CHAPTER XII. (p. 302)

"THE PREVAILING OF THE GATES OF HELL."

That victorious issue of the Tudor struggle with the power, against

which Popes proclaimed that the gates of hell should not prevail, was

distant enough in 1533. Then the Tudor monarch seemed rushing headlong

to irretrievable ruin. Sure of himself and his people, and feeling no

longer the need of Clement's favour, Henry threw off the mask of

friendship, and, on the 9th of July, confirmed, by letters patent, the

Act of Annates.[845] Cranmer's proceedings at Dunstable, Henry's

marriage, and Anne's coronation, constituted a still more flagrant

defiance of Catholic Europe. The Pope's authority was challenged with

every parade of contempt. He could do no less than gather round him

the relics of his dignity and prepare to launch against Henry the

final ban of the Church.[846] So, on the 11th of July, the sentence of

the greater excommunication was drawn up. Clement did not yet, (p. 303)

nor did he ever, venture to assert his claims to temporal supremacy in

Christendom, by depriving the English King of his kingdom; he thought

it prudent to rely on his own undisputed prerogative. His spiritual

powers seemed ample; and he applied to himself the words addressed to

the Prophet Jeremiah, "Behold, I have set thee above nations and

kingdoms that thou mayest root up and destroy, build and plant, a lord

over all kings of the whole earth and over all peoples bearing

rule".[847] In virtue of this prerogative Henry was cut off from the

Church while he lived, removed from the pale of Christian society, and

deprived of the solace of the rites of religion; when he died, he must

lie without burial, and in hell suffer torment for ever.[848]

[Footnote 845: _L. and P._, vi., 793.]

[Footnote 846: _Ibid._, vi., 807, App. 3; vii.,

185. The declaration of it was at the same time

suspended until September, and the delicate

question of entrusting the _executoriales_ to

princes who repudiated the honour caused further

delays. The bull of excommunication was eventually

dated 30th August, 1535 (ix., 207); and a bull

depriving Henry of his kingdom was sanctioned,

printed and prepared for publication (x., Introd.,

p. xv., Nos. 82, 107), but first Francis and then

Charles put difficulties in the way. In December,

1538, Paul III., now that he, Charles and Francis

were united in the bond of friendship, published

with additions the bull of August, 1535 (XIII.,

ii., 1087, Introd., p. xli.). Even then no bull of

deprivation was published. Apparently that was an

honour reserved for Henry's daughter.]

[Footnote 847: Jeremiah i. 10. The Vulgate text

adopted in Papal bulls differs materially from that

in the English Authorised Version.]

[Footnote 848: See the text in Burnet, ed. Pocock,

iv., 318-31.]

What would be the effect of this terrific anathema? The omens looked

ill for the English King. If he had flouted the Holy See, he had also

offended the temporal head of Christendom. The Emperor's aunt had been

divorced, his cousin's legitimacy had been impugned, and the

despatches of his envoy, Chapuys, were filled with indignant

lamentations over the treatment meted out to Catherine and to her

daughter. Both proud and stubborn women, they resolutely refused to

admit in any way the validity of Henry's acts and recent legislation.

Catherine would rather starve as Queen, than be sumptuously clothed

and fed as Princess Dowager. Henry would give her anything she asked,

if she would acknowledge that she was not the Queen, nor her daughter

the Princess; but her bold resistance to his commands and wishes (p. 304)

brought out all the worst features of his character.[849] His anger

was not the worst the Queen and her daughter had to fear; he still

preserved a feeling of respect for Catherine and of affection for

Mary. "The King himself," writes Chapuys, "is not ill-natured; it is

this Anne who has put him in this perverse and wicked temper, and

alienates him from his former humanity."[850] The new Queen's jealous

malignity passed all bounds. She caused her aunt to be made governess

to Mary, and urged her to box her charge's ears; and she used every

effort to force the Princess to serve as a maid upon her little

half-sister, Elizabeth.[851]

[Footnote 849: _L. and P._, vi., 805, 1186.]

[Footnote 850: _Ibid._, vi., 351; vii., 171, 871;

_cf._ v., 216, where Chapuys says Anne hated the

Princess Mary more than she did Queen Catherine

because she saw that Henry had some affection for

Mary, and praised her in Anne's presence. At the

worst Henry's manners were generally polite; on one

occasion, writes Chapuys, "when the King was going

to mount his horse, the Princess went on to a

terrace at the top of the house to see him. The

King, either being told of it or by chance, turned

round, and seeing her on her knees with her hands

joined, bowed to her and put his hand to his hat.

Then all those present who had not dared to raise

their heads to look at her [surely they may not

have seen her] rejoiced at what the King had done,

and saluted her reverently with signs of good-will

and compassion" (_ibid._, vii., 83).]

[Footnote 851: _Ibid._, vii., 171.]

This humiliation was deeply resented by the people, who, says Chapuys,

though forbidden, on pain of their lives, to call Catherine Queen,

shouted it at the top of their voices.[852] "You cannot imagine," he

writes a few weeks later to Charles, "the great desire of all this

people that your Majesty should send men. Every day I have been

applied to about it by Englishmen of rank, wit and learning, (p. 305)

who give me to understand that the last King Richard was never so much

hated by his people as this King."[853] The Emperor, he went on, had a

better chance of success than Henry VII., and Ortiz at Rome was

cherishing the belief that England would rise against the King for his

contumacy and schismatic disobedience.[854] Fisher was urgent that

Charles should prepare an invasion of England; the young Marquis of

Exeter, a possible claimant to the throne, was giving the same

advice.[855] Abergavenny, Darcy and other peers brooded in sullen

discontent. They were all listening to the hysterical ravings of

Elizabeth Barton,[856] the Nun of Kent, who prophesied that Henry had

not a year to live. Charles's emissaries were busy in Ireland, where

Kildare was about to revolt. James V. of Scotland was hinting at his

claims to the English crown, should Henry be deprived by the

Pope;[857] and Chapuys was divided in mind whether it would be better

to make James the executor of the papal sentence, or marry Mary to

some great English noble, and raise an internal rebellion.[858] At

Catherine's suggestion he recommended to the Emperor Reginald Pole, a

grandson of George, Duke of Clarence, as a suitor for Mary's hand; and

he urged, on his own account, Pole's claims to the English

throne.[859] Catherine's scruples, not about deposing her husband, or

passing over the claims of Henry's sisters, but on the score of Edward

IV.'s grandson, the Marquis of Exeter, might, thought Chapuys, (p. 306)

