CHAPTER XVII.

ANNE OF CLEVES, AND THE FALL OF CROMWELL.

[Sidenote: Increasing impatience of the country for the king's

marriage.]

The king's marriage could not be longer delayed. Almost three years had

been wasted in fruitless negotiations, and the state of his health

threatened, more and more clearly, that his life would not be prolonged

to any advanced period. The death of the Duke of Richmond[511] was a

fresh evidence of the absence of vital stamina in Henry's male children;

and the anxious and impatient people saw as yet but a single fragile

life between the country and a disputed succession. The disloyal

Romanists alone desired to throw obstacles between the king and a fresh

connexion--alone calumniated his motives, and looked forward hopefully

to the possible and probable confusion.

[Sidenote: The recommendation of Anne of Cleaves.]

Among the ladies who had been considered suitable to take the place of

Queen Jane, the name had been mentioned, with no especial commendation,

of Anne, daughter of the Duke of Cleves, and sister-in-law of the

Elector of Saxony. She had been set aside in favour of the Duchess of

Milan; but, all hopes in this quarter having been abruptly and

ungraciously terminated, Cromwell once more turned his eyes towards a

connexion which, more than any other, would make the Emperor repent of

his discourtesy--and would further at the same time the great object

which the condition of Europe now, more than ever, showed him to be

necessary--a league of all nations of the Teutonic race in defence of

the Reformation. A marriage between the king and a German Protestant

princess would put a final end to Anglo-Imperial trifling; and,

committing England to a definite policy abroad, it would neutralize at

home the efforts of the framers of the Six Articles, and compel the

king, whether he desired it or not, to return to a toleration of

Lutheran opinions and Lutheran practices.

[Sidenote: The opportunity favourable to a Protestant connexion.]

[Sidenote: Prorogation of parliament.]

[Sidenote: Supposed pre-contract between Anne of Cleves and a Count of

Lorraine.]

[Sidenote: Her appearance and accomplishments.]

[Sidenote: Cromwell neglects a warning.]

[Sidenote: Her portrait taken by Holbein.]

[Sidenote: Barnes goes as commissioner into Germany.]

[Sidenote: The persecution in England ceases.]

The opportunity of urging such an alliance on Henry was more than

favourable. He had been deceived, insulted, and menaced by the Emperor;

his articles of union had been converted by the bishops into articles of

a vindictive persecution; and the Anglicans, in their indiscreet

animosity, had betrayed their true tendencies, and had shown how little,

in a life-and-death struggle with the Papacy, he could depend upon their

lukewarm zeal for independence. Affecting only to persecute heterodoxy,

they had extended their vengeance to every advocate for freedom, to

every enemy of ecclesiastical exemptions and profitable superstitions;

and the king, disappointed and exasperated, was in a humour, while

snatching their victims from their grasp, to consent to a step which

would undo their victory in parliament. The occasion was not allowed to

cool. Parliament was prorogued on the 11th of May, with an intimation

from the crown that the religious question was not to be regarded as

finally settled.[512] The treaty with Cleves was so far advanced on the

17th of July that Lord Hertford[513] was able to congratulate Cromwell

on the consent of Anne's brother and mother.[514] The lady had been

previously intended for a son of a Duke of Lorraine; and Henry, whom

experience had made anxious, was alarmed at the name of a

"pre-contract." But Dr. Wotton, who was sent over to arrange the

preliminaries, and was instructed to see the difficulty cleared, was

informed and believed that the engagement had never advanced to a form

which brought with it legal obligations, and that Anne was at liberty to

marry wherever she pleased.[515] Of her personal attractions Wotton

reported vaguely. He said that she had been well brought up; but ladies

of rank in Germany were not usually taught accomplishments. She could

speak no language except her own, nor could she play on any instrument.

He supposed, however, that she would be able to learn English in no long

time; and he comforted the king by assuring him that at least she had

no taste for "the heavy-headed revels" of her countrymen.[516] Wotton

could not be accused of having lent himself to a deception as to the

lady's recommendations. It would have been well for Cromwell if he too

had been equally scrupulous. He had been warned beforehand of an

unattractiveness, so great as to have overcome the spontaneous belief in

the beauty of royal ladies;[517] but, intent upon the success of his

policy, he disregarded information which his conduct proves him to have

partially believed. Holbein was despatched to take the princess's

picture; and Holbein's inimitable skill would not have failed so wholly

in conveying a true impression of the original if he had not received an

intimation that an agreeable portrait was expected of him; while, as

soon as it was brought into England, Cromwell's agents praised to the

king "her features, beauty, and princely proportions," and assured him

that the resemblance was perfect.[518] The German commission was as

expeditious as the Spanish had been dilatory. To allay any uneasiness

which might remain with respect to the Six Articles, and to furnish a

convincing evidence of the toleration which was practised, Dr. Barnes

was sent over as one of the English representatives; and he carried with

him the comforting assurance that the persecution had been terminated,

and that the Gospel had free way. His assertions were afterwards

confirmed by unsuspicious and independent evidence. "There is no

persecution," wrote a Protestant in London, a few months later, to

Bullinger. "The Word is powerfully preached. Books of every kind may

safely be exposed to sale."[519] "Good pastors," wrote another, "are

freely preaching the truth, nor has any notice been taken of them on

account of the articles."[520] Even the Elector of Saxony, jealous and

distrustful as he had ever been of Henry, was so far satisfied as to

write to him that he understood "the sharpness of the decree of the Six

Articles to be modified by the wisdom and moderation of his Highness,

and the execution of it not put in use."[521]

[Sidenote: Cromwell's dangerous game.]

[Sidenote: His attitude towards the peers,]

All promised well; but it is not to be supposed that Cromwell was

allowed without resistance to paralyse a measure which had been carried

by an almost unanimous parliament. More than half the Privy Council, the

Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Bishops of Winchester, Durham, and

Chichester, were openly and violently opposed to him. The House of Lords

and the country gentlemen, baffled, as it seemed to them, by his

treachery (for he had professed to go along with their statute while it

was under discussion), maintained an attitude of sullen menace or open

resistance. If the laws against the heretics might not be put in force,

they would lend no help to execute the laws against the Romanists.[522]

They despised Cromwell's injunctions, though supported by orders from

the crown. They would not acknowledge so much as the receipt of his

letters. He was playing a critical and most dangerous game, in which he

must triumph or be annihilated. The king warned him repeatedly to be

cautious;[523] but the terms on which he had placed himself with the

nobility had perhaps passed the point where caution could have been of

use. He answered haughtiness by haughtiness: and he left his fate to the

chances of fortune, careless what it might be, if only he could

accomplish his work while life and power remained to him. One

illustration of his relation with the temporal peers shall be given in

this place, conveying, as it does, other allusions also, the drift of

which is painfully intelligible. The following letter is written in

Cromwell's own hand. The address is lost, but the rank of the person or

persons to whom it was sent is apparent from the contents:--

[Sidenote: Who, to his Majesty's marvel, persist in maintaining the

Papistical sect.]

"After my right hearty commendations, the King's Highness, being

informed that there be two priests in your town, called Sir William

Winstanley, which is now in ward, the other called Sir William

Richardson, otherwise Good Sir William, hath commanded me to signify to

you that, upon the receipt hereof, you shall send both the said priests

hither as prisoners in assured custody. His Grace cannot a little marvel

to hear of the Papistical faction that is maintained in that town, and

by you chiefly that are of his Grace's council. Surely his Majesty

thinketh that you have little respect either to him, or to his laws, or

to the good order of that town, which so little regard him in a matter

of so great weight, which, also, his Highness hath so much to heart; and

willed me plainly to say to you all and every of you, that in case he

shall perceive from henceforth any such abuses suffered or winked at as

have been hitherto, in manner in contempt of his most royal estate, his

Highness will put others in the best of your rooms that so offend him,

by whom he will be better served. It is thought against all reason that

the prayers of women, and their fond flickerings, should move any of you

to do that thing that should in anywise displease your prince and

sovereign lord, or offend his just laws. And, if you shall think any

extremity in this writing, you must thank yourselves that have procured

it; for neither of yourselves have you regarded these matters, nor

answered to many of my letters, written for like purposes and upon like

occasions: wherein, though I have not made any accusation, yet, being in

the place for these things that I am, I have thought you did me therein

too much injury, and such as I am assured his Highness, knowing it,

would not have taken it in good part. But this matter needeth no

aggravation, ne I have done anything in it more than hath been by his

Majesty thought meet, percase not so much; and thus heartily fare you

well.

"Your Lordship's assured

"THOMAS CROMWELL."[524]

[Sidenote: A breach begins to open between the king and the minister.]

[Sidenote: Increasing expenses of the government.]

[Sidenote: Cromwell prepares for his fall.]

[Sidenote: His personal expenditure large, and the sources of his income

exceptionable.]

Between the minister and the king the points of difference were large

and increasing. The conduct which had earned for Cromwell the hatred or

the immense majority of the people, could not but at times have been

regarded disapprovingly by a person who shared so deeply as Henry in the

English conservative spirit; while Cromwell, again, was lavish in his

expenditure; and the outlay upon the fleet and the Irish army, the cost

of suppression of the insurrection, and of the defences of the coast,

at once vast and unusual, were not the less irritating because they

could not be denied to be necessary. A spirit of economy in the reaction

from his youthful extravagance, was growing over Henry with his

advancing years; he could not reconcile himself to a profusion to which,

even with the addition of the Church lands, his resources were

altogether unequal, without trespassing on his subjects' purses; and the

conservative faction in the council took advantage of his ill humour to

whisper that the fault was in the carelessness, the waste, and the

corruption of the privy seal. Cromwell knew it well.[525] Two years

previously he had received full warning that they were on the watch to

take advantage of any momentary displeasure against him in the king.

They were not likely to have been conciliated subsequently by the deaths

of the Marquis of Exeter and Lord Montague, for which he personally was

held responsible; and he prepared for the fate which he foresaw, in

making settlements on his servants, that they might not suffer by his

attainder.[526] The noble lords possessed, undoubtedly, one serious

advantage against him. His own expenses were as profuse as the expenses

of the state under his management. His agents were spread over Europe.

He bought his information anywhere, and at any cost; and secret-service

money for such purposes he must have provided, like his successor in the

same policy, Sir Francis Walsingham, from his own resources. As a

self-raised statesman, he had inherited nothing. His position as a

nobleman was to be maintained; and it was maintained so liberally, that

two hundred poor were every day supplied with food at his gate. The

salaries of his offices and the rents of such estates as the king had

given to him were inadequate for such irregular necessities. In

Cromwell, the questionable practice of most great men of his time--the

practice of receiving pensions and presents for general support and

patronage--was carried to an extent which even then, perhaps, appeared

excessive. It is evident, from his whole correspondence, that he

received as profusely as he spent. We trace in him no such ambitious

splendour as he had seen in Wolsey. He was contented with the moderate

maintenance of a nobleman's establishment. But power was essential to

him; and a power like that which Cromwell wielded required resources

which he obtained only by exposing his reputation while alive, and his

good name in history, to not unmerited blame.

[Sidenote: An attempt to destroy Gardiner.]

[Sidenote: Gardiner escapes;]

[Sidenote: But, with the Bishop of Chichester, is dismissed from the

Privy Council.]

[Sidenote: Cromwell's position is not benefited, however.]

Weighted as he was with faults, which his high purposes but partially

excuse, he fought his battle bravely--alone--against the world. The

German marriage did not pass without a struggle at the council board.

