of raising the siege; and they led

their forces, weakened, baffled, and disheartened, into Italy.

Francis might now have enjoyed in safety the glory of repulsing all his

enemies, in every attempt which they had hitherto made for invading

his kingdom; but as he received intelligence that the king of England,

discouraged by his former fruitless enterprises, and disgusted with

the emperor, was making no preparations for any attempt on Picardy, his

ancient ardor seized him for the conquest of Milan; and notwithstanding

the advanced season, he was immediately determined, contrary to the

advice of his wisest counsellors, to lead his army into Italy.

He passed the Alps at Mount Cenis, and no sooner appeared in Piedmont

than he threw the whole Milanese into consternation. The forces of the

emperor and Sforza retired to Lodi; and had Francis been so fortunate

as to pursue them, they had abandoned that place, and had been totally

dispersed;[*] but his ill fate led him to besiege Pavia, a town of

considerable strength, well garrisoned, and defended by Leyva, one of

the bravest officers in the Spanish service. Every attempt which the

French king made to gain this important place proved fruitless. He

battered the walls and made breaches; but, by the vigilance of Leyva,

new retrenchments were instantly thrown up behind the breaches: he

attempted to divert the course of the Tesin, which ran by one side of

the city and defended it; but an inundation of the river destroyed in

one night all the mounds which the soldiers during a long time, and with

infinite labor, had been erecting.

* Guicciard. lib. xv. Du Bellai, lib. ii.

{1525.} Fatigue and the bad season (for it was the depth of winter)

had wasted the French army. The imperial generals meanwhile were not

inactive. Pescara, and Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, assembled forces from

all quarters. Bourbon, having pawned his jewels, went into Germany, and

with the money, aided by his personal interest, levied a body of twelve

thousand Lansquenets, with which he joined the imperialists. This whole

army advanced to raise the siege of Pavia; and the danger to the French

became every day more imminent.

The state of Europe was such during that age, that, partly from the

want of commerce and industry every where, except in Italy and the Low

Countries, partly from the extensive privileges still possessed by the

people in all the great monarchies and their frugal maxims in granting

money, the revenues of the princes were extremely narrow, and even the

small armies which they kept on foot could not be regularly paid by

them*[**missing period] The imperial forces, commanded by Bourbon,

Pescara, and Lannoy, exceeded not twenty thousand men; they were the

only body of troops maintained by the emperor, (for he had not been able

to levy any army for the invasion of France, either on the side of

Spain or Flanders.) Yet so poor was that mighty monarch, that he could

transmit no money for the payment of this army; and it was chiefly the

hopes of sharing the plunder of the French camp which had made them

advance and kept them to their standards. Had Francis raised the siege

before their approach, and retired to Milan, they must immediately have

disbanded; and he had obtained a complete victory without danger or

bloodshed. But it was the character of this monarch to become obstinate

in proportion to the difficulties which he encountered; and having once

said, that he would take Pavia or perish before it, he was resolved

rather to endure the utmost extremities than depart from this

resolution.

The imperial generals, after cannonading the French camp for several

days, at last made a general assault, and broke into the intrenchments.

Leyva sallied from the town, and increased the confusion among the

besiegers. The Swiss infantry, contrary to their usual practice, behaved

in a dastardly manner, and deserted their post. Francis’s forces were

put to rout; and he himself, surrounded by his enemies, after fighting

with heroic valor, and killing seven men with his own hand, was at last

obliged to surrender himself prisoner. All most the whole army, full

of nobility and brave officers, either perished by the sword or were

drowned in the river. The few who escaped with their lives fell into the

hands of the enemy.

The emperor received this news by Pennalosa, who passed through

France by means of a safe-conduct granted him by the captive king. The

moderation which he displayed on this occasion, had it been sincere,

would have done him honor. Instead of rejoicing, he expressed sympathy

with Francis’s ill fortune, and discovered his sense of those calamities

to which the greatest monarchs are exposed.[*] He refused the city of

Madrid permission to make any public expressions of triumph; and said

that he reserved all his exultation till he should he able to obtain

some victory over the infidels. He sent orders to his frontier garrisons

to commit no hostilities upon France.

