FROUDE'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND

Henry VIII · Introduction byW. Llewelyn Williams M. P. B. C. L. 

Volume One

First Published 1909

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[Illuminated Frontispiece]

CONSIDER HISTORY WITH THE BEGINNINGS OFIT STRETCHING DIMLY INTO THE REMOTE TIME;EMERGING DARKLY OVT OF THE MYSTERIOVS ETERNITY:THE TRVE EPIC POEM AND VNIVERSAL DIVINE SCRIPTVRE. .. --CARLYLE

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[Illuminated Title]

THE REIGN of HENRY the EIGHTH

by

JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE

VOLUME I. 

London & Toronto J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd. New York E. P. Dutton & Co

INTRODUCTION

James Anthony Froude was born at Dartington Rectory, the youngest son ofthe Archdeacon of Totnes, on April 23, 1818. His father was a clergyman ofthe old school, as much squire as parson. In the concluding chapter to his_History of England_, Froude wrote that "for a hundred and forty yearsafter the Revolution of 1688, the Church of England was able to fulfil withmoderate success the wholesome functions of a religious establishment. Theological doctrinalism passed out of fashion; and the clergy, merged asthey were in the body of the nation, and no longer endeavouring to elevatethemselves into a separate order, were occupied healthily in impressing ontheir congregations the meaning of duty and moral responsibility to God. "Of this sane and orthodox, but not over-spiritual, clergy, ArchdeaconFroude was an excellent and altogether wholesome type. He was a stiff Tory;his hatred of Dissent was so uncompromising that he would not have a copyof the _Pilgrim's Progress_ in the rectory. A stern, self-contained, reticent man, he never, in word of deed, confessed his affection for hisyoungest son. He was a good horseman, and was passionately fond of open-airexercises and especially of hunting. His one accomplishment was drawing, and his sketches in after years earned the praise of Ruskin. 

Cast in the same mould, but fashioned by different circumstances, thearchdeacon's eldest son, Richard Hurrell Froude, was a man of greaterintellectual brilliance and even more masterful character. He was one ofthe pioneers of the Oxford Movement, and it was only his early death thatdeposed him from his place of equality with Newman and Keble and Pusey. Anthony was a sickly child, and from his earliest years lacked the lovingcare of a mother. He was brought up with Spartan severity by his father andhis aunt. The most venial self-indulgence was regarded as criminal. Fromthe age of three he was inured to hardship by being ducked every morning ina trough of ice-cold water. Hurrell Froude felt no tenderness for theailing lad. Once, in order to rouse a manly spirit in his little brother, he took him by the heels, plunged him like another Achilles into a stream, and stirred with his head the mud at the bottom. Froude has been accused, and not without justice, of not feeling a proper aversion to acts ofcruelty. The horrible Boiling Act of Henry VIII. Excites neither disgustnor hatred in him; and he makes smooth excuses for the illegal tortures ofthe rack and the screw which were inflicted on prisoners by Elizabeth andher ministers. He had himself been reared in a hardy school; he had beentrained to be indifferent to pain. It may well be that his callousness inspeaking of Tudor cruelties is to be traced to the influences thatsurrounded his loveless childhood and youth. 

Hurrell Froude was the idol of his younger brothers. He was a man ofbrilliant parts, and a born leader of men. His hatred of Radicals andDissenters transcended even his father's dislike of them. His conception ofthe Church differed widely from that in which the archdeacon had beenreared. To him a clergyman was a priest who belonged to a sacerdotal caste, and who ought not "to merge himself in the body of the nation. " To him theReformation was an infamous crime, and Henry VIII. Was worse than theBluebeard of the nursery. His hero was Thomas à Becket. He wrote a sketchof his life and career, which he did not live to finish. His friendsill-advisedly published it after his death. His ideal ecclesiasticalstatesman of modern times was Archbishop Laud. Charles I. Was a martyr, andthe Revolution of 1688 an inglorious blunder. To the day of his death--inspite of the harsh discipline which he received at his hands in boyhood, inspite of wide divergence of opinion in later years in all matters secularand religious--Froude never ceased to worship at his brother's shrine. Outof regard for his memory, more than from any passionate personalconviction, he associated himself while at Oxford with the Anglicanmovement. His affectionate admiration for Newman, neither time nor changeserved to impair. If Carlyle was his prophet in later years, his influencehappily did not affect his style. That was based on the chaste model ofNewman. He owed his early friendship with Newman to that great man'sassociation with Hurrell Froude. Many years after, when Freeman hadvenomously accused him of "dealing stabs in the dark at a brother's almostforgotten fame"--poor Froude's offence was that he dared to write an essayon Thomas à Becket--he defended himself with rare emotion against thecharge. "I look back upon my brother, " he said, "as on the whole the mostremarkable man I have ever met in my life. I have never seen anyperson--not one--in whom, as I now think him, the excellences of intellectand character were combined in fuller measure. "

As Froude's powers developed and matured, and as his experience of theworld broadened, he cast away his brother's yoke, and reverted more to hisfather's school of thought. As his father was to him the ideal clergyman ofthe Church of England, so the Church before 1828 remained to him the modelof what an established religion should be. He was a thorough Erastian, whobelieved in the subordination of the Church to the state. He detestedtheological doctrinalism of all kinds; he revolted against the idea thatthe clergy should form a separate order. The pretensions of Whitgift andLaud, the High Anglican school of Keble and Pusey, the whole conception ofthe Church and the priesthood which underlay the Oxford Movement, werethings obnoxious to him. In a characteristic passage in the chapter on theMassacre of St. Bartholomew he reveals his hatred and distrust ofdogmatism. "Whenever the doctrinal aspect of Christianity has beenprominent above the practical, " he wrote, "whenever the first duty of thebeliever has been held to consist in holding particular opinions on thefunctions and nature of his Master, and only the second in obeying hisMaster's commands, then always, with a uniformity more remarkable than isobtained in any other historical phenomena, there have followed dissension, animosity, and in later ages bloodshed. Christianity, as a principle oflife, has been the most powerful check upon the passions of mankind. Christianity as a speculative system of opinion has converted them intomonsters of cruelty. "

Holding such decided views on doctrinalism, it might have been thought thatFroude would have visited all the warring sects of the sixteenth centurywith equal judgment. No Church was more doctrinal than that of Geneva; noCalvinist ever was more dogmatic than John Knox. But the men who fought thebattle of the Reformation in England and Scotland were, in the main, theCalvinists; and to Froude the Reformation was the beginning of a new andbetter era, when the yoke of the priest had been finally cast away. "Calvinism, " he said in one of his addresses at St. Andrews, "was thespirit which rises in revolt against untruth. " John Knox was too heroic afigure not to rouse the artistic sense in Froude. "There lies one, " saidthe Regent Morton over his coffin, "who never feared the face of mortalman. " Froude has made this epitaph the text of the noblest eulogy everdelivered on Knox. "No grander figure can be found, in the entire historyof the Reformation in this island, than that of Knox. " He surpassedCromwell and Burghley in integrity of purpose and in purity of methods. Hetowered above the Regent Murray in intellect, and he worked on a largerscale than Latimer. "His was the voice that taught the peasant of theLothians that he was a free man, the equal in the sight of God with theproudest peer or prelate that had trampled on his forefathers. He was theone antagonist whom Mary Stuart could not soften nor Maitland deceive. Heit was who had raised the poor commons of his country into a stern andrugged people, who might be hard, narrow, superstitious, and fanatical, butwho nevertheless were men whom neither king, noble, nor priest could forceagain to submit to tyranny. " Yet even here, Froude could not refrain fromquoting the sardonic comment of the English ambassador at Edinburgh: Knoxbehaved, said Randolph, "as though he were of God's privy council. "

It is certain, at least, that other reformers, who were not greatlyinferior to Knox in capacity, and not at all in piety and honesty, have notmet the same generous treatment at his hands. He sneers at Hooper becausehe had scruples about wearing episcopal robes at his consecration as Bishopof Worcester, though he himself in a famous passage asserts the anomalousposition of bishops in the Church of England. Hooper, as a Calvinist, wasin the right in objecting, and though the point upon which he took hisstand was nominally one of form, there lay behind it a protest against theAnglican conception of a bishop. He speaks slightingly of Ridley andFerrars, though he makes ample amends to them and to Hooper, when he comesto describe the manner of their death. To the reformers who fled from theMarian persecution, including men like Jewel and Grindal, he refers withscornful contempt, though he has no word of criticism to apply to Knox forretiring to England and to the continent when the flame of persecution wascertainly not more fierce. Latimer is one of his favourites, --a plain, practical man, not given to abstract speculation or theological subtleties, but one who was content to do his duty day by day without the fear of manbefore his eyes. Latimer, though he was looked upon as a Protestant in theearliest years of the English Reformation, believed in the Real Presence upto a short time before his death. But of all English ecclesiastics ThomasCranmer was perhaps most to Froude's liking. Cranmer was, like Froudehimself, an artist in words. The English liturgy owes its charm and beautyto his sense of style, his grace of expression, and his cultured piety. That he was a great man few will be found in these days to maintain; fewerstill will believe that he deserved the scathing invective of Macaulay. Butno one can read the account given by Froude of his last years withoutfeeling that the first Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury was neithersaint nor martyr. If ever there was one, he was a timeserver. He pronouncedthe divorce of Catherine of Arragon, though he had sworn fealty to thePope. He never raised a protest against any of the political murders ofHenry VIII. --with the notable exception of his courageous attempt to savehis friend, Thomas Cromwell. Even in that case, however, he lies under thesuspicion of having interfered through fear that his own fate was involvedin that of the _malleus monachorum_. In the days of Edward VI. He aimed atthe liberty, if not at the life, of Bonner and Gardiner, without semblanceof legal right: He recanted in the reign of Mary when he thought he couldpurchase his miserable life. It was only when all hope of pardon was pastthat he re-affirmed his belief in the reformed faith. Indeed, he waiteduntil the day of his execution before withdrawing his recantation, andconfounded his enemies on the way to the stake. To a master of dramaticnarrative the last scene of Cranmer's life came as a relief and aninspiration. "So perished Cranmer, " wrote Froude, in a memorable passage:"he was brought out, with the eyes of his soul blinded, to make sport forhis enemies, and in his death he brought upon them a wider destruction thanhe had effected by his teaching while alive. Pole was appointed the nextday to the See of Canterbury; but in other respects the court hadover-reached themselves by their cruelty. Had they been contented to acceptthe recantation, they would have left the archbishop to die broken-hearted, pointed at by the finger of pitying scorn; and the Reformation would havebeen disgraced in its champion. They were tempted, by an evil spirit ofrevenge, into an act unsanctioned even by their own bloody laws; and theygave him an opportunity of writing his name in the roll of martyrs. Theworth of a man must be measured by his life, not by his failure under asingle and peculiar peril. The Apostle, though forewarned, denied hisMaster on the first alarm of danger; yet that Master, who knew his naturein its strength and its infirmity, chose him for the rock on which he wouldbuild his Church. "