be removed by appealing to the notorious sentence of Bishop Stillington,

who, on the demand of Richard III., had pronounced Edward IV.'s

marriage void and his children illegitimate.[860] Those who had been

the King's firm supporters when the divorce first came up were some of

them wavering, and others turning back.[861] Archbishop Lee, Bishops

Tunstall and Gardiner, and Bennet,[862] were now all in secret or open

opposition, and even Longland was expressing to Chapuys regrets that

he had ever been Henry's confessor;[863] like other half-hearted

revolutionists, they would never have started at all, had they known

how far they would have to go, and now they were setting their sails

for an adverse breeze. It was the King, and the King alone, who kept

England on the course which he had mapped out. Pope and Emperor were

defied; Europe was shocked; Francis himself disapproved of the breach

with the Church; Ireland was in revolt; Scotland, as ever, was

hostile; legislation had been thrust down the throats of a

recalcitrant Church, and, we are asked to believe, of a no less

unwilling House of Commons, while the people at large were seething

with indignation at the insults heaped upon the injured Queen and her

daughter. By all the laws of nature, of morals, and of politics, it

would seem, Henry was doomed to the fate of the monarch in the Book of

Daniel the Prophet,[864] who did according to his will and exalted and

magnified himself above every god; who divided the land for gain, and

had power over the treasures of gold and silver; who was troubled by

tidings from the east and from the north; who went forth with (p. 307)

great fury to destroy and utterly make away many, and yet came to

his end, and none helped him.

[Footnote 852: _Ibid._, vi., 918.]

[Footnote 853: _L. and P._, vi., 508; vii., 121.]

[Footnote 854: _Ibid._, v., 1324.]

[Footnote 855: _Ibid._, v., 416.]

[Footnote 856: See _Transactions of the Royal Hist.

Soc._, N.S., xviii.; _L. and P._, vi., 1419, 1445,

1464, 1467, 1468.]

[Footnote 857: _L. and P._, v., 609, 807; vi., 815,

821.]

[Footnote 858: _Ibid._, vi., 446, 541; vii., 114.]

[Footnote 859: _Ibid._, vi., 1164.]

[Footnote 860: _L. and P._, vii., 1368.]

[Footnote 861: Even Norfolk, and Suffolk and his

wife wanted to dissuade Henry in 1531 from

persisting in the divorce (_ibid._, v., 287).]

[Footnote 862: _Ibid._, v., 696.]

[Footnote 863: _Ibid._, vii., 14.]

[Footnote 864: Daniel xi., 36-45.]

All these circumstances, real and alleged, would be quite convincing

as reasons for Henry's failure; but they are singularly inconclusive

as explanations of his success, of the facts that his people did not

rise and depose him, that no Spanish Armada disgorged its host on

English shores, and that, for all the papal thunderbolts, Henry died

quietly in his bed fourteen years later, and was buried with a pomp

and respect to which Popes themselves were little accustomed. He may

have stood alone in his confidence of success, and in his penetration

through these appearances into the real truth of the situation behind.

That, from a purely political or non-moral point of view, is his chief

title to greatness. He knew from the beginning what he could do; he

had counted the cost and calculated the risks; and, writes Russell in

August, 1533, "I never saw the King merrier than he is now".[865] As

early as March, 1531, he told Chapuys that if the Pope issued 10,000

excommunications he would not care a straw for them.[866] When the

papal nuncio first hinted at excommunication and a papal appeal to the

secular arm, Henry declared that he cared nothing for either.[867] He

would open the eyes of princes, he said, and show them how small was

really the power of the Pope;[868] and "when the Pope had done what he

liked on his side, Henry would do what he liked here".[869] That

threat, at least, he fulfilled with a vengeance. He did not fear the

Spaniards; they might come, he said (as they did in 1588), but (p. 308)

perhaps they might not return.[870] England, he told his subjects,

was not conquerable, so long as she remained united;[871] and the

patriotic outburst with which Shakespeare closes "King John" is but an

echo and an expansion of the words of Henry VIII.

This England never did, nor never shall,

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,

But when it first did help to wound itself....

Come the three corners of the world in arms,

And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,

If England to itself do rest but true.

[Footnote 865: _L. and P._, vi., 948.]

[Footnote 866: _Ibid._, v., 148.]

[Footnote 867: _Ibid._, v., 738.]

[Footnote 868: _Ibid._, v., 1292.]

[Footnote 869: _Ibid._, v., 287.]

[Footnote 870: _L. and P._, vi., 1479.]

[Footnote 871: _Ibid._, vi., 324.]

The great fear of Englishmen was lest Charles should ruin them by

prohibiting the trade with Flanders. "Their only comfort," wrote

Chapuys, "is that the King persuades the people that it is not in your

Majesty's power to do so."[872] Henry had put the matter to a

practical test, in the autumn of 1533, by closing the Staple at

Calais.[873] It is possible that the dispute between him and the

merchants, alleged as the cause for this step, was real; but the King

could have provided his subjects with no more forcible object-lesson.

Distress was felt at once in Flanders; complaints grew so clamorous

that the Regent sent an embassy post-haste to Henry to remonstrate,

and to represent the closing of the Staple as an infraction of

commercial treaties. Henry coldly replied that he had broken no

treaties at all; it was merely a private dispute between his merchants

and himself, in which foreign powers had no ground for intervention.

The envoys had to return, convinced against their will. The Staple at

Calais was soon reopened, but the English King was able to (p. 309)

demonstrate to his people that the Flemings "could not do without

England's trade, considering the outcry they made when the Staple of

Calais was closed for only three months".

[Footnote 872: _Ibid._, vi., 1460.]

[Footnote 873: _Ibid._, vi., 1510, 1523, 1571.]