* Vera. Hist. de Carl. V.

He spoke of concluding immediately a peace on reasonable terms. But all

this seeming moderation was only hypocrisy, so much the more dangerous

as it was profound. And he was wholly occupied in forming schemes

how, from this great incident, he might draw the utmost advantage, and

gratify that exorbitant ambition by which, in all his actions, he was

ever governed.

The same Pennalosa, in passing through France, carried also a letter

from Francis to his mother, whom he had left regent, and who then

resided at Lyons. It contained only these few words: “Madam, all is

lost, except our honor.” The princess was struck with the greatness of

the calamity. She saw the kingdom without a sovereign, without an army,

without generals, without money; surrounded on every side by implacable

and victorious enemies; and her chief resource, in her present

distresses, were the hopes which she entertained of peace and even of

assistance from the king of England.

Had the king entered into the war against France from any concerted

political views, it is evident that the victory of Pavia and the

captivity of Francis were the most fortunate incidents that could have

befallen him, and the only ones that could render his schemes effectual.

While the war was carried on in the former feeble manner, without any

decisive advantage, he might have been able to possess himself of some

frontier town, or perhaps of a small territory, of which he could not.

have kept possession without expending much more than its value. By some

signal calamity alone, which annihilated the power of France, could he

hope to acquire the dominion of considerable provinces, or dismember

that great monarchy, so affectionate to its own government and its own

sovereigns. But as it is probable that Henry had never before carried

his reflections so far, he was startled at this important event, and

became sensible of his own danger, as well as that of all Europe, from

the loss of a proper counterpoise to the power of Charles. Instead of

taking advantage, therefore, of the distressed condition of Francis, he

was determined to lend him assistance in his present calamities; and

as the glory of generosity in raising a fallen enemy concurred with

his political interests, he hesitated the less in embracing these new

measures.

Some disgusts also had previously taken place between Charles and Henry,

and still more between Charles and Wolsey; and that powerful minister

waited only for a favorable opportunity of revenging the disappointments

which he had met with. The behavior of Charles, immediately after the

victory of Pavia, gave him occasion to revive the king’s jealousy and

suspicions. The emperor so ill supported the appearance of moderation

which he at first assumed, that he had already changed his usual

style to Henry; and instead of writing to him with his own hand, and

subscribing himself “Your affectionate son and cousin,” he dictated

his letters to a secretary, and simply subscribed himself “Charles.”[*]

Wolsey also perceived a diminution in the caresses and professions with

which the emperor’s letters to him were formerly loaded; and this last

imprudence, proceeding from the intoxication of success, was probably

more dangerous to Charles’s interests than the other.

Henry, though immediately determined to embrace new measures, was

careful to save appearances in the change; and he caused rejoicings to

be every where made on account of the victory of Pavia and the captivity

of Francis. He publicly dismissed a French envoy, whom he had formerly

allowed, notwithstanding the war, to reside at London;[**] but upon the

regent of France’s submissive applications to him, he again opened a

correspondence with her; and besides assuring her of his friendship and

protection, he exacted a promise that she never would consent to the

dismembering of any province from the monarchy for her son’s ransom.

With the emperor, however, he put on the appearance of vigor and

enterprise; and in order to have a pretence for breaking with him, he

despatched Tonstal, bishop of London, to Madrid with proposals for a

powerful invasion of France. He required that Charles should immediately

enter Guienne at the head of a great army, in order to put him in

possession of that province; and he demanded the payments of large sums

of money which that prince had borrowed from him in his last visit

at London. He knew that the emperor was in no condition of fulfilling

either of these demands; and that he had as little inclination to make

him master of such considerable territories upon the frontiers of Spain.

* Guicciard. lib. xvi.