With this conscious and avowed bias in favour of undogmatic Christianity, Froude came to write the story of the transition of England from a Catholicto a Protestant country. He was not without sympathy with the old order ofthings. We cannot but feel a thrill as we read his incomparable descriptionof the change which was effected in men's thoughts and ideas by thetranslation of the mediæval into the modern world? "For, indeed, a changewas coming upon the world, the meaning and direction of which even still ishidden from us, a change from era to era. The paths trodden by thefootsteps of ages were broken up; old things were passing away, and thefaith and the life of ten centuries were dissolving like a dream. Chivalrywas dying; the abbey and the castle were soon together to crumble intoruins; and all the forms, desires, beliefs, convictions, of the old worldwere passing away, never to return. A new continent had risen up beyond thewestern sea. The floor of heaven, inlaid with stars, had sunk back into aninfinite abyss of immeasurable space; and the firm earth itself, unfixedfrom its foundations, was seen to be but a small atom in the awful vastnessof the universe. In the fabric of habit which they had so laboriously builtfor themselves, mankind were to remain no longer. And now it is allgone--like an unsubstantial pageant faded; and between us and the oldEnglish there lies a gulf of mystery which the prose of the historian willnever adequately bridge. They cannot come to us, and our imagination canbut feebly penetrate to them. Only among the aisles of the cathedral, onlyas we gaze upon their silent figures sleeping on their tombs, some faintconceptions float before us of what these men were when they were alive;and perhaps in the sound of church bells, that peculiar creation ofmediæval age, which falls upon the ear like the echo of a vanished world. "Froude was once asked what was the greatest and most essential quality ofan historian. He replied that it was imagination. It was a true and a justsaying, and Froude himself possessed the faculty in abundance. 

It was not only with the old order that Froude showed his sympathy. He isseldom ungenerous in his references to individual Catholics, howevermistaken in his sight their opinions may have been. With Wolsey and Warham, Fisher and More, even with Gardiner and Bonner he deals fairly and withsome amount of real sympathy. The heroic death of Campian moves him to pityjust as much as the death of Latimer; the strenuous labours of FatherParsons to overthrow Elizabeth and Protestantism failed to remove himbeyond the pale of Froude's charitable judgment. One English Catholic alonewas reserved for the historian's harsh and sometimes petulant criticism. For Cardinal Pole Froude felt the angriest contempt. He was descended fromthe blood royal, both of England and of Wales. On his father's side he wasdescended in direct line from the ancient princes of Powis; on his mother'sfrom the Plantagenets and the Nevilles. He was the most learned andillustrious Englishman of his age. He had stood high in King Henry'sfavour; he was destined for the greatest offices in the state. He was notwithout natural ambition. Yet he forfeited all that he had--the favour ofhis prince, the society of his mother whom he loved, and the kindred whowere proud of him, the hope of promotion and of power, his friends, hishome, and his country, for conscience' sake. He remained true to theancient faith in which he was reared. With unerring instinct he foresawthat, once England was severed from the Papacy, it would be impossible forking or parliament to stem the flood of the Reformation. For twenty yearshe remained an exile on the continent. He returned an old and broken man, to witness the overthrow of his cherished plans. He was repudiated by thePope whose authority he had sacrificed everything to maintain, and in hisold age he suffered the humiliation of being accused of heresy in the courtof Rome. He died the same day as Mary died, with the knowledge that all hislife's labours and sacrifices were come to naught, and that the dominion ofthe Roman Church in England was gone for ever. Froude saw none of thepathos or tragedy of Pole's life. To him the cardinal was a renegade, atraitor to his country, a mercenary of the Pope, a foreign potentate, a"hysterical dreamer, " who vainly imagined that he was "the champion ofheaven, and the destroyer of heresy. "

Froude was, above all, an Englishman. His strongest sympathies went out tothe "God's Englishmen" of Elizabeth's reign, who broke the power of Romeand Spain, and who made England supreme in Europe. In his first chapter hedescribes the qualities of Englishmen with a zest and gusto that drew thecomment from Carlyle that "this seems to me exaggerated: what we call JohnBullish. " He described them as "a sturdy, high-hearted race, sound in bodyand fierce in spirit which, under the stimulus of those great shins ofbeef, their common diet, were the wonder of the age. " Carlyle's advice whenhe read this passage in proof was characteristic:--"Modify a little:Frederick the Great was brought up on beer-sops; Robert Burns on oatmealporridge; and Mahomet and the Caliphs conquered the world on barley meal. "But the passage stood unmodified, in spite of Froude's regard for hismaster. 

How this fierce and turbulent people fought their way to world-wide empirewas a problem which Froude thought he was able to solve. It was, in themain, because they broke down the power of the priests, and insisted on thesupremacy of state over Church. Therefore all his filial affection, hispatriotism, and his ecclesiastical prejudices were arrayed on the sameside. If history be an exact science, then Froude can lay no claim to thetitle of historian. He was a brilliant advocate, a man of letters endowedwith a matchless style, writing of matters which interested him deeply, andin the investigation of which he spent twenty years of his life. Froudehimself would have been the first to repudiate the idea that history isphilosophy teaching by examples, or that an historian has necessarily agreater insight into the problems of the present than any other observantstudent of affairs. "Gibbon, " he once wrote, "believed that the era ofconquerors was at an end. Had he lived out the full life of man, he wouldhave seen Europe at the feet of Napoleon. But a few years ago we believedthe world had grown too civilised for war, and the Crystal Palace in HydePark was to be the inauguration of a new era. Battles, bloody asNapoleon's, are now the familiar tale of every day; and the arts which havemade the greatest progress are the arts of destruction. "

It is absurd to attack Froude on the ground that he was biassed. No man hasever yet written a living history without being biassed. Thucydidesdetested the radicalism of Cleon as heartily as Gibbon hated theChristianity of Rome. It was once the fashion of the Oxford school to decryFroude as being unworthy of the name of historian. Stubbs, indeed, did paypublic tribute to Froude's "great work, " but he stood almost alone of hisschool. Freeman for many years pursued and persecuted Froude with apersistent malevolence which happily has no parallel in the story ofEnglish scholarship. It is not necessary in this place to do more thanrefer to that unpleasant episode. Since the publication of the brilliantvindication of Froude in Mr. Herbert Paul's _Life_, it would be superfluousto go into the details of that unhappy controversy. The only differencebetween Froude and other historians is that Froude's partisanship is alwaysobvious. He was not more favourable to Henry VIII. Than Stubbs was toThomas à Becket. But Froude openly avowed his preferences and his dislikes. Catholicism was to him "a dying superstition, " Protestantism "a livingtruth. " Freeman went further, and charged Froude with having written ahistory which was not "_un livre de bonne joy. _" It is only necessary torecall the circumstances under which the _History_ was written to disposeof that odious charge. In order to obtain material for his _History_, Froude spent years of his life in the little Spanish village of Simancas. "I have worked in all, " he said in his Apologia, "through nine hundredvolumes of letters, notes, and other papers, private and official, in fivelanguages and in different handwritings. I am not rash enough to say that Ihave never misread a word, or overlooked a passage of importance. I professonly to have dealt with my materials honestly to the best of my ability. "Few, indeed, have had to encounter such difficulties as met Froude in hisexploration of the archives at Simancas. "Often at the end of a page, " hewrote many years after, "I have felt as after descending a precipice, andhave wondered how I got down. I had to cut my way through a jungle, for noone had opened the road for me. I have been turned into rooms piled to thewindow-sill with bundles of dust-coloured despatches, and told to make thebest of it. Often have I found the sand glistening on the ink where it hadbeen sprinkled when a page was turned. There the letter had lain, neverlooked at again since it was read and put away. " Of these difficulties nota trace is discoverable in Froude's easy and effortless narrative. When hewas approaching the completion of his _History_, he vowed that his accountof the Armada should be as interesting as a novel. He succeeded not onlywith that portion of his task, but with all the stirring story that he setout to narrate. But the ease of his style only concealed the real painswhich he had taken. Of Freeman's charge Froude has long been honourablyacquitted. The Simancas MSS. Have since been published in the Rolls Series, and Mr. Martin Hume, in his Introduction, has paid his tribute to the care, accuracy, and good faith of their first transcriber. Long before thistestimony could be given, Scottish historians who disagreed with Froude'sconclusions on many points, --men such as Skelton and Burton--had beenprofoundly impressed with the care, skill, and conscientiousness with whichFroude handled the mass of tangled materials relating to the history ofScotland. 