Henry, indeed, might almost be credited with second-sight into the

Emperor's mind. On 31st May, 1533, Charles's council discussed the

situation.[874] After considering Henry's enormities, the councillors

proceeded to deliberate on the possible remedies. There were three:

justice, force and a combination of both. The objections to relying on

methods of justice, that is, on the papal sentence, were, firstly,

that Henry would not obey, and secondly, that the Pope was not to be

trusted. The objections to the employment of force were, that war

would imperil the whole of Europe, and especially the Emperor's

dominions, and that Henry had neither used violence towards Catherine

nor given Charles any excuse for breaking the Treaty of Cambrai.

Eventually, it was decided to leave the matter to Clement. He was to

be urged to give sentence against Henry, but on no account to lay

England under an interdict, as that "would disturb her intercourse

with Spain and Flanders. If, therefore, an interdict be resorted to,

it should be limited to one diocese, or to the place where Henry

dwells."[875] Such an interdict might put a premium on assassination,

but otherwise neither Henry nor his people were likely to care much

about it. The Pope should, however, be exhorted to depose the English

King; that might pave the way for Mary's accession and for the

predominance in England of the Emperor's influence; but the execution

of the sentence must not be entrusted to Charles.[876] It would (p. 310)

be excellent if James V. or the Irish would undertake to beard the

lion in his den, but the Emperor did not see his way clear to

accepting the risk himself.

[Footnote 874: _L. and P._, vi., 568.]

[Footnote 875: _Ibid._, vi., 570.]

[Footnote 876: In January, 1534, Charles's

ambassador at Rome repudiated the Pope's statement

that the Emperor had ever offered to assist in the

execution of the Pope's sentence (_L. and P._,

vii., 96).]

Charles was, indeed, afraid, not merely of Henry, but of Francis, who

was meditating fresh Italian schemes; and various expedients were

suggested to divert his attention in other directions. He might be

assisted in an attack upon Calais. "Calais," was Charles's cautious

comment, "is better as it is, for the security of Flanders."[877] The

Pope hinted that the grant of Milan would win over Francis. It

probably would; but Charles would have abandoned half a dozen aunts

rather than see Milan in French possession. His real concern in the

matter was not the injustice to Catherine, but the destruction of the

prospect of Mary's succession. That was a tangible political interest,

and Charles was much less anxious to have Henry censured than to have

Mary's legitimate claim to the throne established.[878] He was a great

politician, absolutely impervious to personal wrong when its remedy

conflicted with political interests. "Though the Emperor," he said,

"is bound to the Queen, this is a private matter, and public

considerations must be taken into account." And public considerations,

as he admitted a year later, "compelled him to conciliate (p. 311)

Henry".[879] So he refused Chapuys' request to be recalled lest his

presence in England should lead people to believe that Charles had

condoned Henry's marriage with Anne Boleyn,[880] and dissuaded

Catherine from leaving England.[881] The least hint to Francis of any

hostile intent towards Henry would, thought Charles, be at once

revealed to the English King, and the two would join in making war on

himself. War he was determined to avoid, for, apart from the ruin of

Flanders, which it would involve, Henry and Francis had long been

intriguing with the Lutherans in Germany. A breach might easily

precipitate civil strife in the Empire; and, indeed, in June, 1534,

Wuertemberg was wrested from the Habsburgs by Philip of Hesse with the

connivance of France. Francis, too, was always believed to have a

working agreement with the Turk; Barbarossa was giving no little cause

for alarm in the Mediterranean; while Henry on his part had established

close relations with Luebeck and Hamburg, and was fomenting dissensions

in Denmark, the crown of which he was offered but cautiously (p. 312)

declined.[882]

[Footnote 877: _Ibid._, vi., 774. The sense of this

passage is spoilt in _L. and P._ by the comma being

placed after "better" instead of after "is".]

[Footnote 878: Control over England was the great

objective of Habsburg policy. In 1513 Margaret of

Savoy was pressing Henry to have the succession

settled on his sister Mary, then betrothed to

Charles himself (_ibid._, i., 4833).]

[Footnote 879: _L. and P._, vii., 229. All that

Charles thought practicable was to "embarrass Henry

in his own kingdom, and to execute what the Emperor

wrote to the Irish chiefs" (_cf._ vii., 342, 353).]

[Footnote 880: _Ibid._, vi., 351. Charles's conduct

is a striking vindication of Wolsey's foresight in

1528, when he told Campeggio that the Emperor would

not wage war over the divorce of Catherine, and

said there would be a thousand ways of keeping on

good terms with him (Ehses, _Roemische Dokumente_,

p. 69; _L. and P._, iv., 4881). Dr. Gairdner thinks

Wolsey was insincere in this remark (_English Hist.

Rev._, xii., 242), but he seems to have gauged

Charles V.'s character and embarrassments

accurately.]

[Footnote 881: _L. and P._, vi., 863. Her departure

would have prejudiced Mary's claim to the throne,

but Charles's advice was particularly callous in

view of the reports which Chapuys was sending

Charles of her treatment.]

[Footnote 882: _L. and P._, vii., 737, 871, 957-58,

and vol. viii., _passim_; _cf._ C.F. Wurm, _Die

politischen Beziehungen Heinrichs VIII. zu Mercus

Meyer und Juergen Wullenwever_, Hamburg, 1852.]