** Du Bellai, liv. iii Stowe, p. 221. Baker, p. 273.

Tonstal, likewise, after his arrival at Madrid, informed his master that

Charles, on his part, urged several complaints against England; and in

particular was displeased with Henry, because last year he had neither

continued his monthly payments to Bourbon nor invaded Picardy, according

to his stipulations. Tonstal added, that instead of expressing an

intention to espouse Mary when she should be of age, the emperor had

hearkened to proposals for marrying his niece Isabella, princess of

Portugal; and that he had entered into a separate treaty with Francis,

and seemed determined to reap alone all the advantages of the success

with which fortune had crowned his arms.

The king, influenced by all these motives, concluded at Moore his

alliance with the regent of France, and engaged to procure her son his

liberty on reasonable conditions:[*] the regent also, in another treaty,

acknowledged the kingdom Henry’s debtor for one million eight hundred

thousand crowns to be discharged in half-yearly payments of fifty

thousand crowns; after which Henry was to receive, during life, a yearly

pension of a hundred thousand. A large present of a hundred thousand

crowns was also made to Wolsey for his good offices, but covered under

the pretence of arrears due on the pension granted him for relinquishing

the administration of Tournay.

* Du Tillet, Recueil des Traités de Leonard, tom. ii.

Herbert.

Meanwhile Henry, foreseeing that this treaty with France might involve

him in a war with the emperor, was also determined to fill his treasury

by impositions upon his own subjects; and as the parliament had

discovered some reluctance in complying with his demands, he followed,

as is believed, the counsel of Wolsey, and resolved to make use of his

prerogative alone for that purpose. He issued commissions to all the

counties of England, for levying four shillings in the pound upon

the clergy, three shillings and fourpence upon the laity; and so

uncontrollable did he deem his authority, that he took no care to cover,

as formerly, this arbitrary exaction, even under the slender pretence

of a loan. But he soon found that he had presumed too far on the passive

submission of his subjects. The people, displeased with an exaction

beyond what was usually levied in those days, and further disgusted with

the illegal method of imposing it, broke out in murmurs, complaints,

opposition to the commissioners; and their refractory disposition

threatened a general insurrection. Henry had the prudence to stop short

in that dangerous path into which he had entered. He sent letters to all

the counties, declaring that he meant no force by this last imposition,

and that he would take nothing from his subjects but by way of

“benevolence.” He flattered himself, that his condescension in employing

that disguise would satisfy the people, and that no one would dare to

render himself obnoxious to royal authority, by refusing any payment

required of him in this manner. But the spirit of opposition, once

roused, could not so easily be quieted at pleasure. A lawyer in the

city objecting the statute of Richard III., by which benevolences were

forever abolished, it was replied by the court, that Richard being a

usurper, and his parliament a factious assembly, his statutes could not

bind a lawful and absolute monarch, who held his crown by hereditary

right, and needed not to court the favor of a licentious populace.[*]

* Herbert Hall.

The judges even went so far as to affirm positively, that the king might

exact by commission any sum he pleased; and the privy council gave

a ready assent to this decree, which annihilated the most valuable

privilege of the people, and rendered all their other privileges

precarious. Armed with such formidable authority of royal prerogative

and a pretence of law, Wolsey sent for the mayor of London, and desired

to know what he was willing to give for the supply of his majesty’s

necessities. The mayor seemed desirous, before he should declare

himself, to consult the common council; but the cardinal required that

he and all the aldermen should separately confer with himself about

the benevolence; and he eluded by that means the danger of a formed

opposition. Matters, however, went not so smoothly in the country. An

insurrection was begun in some places; but as the people were not headed

by any considerable person, it was easy for the duke of Suffolk, and

the earl of Surrey, now duke of Norfolk, by employing persuasion

and authority, to induce the ringleaders to lay down their arms and

surrender themselves prisoners. The king, finding it dangerous to punish

criminals engaged in so popular a cause, was determined, notwithstanding

his violent, imperious temper, to grant them a general pardon; and

he prudently imputed their guilt, not to their want of loyalty or

affection, but to their poverty. The offenders were carried before the

star chamber; where, after a severe charge brought against them by the

king’s council, the cardinal said, “that notwithstanding their grievous,

offence, the king, in, consideration of their necessities, had granted

them his gracious pardon, upon condition that they would find sureties

for their future good behavior.” But they, replying that they had no

sureties, the cardinal first, and after him the duke of Norfolk, said

that they would be bound for them. Upon which they were dismissed.[*]

* Herbert. Hall. Stowe, p. 525. Holingshed, p. 891.