Cromwell had long recognised his strongest and most dangerous enemy in

the person of Stephen Gardiner. So much he dreaded the subtle bishop,

that he had made an effort once to entangle him under the Supremacy

Act;[527] but Gardiner had glided under the shadow of the act, and had

escaped its grasp. Smooth, treacherous, and plausible, he had held his

way along the outer edge of the permitted course, never committing

himself, commanding the sympathy of English conservatism, the patron of

those suspected of Romanism on one side, as Cromwell was the patron of

heretics; but self-possessed and clear-headed, watching the times,

knowing that the reaction must have its day at last, and only careful to

avoid the precipitancy, in future, into which he had blundered after the

Six Articles Bill. His rival's counter-move had checked him, but he

waited his opportunity; and when Barnes was sent as commissioner into

Germany, Gardiner challenged openly before the council the appointment,

for such a purpose, of a man who was "defamed of heresy." He was

supported, apparently, by the Bishop of Chichester, or the latter

ventured to thwart the privy seal in some other manner. Cromwell for the

moment was strong enough to bear his opponents down. They were both

dismissed from the Privy Council.[528] But this arbitrary act was

treated as a breach of the tacit compact by which the opposing parties

endured each other's presence. If the Bishop of Durham's chaplain spoke

the truth, an attempt was made, in which even Lord Southampton bore a

share, to bring Tunstall forward in Gardiner's place.[529] And though

this scheme failed, through the caution of the principal persons

interested, the grievances remained, embittered by a forced submission:

a fresh debt had been contracted, bearing interest till it was paid.

[Sidenote: Protestant imprudence.]

[Sidenote: Persecution of a Catholic preacher in London,]

As great, or a greater, danger embarrassed Cromwell from the folly of

his friends. So long as the tide was in their favour, the Protestants

indulged in insolent excesses, which provoked, and almost justified the

anger with which they were regarded. Hitherto they had held a monopoly

of popular preaching. Tradition and authority had been with the

Catholics: the rhetoric had been mainly with their adversaries. In the

summer the interest of London was suddenly excited on the other side by

a Catholic orator of extraordinary powers, a Dr. Watts, unknown before

or after this particular crisis, but for the moment a principal figure

on the stage. Watts attracted vast audiences; and the Protestants could

not endure a rival, and were as little able as their opponents to

content themselves with refuting him by argument. He was summoned, on a

charge of false doctrine, before the Archbishop of Canterbury; and even

moderate persons were scandalized when they saw Barnes sitting by the

side of Cranmer as assessor in a cause of heresy.[530] It appeared, and

perhaps it was designed, as an insult--as a deliberately calculated

outrage. Ten thousand London citizens proposed to walk in procession to

Lambeth, to require the restoration of their teacher; and, although the

open demonstration was prevented by the City officers, an alderman took

charge of their petition, and offered, unless the preacher's offence was

high treason, to put in bail for him in the name of the

corporation.[531]

[Sidenote: Sept 17. In whose behalf the corporation interfere in vain.]

There were, perhaps, circumstances in the case beyond those which

appear; but, instead of listening to the request of the City, the

archbishop spirited away the preacher into Kent, and his friends

learned, from the boasts of their adversaries, that he was imprisoned

and ill used. He was attached, it seems, to the Victuallers' Company.

"There is no persecution," wrote a Protestant fanatic, "except of the

Victuallers; of which sect a certain impostor of the name of Watts,

formerly of the order of wry-necked cattle, is now holding forth, oh,

shame! in the stocks at Canterbury Bridewell, having been accustomed to

mouth elsewhere against the Gospel."[532]

[Sidenote: Charles V. endeavours to prevent the German marriage.]

While England was thus fermenting towards a second crisis, the German

marriage was creating no less anxiety on the Continent. As it was

Cromwell's chief object to unite England with the Lutherans, so was

Charles V. anxious above all things to keep them separate; and no sooner

was he aware that the Duke of Cleves had consented to give his sister to

Henry than he renewed his offer of the Duchess of Milan. The reply was a

cold and peremptory refusal;[533] and the Emperor seeing that the

English government would not be again trifled with, determined to repair

into Flanders, in order to be at hand, should important movements take

place in Germany.[534] To give menace and significance to his journey,

he resolved, if possible, to pass through France on his way, and in a

manner so unformal and confidential as, perhaps, might contribute

towards substantiating his relations with Francis, or, at least, might

give the world the impression of their entire cordiality.

[Sidenote: He proposes a visit to Paris.]

[Sidenote: Reginald Pole submits a paper to the Pope on the condition of

England.]

[Sidenote: France and Spain are at last united. Let them proclaim the

king a public enemy.]

[Sidenote: Alarm felt in England.]

The proposal of a visit from the Emperor, when made known at Paris, was

met with a warm and instant assent; and many were the speculations to

which an affair so unexpected gave occasion in Europe. But the minds of

men were not long at a loss, and Henry's intended marriage was soon

accepted as an adequate explanation. The danger of a Protestant league

compelled the Catholic powers to bury their rivalries; and a legate was

despatched from Rome to be present at the meeting at Paris.[535]

Reginald Pole, ever on the watch for an opportunity to strike a blow at

his country, caught once more at the opening, and submitted a paper on

the condition of England to the Pope, showing how the occasion might be

improved. The Emperor was aware, Pole said, that England had been lost

to the Holy See in a Spanish quarrel, and for the sake of a Spanish

princess; and he knew himself to be bound in honour, however hitherto he

had made pretexts for delay, to assist in its recovery. His Imperial

oaths, the insults to his family, the ancient alliance between England

and the house of Burgundy, with his own promises so often repeated,

alike urged the same duty upon him; and now, at last, he was able to act

without difficulty. The rivalry between France and Spain had alone

encouraged Henry to defy the opinion of Europe. That rivalry was at an

end. The two sovereigns had only to unite in a joint remonstrance

against his conduct, with a threat that he should be declared a public

enemy if he persisted in his course, and his submission would be

instant. He would not dare to refuse. He could not trust his subjects:

they had risen once of themselves, and he knew too well the broken

promises, the treachery and cruelty with which he had restored order,

to risk their fury, should they receive effective support from abroad.

Without striking a single blow, the Catholic powers might achieve a

glorious triumph, and heal the gaping wound in the body of Christ.[536]

So wrote, and so thought the English traitor, with all human

probabilities in his favour, and only the Eternal Powers on the other

side. The same causes which filled Pole with hope struck terror into

weak and agitated hearts in the country which he was seeking to betray;

the wayfarers on the high-roads talked to each other in despair of the

impending ruin of the kingdom, left naked without an ally to the attacks

of the world.[537]

[Sidenote: Charles enters France.]

Spreading round him such panics and such expectations, the Emperor

entered France almost simultaneously with the departure of Anne of

Cleves from her mother's side to the shores of England. Pity that, in

the game of diplomacy, statesmen are not compelled to use their own

persons for their counters! are not forbidden to cast on others the

burden of their own failures!

[Sidenote: He is received with splendid courtesy,]

[Sidenote: And brings in his train an English traitor named Brancetor.]

Francis, in order to show Charles the highest courtesy, despatched the

constable Montmorency, with the Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, to

Bayonne, and offered, if the Emperor distrusted him, that his sons

should be detained as pledges for his good faith. Charles would not be

outdone in generosity; when he gave his confidence he gave it without

reserve; and, without accepting the security, he crossed the frontier,

attended only by his personal train, and made his way to the capital,

with the two princes at his side, through a succession of magnificent

entertainments. On the 1st of January he entered Paris, where he was to

remain for a week; and Henry, at once taking the initiative, made an

opportunity to force him, if possible, to a declaration of his

intentions. Attached to the Imperial household was a Welshman named

Brancetor, uncle of "young Rice," who had been executed for a conspiracy

against Henry's life in 1531. This man, having been originally obliged

to leave England for debt, had contrived, while on the Continent, by

assiduity of treason, to assume the more interesting character of a

political refugee. He had attached himself to Pole and to Pole's

fortunes; he had exerted himself industriously in Spain in persuading

English subjects to violate their allegiance; and in the parliament of

the previous spring he had been rewarded by the distinction of a place

in the list of attainted traitors.

[Sidenote: Brancetor is taken by the French police, in compliance with a

demand of Sir Thomas Wyatt.]

Analogous occupations had brought him to Paris; and, in conformity with

treaties, Henry instructed Sir Thomas Wyatt, who was then in England, to

repair to the French court, and require his extradition. Wyatt

imprudently affected to consider that the affair belonged rather to the

police than to the government, and applied to the constable for

Brancetor's arrest. Montmorency was unaware of the man's connexion with

the Emperor. Wyatt informed him merely that an English subject who had

robbed his master, and had afterwards conspired against the king, was in

Paris, and requested his apprehension. He had been watched to his

lodgings by a spy; and the provost-marshal was placed without difficulty

at Wyatt's disposal, and was directed to attend him.

[Sidenote: Brancetor appeals to the Emperor.]

The police surrounded the house where Brancetor was to be found. It was

night. The English minister entered, and found his man writing at a

table. "I told him," Wyatt reported in his account of the story, "that,

since he would not come to visit me, I was come to seek him. His colour

changed as soon as he heard my voice; and with that came in the provost,

and set hand on him. I reached to the letters that he was writing, but

he caught them afore me, and flung them backwards into the fire. I

overthrew him, and cracked them out; but the provost got them."

Brancetor upon this declared himself the Emperor's servant. He made no

attempt to escape, but charged the officer, "that his writings and

himself should be delivered into the Emperor's hands." He took a number

of papers from his pocket, which he placed in the provost's charge; and

the latter not daring to act further in such a matter without further

instructions, left a guard in the room with Wyatt and the prisoner, and

went to make a report to the chancellor. "In the mean time," says Wyatt,

"I used all the soberness I could with Brancetor, advising him to submit

himself to your Majesty; but he made the Emperor his master, and seemed

to regard nothing else. Once he told me he had heard me oft times say

that kings have long hands; but God, quoth he, hath longer. I asked him

what length he thought that would make when God's and kings' hands were

joined together; but he assured himself of the Emperor." Presently the

provost returned, and said that Brancetor was to remain in his charge

till the morning, when Wyatt would hear further. Nothing more could be

done with the provost; and after breakfast Wyatt had an interview with

Cardinal Granvelle and the chancellor. The treaties were plain; a clause

stated in the clearest language that neither France, nor Spain, nor

England should give shelter to each other's traitors; but such a case as

Brancetor's had as clearly not been anticipated when they were drawn;

and the matter was referred to the Emperor.

[Sidenote: Charles grants an audience to Wyatt.]

[Sidenote: He will defend his followers, English or Spanish, treaty or

no treaty.]

Charles made no difficulty in granting an audience, which he seemed

rather to court. He was extremely angry. The man had been in his

service, he said, for years; and it was ill done to arrest a member of

his household without paying him even the courtesy of a first

application on the subject. The English government could scarcely be

serious in expecting that he would sacrifice an old attendant in any

such manner. Wyatt answered sturdily that Brancetor was his master's

subject. There was clear proof, he could vouch for it on his own

knowledge, that the man committed treason in Spain; and he again

insisted on the treaties. The Emperor cared nothing for treaties. Treaty

or no treaty, a servant of his own should pass free; "and if he was in

the Tower of London," he said, "he would never consent so to charge his

honour and conscience." Brancetor had come to Paris under his

protection; and the French government would never do him the dishonour

of permitting the seizure of one of his personal train.

[Sidenote: Wyatt complains of the treatment of English subjects by the

Inquisition.]

He was so displeased, and there was so much truth in what he said, that

Wyatt durst not press him further; but opened ground again with a

complaint which he had been instructed also to make, of the ill usage of

Englishmen in Spain by the Inquisition. Charles again flashed up with

imperious vehemence. "In a loud voice," he replied, "that the authority

of the Inquisition depended not upon him. It had been established in his

realm and countries for good consideration, and such as he would not

break--no, not for his grandame."

It was unreasonable, Wyatt replied, to punish men merely for their want

of allegiance to Rome. They were no heretics, sacramentaries,

Anabaptists. They held the Catholic faith as truly as any man.

[Sidenote: Charles refuses t o interfere.]

"The king is of one opinion," Charles replied, "and I am of another. If

your merchants come with novelties, I can not let the Inquisition. This

is a thing that toucheth our faith."

"What," Wyatt said, "the primacy of the Bishop of Rome!"

"Yea, marry," the Emperor answered, "shall we now come to dispute of

_tibi dabo claves_. I would not alter my Inquisition. No; if I thought

they would be negligent in their office, I would put them out, and put

others in their rooms."