This does not mean that Froude is free from minor inaccuracies, or that heis innocent of graver faults which flowed from his abundant quality ofimagination. He constantly quotes a sentence inaccurately in his text, while it is accurately transcribed in a footnote. He is careless in matterswhich are important to students of Debrett, as for instance, heindiscriminately describes Lord Howard as Lord William Howard and LordHoward. But Froude was sometimes guilty of something worse than thesetrivial "howlers. " Lecky exposed, with calm ruthlessness, some of Froude'sexaggerations--to call them by no worse name--in his _Story of the Englishin Ireland_. When his _Erasmus_ was translated into Dutch, the countrymenof Erasmus accused him of constant, if not deliberate, inaccuracy. LordCarnarvon once sent Froude to South Africa as an informal specialcommissioner. When he returned to this country he wrote an article on theSouth African problem in the _Quarterly Review_. Sir Bartle Frere, who knewSouth Africa as few men did, said of it that it was an "essay in which forwhole pages a truth expressed in brilliant epigrams alternates withmistakes or misstatements which would scarcely be pardoned in a special warcorrespondent hurriedly writing against time. " So dangerous is the qualityof imagination in a writer!

Truth to tell, Froude was a literary man with a fondness for historicalinvestigation, and an artist's passion for the dramatic in life and story. He wrote with a purpose--that purpose being to defend the EnglishReformation against the attacks of the neo-Catholic-Anglicans, under whoseinfluence he had himself been for a time in his youth. To him, therefore, Henry VIII. Was "the majestic lord who broke the bonds of Rome. " This isnot the occasion, nor is the present writer the man, to analyse thatcomplex and masterful personality. Froude started to defend the EnglishReformation against the vile charge that it was the outcome of kingly lust. That charge he has finally dispelled. Henry VIII. Was not the monster thatLingard painted. He beheaded two queens, but few will be found to assertto-day that either Anne Boleyn or Catherine Howard were innocent martyrs. People must agree to differ to the crack of doom as to the justice ofCatherine's divorce. It is one of those questions which different men willcontinue to answer in different ways. But one thing is abundantly clear. IfHenry was actuated merely by passion for Anne Boleyn, he would scarcelyhave waited for years before putting Queen Catherine away. Henry divorcedAnne of Cleves, but Anne, who survived the dissolution of her marriage andremained in England for twenty years, made no complaint of her treatment, and she has had no champions either among Catholic or Protestant writers. Her divorce is only remembered as the occasion of the downfall of thegreatest statesman of his age, Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex. But in hiseagerness to proclaim the truth, Froude went on to defend a paradox. Oncefree from the charge of lust, --and compared with Francis of France orCharles V. , Henry was a continent man--Henry became to Froude the idealmonarch. 

Some one has said that Henry VIII. Was the greatest king that ever lived, because he always got his own way. If that be the test, then Henry wasindeed "every inch a king. " He broke with Rome; he deposed the Pope fromhis supremacy over England; he dissolved the monasteries; he sent thenoblest and wisest in England to the scaffold; he reduced Wales to law andorder and gave her a constitution; he married and unmarried as he liked; hedisposed of the succession to the throne of England by his will; and hispeople never murmured. Only once, when the Pilgrimage of Grace broke out, was his throne in any danger, and that insurrection he easily suppressed. He made war with France; he invaded Scotland more than once, and every timewith striking success. He played his vigorous part in European politics, and at his death he left his realm inviolate. It is an amazing record, which might well dazzle a writer of Froude's temperament and training. Butthere are dark shades in the picture, which Froude was content to makelittle of, if not to ignore. He is fond of contrasting Henry's way withconspirators with that of his daughter Elizabeth. He sneers at her"tenderness" towards high-born traitors, and never ceases to reproach herwith her one act of repression after the Yorkshire rising. But he had not aword to say against the tyrannical murders of Henry VIII. Elizabeth trulyboasted that she never punished opinion: Henry sent to the scaffold bettermen than himself for holding academical opinions contrary to his own. Cardinal Fisher may have been--after the publication of Chappuys's lettersit is not possible to deny that he was--technically guilty of treason. Buthe was a saint and an old man past eighty, and "the earth on the edge ofthe grave was already crumbling under his feet. " The king spared neitherage nor worth nor innocence. He had been the familiar friend of More; hehad walked through his gardens at Chelsea leaning on his arm; More had beenhis chancellor; he was still the greatest of his subjects; while franklyadmitting that he differed in opinion from the king on the question of theroyal supremacy, he promised that he would not try to influence others. Henry was inexorable. He not only condemned him to die a traitor'sdeath, --he added a callous message, which still rouses the indignation ofevery generous soul, that he should "not use many words on the scaffold. "Thomas Cromwell had served him as few ministers have served a king; to himwas due--or, at least, he was the capable instrument of--the policy whichhas given distinction to Henry's reign; but he was delivered over to hisenemies when the king's caprice had shifted to another quarter. Even Froudefinds it difficult to excuse the execution of More and Cromwell. But, having once made up his mind to make a hero of Henry, he goes on with itbravely to the end. He hides nothing, he excuses nothing, he extenuatesnothing. Neither the death of the aged Countess of Salisbury or of thegallant Earl of Surrey, nor the illegal imprisonment of the aged Norfolk, the hero of Flodden, shakes his faith in his hero-king. He even relates, with minute detail, how a few days before the king's death, four poorpersons, one of whom was a tailor, were burnt at the stake for denying theReal Presence. But his final comment on it all was: "His personal faultswere great, and he shared, besides them, in the errors of his age; but fardeeper blemishes would be but scars upon the features of a sovereign who intrying times sustained nobly the honour of the English name, and carriedthe commonwealth securely through the hardest crisis in its history. "

When a young man Froude had been elected Fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. This entailed his taking holy orders, though he does not seem to haveregularly performed the duties of a clergyman. In 1849 he published hisfirst book, _The Nemesis of Faith_, now happily forgotten. It raised animmediate commotion. It was denounced as heretical, and the senior tutor ofExeter burnt it during a lecture in the College Hall. Froude resigned hisFellowship, and his connection with the university was severed forthirty-three years. He was one of the first to take advantage of thealteration of the law which enabled a clergyman to resign his orders. In1892 he went back to Oxford as Regius Professor of Modern History. "Thetemptation of going back to Oxford in a respectable way, " he said, "was toomuch for me. " He died on October 20, 1894, and on his tombstone he issimply described, by his own wish, as Professor of Modern History in theUniversity of Oxford. 

The writer is indebted for information with regard to Froude's life to Mr. Pollard's article in the _Dictionary of National Biography_, and to Mr. Herbert Paul's admirable _Life of Froude_ (Pitman). 

W. LLEWELYN WILLIAMS. 

_November_ 16, 1908. 

The following is a list of the published works of J. A. Froude:

 Life of St. Neot (Lives of the English Saints, edited by J. H. Newman), 1844; Shadows of the Clouds (Tales), by Zeta (_pseud. _), 1847; A Sermon (on 2 Cor. Vii. 10) preached at St. Mary's Church on the Death of the Rev. George May Coleridge, 1847; Article on Spinoza (_Oxford and Cambridge Review_), 1847; The Nemesis of Faith (Tale), 1849; England's Forgotten Worthies (_Westminster Review_), 1852; Book of Job (_Westminster Review)_, 1853; Poems of Matthew Arnold (_Westminster Review_), 1854; Suggestions on the Best Means of Teaching English History (Oxford Essays, etc. ), 1855; History of England, 12 vols. , 1856-70; The Influence of the Reformation on the Scottish Character, 1865; Inaugural Address delivered to the University of St. Andrews, March 19, 1869, 1869; Short Studies on Great Subjects, 1867, 2 vols. , series 2-4, 1871-83 (articles from _Fraser's Magazine, Westminster Review_, etc. ); The Cat's Pilgrimage, 1870; Calvinism: Address at St. Andrews, 1871; The English in Ireland, 3 vols. , 1872-74; Bunyan (English Men of Letters), 1878; Cæsar: a Sketch, 1879; Two Lectures on South Africa, 1880; Thomas Carlyle (a history of the first forty years of his life, etc. ), 2 vols. , 1882; Luther: a Short Biography, 1883; Thomas Carlyle (a history of his life in London, 1834-81), 2 vols. , 1884; Oceana, 1886; The English in the West Indies, 1888; Liberty and Property: an Address [1888]; The Two Chiefs of Dunboy, 1889; Lord Beaconsfield (a Biography), 1890; The Divorce of Catherine of Aragon, 1891; The Spanish Story of the Armada, 1892; Life and Letters of Erasmus, 1894; English Seamen in the Sixteenth Century, 1895; Lectures on the Council of Trent, 1896; My Relations with Carlyle, 1903. 

 EDITED:--Carlyle's Reminiscences, 1881; Mrs. Carlyle's Letters, 1883. 

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER

 I. SOCIAL CONDITION OF ENGLAND IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY

 II. THE LAST YEARS OF THE ADMINISTRATION OF WOLSEY. 

 III. THE PARLIAMENT OF 1529. 

 IV. CHURCH AND STATE. 

 V. MARRIAGE OF HENRY AND ANNE BOLEYN. 

 VI. THE PROTESTANTS. 

 VII. THE LAST EFFORTS OF DIPLOMACY. 

 NOTES. 

HENRY VIII

CHAPTER I

SOCIAL CONDITION OF ENGLAND IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY

In periods like the present, when knowledge is every day extending, and thehabits and thoughts of mankind are perpetually changing under the influenceof new discoveries, it is no easy matter to throw ourselves back into atime in which for centuries the European world grew upon a single type, inwhich the forms of the father's thoughts were the forms of the son's, andthe late descendant was occupied in treading into paths the footprints ofhis distant ancestors. So absolutely has change become the law of ourpresent condition, that it is identified with energy and moral health; tocease to change is to lose place in the great race; and to pass away fromoff the earth with the same convictions which we found when we entered it, is to have missed the best object for which we now seem to exist. 

It has been, however, with the race of men as it has been with the planetwhich they inhabit. As we look back over history, we see times of changeand progress alternating with other times when life and thought havesettled into permanent forms; when mankind, as if by common consent, haveceased to seek for increase of knowledge, and, contented with what theypossess, have endeavoured to make use of it for purposes of moralcultivation. Such was the condition of the Greeks through many ages beforethe Persian war; such was that of the Romans till the world revenged itselfupon its conquerors by the introduction among them of the habits of theconquered; and such again became the condition of Europe when the Northernnations grafted the religion and the laws of the Western empire on theirown hardy natures, and shaped out that wonderful spiritual and politicalorganisation which remained unshaken for a thousand years. 