These arbitrary impositions being imputed, though on what grounds is

unknown, to the counsels of the cardinal, increased the general odium

under which he labored: and the clemency of the pardon, being ascribed

to the king, was considered as an atonement on his part for the

illegality of the measure. But Wolsey, supported both by royal and

papal authority, proceeded without scruple to violate all ecclesiastical

privileges, which, during that age, were much more sacred than civil;

and having once prevailed in that unusual attempt of suppressing some

monasteries, he kept all the rest in awe, and exercised over them an

arbitrary jurisdiction. By his commission as legate he was empowered to

visit them, and reform them, and chastise their irregularities; and he

employed his usual agent, Allen, in the exercise of this authority.

The religious houses were obliged to compound for their guilt, real or

pretended, by paying large sums to the cardinal or his deputy; and this

oppression was carried so far, that it reached at last the king’s ears,

which were not commonly open to complaints against his favorite.

Wolsey had built a splendid palace at Hampton Court, which he probably

intended, as well as that of York Place, in Westminster, for his

own residence; but fearing the increase of envy on account of this

magnificence, and desirous to appease the king, he made him a present of

the building, and told him that, from the first, he had erected it for

his use.

The absolute authority possessed by the king rendered his domestic

government, both over his people and his ministers, easy and

expeditious: the conduct of foreign affairs alone required effort and

application; and they were now brought to such a situation, that it

was no longer safe for England to remain entirely neutral. The feigned

moderation of the emperor was of short duration; and it was soon obvious

to all the world, that his great dominions, far from gratifying

his ambition, were only regarded as the means of acquiring an more

extensive. The terms which he demanded of his prisoner were such as must

forever have annihilated the power of France, and destroyed the balance

of Europe. These terms were proposed to Francis soon after the battle

of Pavia, while he was detained in Pizzichitone; and as he had hitherto

trusted somewhat to the emperor’s generosity, the disappointment excited

in his breast the most lively indignation. He said, that he would rather

live and die a prisoner than agree to dismember his kingdom; and that

even were he so base as to submit to such conditions, his subjects would

never permit him to carry them into execution.

Francis was encouraged to persist in demanding more moderate terms by

the favorable accounts which he heard of Henry’s disposition towards

him, and of the alarm which had seized all the chief powers in Italy

upon his defeat and captivity. He was uneasy, however, to be so far

distant from the emperor, with whom he must treat; and he expressed his

desire (which was complied with) to be removed to Madrid, in hopes that

a personal interview would operate in his favor, and that Charles, if

not influenced by his ministers, might be found possessed of the same

frankness of disposition by which he himself was distinguished. He was

soon convinced of his mistake. Partly from want of exercise, partly

from reflections on his present melancholy situation, he fell into a

languishing illness; which begat apprehensions in Charles, lest the

death of his captive should bereave him of all those advantages which he

purposed to extort from him. He then paid him a visit in the castle

of Madrid; and as he approached the bed in which Francis lay, the sick

monarch called to him, “You come, sir, to visit your prisoner.” “No,”

replied the emperor, “I come to visit my brother and my friend, who

shall soon obtain his liberty.” He soothed his afflictions with many

speeches of a like nature, which had so good an effect that the king

daily recovered;[*] and thenceforth employed himself in concerting with

the ministers of the emperor the terms of his treaty.

* Herbert. Le Vera. Sandoval.

{1526.} At last, the emperor, dreading a general combination against

him, was willing to abate somewhat of his rigor: and the treaty of

Madrid was signed, by which, it was hoped an end would be finally put

to the differences between these great monarchs. The principal condition

was the restoring of Francis’s liberty, and the delivery of his two

eldest sons as hostages to the emperor for the cession of Burgundy. If

any difficulty should afterwards occur in the execution of this last

article, from the opposition of the states either of France or of that

province, Francis stipulated, that in six weeks’ time, he should return

to his prison, and remain there till the full performance of the treaty.