All this was uttered with extraordinary passion and violence. Charles

had wholly lost his self-command. Wyatt went on to say that the Spanish

preached slanders against England, and against the king especially, in

their pulpits.

"As to that," said the Emperor, "preachers will speak against myself

whenever there is cause. That cannot be let. Kings be not kings of

tongues; and if men give cause to be spoken of, they will be spoken of."

[Sidenote: The French court betrays confidence.]

He promised at last, with rather more calmness, to inquire into the

treatment of the merchants, if proper particulars were supplied to

him.[538] If alarm was really felt in the English court at the Emperor's

presence in Paris, Wyatt's report of this interview was not reassuring.

Still less satisfactory was an intimation, which was not long in

reaching England, that Francis, or one of his ministers, had betrayed to

Charles a private article in the treaty of Calais, in 1532. Anticipating

at this time a war with Spain, Henry had suggested, and Francis had

acquiesced in a proposal, should Charles attack them, for a partition of

the Flemish provinces. The opportunity of this visit was chosen by the

French to give an evidence of unmistakeable goodwill in revealing an

exasperating secret.

Keeping these transactions so ominous of evil before our minds, let us

now return to the events which were simultaneously taking place in

England.

[Sidenote: December 11. Anne of Cleves arrives at Calais,]

[Sidenote: Where she remains weather-bound for a fortnight,]

[Sidenote: And learns to play at cards.]

On the 11th of December the Lady Anne of Cleves was conducted, under a

German escort, to Calais, where Lord Southampton and four hundred

English noblemen and gentlemen were waiting to receive her, and conduct

her to her future country. The "Lion" and the "Sweepstake" were in the

harbour--the ships which two years before had fought the Flemings in the

Downs. As she rode into the town the vessels' yards were manned, the

rigging was decorated with flags, and a salute of a hundred and fifty

guns was fired in her honour. By her expectant subjects she was

splendidly welcomed; but the weather was wild; fifteen days elapsed

before she could cross with ease and expedition; and meanwhile she was

left to the entertainment of the lords. Southampton, in despair at her

absence of accomplishments, taught her, as a last resource, to play at

cards. Meantime, he wrote to advertise the king of her arrival, and

thinking, as he afterwards said, that he must make the best of a matter

which it had become too late to remedy, he repeated the praises which

had been uttered so loudly by others of the lady's appearance. He

trusted that, "after all the debating, the success would be to the

consolation of his Majesty, and the weal of his subjects and

realm."[539]

[Sidenote: Dec. 27. She lands in England.]

[Sidenote: Dec 29. Monday. She is received by Cranmer at Canterbury.]

[Sidenote: Wednesday Dec. 31. The king comes to meet her at Rochester.]

At length, on Saturday, December the 27th, as the winter twilight was

closing into night, the intended Queen of England set her foot upon the

shore, under the walls of Deal Castle. The cannon freshly mounted,

flashed their welcome through the darkness; the Duke and Duchess of

Suffolk had waited in the fortress for her landing, and the same night

conducted her to Dover. Here she rested during Sunday. The next morning

she went on, in a storm, to Canterbury; and on Barham Down stood

Cranmer, with five other bishops, in the wind and the rain, to welcome,

as they fondly hoped, the enchantress who would break the spell of the

Six Articles. She was entertained for the evening at Saint Augustine's.

Tuesday she was at Sittingbourne. On New-Year's Eve she reached

Rochester, to which the king was already hastening for the first sight

of the lady, the fame of whose charms had been sounded in his ears so

loudly. He came down in private, attended only by Sir Anthony Brown, the

master of the horse. The interview, agitating under all circumstances,

would be made additionally awkward from the fact that neither the king

nor his bride could understand each other's language. He had brought

with him, therefore, "a little present," a graceful gift of some value,

to soften the embarrassment and conciliate at first sight the lovely

being into whose presence he was to be introduced. The visit was meant

for a surprise; the king's appearance at her lodgings was the first

intimation of his intention; and the master of the horse was sent in to

announce his arrival and request permission for his Highness to present

himself.

[Sidenote: Sensations of the master of the horse on his first

interview.]

[Sidenote: The king is "quite discouraged and amazed."]

[Sidenote: He retreats hastily to Greenwich,]

[Sidenote: And laments the fate of princes.]

Sir Anthony, aware of the nature of Henry's expectations, entered the

room where Anne was sitting. He described his sensations on the

unlooked-for spectacle which awaited him in moderate language, when he

said, "that he was never more dismayed in his life, lamenting in his

heart to see the lady so unlike that she was reported."[540] The graces

of Anne of Cleves were moral only, not intellectual, and not personal.

She was simple, quiet, modest, sensible, and conscientious; but her

beauty existed only in the imagination of the painter. Her presence was

ladylike; but her complexion was thick and dark: her features were

coarse; her figure large, loose, and corpulent. The required permission

was given. The king entered. His heart sank; his presence of mind

forsook him; he was "suddenly quite discouraged and amazed" at the

prospect which was opened before him. He forgot his present; he almost

forgot his courtesy. He did not stay in the room "to speak twenty

words." He would not even stay in Rochester. "Very sad and pensive,"

says Brown, he entered his barge and hurried back to Greenwich, anxious

only to escape, while escape was possible, from the unwelcome

neighbourhood. Unwilling to marry at all, he had yielded only to the

pressure of a general desire. He had been deceived by untrue

representations, and had permitted a foreign princess to be brought into

the realm; and now, as fastidious in his tastes as he was often little

scrupulous in his expression of them, he found himself on the edge of a

connexion the very thought of which was revolting.[541] It was a cruel

fortune which imposed on Henry VIII., in addition to his other burdens,

the labour of finding heirs to strengthen the succession. He "lamented

the fate of princes to be in matters of marriage of far worse sort than

the condition of poor men.'

"Princes take," he said, "as is brought them by others, and poor men be

commonly at their own choice."[542]

[Sidenote: He complains of his disappointment to Cromwell.]

Cromwell, who knew better than others knew the true nature of the king's

adventure, was waiting nervously at Greenwich for the result of the

experiment. He presented himself on the king's appearance, and asked him

"how he liked the Lady Anne." The abrupt answer confirmed his fears.

"Nothing so well as she was spoken of," the king said. "If I had known

as much before as I know now, she should never have come into the

realm." "But what remedy?" he added, in despondency.[543] The German

alliance was already shaking at its base: the court was agitated and

alarmed; the king was miserable. Cromwell, to whom the blame was mainly

due, endeavoured for a moment to shrink from his responsibility, and

accused Southampton of having encouraged false hopes in his letters from

Calais. Southampton answered fairly that the fault did not rest with

him. He had been sent to bring the queen into England, and it was not

his place to "dispraise her appearance." "The matter being so far gone,"

he had supposed his duty was to make the best of it.[544]

[Sidenote: January 2. Friday.]

[Sidenote: Saturday, January 3. Arrival of the Lady Anne at the palace.]

[Sidenote: Henry endeavours to extricate himself,]

[Sidenote: Sunday. January 4.]

[Sidenote: And requires an explanation of the pre-contract]

Among these recriminations passed the night of Friday, while Charles V.

was just commencing his triumphal progress through France. The day

following, the innocent occasion of the confusion came on to Greenwich.

The marriage had been arranged for the Sunday after. The prospects were

altogether dark, and closer inspection confirmed the worst

apprehensions. The ladies of the court were no less shocked than their

husbands. The unfortunate princess was not only unsightly, but she had

"displeasant airs" about her; and Lady Brown imparted to Sir Anthony

"how she saw in the queen such fashions, and manner of bringing up so

gross, that she thought the king would never love her." Henry met her on

the stairs when her barge arrived. He conducted her to her apartments,

and on the way Cromwell saw her with his own eyes. The sovereign and the

minister then retired together, and the just displeasure became visible.

"How say you, my lord?" the king said. "Is it not as I told you? Say

what they will, she is nothing fair. The personage is well and seemly,

but nothing else." Cromwell attempted faintly to soothe him by

suggesting that she had "a queenly manner." The king agreed to

that;[545] but the recommendation was insufficient to overcome the

repugnance which he had conceived; and he could resolve on nothing. A

frail fibre of hope offered itself in the story of the pre-contract with

the Count of Lorraine. Henry caught at it to postpone the marriage for

two days; and, on the Sunday morning he sent for the German suite who

had attended the princess, and requested to see the papers connected

with the Lorraine treaty. Astonished and unprepared, they requested time

to consider. The following morning they had an interview with the

council, when they stated that, never anticipating any such demand, they

could not possibly comply with it on the instant; but the engagement

had been nothing. The instrument which they had brought with them

declared the princess free from all ties whatever. If the king really

required the whole body of the documents, they would send to Cleves for

them; but, in the meantime, they trusted he would not refuse to accept

their solemn assurances.

[Sidenote: Monday, January 5.]

[Sidenote: He exhibits his reluctance to the lady, but in vain.]

[Sidenote: He must put his neck into the yoke,]

[Sidenote: And marries Tuesday, January 6]

Cromwell carried the answer to Henry; and it was miserably unwelcome. "I

have been ill-handled," he said. "If it were not that she is come so far

into England, and for fear of making a ruffle in the world, and _driving

her brother into the Emperor and French king's hands, now being

together_, I would never have her. But now it is too far gone; wherefore

I am sorry."[546] As a last pretext for hesitation, he sent to Anne

herself to desire a protest from her that she was free from contracts; a

proof of backwardness on the side of the king might, perhaps, provoke a

corresponding unwillingness. But the impassive constitution of the lady

would have been proof against a stronger hint. The protest was drawn and

signed with instant readiness. "Is there no remedy," Henry exclaimed,

"but that I must needs, against my will, put my neck into this yoke?"

There was none. It was inevitable. The conference at Paris lay before

him like a thunder-cloud. The divorce of Catherine and the crimes of

Anne Boleyn had already created sufficient scandal in Europe. At such a

moment he durst not pass an affront upon the Germans, which might drive

them also into a compromise with his other enemies. He gathered up his

resolution. As the thing was to be done, it might be done at once; delay

would not make the bitter dose less unpalatable; and the day remained

fixed for the date of its first postponement--Tuesday, the 6th of

January. As he was preparing for the sacrifice, he called Cromwell to

him in the chamber of presence: "My lord," he said openly, "if it were

not to satisfy the world and my realm, I would not do that I must do

this day for none earthly thing."

[Sidenote: His dislike increases to aversion, and his hope of children

is frustrated.]

The marriage was solemnized. A last chance remained to the Privy Seal

and to the eager prelates who had trembled in the storm on Barham Down,

that the affection which could not precede the ceremony might perhaps

follow it. But the tide had turned against the Reformers; and their

contrivances to stem the current were not of the sort which could be

allowed to prosper. Dislike was confirmed into rooted aversion. The

instinct with which the king recoiled from Anne settled into a defined

resolution. He was personally kind to her. His provocations did not

tempt him into discourtesy; but, although she shared his bed, necessity

and inclination alike limited the companionship to a form; and Henry

lamented to Cromwell, who had been the cause of the calamity, that

"surely he would never have any more children for the comfort of the

realm."[547]

[Sidenote: The results of the disappointment not immediately visible.]

[Sidenote: Theological controversy in London between Gardiner and the

Protestants,]

[Sidenote: Who are protected by Cromwell.]

The union of France and the Empire, which had obliged the accomplishment

of this unlucky connexion, meanwhile prevented, so long as it continued,

either an open _fracas_ or an alteration in the policy of the kingdom.

The relations of the king and queen were known only to a few of the

council. Cromwell continued in power, and the Protestants remained in

security. The excitement which had been created in London by the

persecution of Dr. Watts was kept alive by a controversy[548] between

the Bishop of Winchester and three of the Lutheran preachers: Dr.