The aspirant after sanctity in the fifteenth century of the Christian erafound a model which he could imitate in detail in the saint of the fifth. The gentleman at the court of Edward IV. Or Charles of Burgundy couldimagine no nobler type of heroism than he found in the stories of KingArthur's knights. The forms of life had become more elaborate--the surfaceof it more polished--but the life itself remained essentially the same; itwas the development of the same conception of human excellence; just as thelast orders of Gothic architecture were the development of the first, fromwhich the idea had worked its way till the force of it was exhausted. 

A condition of things differing alike both outwardly and inwardly from thatinto which a happier fortune has introduced ourselves, is necessarilyobscure to us. In the alteration of our own character, we have lost the keywhich would interpret the characters of our fathers, and the great men evenof our own English history before the Reformation seem to us almost likethe fossil skeletons of another order of beings. Some broad conclusions asto what they were are at least possible to us, however; and we are able todetermine, with tolerable certainty, the social condition of the people ofthis country, such as it was before the movements of the sixteenth century, and during the process of those movements. 

The extent of the population can only be rudely conjectured. A rough censuswas taken at the time of the Armada, when it was found to be somethingunder five millions; but anterior to this I can find no authority on whichI can rely with any sort of confidence. It is my impression, however, froma number of reasons--each in itself insignificant, but which taken togetherleave little doubt upon my mind--that it had attained that number by agrowth so slow as to be scarcely perceptible, and had nearly approached toit many generations before. Simon Fish, in _The Supplication ofBeggars_, [1] says that the number of households in England in 1531 was520, 000. His calculation is of the most random kind; for he rates thenumber of parishes at 52, 000, with ten households on an average in eachparish. A mistake so preposterous respecting the number of parishes showsthe great ignorance of educated men upon the subject. The ten households ineach parish may, probably (in some parts of the country), have been acorrect computation; but this tells us little with respect to the aggregatenumbers, for the households were very large--the farmers, and the gentlemenalso, usually having all the persons whom they employed residing undertheir own roof. Neither from this, therefore, nor from any other positivestatement which I have seen, can I gather any conclusion that may bedepended upon. But when we remember the exceeding slowness with which thepopulation multiplied in a time in which we can accurately measure it--thatis to say, from 1588 to the opening of the last century--undercircumstances in every way more favourable to an increase, I think we mayassume that the increase was not so great between 1500 and 1588, and that, previous to 1500, it did not more than keep pace with the waste from civiland foreign war. The causes, indeed, were wholly wanting which lead to arapid growth of numbers. Numbers now increase with the increase ofemployment and with the facilities which are provided by the modern systemof labour for the establishment of independent households. At present, anyable-bodied unskilled labourer earns, as soon as he has arrived at man'sestate, as large an amount of wages as he will earn at any subsequent time;and having no connection with his employer beyond the receiving the dueamount of weekly money from him, and thinking himself as well able to marryas he is likely to be, he takes a wife, and is usually the father of afamily before he is thirty. Before the Reformation, not only were earlymarriages determinately discouraged, but the opportunity for them did notexist. A labourer living in a cottage by himself was a rare exception tothe rule; and the work of the field was performed generally, as it now isin the large farms in America and Australia, by servants who lived in thefamilies of the squire or the farmer, and who, while in that position, commonly remained single, and married only when by prudence they had saveda sufficient sum to enable them to enter some other position. 

Checked by circumstances of this kind, population would necessarily remainalmost stationary, and a tendency to an increase was not of itself regardedby the statesmen of the day as any matter for congratulation or as anyevidence of national prosperity. Not an increase of population, which wouldfacilitate production and beat down wages by competition, but the increaseof the commonwealth, the sound and healthy maintenance of the populationalready existing, were the chief objects which the government proposed toitself; and although Henry VIII. Carefully nursed his manufactures, thereis sufficient proof in the grounds alleged for the measures to which heresorted, that there was little redundancy of occupation. 

In a statute, for instance, for the encouragement of the linenmanufactures, it is said[2] that--"The King's Highness, calling to his mostblessed remembrance the great number of idle people daily increasingthroughout this his Realm, supposeth that one great cause thereof is by thecontinued bringing into the same the great number of wares and merchandisemade, and brought out and from, the parts beyond the sea into this hisRealm, ready wrought by manual occupation; amongst the which wares one kindof merchandise in great quantity, which is linen cloth of divers sorts madein divers countries beyond the sea, is daily conveyed into this Realm;which great quantity of linen cloth so brought is consumed and spent withinthe same; by reason whereof not only the said strange countries where thesaid linen cloth is made, by the policy and industry of making and vendingthe same are greatly enriched; and a marvellous great number of theirpeople, men, women, and children, are set on work and occupation, and keptfrom idleness, to the great furtherance and advancement of theircommonwealth; but also contrariwise the inhabitants and subjects of thisRealm, for lack of like policy and industry, are compelled to buy all ormost part of the linen cloth consumed in the same, amounting to inestimablesums of money. And also the people of this Realm, as well men as women, which should and might be set on work, by exercise of like policy and craftof spinning, weaving, and making of cloth, lies now in idleness andotiosity, to the high displeasure of Almighty God, great diminution of theKing's people, and extreme ruin, decay, and impoverishment of this Realm. Therefore, for reformation of these things, the King's most Royal Majestyintending, like a most virtuous Prince, to provide remedy in the premises;nothing so much coveting as the increase of the Commonwealth of this hisRealm, with also the virtuous exercise of his most loving subjects andpeople, and to avoid that most abominable sin of idleness out of the Realm, hath, by the advice and consent of his Lords and Commons in Parliamentassembled, ordained and enacted that every person occupying land fortillage, shall for every sixty acres which he hath under the plough, sowone quarter of an acre in flax or hemp. "

This Act was designed immediately to keep the wives and children of thepoor in work in their own houses;[3] but it leaves no doubt thatmanufactures in England had not of themselves that tendency toself-development which would encourage an enlarging population. The woollenmanufactures similarly appear, from the many statutes upon them, to havebeen vigorous at a fixed level, but to have shown no tendency to risebeyond that level. With a fixed market and a fixed demand, productioncontinued uniform. 

A few years subsequent, indeed, to the passing of the Act which I havequoted, a very curious complaint is entered in the statute book, from thesurface of which we should gather, that so far from increasing, manufactures had alarmingly declined. The fact mentioned may bear anothermeaning, and a meaning far more favourable to the state of the country;although, if such a phenomenon were to occur at the present time, it couldadmit of but one interpretation. In the 18th and 19th of the 32nd of HenryVIII. , all the important towns in England, from the Tweed to the Land'sEnd, are stated, one by one, to have fallen into serious decay. Usuallywhen we meet with language of this kind, we suppose it to mean nothing morethan an awakening to the consciousness of evils which had long existed, andwhich had escaped notice only because no one was alive to them. In thepresent instance, however, the language was too strong and too detailed toallow of this explanation; and the great body of the English townsundoubtedly were declining in wealth and in the number of theirinhabitants. "Divers and many beautiful houses of habitation, " thesestatutes say, "built in tyme past within their walls and liberties, now arefallen down and decayed, and at this day remain unre-edified, and do lie asdesolate and vacant grounds, many of them nigh adjoining to theHigh-streets, replenished with much uncleanness and filth, with pits, sellers, and vaults lying open and uncovered, to the great perill anddanger of the inhabitants and other the King's subjects passing by thesame; and some houses be very weak and feeble, ready to fall down, andtherefore dangerous to pass by, to the great decay and hinderance of thesaid boroughs and towns. "[4]

At present, the decay of a town implies the decay of the trade of the town;and the decay of all towns simultaneously would imply a general collapse ofthe trade of the whole country. Walled towns, however, before theReformation, existed for other purposes than as the centre points ofindustry: they existed for the protection of property and life: andalthough it is not unlikely that the agitation of the Reformation itselfdid to some degree interrupt the occupation of the people, yet I believethat the true account of the phenomenon which then so much disturbed theparliament, is, that one of their purposes was no longer required; thetowns flagged for a time because the country had become secure. The woollenmanufacture in Worcestershire was spreading into the open country, [5] and, doubtless, in other counties as well; and the "beautiful houses" which hadfallen into decay, were those which, in the old times of insecurity, hadbeen occupied by wealthy merchants and tradesmen, who were now enabled, bya strong and settled government, to dispense with the shelter of lockedgates and fortified walls, and remove their residences to more convenientsituations. It was, in fact, the first symptom of the impending socialrevolution. Two years before the passing of this Act, the magnificentHengrave Hall, in Suffolk, had been completed by Sir Thomas Kitson, "mercerof London, "[6] and Sir Thomas Kitson was but one of many of the risingmerchants who were now able to root themselves on the land by the side ofthe Norman nobility, first to rival, and then slowly to displace them. 

This mighty change, however, was long in silent progress before it began totell on the institutions of the country. When city burghers bought estates, the law insisted jealously on their accepting with them all the feudalobligations. Attempts to use the land as "a commodity" were, as we shallpresently see, angrily repressed; while, again, in the majority ofinstances, such persons endeavoured, as they do at present, to cover therecent origin of their families by adopting the manners of the nobles, instead of transferring the habits of the towns to the parks and chases ofthe English counties. The old English organisation maintained its fullactivity; and the duties of property continued to be for another centurymore considered than its rights. 