There were many other articles in this famous convention, all of them

extremely severe upon the captive monarch; and Charles discovered

evidently his intention of reducing Italy, as well as France, to

subjection and dependence.

Many of Charles’s ministers foresaw that Francis, how solemn soever the

oaths, promises, and protestations exacted of him, never would execute

a treaty so disadvantageous, or rather ruinous and destructive, to

himself, his posterity, and his country. By putting Burgundy, they

thought, into the emperor’s hands, he gave his powerful enemy an

entrance into the heart of the kingdom: by sacrificing his allies

in Italy, he deprived himself of foreign assistance; and, arming his

oppressor with the whole force and wealth of that opulent country,

rendered him absolutely irresistible. To these great views of interest

were added the motives, no less cogent, of passion and resentment; while

Francis, a prince who piqued himself on generosity, reflected on the

rigor with which he had been treated during his captivity, and the

severe terms which had been exacted of him for the recovery of his

liberty. It was also foreseen, that the emulation and rivalship, which

had so long subsisted between these two monarchs, would make him feel

the strongest reluctance on yielding the superiority to an antagonist

who, by the whole tenor of his conduct, he would be apt to think, had

shown himself so little worthy of that advantage which fortune, and

fortune alone, had put into his hands. His ministers, his friends, his

subjects, his allies, would be sure with one voice to inculcate on him,

that the first object of a prince was the preservation of his people;

and that the laws of honor, which, with a private man, ought to

be absolutely supreme, and superior to all interests, were, with a

sovereign, subordinate to the great duty of insuring the safety of his

country. Nor could it be imagined that Francis would be so romantic in

his principles, as not to hearken to a casuistry which was so plausible

in itself, and which so much flattered all the passions by which, either

as a prince or a man, he was strongly actuated.

Francis, on entering his own dominions, delivered his two eldest sons

as hostages into the hands of the Spaniards. He mounted a Turkish horse,

and immediately putting him to the gallop, he waved his hand, and cried

aloud several times, “I am yet a king.” He soon reached Bayonne,

where he was joyfully received by the regent and his whole court. He

immediately wrote to Henry; acknowledging that to his good offices alone

he owed his liberty, and protesting that he should be entirely governed

by his counsels in all transactions with the emperor. When the Spanish

envoy demanded his ratification of the treaty of Madrid, now that he had

fully recovered his liberty, he declined the proposal; under color that

it was previously necessary to assemble the states both of France and of

Burgundy, and to obtain their consent. The states of Burgundy soon

met; and declaring against the clause which contained an engagement for

alienating their province, they expressed their resolution of opposing,

even by force of arms, the execution of so ruinous and unjust an

article. The imperial minister then required that Francis, in conformity

to the treaty of Madrid, should now return to his prison; but the French

monarch, instead of complying, made public the treaty which a little

before he had secretly concluded at Cognac, against the ambitious

schemes and usurpations of the emperor.[*]

* Guicciard. lib. xvii.

The pope, the Venetians, and other Italian states, who were deeply

interested in these events, had been held in the most anxious suspense

with regard to the resolutions which Francis should take after the

recovery of his liberty; and Clement, in particular, who suspected that

this prince would never execute a treaty so hurtful to his interests,

and even destructive of his independency, had very frankly offered him a

dispensation from all his oaths and engagements. Francis remained not in

suspense; but entered immediately into the confederacy proposed to him.

It was stipulated by that king, the pope, the Venetians, the Swiss,

the Florentines, and the duke of Milan, among other articles, that they

would oblige the emperor to deliver up the two young princes of France

on receiving a reasonable sum of money; and to restore Milan to Sforza,

without further condition or encumbrance.

