into Oxford; while Cranmer was an undergraduate, Cambridge was still
lagging behind. In 1511, however, the placid, not to say stagnant,
waters were moved by the appointment of Erasmus to the Greek Chair.
There is no record of any personal intercourse between Cranmer and
the great scholar; but it was precisely at this time that the former
withdrew his attention from the scholastic philosophy and theology
which had hitherto absorbed him, and devoted himself to studying the
Scriptures. In the University he seems to have been regarded as an
undoubtedly learned scholar; for Wolsey, who as an educationist chose
his men with judgment, offered him a canonry at his new “Cardinal
College” at Oxford; but he was not looked upon as one who would seek
preferment or be selected for it unsought, or as in any sense an
intellectual leader. The only incident worth noting is that at the
outset, being still a layman, he lost his fellowship by marrying
a respectable young “gentlewoman,” a connexion of the landlord of
a Cambridge hostelry. On her death, however, a year later, he was
re-elected to his fellowship--apparently a unique instance in those
times of such recognition--proceeding afterwards to take Holy Orders.
Now, in those early days, the intelligence and ability, not only of
laymen, but of the greatest ecclesiastics were all on the side of the
intellectual emancipation of which Erasmus was the apostle. Archbishop
Warham was the scholar’s patron, Fox of Winchester was his warm
admirer, Fisher of Rochester had given him his Cambridge appointment.
From his disciples Wolsey chose the men for the great college which
was his favourite scheme outside of pure politics. Colet, Dean of St.
Paul’s, and Thomas More, were among his closest friends. No one of any
account thought of receiving with anything but the warmest welcome his
edition of the Greek Testament and the _Utopia_ of More, which appeared
about the same time. Then a somewhat startling event occurred. The Pope
wanted money; he sent out commissioners to obtain it by the sale of
indulgences; and a monk at Wittenberg rose up and publicly denounced
the whole scheme. At first, the meaning of the portent was not fully
appreciated; but before long the denunciation of indulgences developed
into a challenge of the entire Papal system, of the pretensions of the
Popes, and of sundry accepted dogmas. Reformation by the influence of
sweetness and light was by no means the same thing as this volcanic
revolution. The men who had done so much to make the new movement
possible became eager to repress it. The English king plunged into
theological controversy, triumphantly vindicating the Papacy and
pulverising the monk of Wittenberg.
Before many years had passed, however, Henry found reason to modify
his views, as More had warned him he might do. Papal pretensions
stood in the way of royal designs, and that fact brought it home to
him that those pretensions were not based upon a rock. The Bishop of
Rome was also a European potentate subject to political pressure from
other potentates--a political factor with a spiritual sanction. If the
spiritual sanction were challenged, the political situation would be
simplified. The king’s authority in his own dominions would no longer
be trammeled by the claims of a foreign authority to over-ride it. When
a collision between the royal and the Papal authority became imminent,
it was time to be rid of the Papacy for good and all. That, of course,
was quite a different thing from admitting heretical dogmas or denials
of dogma.
The occasion was the divorce[C] of Katharine of Aragon. If the Pope
had been amenable in that matter, Henry would in all likelihood have
left the Papal authority where he found it. But Clement, terrorised
by the Emperor, was not amenable--despite the efforts of Wolsey. The
collapse of the legatine trial ruined Wolsey and decided the king on a
campaign with the object of establishing the Crown as the sole head of
the Spirituality; involving the withdrawal or repudiation of the Papal
claims and the formal subjection of the clergy in England.
[C] This customary term for the proceedings has been used
throughout. But it may be necessary to note that a
“decree of nullity”--the thing sought--is not properly
speaking a “divorce” at all. Nullity means that no
marriage had in fact been contracted; divorce, that a
marriage which had been contracted is dissolved.
The trial had just collapsed. Henry in dudgeon retired to Waltham.