Turning, then, to the tenure of land--for if we would understand thecondition of the people, it is to this point that our first attention mustbe directed--we find that through the many complicated varieties of itthere was one broad principle which bore equally upon every class, that theland of England must provide for the defence of England. The feudal system, though practically modified, was still the organising principle of thenation, and the owner of land was bound to military service for his countrywhenever occasion required. Further, the land was to be so administered, that the accustomed number of families supported by it should not bediminished, and that the State should suffer no injury from thecarelessness or selfishness of the owners. [7] Land never was privateproperty in that personal sense of property in which we speak of a thing asour own, with which we may do as we please; and in the administration ofestates, as indeed in the administration of all property whatsoever, dutyto the State was at all times supposed to override private interest orinclination. Even tradesmen, who took advantage of the fluctuations of themarket, were rebuked by parliament for "their greedy and covetous minds, ""as more regarding their own singular lucre and profit than the commonwealof the Realm;"[8] and although in an altered world, neither industry norenterprise will thrive except under the stimulus of self-interest, we mayadmire the confidence which in another age expected every man to prefer theadvantage of the community to his own. All land was held upon a strictlymilitary principle. It was the representative of authority, and the holderor the owner took rank in the army of the State according to the nature ofhis connection with it. It was first broadly divided among the greatnobility holding immediately under the crown, who, above and beyond theownership of their private estates, were the Lords of the Fee throughouttheir presidency, and possessed in right of it the services of knights andgentlemen who held their manors under them, and who followed their standardin war. Under the lords of manors, again, small freeholds and copyholdswere held of various extent, often forty shilling and twenty shillingvalue, tenanted by peasant occupiers, who thus, on their own land, lived asfree Englishmen, maintaining by their own free labour themselves and theirfamilies. There was thus a descending scale of owners, each of whompossessed his separate right, which the law guarded and none might violate;yet no one of whom, again, was independent of an authority higher thanhimself; and the entire body of the English free possessors of the soil wasinterpenetrated by a coherent organisation which converted them into aperpetually subsisting army of soldiers. The extent of land which was heldby the petty freeholders was very large, and the possession of it wasjealously treasured; the private estates of the nobles and gentlemen wereeither cultivated by their own servants, or let out, as at present, to freetenants; or (in earlier times) were occupied by villains, a class who, without being bondmen, were expected to furnish further services than thoseof the field, services which were limited by the law, and recognised by anoutward ceremony, a solemn oath and promise from the villain to his lord. Villanage, in the reign of Henry VIII. , had practically ceased. The name ofit last appears upon the statute book in the early years of the reign ofRichard II. , when the disputes between villains and their liege lords ontheir relative rights had furnished matter for cumbrous lawsuits, and bygeneral consent the relation had merged of itself into a more liberal form. Thus serfdom had merged or was rapidly merging into free servitude; but itdid not so merge that labouring men, if they pleased, were allowed to livein idleness. Every man was regimented somewhere; and although thepeasantry, when at full age, were allowed, under restrictions, their ownchoice of masters, yet the restrictions both on masters and servants wereso severe as to prevent either from taking advantage of the necessities ofthe other, or from terminating through caprice or levity, or for anyinsufficient reason, a connection presumed to be permanent. [9]

Through all these arrangements a single aim is visible, that every man inEngland should have his definite place and definite duty assigned to him, and that no human being should be at liberty to lead at his own pleasure anunaccountable existence. The discipline of an army was transferred to thedetails of social life, and it issued in a chivalrous perception of themeaning of the word duty, and in the old characteristic spirit of Englishloyalty. 

From the regulations with respect to land, a coarser advantage was alsoderived, of a kind which at the present time will be effectivelyappreciated. It is a common matter of dispute whether landed estates shouldbe large or small; whether it is better that the land should be dividedamong small proprietors, cultivating their own ground, or that it shouldfollow its present tendency, and be shared by a limited and constantlydiminishing number of wealthy landlords. The advocates for a peasantproprietary tell us truly, that a landed monopoly is dangerous; that thepossession of a spot of ground, though it be but a few acres, is the bestsecurity for loyalty, giving the state a pledge for its owner, and creatingin the body of the nation a free, vigorous, and manly spirit. The advocatesfor the large estates tell us, that the masses are too ill-educated to betrusted with independence; that without authority over them, these smallproprietors become wasteful, careless, improvident; that the free spiritbecomes a democratic and dangerous spirit; and finally, that the resourcesof the land cannot properly be brought out by men without capital tocultivate it. Either theory is plausible. The advocates of both can supporttheir arguments with an appeal to experience; and the verdict of fact hasnot as yet been pronounced emphatically. 

The problem will be resolved in the future history of this country. It wasalso nobly and skilfully resolved in the past. The knights and noblesretained the authority and power which was attached to the lordships of thefees. They retained extensive estates in their own hands or in theoccupation of their immediate tenants; but the large proportion of thelands was granted out by them to smaller owners, and the expenditure oftheir own incomes in the wages and maintenance of their vast retinues leftbut a small margin for indulgence in luxuries. The necessities of theirposition obliged them to regard their property rather as a revenue to beadministered in trust, than as "a fortune" to be expended in indulgence. Before the Reformation, while the differences of social degree wereenormous, the differences in habits of life were comparatively slight, andthe practice of men in these things was curiously the reverse of our own. Dress, which now scarcely suffices to distinguish the master from hisservant, was then the symbol of rank, prescribed by statute to the variousorders of society as strictly as the regimental uniform to officers andprivates; diet also was prescribed, and with equal strictness; but the dietof the nobleman was ordered down to a level which was then within the reachof the poorest labourer. In 1336, the following law was enacted by theParliament of Edward III. :[10] "Whereas, heretofore through the excessiveand over-many sorts of costly meats which the people of this Realm haveused more than elsewhere, many mischiefs have happened to the people ofthis Realm--for the great men by these excesses have been sore grieved; andthe lesser people, who only endeavour to imitate the great ones in suchsort of meats, are much impoverished, whereby they are not able to aidthemselves, nor their liege lord, in time of need, as they ought; and manyother evils have happened, as well to their souls as their bodies--our Lordthe King, desiring the common profit as well of the great men as the commonpeople of his Realm, and considering the evils, grievances, and mischiefsaforesaid, by the common assent of the prelates, earls, barons, and othernobles of his said Realm, and of the commons of the same Realm, hathordained and established that no man, of what estate or condition soever hebe, shall cause himself to be served, in his house or elsewhere, at dinner, meal, or supper, or at any other time, with more than two courses, and eachmess of two sorts of victuals at the utmost, be it of flesh or fish, withthe common sorts of pottage, without sauce or any other sorts of victuals. And if any man choose to have sauce for his mess, he may, provided it benot made at great cost; and if fish or flesh be to be mixed therein, itshall be of two sorts only at the utmost, either fish or flesh, and shallstand instead of a mess, except only on the principal feasts of the year, on which days every man may be served with three courses at the utmost, after the manner aforesaid. "

Sumptuary laws are among the exploded fallacies which we have outgrown, andwe smile at the unwisdom which could expect to regulate private habits andmanners by statute. Yet some statutes may be of moral authority when theycannot be actually enforced, and may have been regarded, even at the timeat which they were issued, rather as an authoritative declaration of whatwise and good men considered to be right, than as laws to which obediencecould be compelled. This act, at any rate, witnesses to what was thenthought to be right by "the great persons" of the English realm; and whengreat persons will submit themselves of their free will to regulationswhich restrict their private indulgence, they are in little danger ofdisloyalty from those whom fortune has placed below them. 

Such is one aspect of these old arrangements; it is unnecessary to say thatwith these, as with all other institutions created and worked by humanbeings, the picture admits of being reversed. When by the accident of birthmen are placed in a position of authority, no care in their training willprevent it from falling often to singularly unfit persons. The command of apermanent military force was a temptation to ambition, to avarice, orhatred, to the indulgence of private piques and jealousies, to politicaldiscontent on private and personal grounds. A combination of three or fourof the leading nobles was sufficient, when an incapable prince sate on thethrone, to effect a revolution; and the rival claims of the houses of Yorkand Lancaster to the crown, took the form of a war unequalled in historyfor its fierce and determined malignancy, the whole nation tearing itselfin pieces in a quarrel in which no principle was at stake, and no nationalobject was to be gained. A more terrible misfortune never befel either thisor any other country, and it was made possible only in virtue of thatloyalty with which the people followed the standard, through good and evil, of their feudal superiors. It is still a question, however, whether thegood or the evil of the system predominated; and the answer to suchquestion is the more difficult because we have no criterion by which, inthese matters, degrees of good and evil admit of being measured. Arisingout of the character of the nation, it reflected this character in all itspeculiarities; and there is something truly noble in the coherence ofsociety upon principles of fidelity. Fidelity of man to man is among therarest excellences of humanity, and we can tolerate large evils which ariseout of such a cause. Under the feudal system men were held together byoaths, free acknowledgments, and reciprocal obligations, entered into byall ranks, high and low, binding servants to their masters, as well asnobles to their kings; and in the frequent forms of the language in whichthe oaths were sworn we cannot choose but see that we have lost somethingin exchanging these ties for the harsher connecting links of mutualself-interest. 