Barnes, for ever unwisely prominent; the Vicar of Stepney, who had

shuffled over his recantation; and Garrett, the same who had been in

danger of the stake at Oxford for selling Testaments, and had since been

a chaplain of Latimer. It is difficult to exaggerate the audacity with

which the orators of the moving party trespassed on the patience of the

laity. The disputes, which had been slightly turned out of their channel

by the Six Articles, were running now on justification,--a sufficient

subject, however, to give scope for differences, and for the full

enunciation of the Lutheran gospel. The magistrates in the country

attempted to keep order and enforce the law; but, when they imprisoned a

heretic, they found themselves rebuked and menaced by the Privy Seal.

Their prison doors were opened, they were exposed to vexatious suits for

loss or injury to the property of the discharged offenders, and their

authority and persons were treated with disrespect and contumely.[549]

The Reformers had outshot their healthy growth. They required to be

toned down by renewed persecution into that good sense and severity of

mind without which religion is but as idle and unprofitable a folly as

worldly excitement.

[Gardiner preaches a Popish sermon at Paul's Cross.]

[Sidenote: Foolish insolence of Dr. Barnes.]

[Sidenote: Gardiner complains to the king.]

In London, on the first Sunday in Lent, the Bishop of Winchester

preached on the now prominent topic at Paul's Cross: "A very Popish

sermon," says Traheron, one of the English correspondents of Bullinger,

"and much to the discontent of the people."[550] To the discontent it

may have been of many, but not to the discontent of the ten thousand

citizens who had designed the procession to Lambeth. The Sunday

following, the same pulpit was occupied by Barnes, who, calling Gardiner

a fighting-cock, and himself another, challenged the bishop to trim his

spurs for a battle.[551] He taunted his adversary with concealed

Romanism. Like the judges at Fouquier Tinville's tribunal, whose test of

loyalty to the republic was the question what the accused had done to be

hanged on the restoration of the monarchy, Barnes said that, if he and

the Bishop of Winchester were at Rome together, much money would not

save his life, but for the bishop there was no fear--a little

entreatance would purchase favour enough for him.[552] From these

specimens we may conjecture the character of the sermon; and, from

Traheron's delight with it, we may gather equally the imprudent

exultation of the Protestants.[553] Gardiner complained to the king. He

had a fair cause, and was favourably listened to. Henry sent for Barnes,

and examined him in a private audience. The questions of the day were

opened. Merit, works, faith, free-will, grace of congruity, were each

discussed,--once mystic words of power, able, like the writing on the

seal of Solomon, to convulse the world, now mere innocent sounds, which

the languid but still eager lips of a dying controversy breathe in vain.

Barnes, too vain of his supposed abilities to understand the disposition

with which he was dealing, told the king, in an excess of unwisdom, that

he would submit himself to him.

[Sidenote: Interview between Barnes and Henry.]

[Sidenote: Barnes affects to recant.]

Henry was more than angry: "Yield not to me," he said; "I am a mortal

man." He rose as he spoke, and turning to the sacrament, which stood on

a private altar in the room, and taking off his bonnet,--"Yonder is the

Master of us all," he said; "yield in truth to Him; otherwise submit

yourself not to me." Barnes was commanded, with Garrett and Jerome, to

make a public acknowledgment of his errors; and to apologize especially

for his insolent language to Gardiner. It has been already seen how

Jerome could act in such a position. An admirer of these men, in

relating their conduct on the present occasion, declared, as if it was

something to their credit, "how gaily they handled the matter, both to

satisfy the recantation and also, in the same sermon, to utter out the

truth, that it might spread without let of the world."

Like giddy night-moths, they were flitting round the fire which would

soon devour them.

[Sidenote: Confident in the German alliance, the king provokes a quarrel

with the Emperor.]

[Sidenote: He instructs Wyatt to reproach Charles with ingratitude.]

In April, parliament was to meet--the same parliament which had passed

the Six Articles Bill with acclamation. It was to be seen in what temper

they would bear the suspension of their favourite measure. The bearing

of the parliament, was, however, for the moment, of comparative

indifference. The king and his ministers were occupied with other

matters too seriously to be able to attend it. A dispute had arisen

between the Emperor and the Duke of Cleves, on the duchy of Gueldres, to

which Charles threatened to assert his right by force; and, galling as

Henry found his marriage, the alliance in which it had involved him, its

only present recommendation, was too useful to be neglected. The

treatment of English residents in Spain, the open patronage of

Brancetor, and the haughty and even insolent language which had been

used to Wyatt, could not be passed over in silence, whatever might be

the consequences; and, with the support of Germany, he believed that he

might now, perhaps, repay the Emperor for the alarms and anxieties of

years. After staying a few days in Paris, Charles had gone on to

Brussels. On the receipt of Wyatt's despatch with the account of his

first interview, the king instructed him to require in reply the

immediate surrender of the English traitor; to insist that the

proceedings of the Inquisition should be redressed and punished; and to

signify, at the same time, that the English government desired to

mediate between himself and the king's brother-in-law. Nor was the

imperiousness of the message to be softened in the manner of delivery.

More than once Henry had implied that Charles was under obligations to

England for the Empire. Wyatt was instructed to allude pointedly to

these and other wounding memories, and particularly, and with marked

emphasis, to make use of the word "ingratitude." The object was,

perhaps, to show that Henry was not afraid of him; perhaps to express a

real indignation which there was no longer reason to conceal.

[Sidenote: Indignation of the Emperor.]

The directions were obeyed; and Wyatt's English haughtiness was likely

to have fulfilled them to the letter. The effect was magical. The

Emperor started, changed colour, hesitated, and then burst in anger. "It

is too much," he said, "to use the term ingrate to me. The inferior may

be ingrate to the greater. The term is scant sufferable between like."

Perhaps, he added, as Wyatt was speaking in a foreign language, he might

have used a word which he imperfectly comprehended. Wyatt assured him

placidly that there was no error: the word was in his instructions, and

its meaning perfectly understood. "The king took it so." "Kings'

opinions are not always the best," Charles replied. "I cannot tell,

sir," the ambassador answered, "what ye mean by that; but if ye think to

note the king my master of anything that should touch him, I assure you

he is a prince to give reason to God and the world sufficient in his

opinions." Leaving the word as it stood, he required an answer to the

material point.

[Sidenote: He will not surrender Brancetor.]

[Sidenote: If English merchants dislike the Inquisition, they had better

avoid Spain.]

[Sidenote: Henry makes overtures to Francis.]

[Sidenote: He accuses Charles of aiming at universal empire,]

[Sidenote: And suggests a coalition which may end in his capture and

imprisonment.]

If Henry was indifferent to a quarrel, the Emperor seemed to be equally

willing; Wyatt gathered from his manner, either that he was careless of

consequences, or that he desired to provoke the English to strike the

first blow. He answered as before, that Brancetor had committed no crime

that he knew of. If the King of England would be more explicit in his

accusations, he would consider them. His dispute with the Duke of Cleves

he intended to settle by himself, and would allow of no interference;

and as to the merchants, he had rather they should never visit his

countries at all, than visit them to carry thither their heresy.[554]

Irritation is a passion which it is seldom politic to excite; and a

message like that of Wyatt had been better undelivered, unless no doubt

existed of being able to support it by force. A fixed idea in Cromwell's

mind, which we trace in all his correspondence, was the impossibility of

a genuine coalition between Charles and Francis. Either misled by these

impressions, or deceived by rumours, Henry seems to have been acting,

not only in a reliance on the Germans, but in a belief that the

Emperor's visit to Paris had closed less agreeably than it had opened,

that the Milan quarrel had revived, and that the hasty partnership

already threatened a dissolution. Some expectations of the kind he had

unquestionably formed, for, on the arrival of Wyatt's letter with the

Emperor's answer, he despatched the Duke of Norfolk on a mission into

France, which, if successful, would have produced a singular revulsion

in Europe. Francis was to be asked frankly how the Italian question

stood. If the Emperor was dealing in good faith with him, or if he was

himself satisfied, nothing more need be desired; if, on the contrary, he

felt himself "hobbled with a vain hope," there was now an opportunity

for him to take fortune prisoner, to place his highest wishes within his

grasp, and revenge Pavia, and his own and his children's captivity. The

ingratitude story was to be repeated, with Charles's overbearing

indignation; redress for the open and iniquitous oppression of English

subjects had been absolutely refused; and the Emperor's manner could be

interpreted only as bearing out what had long been suspected of him,

that he "aspired to bring Christendom to a monarchy;" that "he thought

himself superior to all kings," and, "by little and little," would work

his way to universal empire. His insolence might be punished, and all

dangers of such a kind for ever terminated, at the present juncture. A

league was in process of formation, for mutual defence, between the King

of England, the Duke of Cleves, the Elector of Saxony, the Landgrave,

and other princes of the Empire. Let Francis join them, and "they would

have the Emperor in such a pitfall, that percase it might be their

chance to have him prisoner at their pleasure, his being so environed

with them, and having no way to start."[555]

[Sidenote: Henry's proposal is communicated to the Emperor.]

The temptation was so well adjusted to the temperament of Francis that

it seemed as if he felt an excuse necessary to explain his declining the

combination. The French chancellor told Norfolk that his master was

growing old, and that war had lost its charm for him. But, in fact, the

proposal was, based upon a blunder for which Cromwell's despair was

probably responsible. Francis, at the moment, was under the influence of

the Cardinal of Ferrara, who had come from Rome on a crusading

expedition; and, so far from then desiring to quarrel with Charles, he

simply communicated to him Henry's suggestions; while the Queen of

Navarre gave a warning to Norfolk that, if the Anglo-German league

assumed an organized form, it would be followed by an alliance as close

and as menacing between France and the Empire.[556]

[Sidenote: The Germans back out also,]

Cromwell had again failed; and another and a worse misadventure

followed. The German princes, for whose sake the Privy Seal had incurred

his present danger, had their own sense of prudence, and were reluctant

to quarrel with the Emperor, so long as it was possible to escape.

Experience had taught Charles the art of trifling with their credulity,

and he flattered them with a hope that from them he would accept a

mediation in behalf of the Duke of Cleves, which he had rejected so

scornfully when offered by England.

[Sidenote: And the foreign policy of Cromwell, as well as the domestic,

fails equally.]

[Sidenote: The Bishop of Chichester is sent to the Tower,]

[Sidenote: And is almost followed by Tunstall.]

Thus was Henry left alone, having been betrayed into an attitude which

he was unable to support, and deserted by the allies for whom he had

entangled himself in a marriage which he detested. Well might his

confidence have been shaken in the minister whose fortune and whose

sagacity had failed together. Driven forward by the necessity of success

or destruction, Cromwell was, at the same time, precipitating the crisis

in England. Gardiner, Tunstall, and Sampson the Bishop of Chichester,

were his three chief antagonists. In April Sampson was sent to the

Tower, on a charge of having relieved "certain traitorous persons" who

had denied the king's supremacy.[557] The two others, it is likely,

would soon have followed: the Bishop of Chichester accused them of

having been the cause of his own misconduct, to such extent as he

admitted himself to have erred;[558] and although Tunstall equivocated,

he at least would not have escaped imprisonment, had the Privy Seal

remained in power, if imprisonment had been the limit of his

sufferings.[559] To the eyes of the world, the destroyer of the

monasteries, the "hammer of the monks," remained absolute as ever. No

cloud, as yet, was visible in the clear sky of his prosperity, when the

moment came, he fell suddenly, as if struck by lightning, on the very

height and pinnacle of his power. If events had been long working

towards the catastrophe, it was none the less abrupt, surprising,

unlooked for.

[Sidenote: April 12. Parliament meets.]

[Sidenote: Cromwell opens the session with a speech on unity of

opinion.]

On the 12th of April, amidst failure abroad and increased discontent at

home, parliament assembled. After the ordinary address from the

chancellor, Cromwell rose to speak a few words on the state of the

kingdom.

"The King's Majesty," he said, "knowing that concord is the only sure

and true bond of security in the commonwealth, knowing that if the head

and all the members of the body corporate agree in one, there will be

wanting nothing to the perfect health of the state, has therefore

sought, prized, and desired concord beyond all other things. With no

little distress, therefore, he learns that there are certain persons who

make it their business to create strife and controversy; that in the

midst of the good seed tares also are growing up to choke the harvest.