The king of England was invited to accede, not only as a contracting

party, but as protector of the “holy league,”--so it was called; and

if Naples should be conquered from the emperor, in prosecution of this

confederacy, it was agreed that Henry should enjoy a principality in

that kingdom of the yearly revenue of thirty thousand ducats; and that

cardinal Wolsey, in consideration of the services which he had rendered

to Christendom, should also, in such an event, be put in possession of a

revenue of ten thousand ducats.

Francis was desirous that the appearance of this great confederacy

should engage the emperor to relax somewhat in the extreme rigor of the

treaty of Madrid; and while he entertained these hopes, he was the

more remiss in his warlike preparations; nor did he send in due time

reënforcements to his allies in Italy.

{1527.} The duke of Bourbon had got possession of the whole Milanese,

of which the emperor intended to grant him the investiture; and having

levied a considerable army in Germany, he became formidable to all the

Italian potentates; and not the less so because Charles, destitute, as

usual, of money, had not been able to remit any pay to the forces. The

general was extremely beloved by his troops; and in order to prevent

those mutinies which were ready to break out every moment, and which

their affection alone for him had hitherto restrained, he led them to

Rome, and promised to enrich them by the plunder of that opulent city.

He was himself killed, as he was planting a scaling ladder against the

walls; but his soldiers, rather enraged than discouraged by his death,

mounted to the assault with the utmost valor, and entering the city

sword in hand, exercised all those brutalities which may be expected

from ferocity excited by resistance, and from insolence which takes

place when that resistance is no more. This renowned city, exposed by

her renown alone to so many calamities, never endured, in any age, even

from the barbarians by whom she was often subdued, such indignities as

she was now compelled to suffer. The unrestrained massacre and pillage,

which continued for several days, were the least ills to which the

unhappy Romans were exposed.[*] Whatever was respectable in modesty or

sacred in religion, seemed but the more to provoke the insults of the

soldiery. Virgins suffered violation in the arms of their parents, and

upon those very altars to which they had fled for protection.

* Guicciard. lib. xviii. Bellai. Stowe, p. 527.

Aged prelates, after enduring every indignity, and even every torture,

were thrown into dungeons, and menaced with the most cruel death, in

order to make them reveal their secret treasures, or purchase liberty by

exorbitant ransoms. Clement himself, who had trusted for protection to

the sacredness of his character, and neglected to make his escape in

time, was taken captive; and found that his dignity, which procured him

no regard from the Spanish soldiers, did but draw on him the insolent

mockery of the German, who, being generally attached to the Lutheran

principles, were pleased to gratify their animosity by the abasement of

the sovereign pontiff.

When intelligence of this great event was conveyed to the emperor,

that young prince, habituated to hypocrisy, expressed the most profound

sorrow for the success of his arms: he put himself and all his court in

mourning: he stopped the rejoicings for the birth of his son Philip: and

knowing that every artifice, however gross, is able, when seconded by

authority, to impose upon the people, he ordered prayers during several

months to be put up in the churches for the pope’s liberty; which all

men knew a letter under his hand could in a moment have procured.

The concern expressed by Henry and Francis for the calamity of their

ally was more sincere. These two monarchs, a few days before the sack

of Rome, had concluded a treaty[*] at Westminster, in which, besides

renewing former alliances, they agreed to send ambassadors to Charles,

requiring him to accept of two millions of crowns as the ransom of the

French princes, and to repay the money borrowed from Henry; and in

case of refusal, the ambassadors, attended by heralds, were ordered to

denounce war against him.

* 30th April.

This war it was agreed to prosecute in the Low Countries, with an army

of thirty thousand infantry and fifteen hundred men at arms, two thirds

to be supplied by Francis, the rest by Henry. And in order to strengthen

the alliance between the princes, it was stipulated, that either

Francis, or his son, the duke of Orleans, as should afterwards be agreed

on, should espouse the princess Mary, Henry’s daughter. No sooner did

the monarchs receive intelligence of Bourbon’s enterprise than they

changed, by a new treaty, the scene of the projected war from the

Netherlands to Italy; and hearing of the pope’s captivity, they were

further stimulated to undertake the war with vigor for restoring him to

liberty. Wolsey himself crossed the sea, in order to have an interview

with Francis and to concert measures for that purpose; and he

displayed all that grandeur and magnificence with which he was so

much intoxicated. He was attended by a train of a thousand horse. The

cardinal of Lorraine, and the chancellor Alençon, met him at Boulogne;