This incurable jealousy between Francis and Charles made the French

King loth to weaken his friendship with Henry. The English King was

careful to impress upon the French ambassador that he could, in the

last resort, make his peace with Charles by taking back Catherine and

by restoring Mary to her place in the line of succession.[883] Francis

had too poignant a recollection of the results of the union between

Henry and Charles from 1521 to 1525 ever to risk its renewal. The age

of the crusades and chivalry was gone; commercial and national rivalries

were as potent in the sixteenth century as they are to-day. Then, as

in subsequent times, mutual suspicions made impossible an effective

concert of Europe against the Turk. The fall of Rhodes and the death

of one of Charles's brothers-in-law at Mohacz and the expulsion of

another from the throne of Denmark had never been avenged, and, in

1534, the Emperor was compelled to evacuate Coron.[884] If Europe

could not combine against the common enemy of the Faith, was it likely

to combine against one who, in spite of all his enormities, was still

an orthodox Christian? And, without a combination of princes to

execute them, papal censures, excommunications, interdicts, and all

the spiritual paraphernalia, served only to probe the hollowness of

papal pretensions, and to demonstrate the deafness of Europe to the

calls of religious enthusiasm. In Spain, at least, it might have been

thought that every sword would leap from its scabbard at a summons (p. 313)

from Charles on behalf of the Spanish Queen. "Henry," wrote Chapuys,

"has always fortified himself by the consent of Parliament."[885] It

would be well, he thought, if Charles would follow suit, and induce

the Cortes of Aragon and Castile, "or at least the grandees," to offer

their persons and goods in Catherine's cause. Such an offer, if

published in England, "will be of inestimable service". But here comes

the proof of Charles's pitiful impotence; in order to obtain this

public offer, the Emperor was "to give them privately an exemption

from such offer and promise of persons and goods". It was to be one

more pretence like the others, and unfortunately for the Pope and for

the Emperor, Henry had an inconvenient habit of piercing disguises.

[Footnote 883: _L. and P._, vi., 1572.]

[Footnote 884: _Ibid._, vii., 670.]

[Footnote 885: _L. and P._, vi., 720.]

The strength of Henry's position at home was due to a similar lack of

unity among his domestic enemies. If the English people had wished to

depose him, they could have effected their object without much

difficulty. In estimating the chances of a possible invasion, it was

pointed out how entirely dependent Henry was upon his people: he had

only one castle in London, and only a hundred yeomen of the guard to

defend him.[886] He would, in fact, have been powerless against a

united people or even against a partial revolt, if well organised and

really popular. There was chronic discontent throughout the Tudor

period, but it was sectional. The remnants of the old nobility always

hated Tudor methods of government, and the poorer commons were sullen

at their ill-treatment by the lords of the land; but there was no

concerted basis of action between the two. The dominant class (p. 314)

was commercial, and it had no grievance against Henry, while it feared

alike the lords and the lower orders. In the spoliation of the Church

temporal lords and commercial men, both of whom could profit thereby,

were agreed; and nowhere was there much sympathy with the Church as an

institution apart from its doctrine. Chapuys himself admits that the

act, depriving the clergy of their profits from leases, was passed "to

please the people";[887] and another conservative declared that, if

the Church were deprived of all its temporal goods, many would be glad

and few would bemoan.[888] Sympathy with Catherine and hatred of Anne

were general, but people thought, like Charles, that these were

private griefs, and that public considerations must be taken into

account. Englishmen are at all times reluctant to turn out one

Government until they see at least the possibility of another to take

its place, and the only alternative to Henry VIII. was anarchy. The

opposition could not agree on a policy, and they could not agree on a

leader. There were various grandchildren of Edward IV. and of

Clarence, who might put forward distant claims to the throne; and

there were other candidates in whose multitude lay Henry's safety. It

was quite certain that the pushing of any one of these claimants would

throw the rest on Henry's side. James V., whom at one time Chapuys

favoured, knew that a Scots invasion would unite the whole of England

against him; and Charles was probably wise in rebuking his

ambassador's zeal, and in thinking that any attempt on his own part

would be more disastrous to himself than to Henry.[889] For all (p. 315)

this, the English King was, as Chapuys remarks, keeping a very

watchful eye on the countenance of his people,[890] seeing how far he

could go and where he must stop, and neglecting no precaution for the

peace and security of himself and his kingdom. Acts were passed to

strengthen the navy, improvements in arms and armament were being

continually tested, and the fortifications at Calais, on the Scots

Borders and elsewhere were strengthened. Wales was reduced to law and

order, and, through the intermediation of Francis, a satisfactory

peace was made with Scotland.[891]

[Footnote 886: _Ibid._, vi., App. 7.]

[Footnote 887: _L. and P._, vii., 114.]

[Footnote 888: _Ibid._, vii., 24.]

[Footnote 889: Chapuys is quite plaintive when he

hints at the advantages which might follow if only

"your Majesty were ever so little angry" with Henry

VIII. (_L. and P._, vii., 114). A few days later he

"apologises for his previous letters advocating

severity" (_ibid._, vii., 171).]

[Footnote 890: _Ibid._, vi., 351.]

[Footnote 891: _Ibid._, vi., 729, 1161. One of

Henry's baits to James V. was a suggestion that he

would get Parliament to entail the succession on

James if his issue by Anne Boleyn failed (_ibid._,

vii., 114).]

* * * * *

Convinced of his security from attack at home and abroad, Henry

proceeded to accomplish what remained for the subjugation of the

Church in England and the final breach with Rome. Clement had no

sooner excommunicated Henry than he began to repent; he was much more

alarmed than the English King at the probable effects of his sentence.

Henry at once recalled his ambassadors from Rome, and drew up an

appeal to a General Council.[892] The Pope feared he would lose

England for ever. Even the Imperialists proved but Job's comforters,

and told him that, after all, it was only "an unprofitable (p. 316)

island,"[893] the loss of which was not to be compared with the

renewed devotion of Spain and the Emperor's other dominions; possibly

they assured him that there would never again be a sack of Rome.

Clement delayed for a time the publication of the sentence against

Henry, and in November he went to his interview with Francis I. at

Marseilles.[894] While he was there, Bonner intimated to him Henry's

appeal to a General Council. Clement angrily rejected the appeal as

frivolous, and Francis regarded this defiance of the Pope as an

affront to himself in the person of his guest, and as the ruin of his

attempts to reconcile the two parties. "Ye have clearly marred all,"

he said to Gardiner; "as fast as I study to win the Pope, you study to

lose him,"[895] and he declared that, had he known of the intimation

beforehand, it should never have been made. Henry, however, had no

desire that the Pope should be won.[896] He was, he told the French

ambassador, determined to separate from Rome; "he will not, in

consequence of this, be less Christian, but more so, for in everything

and in every place he desires to cause Jesus Christ to be recognised,

who alone is the patron of Christians; and he will cause the Word to

be preached, and not the canons and decrees of the Pope."[897]

[Footnote 892: _Ibid._, vi., 721, 979, 980, 998.]