The rashness and carnal license of some, the inveterate corruption and

obstinate superstition of others, have caused disputes which have done

hurt to the souls of pious Christians. The names of Papist and heretic

are bandied to and fro. The Holy Word of God, which his Highness, of his

great clemency, has permitted to be read in the vulgar tongue, for the

comfort and edification of his people this treasure of all sacred

things--is abused, and made a servant of errour or idolatry; and such is

the tumult of opinion, that his Highness ill knows how to bear it. His

purpose is to shew no favour to extremes on either side. He professes

the sincere faith of the Gospel, as becomes a Christian prince,

declining neither to the right hand nor to the left, but setting before

his eyes the pure Word of God as his only mark and guide. On this Word

his princely mind is fixed; on this Word he depends for his sole

support; and with all his might his Majesty will labour that errour

shall be taken away, and true doctrines be taught to his people,

modelled by the rule of the Gospel. Of forms, ceremonies, and traditions

he will have the reasonable use distinguished from the foolish and

idolatrous use. He will have all impiety, all superstition, abolished

and put away. And, finally, he will have his subjects cease from their

irreverent handling of God's book. Those who have offended against the

faith and the laws shall suffer the punishment by the laws appointed;

and his first and last prayer is for the prevailing of Christ--the

prevailing of the Word of Christ--the prevailing of the truth."[560]

[Sidenote: Cromwell is created Earl of Essex.]

[Sidenote: Permission granted to bequeath land by will.]

[Sidenote: Monks are released from the vow of poverty.]

[Sidenote: Reduction of the number of sanctuaries, and limitation of

their privileges.]

[Sidenote: Act for the maintenance of the navy.]

[Sidenote: May 3. Bill for a subsidy of four fifteenths and four

tenths.]

A general intimation of intentions, which being so stated every one

would approve, passed quietly, and the subject dropped. It is the

peculiarity of discourses on theological subjects, that they are

delivered and they are heard under an impression, both on the part of

the speaker and of his audience, that each is in possession of the only

reasonable and moderate truth; and so long as particulars are avoided,

moderation is praised, and all men consent to praise it--excess is

condemned, and all agree in the condemnation. Five days after, a public

mark of the king's approbation was bestowed on Cromwell, who was

created Earl of Essex; and the ordinary legislation commenced quietly.

The complaints against the statute of Uses were met by a measure which

silently divided the leading root of the feudal system. Persons holding

lands by military tenure were allowed to dispose of two-thirds in their

wills, as they pleased. Lands held under any other conditions might be

bequeathed absolutely, without condition or restriction.[561] To prevent

disputes on titles, and to clear such confusion of claims as had been

left remaining by the Uses Act, sixty years' possession of property was

declared sufficient to constitute a valid right; and no claim might be

pressed which rested on pretensions of an older date.[562] The Privy

Seal's hand is legible in several acts abridging ecclesiastical

privileges, and restoring monks, who had been dead in law, to some part

of their rights as human beings. The suppression of the religious houses

had covered England with vagrant priests, who, though pensioned, were

tempted, by idleness and immunity from punishment, into crimes. If

convicted of felony, and admitted "to their clergy," such persons were

in future to be burnt in the hand.[563] A bill in the preceding year had

relieved them from their vows of poverty; they were permitted to buy,

inherit, or otherwise occupy property. They were freed by dissolution

from obedience to their superiors, and the reflection naturally

followed, that the justice which had dispensed with two vows would

dispense with the third, and that a permission to marry, in spite of the

Six Articles, would soon necessarily follow. Further inroads were made

also upon the sanctuaries. Institutions which had worn so deep a groove

in the habits of men could not be at once put away; nor, while the

letter of the law continued so sanguinary, was it tolerable to remove

wholly the correctives which had checked its action, and provide no

substitute. The last objection was not perhaps considered a serious one;

but prejudice and instinct survived, as a safeguard of humanity. The

protection of sanctuary was withdrawn for the more flagrant felonies,

for murder, rape, robbery, arson, and sacrilege. Churches and

church-yards continued to protect inferior offenders; and seven

towns--Wells, Westminster, Manchester, Northampton, York, Derby, and

Launceston--retained the same privileges, until, finding that their

exemption only converted them into nests of crime, they petitioned of

themselves for desecration. Some other regulations were also introduced

into the system. Persons taking refuge in a church were allowed to

remain not longer than forty days; at the end of which they were to

abjure before the coroner and leave the country, or were to be consigned

for life to one of the specified towns, where they were to be daily

inspected by the governor, and if absent three days consecutively--no

very barbarous condition--were to forfeit their security.[564] An act

was passed for the better maintenance of the navy; and next, bringing

inevitable ill-will with it to the unpopular minister, appeared the

standard English grievance, a Money Bill. In the preceding session the

Duke of Norfolk had laid before the Lords a statement of the

extraordinary expenses which had been cast upon the Crown, and of the

inadequacy of the revenue.[565] Twelve months' notice had been given,

that the Houses might consider at their leisure the demand which was

likely to be made upon them. It appeared in a bill introduced on the 3d

of May, requiring a subsidy of four fifteenths and four tenths, the

payments to be spread over a period of four years.[566]

[Sidenote: Expenses incurred in the defence of the realm.]

The occasion of a demand of money was always carefully stated: the

preamble set forth that the country had prospered, had lived in wealth,

comfort, and peace under the king, for thirty-one years. His Highness,

in the wisdom which God had given him, had brought his subjects out of

blindness and ignorance to the knowledge of God and his holy Word. He

had shaken off the usurpations of the Bishop of Rome, by whose subtle

devices large sums had been annually drained out of the realm. But in

doing this he had been forced to contend against insurrections at home

and the peril of invasion from the powers of the Continent. He had built

a navy and furnished it. He had raised fortresses, laid out harbours,

established permanent garrisons in dangerous places, with arsenals for

arms and all kinds of military stores. Ireland after an arduous struggle

was at length reduced to obedience; but the conquest was maintained at a

great and continuing cost. To meet this necessary outlay, no regular

provision existed; and the king threw himself confidently upon his

subjects, with an assurance that they would not refuse to bear their

share in the burden.

[Sidenote: Four priests and a woman are attainted for high treason.]

The journals throw no light upon the debate, if debate there was. The

required sum was voted; we know no more.[567] The sand in Cromwell's

hour-glass was almost run. Once more, and conspicuously, his spirit can

be seen in a bill of attainder against four priests, three of whom,

Abel, Fetherston, and Powell, had been attached to the household of

Queen Catherine, and had lingered in the Tower, in resolute denial of

the supremacy; the fourth, Robert Cook, of Doncaster, "had adhered to

the late arrogant traitor Robert Aske." In companionship with them was a

woman, Margaret Tyrrell, who had refused to acknowledge Prince Edward to

be heir to the crown. These five were declared by act of parliament

guilty of high treason; their trial was dispensed with; they were

sentenced to death, and the bill was passed without a dissentient

voice.[568] This was on the 1st of June.[569] It was the same week in

which the Tower seemed likely to be the destiny of Tunstall and

Gardiner; the struggling parties had reached the crisis when one or the

other must fall. Nine days more were allowed to pass; on the tenth the

blow descended.

But I must again go back for a few steps, to make all movements clear.

[Sidenote: June. Progress of the misfortune of the marriage.]

[Sidenote: May. Relations between the king and queen.]

[Sidenote: Conversation between Wriothesley and Cromwell.]

From the day of the king's marriage "he was in a manner weary of his

life."[570] The public policy of the connexion threatened to be a

failure. It was useless abroad, it was eminently unpopular at home;

while the purpose for which the country had burdened him with a wife was

entirely hopeless.[571] To the queen herself he was kindly distant; but,

like most men who have not been taught in early life to endure

inconvenience, he brooded in secret over his misfortune, and chafed the

wound by being unable to forget it. The documents relating to the

pre-contract were not sent; his vexation converted a shadow into a

reality. He grew superstitious about his repugnance, which he regarded

as an instinct forbidding him to do an unlawful thing. "I have done as

much to move the consent of my heart and mind as ever man did," he said

to Cromwell, "but without success."[572] "I think before God," he

declared another time, "she has never been my lawful wife."[573] The

wretched relations continued without improvement till the 9th of May. On

that day a royal circular was addressed to every member of the Privy

Council, requiring them to attend the king's presence, "for the treaty

of such great and weighty matters as whereupon doth consist the surety

of his Highness's person, the preservation of his honour, and the

tranquillity and quietness of themselves and all other his loving and

faithful subjects."[574] It may be conjectured that the king had at this

time resolved to open his situation for discussion. No other matter can

be ascertained to have existed at the time worthy of language so

serious. Yet he must have changed his purpose. For three weeks longer

the secret was preserved, and his course was still undecided. On the

evening of the 6th or 7th of June Sir Thomas Wriothesley repaired to

Cromwell's house with the ordinary reports of public business. He found

the minister alone in a gallery, leaning against a window. "Were there

any news abroad?" Cromwell asked. Wriothesley said he knew of none.

"There is something," the minister said, "which troubles me. The king

loves not the queen, nor ever has from the beginning; insomuch as I

think assuredly she is yet as good a maid for him as she was when she

came to England." "Marry, sir," Wriothesley answered, "I am right sorry

that his Majesty should be so troubled. For God's sake, devise how his

Grace may be relieved by one way or the other." "Yes," Cromwell said,

"but what and how?" Wriothesley said he could not tell on the moment;

but standing the case as it did, he thought some way might be found.

"Well, well," answered the minister, "it is a great matter." The

conversation ended; and Wriothesley left him for the night.

"The next day following," Wriothesley deposed, "having occasion eftsoons

for business to repair unto him, I chanced to say, 'Sir, I have thought

somewhat of the matter you told me, and I find it a great matter. But,

sir, it can be made better than it is. For God's sake, devise for the

relief of the king; for if he remain in this grief and trouble, we shall

all one day smart for it. If his Grace be quiet we shall all have our

parts with him.' 'It is true,' quoth he; 'but I tell you it is a great

matter.' 'Marry,' quoth I, 'I grant; but let the remedy be searched

for.' 'Well,' quoth he; and thus brake off from me."[575]

[Sidenote: Wriothesley hints a divorce,]

[Sidenote: From which Cromwell shrinks,]

Wriothesley's remedy was of course a divorce. It could be nothing else.

Yet, was it not a remedy worse than any possible disorder? Cromwell,

indeed, knew himself responsible. He it was who, with open eyes, had led

the king into his embarrassment. Yet, was a second divorce to give

mortal affront to the Lutherans, as the first had done to the Catholics?

Was another marriage scandal to taint a movement which had already

furnished too much of such material to insolence? What a triumph to the

Pope! What a triumph to the Emperor! How would his own elaborate policy

crumble to ruins! It was a great matter indeed to Cromwell.

[Sidenote: But which the English conservatives would be likely to

favor.]

But how would the whisper of the word sound in the ears of the English

reactionaries? What would the clergy think of it in whose, only not

unanimous, convictions the German alliance had been from the first a

pollution? What would the parliament think of it, who had seen the fruit

of their theological labours so cunningly snatched from them? What would

the Anglican bishops think of it, who had found themselves insulted from

the pulpit, from behind the shield of the hateful connexion--with one of

their body already in the Tower, and the same danger hanging before them

all? Or the laity generally--the wool-growers of the counties, the

merchants of the cities, the taxpayers charged with the new subsidy,

who, in the connexion with the house of Cleves, saw a fresh cause of

quarrel with the Emperor and the ruin of the trade with Flanders; what,

to all these, in the heat and rage of party, must have seemed the

natural remedy for the king's difficulty? Let Queen Catherine and her

friends be avenged by a retribution in kind. Their opinions on the

matter were shortly expressed.

[Sidenote: Cromwell begins to totter.]

[Sidenote: Hasty expressions drop from him.]