Two of his suite, his almoner Fox and his secretary Stephen Gardiner,
took up their quarters with a Mr. Cressy, in whose house Dr. Cranmer
happened to be residing, as the son’s tutor. Gardiner and Fox, being
also respectively Provost and Master of King’s and Trinity Hall, were
acquainted with Cranmer; and together they naturally discussed what was
known as “the king’s affair.” In the course of conversation Cranmer
expressed himself to the effect that Henry could do without the Papal
decision. He could obtain from the universities of Europe the opinion
of the qualified divines on the question whether a Papal dispensation
for a marriage with a deceased brother’s widow was _ultra vires_; and
take corresponding action on his own responsibility when he learnt the
result. The English courts, in short, were competent to pronounce the
marriage null or valid, but the position would be made impregnable if
they had the expert opinion of Europe to go upon. The conversation was
reported to Henry, who caught at the scheme and summoned its deviser to
talk to him. Their interview terminated Cranmer’s hitherto undisturbed
prospect of passing his days in peaceful and learned seclusion; such
an instrument as this was not to be wasted. Unscrupulous loyalty
Henry knew by experience he could command; servants of the type which
provided it could be used till the last ounce of service had been
extracted from them, and then cast aside. But Henry wanted a man of
undeniable learning, unblemished character, a tender conscience, a
convenient theory of Church and State, and a certain impressibility.
The combination was not easily found--but he had found it.
III
RISE TO THE ARCHBISHOPRIC
The common animosity towards Cranmer of those who hold “high” doctrines
on the function of the priesthood is entirely intelligible. For them,
the divine revelation is entrusted to the Church, and the voice of
the Church is the voice of her priesthood. Its authority is absolute,
and secular powers seeking to control it are laying profane hands on
the Ark of the Covenant. That laymen should not humbly recognise that
august claim is deplorable; still, for laymen some excuse may be found.
But that a priest should not merely disavow it in words, but emphasise
the disavowal by his acts, aiding and abetting the desecration as
well as justifying it, is intolerable. When, moreover, that priest is
himself, as it were, the shepherd of the whole flock, whose position
demands that he above all others should be the guardian and champion of
the Church’s rights, he becomes a double-dyed traitor. Palpably guilty
of so heinous a crime, the presumption in favour of the truth of any
minor charges against him is so strong that it is hardly necessary to
examine them: they may almost be taken for granted.
If, indeed, it be unpardonable to believe that the State is supreme,
there can be no pardon for Cranmer. But if once it be admitted that a
man is not of necessity a moral reprobate for holding that view, and
that it is possible, even for a priest, to maintain it with entire
honesty and sincerity, the whole fabric of Cranmer’s condemnation
collapses. To Cranmer, the State meant the king, and in the king he
found an authority more divine--more definitely, that is, of divine
sanction--than in any other of the powers that be. When in Queen Mary’s
reign he found the royal authority in flat opposition to what he held
to be truth, no doubt a very painful and puzzling dilemma presented
itself; but the same dilemma is presented to every individual who,
having recognised some external authority as final, suddenly discovers
that the dictates of that authority and those of his own conscience are
in flat contradiction.
Cranmer, in short, was as complete and convinced an Erastian as any
layman could possibly have been. It was the clear perception of that
fact which primarily made Henry select him as Archbishop Warham’s
successor. A frankly Erastian archbishop was an anomaly, but it is not
necessary _ipso facto_ to condemn him as a criminal and a hypocrite, or
even as a time-server.
Cranmer, like a good many other people, was thoroughly convinced that,
though the marriage with Katharine had been effected in perfect good
faith, it was invalid in the nature of things, and could not be made
valid by any sort of ecclesiastical sanction, Papal or other. The king
set him to work to formulate a plea for nullity, and placed him under
the immediate influence of the Boleyn household, where the simple man
very readily learnt to form the highest opinion of the lady whom the
king had determined to make a queen. Then he was sent with Anne’s
father on a futile embassy to Bologna; and not long after his return
he was again despatched as an enemy to Germany, where he made many
friends but did not succeed in gaining many converts to his view on the
divorce question. There also he took the extremely uncanonical step of
marrying; but it must be remembered that while such marriages among the
secular clergy were not recognised by the law, they were not regarded
as offences against morality, and were by no means infrequent; while
in Germany itself they had become, or were becoming, the rule rather
than the exception. Cranmer was still in Germany when he received the
unexpected and most unwelcome summons to return to England and take
upon himself the ungrateful honour of the archbishopric.