[Footnote 893: _L. and P._, vi., 997.]

[Footnote 894: He is said, while there, to have

privately admitted to Francis that the dispensation

of Julius II. was invalid (_ibid._, vii., 1348,

App. 8).]

[Footnote 895: _Ibid._, vi., 1425, 1426, 1427.]

[Footnote 896: On his side he was angry with

Francis for telling the Pope that Henry would side

against the Lutherans; he was afraid it might spoil

his practices with them (_ibid._, vi., 614, 707);

the Luebeckers had already suggested to Henry VIII.

that he should seize the disputed throne of Denmark

(_ibid._, vi., 428; _cf._ the present writer in

_Cambridge Modern History_, ii., 229).]

[Footnote 897: _L. and P._, vi., 1435, 1479.]

Parliament was to meet to effect this purpose in January, 1534, (p. 317)

and during the previous autumn there are the first indications,

traceable to Cromwell's hand, of an attempt to pack it. He drew up a

memorandum of such seats as were vacant from death or from other

causes; most of the new members appear to have been freely elected,

but four vacancies were filled by "the King's pleasure."[898] More

extensive and less doubtful was the royal interference in the election

of abbots. Many abbeys fell vacant in 1533, and in every case

commissioners were sent down to secure the election of the King's

nominee; in many others, abbots were induced to resign, and fresh (p. 318)

ones put in their place.[899] It is not clear that the main object was

to pack the clerical representation in the House of Lords, because

only a few of these abbots had seats there, the abbots gave much less

trouble than the bishops in Parliament, and Convocation, where they

largely outnumbered the bishops, was much more amenable than the House

of Peers, where the bishops' votes preponderated. It is more probable

that the end in view was already the dissolution of the monasteries by

means of surrender. Cromwell, who was now said to "rule everything,"[900]

was boasting that he would make his King the richest monarch in

Christendom, and his methods may be guessed from his praise of the

Sultan as a model to other princes for the authority he wielded over

his subjects.[901] Henry, however, was fortunate in 1533, even in the

matter of episcopal representation. He had, since the fall of Wolsey,

had occasion to fill up the Sees of York, Winchester, London, Durham

and Canterbury; and in this year five more became vacant: Bangor, Ely,

Coventry and Lichfield by death, and Salisbury and Worcester through

the deprivation by Act of Parliament of their foreign and absentee

pastors, Campeggio and Ghinucci.[902] Of the other bishops, Clerk of

Bath and Wells, and Longland of Lincoln, had been active in the

divorce, which, indeed, Longland, the King's confessor, was said to

have originally suggested about the year 1523; the Bishops of Norwich

and of Chichester were both over ninety years of age.[903] (p. 319)

Llandaff was Catherine's confessor, a Spaniard who could not speak a

word of English. On the whole bench there was no one but Fisher of

Rochester who had the will or the courage to make any effective stand

on behalf of the Church's liberty.

[Footnote 898: _L. and P._, vi., 1382; vii., 56. A

whole essay might be written on this latter brief

document; it is not, what it purports to be, a list

of knights of the shires who had died since the

beginning of Parliament, for the names are those of

living men. Against most of the constituencies two

or three names are placed; Dr. Gairdner suggests

that these are the possible candidates suggested by

Cromwell and to be nominated by the King. But why

is "the King's pleasure" placed opposite only three

vacancies, if the whole twenty-eight were to be

filled on his nomination? The names are probably

those of influential magnates in the neighbourhood

who would naturally have the chief voice in the

election; and thus they would correspond with the

vacancies, _e.g._, Hastings, opposite which is

placed "Not for the Warden of the Cinque Ports,"

and Southwark, for which there is a similar note

for the Duke of Suffolk. It is obvious that the

King could not fill up all the vacancies by

nomination; for opposite Worcester town, where

_both_ members, Dee and Brenning, had died, is

noted, "the King to name _one_". It is curious to

find "the King's pleasure" after Winchester city,

as that was one of the constituencies for which

Gardiner as bishop afterwards said he was wont to

nominate burgesses (Foxe, ed. Townsend, vi., 54).

It must also be remembered that these were

bye-elections and possibly a novelty. In 1536 the

rebels demand that "if a knight or burgess died

during Parliament his room should continue void to

the end of the same" (_L. and P._, xi., 1182

[17]). In the seventeenth century

supplementary members were chosen for the Long

Parliament to fill possible vacancies; there were

no bye-elections.]

[Footnote 899: _L. and P._, vi., 716, 816, 847,

1007, 1056, 1057, 1109 (where by the Bishopric of

"Chester" is meant Coventry and Lichfield, and not

Chichester, as suggested by the editor; the See of

Coventry and Lichfield was often called Chester

before the creation of the latter see), 1239, 1304,

1376, 1408, 1513; vii., 108, 257, 297, 344, 376.]

[Footnote 900: _Ibid._, vi., 1445.]

[Footnote 901: _Ibid._, vii., 1554.]

[Footnote 902: _Ibid._, vii., 48, 54, 634.]

[Footnote 903: _L. and P._, vii., 171.]

Before Parliament met Francis sent Du Bellay, Bishop of Paris, to

London to make one last effort to keep the peace between England and

Rome. Du Bellay could get no concessions of any value from Henry. All

the King would promise was that, if Clement would before Easter

declare his marriage with Catherine null and that with Anne valid, he

would not complete the extirpation of the papal authority.[904] Little

enough of that remained, and Henry himself had probably no expectation

and no wish that his terms should be accepted. Long before Du Bellay

had reached Rome, Parliament was discussing measures designed to

effect the final severance. Opposition was of the feeblest character

alike in Convocation and in both Houses of Parliament. Chapuys himself

gloomily prophesied that there would be no difficulty in getting the

principal measures, abolishing the Pope's authority and arranging for

the election of bishops, through the House of Lords.[905] The second

Act of Appeals embodied the concessions made by Convocation in 1532

and rejected that year in the House of Lords. Convocation was neither

to meet nor to legislate without the King's assent; Henry might

appoint a royal commission to reform the canon law;[906] appeals were

to be permitted to Chancery from the Archbishop's Court;[907] (p. 320)

abbeys and other religious houses, which had been exempt from

episcopal authority, were placed immediately under the jurisdiction of

Chancery. A fresh Act of Annates defined more precisely the new method

of electing bishops, and provided that, if the Chapter did not elect

the royal nominee within twelve days, the King might appoint him by

letters patent. A third act forbade the payment of Peter-pence and

other impositions to the Court of Rome, and handed over the business

of dispensations and licences to the Archbishop of Canterbury; at the

same time it declared that neither King nor realm meant to vary from

the articles of the Catholic Faith of Christendom.