[Sidenote: The king's promise.]

Meanwhile, the minister who, in the conduct of the mighty cause which he

was guiding, had stooped to dabble in these muddy waters of intrigue,

was reaping, within and without, the harvest of his errors. The

consciousness of wrong brought with it the consciousness of weakness and

moody alternations of temper. The triumph of his enemies stared him in

the face, and rash words dropped from him, which were not allowed to

fall upon the ground, declaring what he would do if the king were turned

from the course of the Reformation. Carefully his antagonists at the

council-board had watched him for years. They had noted down his public

errors; spies had reported his most confidential language. Slowly, but

surely, the pile of accusations had gathered in height and weight, till

the time should come to make them public. Three years before, when the

northern insurgents had demanded Cromwell's punishment, the king had

answered that the laws were open, and were equal to high and low. Let an

accuser come forward openly, and prove that the Privy Seal had broken

the laws, and he should be punished as surely and as truly as the

meanest criminal. The case against him was clear at last; if brought

forward in the midst of the king's displeasure, the charges could not

fail of attentive hearing, and the release from the detested matrimony

might be identified with the punishment of the author of it.

[Sidenote: Mixed causes for the hatred against Cromwell.]

For struck down Cromwell should be, as his master Wolsey had been, to

rise no more. Not only was he hated on public grounds, as the leader of

a revolution, but, in his multiplied offices, he had usurped the

functions of the ecclesiastical courts; he had mixed himself in the

private concerns of families; he had interfered between wives and

husbands, fathers and sons, brothers and sisters. In his enormous

correspondence[576] he appears as the universal referee--the resource of

all weak or injured persons. The mad Duchess of Norfolk chose him for

her patron against the duke. Lady Burgh, Lady Parr, Lady

Hungerford,[577] alike made him the champion of their domestic wrongs.

Justly and unjustly, he had dragged down upon himself the animosity of

peers, bishops, clergy, and gentlemen, and their day of revenge was

come.

[Sidenote: June 10.]

[Sidenote: He is arrested.]

[Sidenote: Treasonable words are sworn against him.]

[Sidenote: Exultation of the reactionaries in London.]

On the 10th of June he attended as usual at the morning sitting of the

House of Lords. The Privy Council sat in the afternoon, and, at three

o'clock, the Duke of Norfolk rose suddenly at the table: "My Lord of

Essex," he said, "I arrest you of high treason." There were witnesses in

readiness, who came forward and swore to have heard him say "that, if

the king and all his realm would turn and vary from his opinions, he

would fight in the field in his own person, with his sword in his hand,

against the king and all others; adding that, if he lived a year or two,

he trusted to bring things to that frame that it should not lie in the

king's power to resist or let it."[578] The words "were justified to his

face." It was enough. Letters were instantly written to the ambassadors

at foreign courts, desiring them to make known the blow which had been

struck and the causes which had led to it.[579] The twilight of the

summer evening found Thomas Cromwell within the walls of that grim

prison which had few outlets except the scaffold; and far off, perhaps,

he heard the pealing of the church-bells and the songs of revelry in the

streets, with which the citizens, short of sight, and bestowing on him

the usual guerdon of transcendent merit, exulted in his fall. "The Lord

Cromwell," says Hall, "being in the council chamber, was suddenly

apprehended and committed to the Tower of London; the which many

lamented, but more rejoiced, and specially such as either had been

religious men or favoured religious persons; for they banqueted and

triumphed together that night, many wishing that that day had been seven

years before, and some, fearing lest he should escape, although he were

imprisoned, could not be merry; others, who knew nothing but truth by

him, both lamented him and heartily prayed for him. But this is true,

that, of certain of the clergy, he was detestably hated; and specially

of such as had borne swing, and by his means were put from it; for

indeed he was a man that, in all his doings, seemed not to favour any

kind of Popery, nor could not abide the snuffing pride of some

prelates."[580]

[Sidenote: A trial intended, but exchanged for an act of attainder.]

The first intention was to bring him to trial,[581] but a parliamentary

attainder was a swifter process, better suited to the temper of the

victorious reactionists. Five Romanists but a few days previously had

been thus sentenced under Cromwell's direction. The retribution was only

the more complete which rendered back to him the same measure which he

had dealt to others. The bill was brought in a week after his arrest.

His offences, when reduced into ordinary prose out of the passionate

rhetoric with which they were there described, were generally these:--

[Sidenote: He had set at liberty persons convicted or suspected of

treason.]

1. He was accused of having taken upon himself, without the king's

permission, to set at liberty divers persons convicted and attainted of

misprision of high treason, and divers others being apprehended and in

prison for suspicion of high treason. No circumstances and no names

were mentioned; but the fact seemed to be ascertained.

[Sidenote: He had issued commissions on his own authority.]

2. He was said to have granted licences for money; to have issued

commissions in his own name and by his own authority; and, to have

interfered impertinently and unjustly with the rights and liberties of

the king's subjects.

[Sidenote: He had encouraged heresy.]

3. Being a detestable heretic and disposed to set and sow common

sedition and variance amongst people, he had dispersed into all shires

in the realm great numbers of false, erroneous books, disturbing the

faith of the king's subjects on the nature of the Eucharist and other

articles of the Christian faith. He had openly maintained that the

priesthood was a form--that every Christian might equally administer the

Sacraments. Being vicegerent of the king in matters ecclesiastical, and

appointed to correct heresy, he had granted licences to persons detected

or openly defamed of heresy to teach and preach.

[Sidenote: He had released heretics from prison.]

4. He had addressed letters to the sheriffs in various shires, causing

many false heretics to be set at liberty, some of whom had been actually

indicted, and others who had been for good reason apprehended and were

in prison.

[Sidenote: He had rebuked their accusers and prosecutors.]

5. On complaint being made to him of particular heretics and heresies,

he had protected the same heretics from punishment; "he had terribly

rebuked their accusers," and some of them he had persecuted and

imprisoned, "so that the king's good subjects had been in fear to detect

the said heretics and heresies."

[Sidenote: He had threatened to maintain them by force.]

6. In fuller explanation of the expressions sworn against him on his

arrest, he had made a confederation of heretics, it was said, through

the country; and supposing himself to be fully able, by force and

strength, to maintain and defend his said abominable treasons and

heresies, on declaration made to him of certain preachers, Dr. Barnes

and others, preaching against the king's proclamation, "the same Thomas

Cromwell affirming the same preaching to be good, did not let to declare

and say, 'If the king would turn from it, yet I would not turn; and if

the king did turn, and all his people, I would fight in the field, with

my sword in my hand, against him and all others; and if that I live a

year or two, it shall not lie in the king's power to let it if he

would.'"

[Sidenote: He had amassed a fortune by bribery,]

7. By bribery and extortion he had obtained vast sums of money; and

being thus enriched, he had held the nobles in disdain.

[Sidenote: And had menaced the nobility.]

8. Finally, being reminded of his position with respect to the lords,

and of the consequences which he might bring upon himself, he had said,

"If the Lords would handle him so, he would give them such a breakfast

as never was made in England, and that the proudest of them should

know."[582]

[Sidenote: Were the accusations true?]

[Sidenote: And if true, was his escape or acquittal possible?]

The amount and character of the evidence on which these charges were

brought we have no means of judging; but the majority of them carry

probability on their front; and we need not doubt that the required

testimony was both abundant and sound. The case, of course, had been

submitted in all its details to the king before the first step had been

taken; and he was called upon to fulfil the promise which he had made of

permitting justice to have its way. How was the king to refuse? Many a

Catholic had gone to the scaffold for words lighter than those which had

been sworn against Cromwell, by Cromwell's own order. Did he or did he

not utter those words? If it be these to which he alluded in a letter

which he wrote from the Tower to the king,[583] Sir George Throgmorton

and Sir Richard Rich were the witnesses against him; and though he tried

to shake their testimony, his denial was faint, indirect--not like the

broad, absolute repudiation of a man who was consciously clear of

offence.[584] Could he have cleared himself on this one point, it would

have availed him little if he had suspended the action of the law by his

own authority, if he had permitted books to circulate secretly which

were forbidden by act of parliament, if he had allowed prisoners for

high treason or heresy to escape from confinement. Although to later

generations acts such as these appear as virtues, not as crimes, the

king could not anticipate the larger wisdom of posterity. An English

sovereign could know no guidance but the existing law, which had been

manifestly and repeatedly broken. Even if he had himself desired to

shield his minister, it is not easy to see that he could have prevented

his being brought to trial, or, if tried, could have prevented his

conviction, in the face of an exasperated parliament, a furious clergy,

and a clamorous people. That he permitted the council to proceed by

attainder, in preference to the ordinary forms, must be attributed to

the share which he, too, experienced in the general anger.

[Sidenote: Cranmer declares his confidence in Cromwell's integrity.]

Only one person had the courage or the wish to speak for Cromwell.

Cranmer, the first to come forward on behalf of Anne Boleyn, ventured,

first and alone, to throw a doubt on the treason of the Privy Seal. "I

heard yesterday, in your Grace's council," he wrote to the king, "that

the Earl of Essex is a traitor; yet who cannot be sorrowful and amazed

that he should be a traitor against your Majesty--he whose surety was

only by your Majesty--he who loved your Majesty, as I ever thought, no

less than God--he who studied always to set forwards whatsoever was your

Majesty's will and pleasure--he that cared for no man's displeasure to

serve your Majesty--he that was such a servant, in my judgment, in

wisdom, diligence, faithfulness, and experience as no prince in this

realm ever had--he that was so vigilant to preserve your Majesty from

all treasons, that few could be so secretly conceived but he detected

the same in the beginning!--I loved him as my friend, for so I took him

to be; but I chiefly loved him for the love which I thought I saw him

bear ever towards your Grace, singularly above all others. But now, if

he be a traitor, I am sorry that ever I loved or trusted him; and I am

very glad that his treason is discovered in time; but yet, again, I am

very sorrowful; for who shall your Grace trust hereafter, if you may not

trust him? Alas! I lament your Grace's chance herein. I wot not whom

your Grace may trust."[585]

[Sidenote: But inasmuch as he had broken the law openly and repeatedly,]

[Sidenote: And inasmuch as the law in a free country is the only guide

to the magistrate, his condemnation was inevitable.]

The intercession was bravely ventured; but it was fruitless. The illegal

acts of a minister who had been trusted with extraordinary powers were

too patent for denial; and Cranmer himself was forced into a passive

acquiescence, while the enemies of the Reformation worked their revenge.

Heresy and truth, treason and patriotism! these are words which in a war

of parties change their meaning with the alternations of success, till

time and fate have pronounced the last interpretation, and human

opinions and sympathies bend to the deciding judgment. But while the

struggle is still in progress--while the partisans on either side

exclaim that truth is with them, and error with their antagonists, and

the minds of this man and of that man are so far the only

arbiters--those, at such a time, are not the least to be commended who

obey for their guide the law as it in fact exists. Men there are who

need no such direction, who follow their own course--it may be to a

glorious success, it may be to as glorious a death. To such proud

natures the issue to themselves is of trifling moment. They live for

their work or die for it, as their Almighty Father wills. But the law in

a free country cannot keep pace with genius. It reflects the plain

sentiments of the better order of average men; and if it so happen, as

in a perplexed world of change it will happen and must, that a

statesman, or a prophet, is beyond his age, and in collision with a law

which his conscience forbids him to obey, he bravely breaks it, bravely

defies it, and either wins the victory in his living person, or, more

often, wins it in his death. In fairness, Cromwell should have been

tried; but it would have added nothing to his chances of escape. He

could not disprove the accusations. He could but have said that he had

done right, not wrong,--a plea which would have been but a fresh crime.

But, in the deafening storm of denunciation which burst out, the

hastiest vengeance was held the greatest justice. Any charge, however

wild, gained hearing: Chatillon, the French ambassador, informed his

court that the Privy Seal had intended privately to marry the Lady Mary,

as the Duke of Suffolk had married the king's sister, and on Henry's

death proposed to seize the crown.[586] When a story so extravagant

could gain credence, the circular of the council to the ambassadors

rather furnishes matter of suspicion by its moderation.