"When a freeman shall do fealty to his lord, " the statute says, "he shallhold his right hand upon the book, and shall say thus:--Hear you, my lord, that I shall be to you both faithful and true, and shall owe my faith toyou for the land that I hold, and lawfully shall do such customs andservices as my duty is to you, at the times assigned, so help me God andall his saints. "

"The villain, " also, "when he shall do fealty to his lord, shall hold hisright hand over the book, and shall say:--Hear you, my lord, that I fromthis day forth unto you shall be true and faithful, and shall owe youfealty for the land which I hold of you in villanage; and that no evil ordamage will I see concerning you, but I will defend and warn you to mypower. So help me God and all his saints. "[11]

Again, in the distribution of the produce of land, men dealt fairly andjustly with each other; and in the material condition of the bulk of thepeople there is a fair evidence that the system worked efficiently andwell. It worked well for the support of a sturdy high-hearted race, soundin body and fierce in spirit, and furnished with thews and sinews which, under the stimulus of those "great shins of beef, "[12] their common diet, were the wonder of the age. "What comyn folke in all this world, " says astate paper in 1515[13] "may compare with the comyns of England in riches, freedom, liberty, welfare, and all prosperity? What comyn folke is somighty, so strong in the felde, as the comyns of England?" The relativenumbers of the French and English armies which fought at Cressy andAgincourt may have been exaggerated, but no allowance for exaggeration willeffect the greatness of those exploits; and in stories of authentic actionsunder Henry VIII. , where the accuracy of the account is undeniable, nodisparity of force made Englishmen shrink from enemies wherever they couldmeet them. Again and again a few thousands of them carried dismay into theheart of France. Four hundred adventurers, vagabond apprentices, fromLondon, [14] who formed a volunteer corps in the Calais garrison, were foryears the terror of Normandy. In the very frolic of conscious power theyfought and plundered, without pay, without reward, except what they couldwin for themselves; and when they fell at last they fell only whensurrounded by six times their number, and were cut to pieces in carelessdesperation. Invariably, by friend and enemy alike, the English aredescribed as the fiercest people in all Europe (the English wild beasts, Benvenuto Cellini calls them); and this great physical power they owed tothe profuse abundance in which they lived, and to the soldier's training inwhich every man of them was bred from childhood. The state of the workingclasses can, however, be more certainly determined by a comparison of theirwages with the prices of food. Both were regulated, so far as regulationwas possible, by act of parliament, and we have therefore data of theclearest kind by which to judge. The majority of agricultural labourerslived, as I have said, in the houses of their employers; this, however, wasnot the case with all, and if we can satisfy ourselves as to the rate atwhich those among the poor were able to live who had cottages of their own, we may be assured that the rest did not live worse at their masters'tables. 

Wheat, the price of which necessarily varied, averaged in the middle of thefourteenth century tenpence the bushel;[15] barley averaging at the sametime three shillings the quarter. With wheat the fluctuation was excessive;a table of its possible variations describes it as ranging fromeighteenpence the quarter to twenty shillings; the average, however, beingsix and eightpence. [16] When the price was above this sum, the merchantsmight import to bring it down;[17] when it was below this price the farmerswere allowed to export to the foreign markets. [18] The same scale, with ascarcely appreciable tendency to rise, continued to hold until thedisturbance in the value of the currency. In the twelve years from 1551 to1562, although once before harvest wheat rose to the extraordinary price offorty-five shillings a quarter, it fell immediately after to five shillingsand four. [19] Six and eightpence continued to be considered in parliamentas the average; [20] and on the whole it seems to have been maintained forthat time with little variation. [21]

Beef and pork were a halfpenny a pound--mutton was three farthings. Theywere fixed at these prices by the 3rd of the 24th of Hen. VIII. But the actwas unpopular both with buyers and with sellers. The old practice had beento sell in the gross, and under that arrangement the rates had beengenerally lower. Stow says, [22] "It was this year enacted that butchersshould sell their beef and mutton by weight--beef for a halfpenny thepound, and mutton for three farthings; which being devised for the greatcommodity of the realm (as it was thought), hath proved far otherwise: forat that time fat oxen were sold for six and twenty shillings and eightpencethe piece; fat wethers for three shillings and fourpence the piece; fatcalves at a like price; and fat lambs for twelvepence. The butchers ofLondon sold penny pieces of beef for the relief of the poor--every piecetwo pound and a half, sometimes three pound for a penny; and thirteen andsometimes fourteen of these pieces for twelvepence; mutton eightpence thequarter, and an hundred weight of beef for four shillings and eightpence. "The act was repealed in consequence of the complaints against it, [23] butthe prices never fell again to what they had been, although beef sold inthe gross could still be had for a halfpenny a pound in 1570. [24] Otherarticles of food were in the same proportion. The best pig or goose in acountry market could be bought for fourpence; a good capon for threepenceor fourpence; a chicken for a penny; a hen for twopence. [25]

Strong beer, such as we now buy for eighteenpence a gallon, was then apenny a gallon;[26] and table-beer less than a halfpenny. French and Germanwines were eightpence the gallon. Spanish and Portuguese wines a shilling. This was the highest price at which the best wines might be sold; and ifthere was any fault in quality or quantity, the dealers forfeited fourtimes the amount. [27] Rent, another important consideration, cannot befixed so accurately, for parliament did not interfere with it. Here, however, we are not without very tolerable information. "My father, " saysLatimer, [28] "was a yeoman, and had no lands of his own; only he had a_farm of three or four pounds by the year_ at the uttermost, and hereuponhe tilled so much as kept half-a-dozen men. He had walk for a hundredsheep, and my mother milked thirty kine. He was able, and did find the kinga harness with himself and his horse. I remember that I buckled on hisharness when he went to Blackheath field. He kept me to school, or else Ihad not been able to have preached before the King's Majesty now. Hemarried my sisters with five pounds, or twenty nobles, each, having broughtthem up in godliness and fear of God. He kept hospitality for his poorneighbours, and some alms he gave to the poor; and all this he did of thesaid farm. " If "three or four pounds at the uttermost" was the rent of afarm yielding such results, the rent of labourers' cottages is not likelyto have been considerable. [29]

Some uncertainty is unavoidable in all calculations of the present nature;yet, after making the utmost allowances for errors, we may conclude fromsuch a table of prices that a penny, in terms of the labourer'snecessities, must have been nearly equal in the reign of Henry VIII. To thepresent shilling. For a penny, at the time of which I write, the labourercould buy as much bread, beef, beer, and wine--he could do as much towardsfinding lodging for himself and his family--as the labourer of thenineteenth century can for a shilling. I do not see that this admits ofquestion. Turning, then, to the table of wages, it will be easy toascertain his position. By the 3rd of the 6th of Henry VIII. It was enactedthat master carpenters, masons, bricklayers, tylers, plumbers, glaziers, joiners, and other employers of such skilled workmen, should give to eachof their journeymen, if no meat or drink was allowed, sixpence a day forthe half year, fivepence a day for the other half; or fivepence-halfpennyfor the yearly average. The common labourers were to receive fourpence aday for half the year, for the remaining half, threepence. [30] In theharvest months they were allowed to work by the piece, and might earnconsiderably more;[31] so that, in fact (and this was the rate at whichtheir wages were usually estimated), the day labourer, if in fullemployment, received on an average fourpence a day for the whole year. Allowing a deduction of one day in a fortnight for a saint's day or aholiday, he received, therefore, steadily and regularly, if well conducted, an equivalent of something near to twenty shillings a week, the wages atpresent paid in English colonies: and this is far from being a full accountof his advantages. Except in rare instances, the agricultural labourer heldland in connection with his house, while in most parishes, if not in all, there were large ranges of common and unenclosed forest land, whichfurnished his fuel to him gratis, where pigs might range, and ducks andgeese; where, if he could afford a cow, he was in no danger of being unableto feed it; and so important was this privilege considered, that when thecommons began to be largely enclosed, parliament insisted that the workingman should not be without some piece of ground on which he could employ hisown and his family's industry. [32] By the 7th of the 31st of Elizabeth, itwas ordered that no cottage should be built for residence without fouracres of land at lowest being attached to it for the sole use of theoccupants of such cottage. 

It will, perhaps, be supposed that such comparative prosperity of labourwas the result of the condition of the market in which it was sold, thatthe demand for labour was large and the supply limited, and that the stateof England in the sixteenth century was analogous to that of Australia orCanada at the present time. And so long as we confine our view to thequestion of wages alone, it is undoubted that legislation was in favour ofthe employer. The Wages Act of Henry VIII. Was unpopular with thelabourers, and was held to deprive them of an opportunity of making betterterms for themselves. [33] But we shall fall into extreme error if wetranslate into the language of modern political economy the social featuresof a state of things which in no way correspond to our own. There was thisessential difference, that labour was not looked upon as a marketcommodity; the government (whether wisely or not, I do not presume todetermine) attempting to portion out the rights of the various classes ofsociety by the rule, not of economy, but of equity. Statesmen did not carefor the accumulation of capital; they desired to see the physicalwell-being of all classes of the commonwealth maintained at the highestdegree which the producing power of the country admitted; and populationand production remaining stationary, they were able to do it. This wastheir object, and they were supported in it by a powerful and efficientmajority of the nation. On the one side parliament interfered to protectemployers against their labourers; but it was equally determined thatemployers should not be allowed to abuse their opportunities; and thisdirectly appears from the 4th of the 5th of Elizabeth, by which, on themost trifling appearance of a depreciation in the currency, it was declaredthat the labouring man could no longer live on the wages assigned to him bythe act of Henry; and a sliding scale was instituted by which, for thefuture, wages should be adjusted to the price of food. [34]

The same conclusion may be gathered also, indirectly, from other acts, interfering imperiously with the rights of property where a dispositionshowed itself to exercise them selfishly. The city merchants, as I havesaid, were becoming landowners; and some of them attempted to apply therules of trade to the management of landed estates. While wages were ruledso high, it answered better as a speculation to convert arable land intopasture; but the law immediately stepped in to prevent a proceeding whichit regarded as petty treason to the commonwealth. Self-protection is thefirst law of life; and the country relying for its defence on anable-bodied population, evenly distributed, ready at any moment to becalled into action, either against foreign invasion or civil disturbance, it could not permit the owners of land to pursue for their own benefit acourse of action which threatened to weaken its garrisons. It is not oftenthat we are able to test the wisdom of legislation by specific results soclearly as in the present instance. The first attempts of the kind which Ihave described were made in the Isle of Wight, early in the reign of HenryVII. Lying so directly exposed to attacks from France, the Isle of Wightwas a place which it was peculiarly important to keep in a state ofdefence, and the following act was therefore the consequence:--