[Footnote 904: _Ibid._, vii., App. 13.]

[Footnote 905: _Ibid._, vii., 171; _cf._ XII., ii.,

952.]

[Footnote 906: This commission was not appointed

till 1551: see the present writer's _Cranmer_, pp.

280-4.]

[Footnote 907: 25 Henry VIII., c. 19. The first

suggestion appears to have been "to give the

Archbishop of Canterbury the seal of Chancery, and

pass bulls, dispensations and other provisions

under it" (_L. and P._, vii., 14; _cf._ vii., 57);

his title was changed from _Apostolicae Sedis

legatus_ to _Metropolitanus_ (_ibid._, vii.,

1555).]

Another act provided that charges of heresy must be supported by two

lay witnesses, and that indictments for that offence could only be made

by lay authorities. This, like the rest of Henry's anti-ecclesiastical

legislation, was based on popular clamour. On the 5th of March the

whole House of Commons, with the Speaker at their head, had waited on

the King at York Place and expatiated for three hours on the

oppressiveness of clerical jurisdiction. At length it was agreed that

eight temporal peers, eight representatives of the Lower House and

sixteen bishops "should discuss the matter and the King be umpire"[908]--a

repetition of the plan of 1529 and a very exact reflection of Henry's

methods and of the Church-and-State situation during the Reformation

Parliament.

[Footnote 908: _L. and P._, vii., 304, 393, 399;

the provision about two witnesses was in 1547

extended to treason.]

The final act of the session, which ended on 30th March, was a (p. 321)

constitutional innovation of the utmost importance. From the earliest

ages the succession to the crown had in theory been determined, first

by election, and then by hereditary right. In practice it had often

been decided by the barbarous arbitrament of war. For right is vague,

it may be disputed, and there was endless variety of opinion as to the

proper claimant to the throne if Henry should die. So vague right was

to be replaced by definite law, which could not be disputed, but

which, unlike right, could easily be changed. The succession was no

longer to be regulated by an unalterable principle, but by the popular

(or royal) will expressed in Acts of Parliament.[909] The first of a

long series of Acts of Succession was now passed to vest the succession

to the crown in the heirs of the King by Anne Boleyn; clauses were

added declaring that persons who impugned that marriage by writing,

printing, or other deed were guilty of treason, and those who impugned

it by words, of misprision. The Government proposal that both classes

of offenders should be held guilty of treason was modified by the

House of Commons.[910]

[Footnote 909: The succession to the crown was one

of the last matters affected by the process of

substituting written law for unwritten right which

began with the laws of Ethelbert of Kent. There had

of course been _ex post facto_ acts recognising

that the crown was vested in the successful

competitor.]

[Footnote 910: _L. and P._, vii., 51.]

On 23rd March, a week before the prorogation of Parliament, and seven

years after the divorce case had first begun, Clement gave sentence at

Rome pronouncing valid the marriage between Catherine and Henry.[911]

The decision produced not a ripple on the surface of English affairs;

Henry, writes Chapuys, took no account of it and was making as (p. 322)

good cheer as ever.[912] There was no reason why he should not.

While the imperialist mob at Rome after its kind paraded the streets

in crowds, shouting "Imperio et Espagne," and firing _feux-de-joie_

over the news, the imperialist agent was writing to Charles that the

judgment would not be of much profit, except for the Emperor's honour

and the Queen's justification, and was congratulating his master that

he was not bound to execute the sentence.[913] Flemings were tearing

down the papal censures from the doors of their churches,[914] and

Charles was as convinced as ever of the necessity of Henry's

friendship. He proposed to the Pope that some one should be sent from

Rome to join Chapuys in "trying to move the King from his error"; and

Clement could only reply that "he thought the embassy would have no

effect on the King, but that nothing would be lost by it, and it would

be a good compliment!"[915] Henry, however was less likely to be

influenced by compliments, good or bad, than by the circumstance that

neither Pope nor Emperor was in a position to employ any ruder

persuasive. There was none so poor as to reverence a Pope, and, when

Clement died six months later, the Roman populace broke into the

chamber where he lay and stabbed his corpse; they were with difficulty

prevented from dragging it in degradation through the streets.[916]

Such was the respect paid to the Supreme Pontiff in the Holy City, and

deference to his sentence was not to be expected in more distant

parts.

[Footnote 911: _Ibid._, vii., 362.]

[Footnote 912: _L. and P._, vii., 469.]

[Footnote 913: _Ibid._, vii., 368.]

[Footnote 914: _Ibid._, vii., 184.]

[Footnote 915: _Ibid._, vii., 804.]

[Footnote 916: _Ibid._, vii., 1262.]