Francis himself, besides granting to that haughty prelate the power of

giving, in every place where he came, liberty to all prisoners, made a

journey as far as Amiens to meet him, and even advanced some miles from

the town, the more to honor his reception. It was here stipulated, that

the duke of Orleans should espouse the princess Mary; and as the emperor

seemed to be taking some steps towards assembling a general council, the

two monarchs agreed not to acknowledge it, but, during the interval

of the pope’s captivity, to govern the churches in their respective

dominions by their own authority. Wolsey made some attempts to get his

legatine power extended over France, and even over Germany; but finding

his efforts fruitless, he was obliged, though with great reluctance, to

desist from these ambitious enterprises.[*]

* Burnet, book iii. coll. 12, 13.

The more to cement the union between these princes, a new treaty was

some time after concluded at London; in which Henry agreed finally

to renounce all claims to the crown of France; claims which might now

indeed be deemed chimerical, but which often served as a pretence for

exciting the unwary English to wage war upon the French nation. As a

return for this concession, Francis bound himself and his successors to

pay forever fifty thousand crowns a year to Henry and his successors;

and that greater solemnity might be given to this treaty, it was agreed

that the parliaments and great nobility of both kingdoms should give

their assent to it. The mareschal Montmorency, accompanied by many

persons of distinction, and attended by a pompous equipage, was sent

over to ratify the treaty; and was received at London with all the

parade which suited the solemnity of the occasion. The terror of the

emperor’s greatness had extinguished the ancient animosity between the

nations; and Spain, during more than a century, became, though a more

distant power, the chief object of jealousy to the English.

This cordial union between France and England, though it added influence

to the joint embassy which they sent to the emperor, was not able to

bend that monarch to submit entirely to the conditions insisted on by

the allies. He departed, indeed, from his demand of Burgundy as the

ransom of the French princes; but he required, previously to their

liberty, that Francis should evacuate Genoa, and all the fortresses held

by him in Italy; and he declared his intention of bringing Sforza to a

trial, and confiscating the duchy of Milan, on account of his pretended

treason. The English and French heralds, therefore, according to

agreement, declared war against him, and set him at defiance. Charles

answered the English herald with moderation; but to the French he

reproached his master with breach of faith, reminded him of the private

conversation which had passed between them at Madrid before their

separation, and offered to prove by single combat that he had acted

dishonorably. Francis retaliated this challenge, by giving Charles the

lie; and, after demanding security of the field, he offered to maintain

his cause by single combat. Many messages passed to and fro between

them; but though both princes were undoubtedly brave, the intended duel

never took place. The French and Spaniards, during that age, zealously

disputed which of the monarchs incurred the blame of this failure; but

all men of moderation every where lamented the power of fortune, that

the prince the more candid, generous, and sincere, should, by unhappy

incidents, have been reduced to so cruel a situation, that nothing but

his violation of treaty could preserve his people, and that he must ever

after, without being able to make a proper reply, bear to be reproached

with breach of promise, by a rival inferior to him both in honor and

virtue.

But though this famous challenge between Charles and Francis had no

immediate consequence with regard to these monarchs themselves, it

produced a considerable alteration on the manners of the age. The

practice of challenges and duels, which had been part of the ancient

barbarous jurisprudence, which was still preserved on very solemn

occasions, and which was sometimes countenanced by the civil magistrate,

began thenceforth to prevail in the most trivial incidents; and men, on

any affront or injury, thought themselves entitled, or even required

in honor, to take revenge on their enemies, by openly vindicating their

right in single combat. These absurd, though generous maxims, shed much

of thee best blood in Christendom, during more than two centuries; and

notwithstanding the severity of law and authority of reason, such is

the prevailing force of custom, they are far from being as yet entirely

exploded.