[Sidenote: The attainder passes.]

[Sidenote: The quarrel with the Emperor is at an end.]

The attainder passed instantly, with acclamations. Francis wrote a

letter of congratulation to the king on the discovery of the

"treason."[587] Charles V., whose keener eyes saw deeper into the nature

of the catastrophe, when the news were communicated to him, "nothing

moved outwardly in countenance or word," said merely, "What, is he in

the Tower of London, and by the king's commandment?"[588] He sent no

message, no expression of regret or of pleasure, no word of any kind;

but from that moment no menacing demonstrations or violent words or

actions ruffled his relations with England, till a new change had

passed upon the stage. His own friends were now in power. He knew it,

and acknowledged them.[589]

[Sidenote: Triumph of the reactionaries.]

The barrier which had stemmed the reactionary tide had now fallen.

Omnipotent in parliament and convocation, the king inclining in their

favour, carrying with them the sympathy of the wealth, the worldliness,

and the harder intellect of the country, freed from the dreaded

minister, freed from the necessity of conciliating the German

Protestants, the Anglican leaders made haste to redeem their lost time,

and develope their policy more wisely than before.

[Sidenote: The Bishop of Bath is despatched to the Duke of Cleves.]

[Sidenote: July 1. Improvement of the machinery for the enforcement of

the Six Articles.]

[Sidenote: July 6. Parliament discusses the marriage.]

Their handiwork is to be traced in the various measures which occupied

the remainder of the session. The first step was to despatch the Bishop

of Bath to the Duke of Cleves, to gain his consent, if possible, to his

sister's separation from the king; Anne, herself, meanwhile, being

recommended, for the benefit of her health, to retire for a few days to

Richmond. The bill of attainder was disposed of on the 19th of June; on

the 22d the bishops brought in a bill for the better payment of tithes,

which in the few years last past certain persons had contemptuously

presumed to withhold.[590] On the 1st of July a bill was read enacting

that, whereas in the parliament of the year preceding "a godly act was

made for the abolishment of diversity of opinion concerning the

Christian religion," the provisions of which, for various reasons, had

not been enforced, for the better execution of the said act the number

of commissioners appointed for that purpose should be further increased;

and the bishops and the bishops' chancellors should be assisted by the

archdeacons and the officials of their courts.[591] This measure, like

the attainder, was passed unanimously.[592] On the 5th a general pardon

was introduced, from which heretics were exempted by a special

proviso.[593] The new spirit was rapid in its manifestation. The day

after (for it was not thought necessary to wait for a letter from

Germany) the Cleves' marriage was brought forward for discussion; and

the care with which the pleadings were parodied which had justified the

divorce of Catherine, resembled rather a deliberate intention to

discredit the first scandal than a serious effort to defend the second;

but we must not judge the conduct of a party blinded with passion by

the appearance which such conduct seems to wear in a calmer retrospect.

[Sidenote: Speech of the Lord Chancellor not to the purpose.]

The chancellor, once more reminding the lords of the wars of the Roses,

and the danger of a disputed succession, informed them that certain

doubts had arisen affecting the legality of the king's present marriage.

The absence of a prospect of issue was the single palliative of the

present proceedings. The chancellor injured the case, so far as it

admitted of injury, by dwelling on the possibility of an issue of

doubtful legitimacy. The questions raised, however, belonged, he said,

to the canon law, and he proposed that they should be submitted to the

clergy then sitting in convocation.

[Sidenote: A delegacy of the two Houses waits upon the king.]

[Sidenote: The queen consents to accept the judgment of convocation.]

When the chancellor had ceased, the peers desired to communicate with

the other House. Six delegates were sent down to repeat the substance of

what they had heard, and returned presently, followed by twenty members

of the House of Commons, who signified a wish to speak with the king in

person. The lords assented, and repaired in a body with the twenty

members to Whitehall. The formality of state interviews may not be too

closely scrutinized. They requested to be allowed to open to his Majesty

a great and important matter, which his Majesty, they were well aware,

had alone permitted them to discuss. His Majesty being confident that

they would make no improper demands, they laid before him the

proposition which they had heard from the woolsack, and added their own

entreaties that he would be pleased to consent.[594] The king was

gracious, but the canon law required also the consent of the queen; for

which, therefore, the Duke of Suffolk, the Bishop of Winchester, and

other noblemen were despatched to Richmond, and with which they soon

returned.[595] Six years were spent over the affair with Queen

Catherine: almost as many days sufficed to dispose of Anne of Cleves.

[Sidenote: July 7. The convocation undertake the investigation.]

[Sidenote: Evidence is given in.]

On the Wednesday morning the clergy assembled, and Gardiner, in "a

luminous oration,"[596] invited them to the task which they were to

undertake. Evidence was sent in by different members of the Privy

Council whom the king had admitted to his confidence; by the ladies of

the court who could speak for the condition of the queen; and, finally,

by Henry himself, in a paper which he wrote with his own hand,

accompanying it with a request that, after reviewing all the

circumstances under which the marriage had been contracted, they would

inform him if it was still binding; and adding at the same time an

earnest adjuration, which it is not easy to believe to have been wholly

a form, that, having God only before their eyes, they would point out to

him the course which justly, honourably, and religiously he was at

liberty to pursue.[597]

His personal declaration was as follows:[598]--

[Sidenote: The king makes a declaration of his own conduct.]

"I depose and declare that this hereafter written is merely the verity,

intended upon no sinister affection, nor yet upon none hatred or

displeasure, and herein I take God to witness. To the matter I say and

affirm that, when the first communication was had with me for the

marriage of the Lady Anne of Cleves, I was glad to hearken to it,

trusting to have some assured friend by it, I much doubting at that time

both the Emperor, and France, and the Bishop of Rome, and also because I

heard so much both of her excellent beauty and virtuous behaviour. But

when I saw her at Rochester, which was the first time that ever I saw

her, it rejoiced my heart that I had kept me free from making any pact

or bond before with her till I saw her myself; for I assure you that I

liked her so ill and [found her to be] so far contrary to that she was

praised, that I was woe that ever she came into England, and deliberated

with myself that if it were possible to find means to break off, I would

never enter yoke with her; of which misliking both the Great Master

(Lord Russell), the Admiral that now is, and the Master of the Horse

(Sir Anthony Brown) can and will bear record. Then after my repair to

Greenwich, the next day after, I think, I doubt not but the Lord of

Essex will and can declare what I then said to him in that case, not

doubting but, since he is a person which knoweth himself condemned to

die by act of parliament, he will not damn his soul, but truly declare

the truth not only at that time spoken by me, but also continually

until the day of the marriage, and also many times after; wherein my

lack of consent I doubt not doth or shall well appear, and also lack

enough of the will and power to consummate the same, wherein both he and

my physicians can testify according to the truth."

[Sidenote: The clergy deliberate for three days, and on the fourth

deliver their sentence.]

Nearly two hundred clergy were assembled, and the ecclesiastical lawyers

were called in to their assistance. The deliberation lasted Wednesday,

Thursday, and Friday.[599] On Saturday they had agreed upon their

judgment, which was produced and read in the House of Lords.

[Sidenote: Owing to the imperfectly cleared pre-contract,]

The contract between the Lady Anne of Cleves and the Marquis of Lorraine

was sufficient, they would not say to invalidate, but to perplex and

complicate any second marriage into which she might have entered.

[Sidenote: Conditions unfulfilled,]

Before the ceremony the king had required the production of the papers

relating to that engagement with so much earnestness, that the demand

might be taken as a condition on which the marriage was completed. But

the papers had not been produced, the uncertainties had not been cleared

... and thus there had not only been a breach of condition, but, if no

condition had been made, the previous objection was further increased.

[Sidenote: The enforced consent of the king,]

Consent had been wanting on the part of the king. False representations

had been held out to bring the lady into the realm and force her upon

his Majesty's acceptance.

The solemnization of the marriage was extorted from his Majesty against

his will under urgent pressure and compulsion by external causes.

[Sidenote: The absence of consummation,]

[Sidenote: And from other causes affecting the interests of the

kingdom,]

Consummation had not followed, nor ought to follow, and the convocation

had been informed--as indeed it was matter of common notoriety--that if

his Majesty could, without the breach of any divine law, be married to

another person, great benefits might thereby accrue to the realm, the

present welfare and safety whereof depended on the preservation of his

royal person, to the honour of God, the accomplishment of His will, and

the avoiding of sinister opinions and scandals.

Considering all these circumstances, therefore, and weighing what the

Church might and could lawfully do in such cases, and had often before

done,[600] the convocation, by the tenor of those their present letters,

declared his Majesty not to be any longer bound by the matrimony in

question, which matrimony was null and invalid; and both his Majesty and

the Lady Anne were free to contract and consummate other marriages

without objection or delay.

[Sidenote: They declare the marriage dissolved.]

[Sidenote: The continuance of the marriage could not have been desired.]

[Sidenote: But the scandal was great and inevitable.]

To this judgment two archbishops, seventeen bishops, and a hundred and

thirty-nine clergy set their hands.[601] Their sentence was undoubtedly

legal, according to a stricter interpretation of the canon law than had

been usual in the ecclesiastical courts. The case was of a kind in which

the queen, on her separate suit, could, with clear right, have obtained

a divorce _a vinculo_ had she desired; and the country had been

accustomed to see separations infinitely more questionable obtained in

the court of the Rota or at home, with easy and scandalous levity.[602]

Nor could the most scrupulous person, looking at the marriage between

Henry and Anne of Cleves on its own merits, pretend that any law, human

or divine, would have been better fulfilled, or that any feeling

entitled to respect would have been less outraged, by the longer

maintenance of so unhappy a connexion. Yet it is much to be regretted

that the clergy should have been compelled to meddle with it; under

however plausible an aspect the divorce might be presented, it gave a

colour to the interpretation which represented the separation from

Catherine as arising out of caprice, and enabled the enemies of the

Church of England to represent her synods as the instruments of the

king's licentiousness.[603]

[Sidenote: The queen signifies her acquiescence.]

[Sidenote: She will remain in England with the rank of a princess;

palaces, pensions, and establishments.]

For good or for evil, however, the judgment was given. The Bishop of

Winchester spoke a few words in explanation to the two houses of

parliament when it was presented;[604] and the next day the Duke of

Suffolk and Wriothesley waited on the queen, and communicated the

fortune which was impending over her. Anne herself--who, after the

slight agitation which the first mooting of the matter naturally

produced, had acquiesced in everything which was proposed to

her--received the intimation with placidity. She wrote at their request

to the king, giving her consent in writing. She wrote also to her

brother, declaring herself satisfied, and expressing her hope that he

would be satisfied as well. So much facility increased the consideration

which her treatment entitled her to claim. The Bishop of Bath had taken

with him to the Duke of Cleves an offer, which ought to have been an

insult, of a pecuniary compensation for his sister's injury. It was

withdrawn or qualified, before it was known to have been refused, to

increase the settlement on the ex-queen. For many reasons the king

desired that she should remain in England; but she had rank and

precedence assigned to her as if she had been a princess of the blood.

Estates were granted for her maintenance producing nearly three thousand

a year. Palaces, dresses, jewels, costly establishments were added in

lavish profusion, to be her dowry, as she was significantly told, should

she desire to make a fresh experiment in matrimony. And she not only (it

is likely) preferred a splendid independence to the poverty of a petty

court in Germany, but perhaps, also, to the doubtful magnificence which

she had enjoyed as Henry's bride.[605]

[Sidenote: Monday, July 12. The bill for the divorce is passed in

parliament.]