"Forasmuch as it is to the surety of the Realm of England that the Isle ofWight, in the county of Southampton, be well inhabited with English people, for the defence as well of our antient enemies of the Realm of France as ofother parties; the which Isle is late decayed of people by reason that manytowns and villages have been let down, and the fields dyked and madepasture for beasts and cattle, and also many dwelling-places, farms, andfarmholds have of late time been used to be taken into one man's hold andhands, that of old time were wont to be in many several persons' holds andhands, and many several households kept in them; and thereby much peoplemultiplied, and the same Isle thereby well inhabited, which now, by theoccasion aforesaid, is desolate and not inhabited, but occupied with beastsand cattle, so that if hasty remedy be not provided, that Isle cannot longbe kept and defended, but open and ready to the hands of the king'senemies, which God forbid. For remedy hereof, it is ordained and enactedthat no manner of person, of what estate, degree, or condition soever, shall take any several farms more than one, whereof the yearly value shallnot exceed the sum of ten marks; and if any several leases afore this timehave been made to any person or persons of divers and sundry farmholds, whereof the yearly value shall exceed that sum, then the said person orpersons shall choose one farmhold at his pleasure, and the remnant of hisleases shall be utterly void. "[35]

An act, tyrannical in form, was singularly justified by its consequences. The farms were rebuilt, the lands reploughed, the island repeopled; and in1546, when a French army of sixty thousand men attempted to effect alanding at St. Helen's, they were defeated and driven off by the militia ofthe island and a few levies transported from Hampshire and the adjoiningcounties. [36] The money-making spirit, however, lay too deep to be checkedso readily. The trading classes were growing rich under the strong rule ofthe Tudors. Increasing numbers of them were buying or renting land; and thesymptoms complained of broke out in the following reign in many parts ofEngland. They could not choose but break out indeed; for they were theoutward marks of a vital change, which was undermining the feudalconstitution, and would by and bye revolutionise and destroy it. Suchsymptoms it was impossible to extinguish; but the government wrestled longand powerfully to hold down the new spirit; and they fought against itsuccessfully, till the old order of things had finished its work, and thetime was come for it to depart. By the 1st of the 7th of Henry VIII. , thelaws of feudal tenure were put in force against the landed traders. Wherever lands were converted from tillage to pasture, the lords of the feehad authority to seize half of all profits until the farm-buildings werereconstructed. If the immediate lord did not do his duty, the lord nextabove him was to do it; and the evil still increasing, the act, twentyyears later, was extended further, and the king had power to seize. [37] Norwas this all. Sheep-farming had become an integral branch of business; andfalling into the hands of men who understood each other, it had been made amonopoly, affecting seriously the prices of wool and mutton. [38] Strongermeasures were therefore now taken, and the class to which the offendersbelonged was especially pointed out by parliament. 

"Whereas, " says the 13th of the 25th of Henry VIII. , "divers and sundrypersons of the king's subjects of this Realm, to whom God of his goodnesshath disposed great plenty and abundance of moveable substance, now oflate, within few years, have daily studied, practised, and invented waysand means how they might accumulate and gather together into few hands, aswell great multitude of farms as great plenty of cattle, and in especial, sheep, putting such lands as they can get to pasture and not to tillage;whereby they have not only pulled down churches and towns and enhanced theold rates of the rents of the possessions of this Realm, or else brought itto such excessive fines that no poor man is able to meddle with it, butalso have raised and enhanced the prices of all manner of corn, cattle, wool, pigs, geese, hens, chickens, eggs, and such other commodities, almostdouble above the prices which hath been accustomed, by reason whereof amarvellous multitude of the poor people of this realm be not able toprovide meat, drink, and clothes necessary for themselves, their wives, andchildren, but be so discouraged with misery and poverty, that they falldaily to theft, robbery, and other inconveniences, or pitifully die forhunger and cold; and it is thought by the king's humble and lovingsubjects, that one of the greatest occasions that moveth those greedy andcovetous people so to accumulate and keep in their hands such greatportions and parts of the lands of this Realm from the occupying of thepoor husbandmen, and so to use it in pasture and not in tillage, is thegreat profit that cometh of sheep which be now come into a few persons'hands, in respect of the whole number of the king's subjects; it is herebyenacted, that no person shall have or keep on lands not their owninheritance more than 2000 sheep; that no person shall occupy more than twofarms; and that the 19th of the 4th of Henry VII. , and those other actsobliging the lords of the fees to do their duty, shall be re-enacted andenforced. "[39]

By these measures the money-making spirit was for a time driven back, andthe country resumed its natural course. I am not concerned to defend theeconomic wisdom of such proceedings; but they prove, I think, conclusively, that the labouring classes owed their advantages not to the condition ofthe labour market, but to the care of the state; and that when the staterelaxed its supervision, or failed to enforce its regulations, thelabourers being left to the market chances, sank instantly in the unequalstruggle with capital. 

The government, however, remained strong enough to hold its ground (exceptduring the discreditable interlude of the reign of Edward VI. ) for thefirst three quarters of the century; and until that time the workingclasses of this country remained in a condition more than prosperous. Theyenjoyed an abundance far beyond what in general falls to the lot of thatorder in long-settled countries; incomparably beyond what the same classwere enjoying at that very time in Germany or France. The laws securedthem; and that the laws were put in force we have the direct evidence ofsuccessive acts of the legislature justifying the general policy by itssuccess: and we have also the indirect evidence of the contented loyalty ofthe great body of the people at a time when, if they had been discontented, they held in their own hands the means of asserting what the lawacknowledged to be their right. The government had no power to compelsubmission to injustice, as was proved by the fate of an attempt to levy a"benevolence" by force, in 1525. The people resisted with a determinationagainst which the crown commissioners were unable to contend, and thescheme ended with an acknowledgment of fault by Henry, who retired with agood grace from an impossible position. If the peasantry had been sufferingunder any real grievances we should not have failed to have heard of themwhen the religious rebellions furnished so fair an opportunity to pressthose grievances forward. Complaint was loud enough when complaint wasjust, under the Somerset protectorate. [40]

The incomes of the great nobles cannot be determined, for they variedprobably as much as they vary now. Under Henry IV. The average income of anearl was estimated at £2000 a year. [41] Under Henry VIII. The great Duke ofBuckingham, the wealthiest English peer, had £6000. [42] And the income ofthe Archbishop of Canterbury was rated at the same amount. [43] But theestablishments of such men were enormous; their ordinary retinues in timeof peace consisting of many hundred persons; and in war, when the duties ofa nobleman called him to the field, although in theory his followers werepaid by the crown, yet the grants of parliament were on so small a scalethat the theory was seldom converted into fact, and a large share of theexpenses was paid often out of private purses. The Duke of Norfolk, in theScotch war of 1523, declared (not complaining of it, but merely as a reasonwhy he should receive support) that he had spent all his private means uponthe army; and in the sequel of this history we shall find repeatedinstances of knights and gentlemen voluntarily ruining themselves in theservice of their country. The people, not universally, but generally, wereanimated by a true spirit of sacrifice; by a true conviction that they werebound to think first of England, and only next of themselves; and unless wecan bring ourselves to understand this, we shall never understand whatEngland was under the reigns of the Plantagenets and Tudors. The expensesof the court under Henry VII. Were a little over £14, 000 a year, out ofwhich were defrayed the whole cost of the king's establishment, theexpenses of entertaining foreign ambassadors, the wages and maintenance ofthe yeomen of the guard, the retinues of servants, and all necessary outlaynot incurred for public business. Under Henry VIII. , of whose extravagancewe have heard so much, and whose court was the most magnificent in theworld, these expenses were £19, 894 16s. 8d. , [44] a small sum when comparedwith the present cost of the royal establishment, even if we adopt therelative estimate of twelve to one, and suppose it equal to £240, 000 a yearof our money. But indeed it was not equal to £240, 000; for, although theproportion held in articles of common consumption, articles of luxury werevery dear indeed. [45]

Passing down from the king and his nobles, to the body of the people, wefind that the income qualifying a country gentleman to be justice of thepeace was £20 a year, [46] and if he did his duty, his office was nosinecure. We remember Justice Shallow and his clerk Davy, with his noveltheory of magisterial law; and Shallow's broad features have so English acast about them, that we may believe there were many such, and that theduty was not always very excellently done. But the Justice Shallows werenot allowed to repose upon their dignity. The justice of the peace wasrequired not only to take cognisance of open offences, but to keepsurveillance over all persons within his district, and over himself in hisown turn there was a surveillance no less sharp, and penalties for neglectprompt and peremptory. [47] Four times a year he was to make proclamation ofhis duty, and exhort all persons to complain against him who had occasion. 

Twenty pounds a year, and heavy duties to do for it, represented thecondition of the squire of the parish. [48] By the 2nd of the 2nd of HenryV. , "the wages" of a parish priest were limited to £5 6s. 8d. , except incases where there was special licence from the bishop, when they might beraised as high as £6. Priests were probably something better off underHenry VIII. , but the statute remained in force, and marks an approach atleast to their ordinary salary. [49] The priest had enough, being unmarried, to supply him in comfort with the necessaries of life. The squire hadenough to provide moderate abundance for himself and his family. Neitherpriest nor squire was able to establish any steep difference in outwardadvantages between himself and the commons among whom he lived. 

The habits of all classes were open, free, and liberal. There are twoexpressions corresponding one to the other, which we frequently meet within old writings, and which are used as a kind of index, marking whether thecondition of things was or was not what it ought to be. We read of "merryEngland;"--when England was not merry, things were not going well with it. We hear of "the glory of hospitality, " England's pre-eminent boast, -by therules of which all tables, from the table of the twenty-shilling freeholderto the table in the baron's hall and abbey refectory, were open at thedinner hour to all comers, without stint or reserve, or question asked:[50]to every man, according to his degree, who chose to ask for it there wasfree fee and free lodging; bread, beef, and beer for his dinner; for hislodging, perhaps, only a mat of rushes in a spare corner of the hall, witha billet of wood for a pillow, [51] but freely offered and freely taken, theguest probably faring much as his host fared, neither worse nor better. There was little fear of an abuse of such licence, for suspiciouscharacters had no leave to wander at pleasure; and for any man found atlarge and unable to give a sufficient account of himself, there were theever-ready parish stocks or town gaol. The "glory of hospitality" lastedfar down into Elizabeth's time; and then, as Camden says, "came in greatbravery of building, to the marvellous beautifying of the realm, but to thedecay" of what he valued more. 