In the meantime Henry’s “Reformation” parliament had been at work;
the campaign against the Pope and the clerical organisation was in
full swing: and Convocation, under the aged Warham, had been compelled
to affirm the royal supremacy. The “submission of the clergy” had
become an accomplished fact in Cranmer’s absence, and before he held
any position of high authority. The most stubborn of the bishops were
unable to resist the pressure of the Crown. They bowed to the logic
of facts, under protest and against their convictions, without being
condemned as subservient. Cranmer is called subservient mainly because
his convictions were on the king’s side.
It was always more agreeable to Henry to employ on any job he had
in hand men to whom that particular job was not distasteful. Thus,
knowing Sir Thomas More’s sentiments as to the divorce, he had given
the new Chancellor no business in connexion with it. It is not likely
that any of the bishops at this time, with the exception of Fisher,
would have felt strongly as to a breach with Rome--Gardiner and
Stokesly were both advocates of the divorce. But it was more convenient
to have an archbishop as to whose sentiments there was no manner of
doubt. It is not impossible that Gardiner, not Cranmer, would have
been chosen, if his attitude in regard to the “Supplication against
the Ordinaries” and the “Submission” of Convocation had not made Henry
scent in him a possible Becket. The Bishop of Winchester’s services had
been of considerable value; and if Cranmer’s appointment stirred his
jealousy, he can hardly be blamed. But it is scarcely to be doubted
that a personal antagonism to the rival, for whose first preferment
to Henry’s notice he had himself been in part responsible and by whom
he now found himself superseded, exercised a marked influence on
Gardiner’s attitude from this time.
Cranmer, summoned home, delayed on the way as much as he dared--in the
hope, it is said, that the king might be persuaded to change his mind
and make another selection. However, he arrived in January; Henry--for
his own ends--put pressure on the Pope to hasten the necessary bulls,
and the new Archbishop was consecrated on March 30 (1533). An oath of
obedience to the Pope was a necessary part of the ceremony. Such oaths
are commonly regarded as mere formalities, binding precisely so long
as it is convenient to recognise them. Cranmer, however, being very
well aware that whosoever became archbishop would very soon find it
necessary to ignore the oath or else to defy the king, was at pains to
announce beforehand that he only intended to respect the oath so far
as it consorted with obedience to the king--a declaration which has
been rather oddly condemned as hypocritical. Oaths and promises[D] made
purely _pro forma_ are a not very excusable institution, but the open
profession that they are made _pro forma_ only makes such hypocrisy as
is involved less, not greater.
[D] How many godparents or brides, for instance, regard
the formal promises they make in the face of the
congregation as imposing a real and literal obligation?
IV
HENRY’S PRIMATE
The first business before Cranmer was to finish off the affair of
the divorce. Henry had already--whether in the previous November or
January--been privately married to Anne Boleyn. On the theory that
the marriage with Katharine was void _ab initio_, there was never any
bar to another marriage, though it was hardly possible to announce
one until the nullity had been formally declared: so that any further
delay was certain to cause a public scandal--since it was now April,
and Elizabeth was born in the following September. Convocation had
already pronounced in favour of Henry’s view; and if Cranmer was
somewhat anxious to evade possible obstructions, it was only because
the decision of the court was by this time a foregone conclusion.
For the destruction of More and Fisher (1534-1535) Cranmer was in
no sort of way responsible. He was on the Commission which had to
administer the Oath of Supremacy, which the two recalcitrants declined,
but it was not he who prescribed the form of the oath, nor had he
anything to say to the penalties. All he did do was to urge the king to
accept as sufficient a form of the oath to which Fisher and More were
both prepared to subscribe.