Henry's political education was now complete; the events of the last

five years had proved to him the truth of the assertion, with (p. 323)

which he had started, that the Pope might do what he liked at Rome,

but that he also could do what he liked in England, so long as he

avoided the active hostility of the majority of his lay subjects. The

Church had, by its actions, shown him that it was powerless; the Pope

had proved the impotence of his spiritual weapons; and the Emperor had

admitted that he was both unable and unwilling to interfere. Henry had

realised the extent of his power, and the opening of his eyes had an

evil effect upon his character. Nothing makes men or Governments so

careless or so arbitrary as the knowledge that there will be no

effective opposition to their desires. Henry, at least, never grew

careless; his watchful eye was always wide open. His ear was always

strained to catch the faintest rumbling of a coming storm, and his

subtle intellect was ever on the alert to take advantage of every turn

in the diplomatic game. He was always efficient, and he took good care

that his ministers should be so as well. But he grew very arbitrary;

the knowledge that he could do so much became with him an irresistible

reason for doing it. Despotic power is twice cursed; it debases the

ruler and degrades the subject; and Henry's progress to despotism may

be connected with the rise of Thomas Cromwell, who looked to the Great

Turk as a model for Christian princes.[917] Cromwell became secretary

in May, 1534; in that month Henry's security was enhanced by the (p. 324)

definitive peace with Scotland,[918] and he set to work to enforce

his authority with the weapons which Parliament had placed in his

hands. Elizabeth Barton, and her accomplices, two Friars Observants,

two monks, and one secular priest, all attainted of treason by Act of

Parliament, were sent to the block.[919] Commissioners were sent

round, as Parliament had ordained, to enforce the oath of succession

throughout the land.[920] A general refusal would have stopped Henry's

career, but the general consent left Henry free to deal as he liked

with the exceptions. Fisher and More were sent to the Tower. They were

willing to swear to the succession, regarding that as a matter within

the competence of Parliament, but they refused to take the oath

required by the commissioners;[921] it contained, they alleged, a

repudiation of the Pope not justified by the terms of the statute. Two

cartloads of friars followed them to the Tower in June, and the Order

of Observants, in whose church at Greenwich Henry had been baptised

and married, and of whom in his earlier years he had written in terms

of warm admiration, was suppressed altogether.[922]

[Footnote 917: "The Lord Cromwell," says Bishop

Gardiner, "had once put in the King our late

sovereign lord's head, to take upon him to have his

will and pleasure regarded for a law; for that, he

said, was to be a very King," and he quoted the

_quod principi placuit_ of Roman civil law.

Gardiner replied to the King that "to make the laws

his will was more sure and quiet" and "agreeable

with the nature of your people". Henry preferred

Gardiner's advice (Foxe, ed. Townsend, vi., 46).]

[Footnote 918: _L. and P._, vii., 483, 647.]

[Footnote 919: _Ibid._, vii., 522.]

[Footnote 920: _Ibid._, vii., 665.]

[Footnote 921: _Ibid._, vii., 499.]

[Footnote 922: _Ibid._, vii., 841, 856. The order

had been particularly active in opposition to the

divorce (_ibid._, iv., 6156; v., 266.)]

In November Parliament[923] reinforced the Act of Succession by laying

down the precise terms of the oath, and providing that a certificate

of refusal signed by two commissioners was as effective as the

indictment of twelve jurors. Other acts empowered the King to repeal

by royal proclamation certain statutes regulating imports and exports.

The first-fruits and tenths, of which the Pope had been already (p. 325)

deprived, were now conferred on the King as a fitting ecclesiastical

endowment for the Supreme Head of the Church. That title, granted him

four years before by both Convocations, was confirmed by Act of

Parliament; its object was to enable the King as Supreme Head to

effect the "increase of virtue in Christ's Religion within this Realm

of England, and to repress and extirp all Errors, Heresies and other

Enormities, and Abuses heretofore used in the same". The Defender of

the Faith was to be armed with more than a delegate power; he was to

be supreme in himself, the champion not of the Faith of any one else,

but of his own; and the qualifying clause, "as far as the law of

Christ allows," was omitted. His orthodoxy must be above suspicion, or

at least beyond the reach of open cavil in England. So new treasons

were enacted, and any one who called the King a heretic, schismatic,

tyrant, infidel, or usurper, was rendered liable to the heaviest

penalty which the law could inflict. As an earnest of the royal and

parliamentary desire for an increase of virtue in religion, an act was

concurrently passed providing for the creation of a number of

suffragan bishops.[924]

[Footnote 923: _Ibid._, vii., 1377.]

[Footnote 924: These were not actually created till

1540; the way in which Henry VIII. sought statutory

authority for every conceivable thing is very

extraordinary. There seems no reason why he could

not have created these bishoprics without

parliamentary authority.]

Henry was now Pope in England with powers no Pope had possessed.[925]

The Reformation is variously regarded as the liberation of the (p. 326)

English Church from the Roman yoke it had long impatiently borne,

as its subjection to an Erastian yoke which it was henceforth, with

more or less patience, long to bear, or as a comparatively unimportant

assertion of a supremacy which Kings of England had always enjoyed.

The Church is the same Church, we are told, before and after the

change; if anything, it was Protestant before the Reformation, and

Catholic after. It is, of course, the same Church. A man may be

described as the same man before and after death, and the business of

a coroner's jury is to establish the identity; but it does not ignore

the vital difference. Even Saul and Paul were the same man. And the

identity of the Church before and after the legislation of Henry VIII.

covers a considerable number of not unimportant changes. It does not,

however, seem strictly accurate to say that Henry either liberated or

enslaved the Church. Rather, he substituted one form of despotism for

another, a sole for a dual control; the change, complained a reformer,

was merely a _translatio imperii_.[926] The democratic movement within

the Church had died away, like the democratic movements in national

and municipal politics, before the end of the fifteenth century. It

was never merry with the Church,[927] complained a Catholic in 1533,

since the time when bishops were wont to be chosen by the Holy Ghost

and by their Chapters.

[Footnote 925: With limitations, of course. Henry's

was only a _potestas jurisdictionis_ not a

_potestas ordinis_ (see Makower, _Const. Hist. of

the Church of England_, and the present writer's

_Cranmer_, pp. 83, 84, 95, 232, 233). Cranmer

acknowledged in the King also a _potestatem

ordinis_, just as Cromwell would have made him the

sole legislator in temporal affairs; Henry's

unrivalled capacity for judging what he could and

could not do saved him from adopting either

suggestion.]

[Footnote 926: _L. and P._, XIV., ii., p. 141.]

[Footnote 927: _Ibid._, vi., 797 [2];

a Venetian declared that Huguenotism was

"due to the abolition of the election of the

clergy" (Armstrong, _Wars of Religion_, p. 11).]