[Sidenote: Displeasure of the Duke of Cleves,]

[Sidenote: And want of generosity on the part of the king,]

Parliament made haste with the concluding stroke. On Monday the 12th the

bill for the divorce was introduced: it was disposed of with the

greatest haste which the forms of the Houses would allow; and the

conclusion of the matter was announced to the queen's own family and the

foreign powers almost as soon as it was known to be contemplated. The

Duke of Cleves, on the first audience of the Bishop of Bath, had shown

himself "heavy and hard to pacify and please." When all was over, the

Bishops of Winchester and Durham, with other noble lords, wrote to him

themselves, persuading him to acquiesce in a misfortune which could no

longer be remedied; his sister had already declared her own

satisfaction; and Henry, through his commissioners, informed him in

detail of the proceedings in parliament and convocation, and trusted

that the friendship between the courts would not be interrupted in

consequence. It would have been well had he added nothing to a bare

narrative of facts; but questionable actions are rarely improved in the

manner of their execution. The king was irritated at the humiliation to

which the conduct of the German powers had exposed him in the spring;

and the Duke of Cleves had afterwards increased his displeasure by a

secret intrigue with the court of Paris. Satisfied with his settlements

upon Anne, he avowed an anxiety to be extricated from his offer of money

to the duke, "who might percase, to his miscontentment, employ it by

the advice of others, or at least without commodity to the giver."[606]

In fact, he said, as he had done nothing but what was right, "if the

lady's contentation would not content her friends, it should not be

honourable for him, with detriment and waste of his treasure, to labour

to satisfy those who without cause misliked his doings, which were just,

and without injury to be passed over."[607] Finally, he concluded: "In

case the duke sheweth himself untractable and high-couraged, in such

sort as devising interests and respects, he shall further set forth the

matter, and increase it with words more largely than reason would he

should, alledging, percase, that though the lady is contented, yet he is

not contented, her mother is not contented, requiring why and wherefore,

and such other behaviour as men in high stomach, forgetting reason, shew

and utter, in that case you, the Bishop of Bath, declaring unto the duke

how we sent you not thither to render an account of our just

proceedings, but friendly to communicate them, you shall desire the duke

to license you to depart."[608]

[Sidenote: Which does not contrast favourably with the conduct of the

duke.]

[Sidenote: The duke will not admit that his sister has been honourably

treated; but will not pres his quarrel to a rupture.]

The high style of Henry contrasts unfavourably with the more dignified

moderation of the answer. The duke wrote himself briefly to the king: he

replied through his minister to the ambassador, that "he was sorry for

the the chance, and would well have wished it had been otherwise; yet,

seeing it was thus, he would not depart from his amity for his Majesty

for any such matter. He could have wished that his sister should return

to Germany; but, if she was satisfied to remain, he had confidence that

the king would act uprightly towards her, and he would not press it." Of

the offer of money he took little notice or none.[609] The bishop

laboured to persuade him to pay respect to the judgment of the Church;

this, however, the duke resolutely refused, altogether ignoring it as of

no manner of moment; neither would he allow that the Lady Anne had been

treated honourably, although the bishop much pressed for the admission.

A cold acquiescence in an affront which he was too weak to resent, and a

promise that his private injuries should not cause the dissolution of an

alliance which had been useful to the interests of religion, was the

most which could be extorted from the Duke of Cleves; and, in calmer

moments, Henry could neither have desired nor looked for more. But no

one at that crisis was calm in England. The passions roused in the

strife of convictions which divided rank from rank, which divided

families, which divided every earnest man against himself, extended over

all subjects which touched the central question. The impulse of the

moment assumed the character of right, and everything was wrong which

refused to go along with it.

[Sidenote: The divorce is communicated to Francis,]

Sir Edward Karne made the communication to Francis, prefacing his story

with the usual prelude of the succession, and the anxiety of the country

that the king should have more children. "Even at that point" Francis

started, expecting that something serious was to follow. When Sir Edward

went on to say that "the examination of the king's marriage was

submitted to the clergy," "What," he said, "the matrimony made with the

queen that now is?" Karne assented. "Then he fetched a great sigh, and

spake no more" till the conclusion, when he answered, "he could nor

would take any other opinion of his Highness but as his loving brother

and friend should do;" for the particular matter, "his Highness's

conscience must be judge therein."[610]

[Sidenote: And to the Emperor.]

[Sidenote: The king had lost Germany and gained the Empire.]

"The Emperor," wrote the resident Pate, "when I declared my commission,

gave me good air, with one gesture and countenance throughout, saving

that suddenly, as I touched the pith of the matter, thereupon he

steadfastly cast his eye upon me a pretty while, and then interrupting

me, demanded what the causes were of the doubts concerning the marriage

with the daughter of Cleves." Pate was not commissioned to enter into

details; and Charles, at the end, contented himself with sending his

hearty recommendations, and expressing his confidence that, as the king

was wise, so he was sure he would do nothing "which should not be to the

discharge of his conscience and the tranquillity of his realm."[611] In

confidence, a few days later, he avowed a hope that all would now go

well in England; the enormities of the past had been due to the

pernicious influence of Cromwell; or were "beside the king's pleasure or

knowledge, being a prince," the Emperor said, "no less godly brought up

than endued and imbued with so many virtuous qualities as whom all

blasts and storms could never alter nor move, but as vice might alter

true virtue."[612] On the whole, the impression left by the affair on

the Continent was that Henry "had lost the hearts of the German princes,

but had gained the Emperor instead."[613] Both the loss and the gain

were alike welcome to the English conservatives. The latter, happy in

their victory, and now freed from all impediments, had only to follow up

their advantage.

[Sidenote: Bill for the moderation of the Six Articles in favour of

incontinence.]

[Sidenote: Appointment of a standing committee of religion, with

extraordinary powers.]

On the 12th of July the persecuting bill was passed, and the Tithe Bill

also, after having been recast by the Commons.[614] On the 16th the Six

Articles Bill was moderated, in favour not of heresy, but of the more

venial offence of incontinency. Married clergy and incontinent priests

by the Six Articles Bill were, on the first offence, to forfeit their

benefices; if they persisted they were to be treated as felons. The

King's Highness, graciously considering "that the punishment of death

was very sore, and too much extreme," was contented to relax the penalty

into three gradations. For the first offence the punishment was to be

forfeiture of all benefices but one; for the second, forfeiture of the

one remaining; for the third, imprisonment for life.[615] A few days

later the extension given to the prerogative, by the Act of

Proclamations, was again shortened by communicating to the clergy a

share of the powers which had been granted absolutely to the crown; and

the parliament at the same time restored into the hands of the

spiritualty the control of religious opinion. The Protestants had

shifted their ground from purgatory and masses to free-will and

justification; and had thus defied the bishops, and left the law behind

them. The king's proclamations had failed through general neglect. A

committee of religion was now constituted, composed of the archbishops,

bishops, and other learned doctors of divinity; and an act, which passed

three readings in the House of Lords in a single day, conferred on this

body a power to declare absolutely, under the king's sanction, the

judgment of the English Church on all questions of theology which might

be raised, either at home or on the Continent, and to compel submission

to their decrees, under such pains and penalties as they might think

proper to impose, limited only by the common law and by the restrictions

attached to the Act of Proclamations.[616]

[Sidenote: Bill of attainder against various persons who had conspired

to betray Calais,]

[Sidenote: To which are added the names of Barnes, Garret, and Jerome.]

[Sidenote: Declared guilty of heresy.]

One important matter remained. This statute conferred no powers of life

and death; and there were certain chosen champions of Protestantism who

had resisted authority, had scoffed at recantation, and had insulted the

Bishop of Winchester. Although a penal measure could not be extended to

comprehend their doctrine by special definition, an omnipotent

parliament might, by a stretch of authority, vindicate the bishop's

dignity, and make a conspicuous example of the offenders. A case of high

treason was before the Houses. At the time when the invasion was

impending, a party of conspirators, Sir Gregory Botolph, Clement

Philpot, and three others, had contrived a project to betray Calais

either to the French or the Spaniards. The plot had been betrayed by a

confederate;[617] and the Anglo-Catholics did not intend to repeat the

blunder of showing a leaning towards the Romanists, which had wrecked

their fortunes in the preceding summer: they sentenced the offenders to

death by an attainder; and after so satisfactory a display of loyalty,

the friends of the bishops added three more names to the list in the

following words:[618] "And whereas Robert Barnes, late of London,

clerk, Thomas Garret, late of London, clerk, and William Jerome, late of

Stepney, in the county of Middlesex, clerk, being detestable and

abominable heretics, and amongst themselves agreed and confederated to

set and sow common sedition and variance amongst the king's true and

loving subjects within this his realm, not fearing their most bounden

duty to God nor yet their allegiance towards his Majesty, have openly

preached, taught, set forth, and delivered in divers and sundry places

of this realm, a great number of heresies, false, erroneous opinions,

doctrines, and sayings; and thinking themselves to be men of learning,

have taken upon them most seditiously and heretically to open and

declare divers and many texts of Scripture, expounding and applying the

same to many perverse and heretical senses, understandings, and

purposes, to the intent to induce and lead his Majesty's said subjects

to diffidence and refusal of the true, sincere faith and belief which

Christian men ought to have in Christian religion, the number whereof

were too long here to be rehearsed.... Be it, therefore, enacted that

the said persons Robert Barnes, Thomas Garret, and William Jerome, shall

be convicted and attainted of heresy, and that they and every of them

shall be deemed and adjudged abominable and detestable heretics, and

shall have and suffer pains of death by burning or otherwise, as shall

please the King's Majesty."

[Sidenote: Dissolution of parliament.]

This was the last measure of consequence in the session. Three days

after it closed. On the 24th the king came down to Westminster in

person, to thank the parliament for the subsidy. The Speaker of the

House of Commons congratulated the country on their sovereign. The

chancellor replied, in his Majesty's name, that his only study was for

the welfare of his subjects; his only ambition was to govern them by the

rule of the Divine law, and the Divine love, to the salvation of their

souls and bodies. The bills which had been passed were then presented

for the royal assent; and the chancellor, after briefly exhorting the

members of both houses to show the same diligence in securing the due

execution of these measures as they had displayed in enacting them,

declared the parliament dissolved.[619]

[Sidenote: The close of the Cromwell drama.]

[Sidenote: His letters to the king from the Tower.]

[Sidenote: July 28. He goes to execution.]

The curtain now rises on the closing act of the Cromwell tragedy. In the

condemned cells in the Tower, the three Catholics for whose sentence he

was himself answerable--the three Protestants whom his fall had left

exposed to their enemies--were the companions of the broken minister;

and there for six weeks he himself, the central figure, whose will had

made many women childless, had sat waiting his own unpitied doom. Twice

the king had sent to him "honourable persons, to receive such

explanations as he could offer. He had been patiently and elaborately

heard."[620] Twice he had himself written,--once, by Henry's desire, an

account of the Anne of Cleves marriage,--once a letter, which his

faithful friend Sir Ralph Sadler carried to Henry for him; and this last

the king caused the bearer three times to read over, and "seemed to be

moved therewith."[621] Yet what had Cromwell to say? That he had done

his best in the interest of the commonwealth? But his best was better

than the laws of the commonwealth. He had endeavoured faithfully to

serve the king; but he had endeavoured also to serve One higher than the

king. He had thrown himself in the breach against king and people where

they were wrong. He had used the authority with which he had been so

largely trusted to thwart the parliament and suspend statutes of the

realm. He might plead his services; but what would his services avail

him! An offence in the king's eyes was ever proportioned to the rank,

the intellect, the character of the offender. The _via media Anglicana_,

on which Henry had planted his foot, prescribed an even justice; and as

Cromwell, in this name of the _via media_, had struck down without mercy

the adherents of the Church of Rome, there was no alternative but to

surrender him to the same equitable rule, or to declare to the world and

to himself that he no longer held that middle place which he so

vehemently claimed. To sustain the Six Articles and to pardon the

vicegerent was impossible. If the consent to the attainder cost the king

any pang, we do not know; only this we know, that a passionate appeal

for mercy, such as was rarely heard in those days of haughty endurance,

found no response; and on the 28th of July the most despotic minister

who had ever governed England passed from the Tower to the scaffold.

[Sidenote: A false account of his last words printed by authority.]

History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death of Elizabeth. Vol. III · 第 9 / 11 章