Something more is usually made of the Archbishop’s conduct at the
time of Anne Boleyn’s fall, as an instance of the subserviency which
is imputed to him. It is argued that officially at Henry’s bidding
he condemned the unhappy lady, while personally convinced of her
innocence. The whole story is enveloped in an obscurity which makes
that impression a natural one; nevertheless, the most probable
explanation of the circumstances is one which fairly exonerates the
Archbishop.
Henry had sought to have the nullity of the marriage with Katharine
established ostensibly for two main reasons. The first was the fruit of
conscience, that the union, though sanctioned by the Pope, was against
the moral law. The second was a reason of State, that a male heir to
the throne with an indisputable title was a necessity, and therefore
the king must be provided with another wife than Katharine. The other
wife he had chosen was Anne Boleyn, but she had failed to do what was
expected of her. Like her predecessor, she had borne a daughter, and
had two miscarriages Henry was tired of her, and was attracted to
another lady whose virtue was impregnable; therefore he wanted to be
rid of her in turn. Charges of treason on the ground of post-nuptial
immorality were brought against her, and on these she was condemned by
a court of peers composed in great part of those who would have been
readiest to welcome her acquittal. Here, we have nothing to do with
the truth or falsehood of the allegations; Cranmer was not one of the
judges, and had nothing whatever to do with the trial. But Anne had
from the first shown him the best side of her character, and he had a
perfect conviction that she was a good woman. He could not influence
the court; he had nothing which could be called evidence in her favour
to bring forward. The king’s wishes were obvious. Yet Cranmer took the
somewhat bold step of addressing the king, pleading earnestly and even
passionately on her behalf--though vainly.
But, for reasons best known to himself, Henry was not satisfied with a
condemnation for treason: he also required a divorce--or, to express
it more correctly, a declaration that the marriage, like that with
Katharine, had been void from the beginning. How could Cranmer, who
had officially declared it valid, now make any such pronouncement?
The answer is, that the technical ground on which it was voided had
not previously been taken into account. The story of a pre-contract
with Northumberland need not count for much, though for the avoidance
of scandal it was put in the forefront. The charges on which Anne was
condemned to death, while effective for proper divorce proceedings,
were irrelevant to the question of nullity. The real ground was that at
an earlier stage Henry had illicit relations with Anne’s elder sister,
Mary, thereby technically creating affinity with Anne, and rendering
the marriage with her void by canon law. How far Cranmer knew or
suspected this unofficially, when he declared the marriage valid, is
a matter of doubt--which is not set at rest by his pamphlet in favour
of the divorce. But, being now officially informed of it, he could not
maintain the technical validity of the marriage any longer. His view
of the importance of merely canonical prohibitions is illustrated by
his own uncanonical marriage. Even if he knew of the “affinity” he
would probably have accounted it no moral bar to a union. But, knowing
it, he could not deny that it made the marriage technically invalid.
It is, perhaps, worth noting that his plea for Anne’s life contains
a reference to Henry’s own morals, which may very well have been a
reminder that it was the king’s sin, not Anne’s, which had placed her
in a false position. As for her actual guilt or innocence under the
other accusations, the Primate could not protest against the king or
the judges being persuaded by the evidence, but he could, and did,
declare that, not having the evidence before him, he could not bring
himself to believe that the charges were true: but that did not touch
the question of nullity. Whoever deserved blame over the affair,
Cranmer did not.
Some years later Thomas Cromwell was struck down by his master. His
government had been in many respects a reign of terror. The populace
had no affection for him; the nobles hated him: the new men, even
those he had made, feared him; the king’s wrath was kindled against
him. The downfall of Wolsey had not been more universally acceptable.
But there was one man who lifted up his voice to plead for the fallen
minister--Thomas Cranmer, the time-server. As in the case of Anne
Boleyn, it was impossible for him to take up the cudgels in defence
of the man who had been less dangerous, perhaps, to him than to most
others--dangerous he was to every one, for he spared neither friend
nor foe--but who else would have dared, or ever did dare, to appeal to
Henry in the day of his wrath?