Since then the Church had been governed by a partnership between King

and Pope, without much regard for the votes of the shareholders. It

was not Henry who first deprived them of influence; neither did (p. 327)

he restore it. What he did was to eject his foreign partner,

appropriate his share of the profits, and put his part of the business

into the hands of a manager. First-fruits and tenths were described as

an intolerable burden; but they were not abolished; they were merely

transferred from the Pope to the King. Bishops became royal nominees,

pure and simple, instead of the joint nominees of King and Pope. The

supreme appellate jurisdiction in ecclesiastical causes was taken away

from Rome, but it was not granted the English Church to which in truth

it had never belonged.[928] Chancery, and not the Archbishop's Court,

was made the final resort for ecclesiastical appeals. The authority,

divided erstwhile between two, was concentrated in the hands of one;

and that one was thus placed in a far different position from that

which either had held before.

[Footnote 928: For one year, indeed, Cranmer

remained _legatus natus_, and by a strange anomaly

exercised a jurisdiction the source of which had

been cut off. Stokesley objected to Cranmer's use

of that style in order to escape a visitation of

his see, and Gardiner thought it an infringement of

the royal prerogative. It was abolished in the

following year.]

The change was analogous to that in Republican Rome from two consuls

to one dictator. In both cases the dictatorship was due to exceptional

circumstances. There had long been a demand for reform in the Church

in England as well as elsewhere, but the Church was powerless to

reform itself. The dual control was in effect, as dual controls often

are, a practical anarchy. The condition of the Church before the

Reformation may be compared with that of France before the Revolution.

In purely spiritual matters the Pope was supreme: the conciliar

movement of the fifteenth century had failed. The Pope had (p. 328)

gathered all powers to himself, in much the same way as the French

monarch in the eighteenth century had done; and the result was the

same, a formal despotism and a real anarchy. Pope and Monarch were

crushed by the weight of their own authority; they could not reform,

even when they wanted to. From 1500 to 1530 almost every scheme,

peaceful or bellicose, started in Europe was based on the plea that

its ultimate aim was the reform of the Church; and so it would have

continued, _vox et praeterea nihil_, had not the Church been galvanised

into action by the loss of half its inheritance.

In England the change from a dual to a sole control at once made that

control effective, and reform became possible. But it was a reform

imposed on the Church from without and by means of the exceptional

powers bestowed on the Supreme Head. Hence the burden of modern

clerical criticism of the Reformation. Objection is raised not so much

to the things that were done, as to the means by which they were

brought to pass, to the fact that the Church was forcibly reformed by

the State, and not freed from the trammels of Rome, and then left to

work out its own salvation. But such a solution occurred to few at

that time; the best and the worst of Henry's opponents opposed him on

the ground that he was divorcing the Church in England from the Church

universal. Their objection was to what was done more than to the way

in which it was done; and Sir Thomas More would have fought the

Reformation quite as strenuously had it been effected by the

Convocations of Canterbury and York. On the other side there was

equally little thought of a Reformation by clerical hands. Henry (p. 329)

and Cromwell carried on and developed the tradition of the Emperor

Frederick II. and Peter de Vinea,[929] of Philippe le Bel and

Pierre Dubois, of Lewis the Bavarian and Marsiglio of Padua[930] who

maintained the supremacy of the temporal over the spiritual power and

asserted that the clergy wielded no jurisdiction and only bore the

keys of heaven in the capacity of turnkeys.[931] It was a question of

the national State against the universal Church. The idea of a

National Church was a later development, the result and not the cause

of the Reformation.

[Footnote 929: The comparison has been drawn by

Huillard-Breholles in his _Vie et Correspondence de

Pierre de la Vigne_, Paris, 1865.]

[Footnote 930: Marsiglio's _Defensor Pacis_ was a

favourite book with Cromwell who lent a printer L20

to bring out an English edition of it in 1535 (see

the present writer in _D.N.B., s.v._ Marshall,

William). Marshall distributed twenty-four copies

among the monks of Charterhouse to show them how

the Christian commonwealth had been "unjustly

molested, vexed and troubled by the spiritual and

ecclesiastical tyrant". See also Maitland, _English

Law and the Renaissance_, pp. 14, 60, 61.]

[Footnote 931: _Defensor Pacis_, ii., 6.]

Henry's dictatorship was also temporary in character. His supremacy

over the Church was royal, and not parliamentary. It was he, and not

Parliament, who had been invested with a semi-ecclesiastical nature.

In one capacity he was head of the State, in another, head of the

Church. Parliament and Convocation were co-ordinate one with another,

and subordinate both to the King. The Tudors, and especially Elizabeth,

vehemently denied to their Parliaments any share in their ecclesiastical

powers. Their supremacy over the Church was their own, and, as a

really effective control, it died with them. As the authority of the

Crown declined, its secular powers were seized by Parliament; (p. 330)

its ecclesiastical powers fell into abeyance between Parliament and

Convocation. Neither has been able to vindicate an exclusive claim to

the inheritance; and the result of this dual claim to control has been

a state of helplessness, similar in some respects to that from which

the Church was rescued by the violent methods of Henry VIII.[932]

[Footnote 932: A much neglected but very important

constitutional question is whether the King _qua_

Supreme Head of the Church was limited by the same

statute and common law restrictions as he was _qua_

temporal sovereign. Gardiner raised the question in

a most interesting letter to Protector Somerset in

1547 (Foxe, vi., 42). It had been provided, as Lord

Chancellor Audley told Gardiner, that no spiritual

law and no exercise of the royal supremacy should

abate the common law or Acts of Parliament; but

within the ecclesiastical sphere there were no

limits on the King's authority. The Popes had not

been fettered, _habent omnia jura in suo scrinio_;

and their jurisdiction in England had been

transferred whole and entire to the King. Henry was

in fact an absolute monarch in the Church, a

constitutional monarch in the State; he could

reform the Church by injunction when he could not

reform the State by proclamation. There was

naturally a tendency to confuse the two capacities

not merely in the King's mind but in his

opponents'; and some of the objections to the

Stuarts' dispensing practice, which was exercised

chiefly in the ecclesiastical sphere, seem due to

this confusion. Parliament in fact, as soon as the

Tudors were gone, began to apply common law and

statute law limitations to the Crown's

ecclesiastical prerogative.]

Henry VIII. · 第 12 / 16 章