It was not Cranmer who directed the course of the Reformation under
Henry. The breach with Rome in all its completeness was devised and
carried out without aid from him, unless the suggestion of taking the
opinion of the Universities on the divorce is to be counted as aid.
Before the king had ever heard of Cranmer, Gardiner had told Clement
in plain terms that if he refused to entertain the English king’s
wishes England would repudiate his jurisdiction altogether. The great
majority of the bishops were no friends to the Papal claims, though
some of them would have taken a different line if they had not been
too late in discovering that the king meant to impose his own yoke
instead of the Pope’s: and the same thing might be said of Convocation
generally. Gardiner and Stokesley, the most persistent of Cranmer’s
antagonists, had been foremost in supporting the king against the
Pope. The clergy had writhed and resisted when the attack was turned
against themselves by the “Supplication against the Ordinaries,” but
they had been forced to surrender and make their “Submission” while
Warham was still Archbishop and Cranmer was engaged in other matters.
Even after he became Primate Cranmer had no actual hand or voice in
the great despoiling measures which accompanied the dissolution of the
monasteries; while the downfall of the monastic system in itself was
probably not unwelcome to the bulk of the secular clergy, between whom
and the regulars there was constant friction and jealousy.
In this connexion, however, while Cranmer, like Gardiner and the rest,
neither aided nor hindered Cromwell’s work, it ought to stand to his
eternal credit that he was almost alone in protesting, not against the
spoliation itself--practically no one seems to have ventured to do
that--but against the misuse of the wealth which thus changed hands. He
wrote to Cromwell emphatically expressing his grief and disappointment
that those funds were not appropriated to education--still accounted
one of the primary functions of the Church. Had the course which he
urged been followed there would have been little possibility of saying
that the Church was robbed. But Cromwell and his master had other
uses for the spoils. It is remarkable, too, that when educational
establishments were endowed Cranmer made a vigorous stand on behalf of
humble scholars against those who would have confined their benefits to
the sons of the well-to-do.
So far, however, as concerned matters of doctrine and practice the
Archbishop exercised some influence. His sojourn in Germany had not
made him a Lutheran, but it had inclined him to give favourable
consideration to the opinions of sober reformers on the Continent.
Viewing the Papacy as the enemy, he was always sanguine of the
possibility that a common standard of doctrine might be formulated in
consultation with the Protestant leaders; and such an agreement was a
pet project of his, the theological counterpart of Cromwell’s political
league with the Lutherans. Henry, however, looked askance on both
schemes, and the Archbishop’s efforts were doomed to disappointment.
Anxious as Cranmer was for a union of the opponents of Papacy,
there were many disputable points on which his own judgment had not
crystallised. In the matter, however, on which he really laid most
stress he got his way. An English Bible which all men might read was
the desire of his heart, and that was the one innovation of first-rate
importance to which Henry acceded. The first Convocation over which he
presided petitioned for a commission to prepare such a volume, and the
petition was granted. The Commission itself was ineffective enough;
some of the members, like Stokesley, desired only to obstruct the
work as far as in them lay. But the principle was conceded, and the
Commission was made superfluous by the appearance of Coverdale’s and
“Matthew’s” versions. There is no doubt at all that the main credit is
due to Cranmer, though his efforts would have been vain enough without
the powerful support of Cromwell. A kindred concession to Cranmer’s
enthusiasm for the English language was the authorisation, in Henry’s
later years, of an English Litany.
When John Frith affirmed the proposition that a correct belief on the
subject of the Eucharist could not be essential to salvation, there
were few, if any, of his contemporaries who did not regard him as
an anarchist in religion. But the subject of the Eucharist was only
one among many as to which men were in a state of great uncertainty
concerning the belief which should be regarded as correct. A standard
was wanted; it might be rigid, or it might be elastic. Given a standard
fixed by authority, no one was prepared as yet to admit that the
individual was at liberty to set up a different standard for himself:
no one doubted that the lack of an authoritative standard was an
evil. Hence arose the efforts in Henry’s reign to evolve acceptable
formularies, which should define what must be acknowledged as true
doctrines.