In such frank style the people lived, hating three things with all theirhearts: idleness, want, and cowardice; and for the rest carrying theirhearts high, and having their hands full. The[52] hour of rising, winterand summer, was four o'clock, with breakfast at five, after which thelabourers went to work and the gentlemen to business, of which they had nolittle. In the country every unknown face was challenged and examined--ifthe account given was insufficient, he was brought before the justice; ifthe village shopkeeper sold bad wares, if the village cobbler made"unhonest" shoes, if servants and masters quarrelled, all was to be lookedto by the justice; there was no fear lest time should hang heavy with him. At twelve he dined; after dinner he went hunting, or to his farm or to whathe pleased. [53] It was a life unrefined, perhaps, but coloured with abroad, rosy, English health. 

Of the education of noblemen and gentlemen we have contradictory accounts, as might be expected. The universities were well filled, by the sons ofyeomen chiefly. The cost of supporting them at the colleges was little, andwealthy men took a pride in helping forward any boys of promise. [54] Itseems clear also, as the Reformation drew nearer, while the clergy weresinking lower and lower, a marked change for the better became perceptiblein a portion at least of the laity. The more old-fashioned of the higherranks were slow in moving; for as late as the reign of Edward VI. [55] therewere peers of parliament unable to read; but on the whole, the invention ofprinting, and the general ferment which was commencing all over the world, had produced marked effects in all classes. Henry VIII. Himself spoke fourlanguages, and was well read in theology and history; and the highaccomplishments of More and Sir T. Elliott, of Wyatt and Cromwell, were butthe extreme expression of a temper which was rapidly spreading, and whichgave occasion, among other things to the following reflection in Erasmus. "Oh, strange vicissitudes of human things, " exclaims he. "Heretofore theheart of learning was among such as professed religion. Now, while they forthe most part give themselves up, _ventri luxui pecuniæque_, the love oflearning is gone from them to secular princes, the court and the nobility. May we not justly be ashamed of ourselves? The feasts of priests anddivines are drowned in wine, are filled with scurrilous jests, sound withintemperate noise and tumult, flow with spiteful slanders and defamation ofothers; while at princes' tables modest disputations are held concerningthings which make for learning and piety. "

A letter to Thomas Cromwell from his son's tutor will not be withoutinterest on this subject; Cromwell was likely to have been unusuallycareful in his children's training, and we need not suppose that all boyswere brought up as prudently. Sir Peter Carew, for instance, being a boy atabout the same time, and giving trouble at the High School at Exeter, wasled home to his father's house at Ottery, coupled between twofoxhounds. [56] Yet the education of Gregory Cromwell is probably not farabove what many young men of the middle and higher ranks were beginning toreceive. Henry Dowes was the tutor's name, beyond which fact I know nothingof him. His letter is as follows:--

"After that it pleased your mastership to give me in charge, not only togive diligent attendance upon Master Gregory, but also to instruct him withgood letters, honest manners, pastyme of instruments, and such otherqualities as should be for him meet and convenient, pleaseth it you tounderstand that for the accomplishment thereof I have endeavoured myself byall ways possible to excogitate how I might most profit him. In whichbehalf, through his diligence, the success is such as I trust shall be toyour good contentation and pleasure, and to his no small profit. But forcause the summer was spent in the service of the wild gods, [and] it is somuch to be regarded after what fashion youth is brought up, in which timethat that is learned for the most part will not be wholly forgotten in theolder years, I think it my duty to acertain your mastership how he spendethhis time. And first after he hath heard mass he taketh a lecture of adialogue of Erasmus' _Colloquies_, called _Pietas Puerilis_, wherein isdescribed a very picture of one that should be virtuously brought up; andfor cause it is so necessary for him, I do not only cause him to read itover, but also to practise the precepts of the same. After this heexerciseth his hand in writing one or two hours, and readeth upon Fabyan's_Chronicle_ as long. The residue of the day he doth spend upon the lute andvirginals. When he rideth, as he doth very oft, I tell him by the way somehistory of the Romans or the Greeks, which I cause him to rehearse again ina tale. For his recreation he useth to hawk and hunt and shoot in his longbow, which frameth and succeedeth so well with him that he seemeth to bethereunto given by nature. "[57]

I have spoken of the organisation of the country population, I have now tospeak of that of the towns, of the trading classes and manufacturingclasses, the regulations respecting which are no less remarkable and noless illustrative of the national character. If the tendency of trade toassume at last a form of mere self-interest be irresistible, if politicaleconomy represent the laws to which in the end it is forced to submititself, the nation spared no efforts, either of art or policy, to defer tothe last moment the unwelcome conclusion. 

The names and shadows linger about London of certain ancient societies, themembers of which may still occasionally be seen in quaint gilt bargespursuing their own difficult way among the swarming steamers; when oncertain days, the traditions concerning which are fast dying out of memory, the Fishmongers' Company, the Goldsmiths' Company, the Mercers' Company, make procession down the river for civic feastings at Greenwich orBlackwall. The stately tokens of ancient honour still belong to them, andthe remnants of ancient wealth and patronage and power. Their charters maybe read by curious antiquaries, and the bills of fare of their anciententertainments. But for what purpose they were called into being, whatthere was in these associations of common trades to surround with gildedinsignia, and how they came to be possessed of broad lands and churchpreferments, few people now care to think or to inquire. Trade and tradershave no dignity any more in the eyes of any one, except what money lends tothem; and these outward symbols scarcely rouse even a passing feeling ofcuriosity. And yet these companies were once something more than names. They are all which now remain of a vast organisation which once penetratedthe entire trading life of England--an organisation set on foot to realisethat most necessary, if most difficult, condition of commercial excellenceunder which man should deal faithfully with his brother, and all waresoffered for sale, of whatever kind, should honestly be what they pretend tobe. [58] I spoke of the military principle which directed the distributionand the arrangements of land. The analogy will best explain a state ofthings in which every occupation was treated as the division of an army;regiments being quartered in every town, each with its own self-electedofficers, whose duty was to exercise authority over all persons professingthe business to which they belonged; who were to see that no personundertook to supply articles which he had not been educated to manufacture;who were to determine the prices at which such articles ought justly to besold; above all, who were to take care that the common people really boughtat shops and stalls what they supposed themselves to be buying; that clothput up for sale was true cloth, of true texture and full weight: thatleather was sound and well tanned; wine pure, measures honest; flourunmixed with devil's dust;--who were generally to look to it that in allcontracts between man and man for the supply of man's necessities, what wecall honesty of dealing should be truly and faithfully observed. [59] Anorganisation for this purpose did once really exist in England, [60] reallytrying to do the work which it was intended to do, as half the pages of ourearly statutes witness. In London, as the metropolis, a central councilsate for every branch of trade, and this council was in communication withthe Chancellor and the Crown. It was composed of the highest and mostrespectable members of the profession, and its office was to determineprices, fix wages, arrange the rules of apprenticeship, and discuss alldetails connected with the business on which legislation might be required. Further, this council received the reports of the searchers--high officerstaken from their own body, whose business was to inspect, in company withthe lord mayor or some other city dignitary, the shops of the respectivetraders; to receive complaints, and to examine into them. In eachprovincial town local councils sate in connection with the municipalauthorities, who fulfilled in these places the same duties; and theirreports being forwarded to the central body, and considered by them, representations on all necessary matters were then made to the privycouncil; and by the privy council, if requisite, were submitted toparliament. If these representations were judged to require legislativeinterference, the statutes which were passed in consequence were returnedthrough the Chancellor to the mayors of the various towns and cities, bywhom they were proclaimed as law. No person was allowed to open a trade orto commence a manufacture, either in London or the provinces, unless he hadfirst served his apprenticeship; unless he could prove to the satisfactionof the authorities that he was competent in his craft; and unless hesubmitted as a matter of course to their supervision. The legislature hadundertaken not to let that indispensable task go wholly unattempted, ofdistributing the various functions of society by the rule of capacity; ofcompelling every man to do his duty in an honest following of his propercalling, securing to him that he in his turn should not be injured by hisneighbour's misdoings. 

The state further promising for itself that all able-bodied men should befound in work, [61] and not allowing any man to work at a business for whichhe was unfit, insisted as its natural right that children should not beallowed to grow up in idleness, to be returned at mature age upon itshands. Every child, so far as possible, was to be trained up in somebusiness or calling, [62] idleness "being the mother of all sin, " and theessential duty of every man being to provide honestly for himself and hisfamily. The educative theory, for such it was, was simple but effective: itwas based on the single principle that, next to the knowledge of a man'sduty to God, and as a means towards doing that duty, the first condition ofa worthy life was the ability to maintain it in independence. Varieties ofinapplicable knowledge might be good, but they were not essential; suchknowledge might be left to the leisure of after years, or it might bedispensed with without vital injury. Ability to labour could not bedispensed with, and this, therefore, the state felt it to be its own dutyto see provided; so reaching, I cannot but think, the heart of the wholematter. The children of those who could afford the small entrance fees wereapprenticed to trades, the rest were apprenticed to agriculture; and ifchildren were found growing up idle, and their fathers or their friendsfailed to prove that they were able to secure them an ultimate maintenance, the mayors in towns and the magistrates in the country had authority totake possession of such children, and apprentice them as they saw fit, thatwhen they grew up "they might not be driven" by want or incapacity "todishonest courses. "[63]

Such is an outline of the organisation of English society under thePlantagenets and Tudors. A detail of the working of the trade laws would bebeyond my present purpose. It is obvious that such laws could be enforcedonly under circumstances when production and population remained (as I saidbefore) nearly stationary; and it would be madness to attempt to apply themto the changed condition of the present. It would be well if some competentperson would make these laws the subject of a special treatise. I will runthe risk, however, of wearying the reader with two or three illustrativestatutes, which I have chosen, not as being more significant than manyothers, but as specimens merely of the discipline under which, forcenturies, the trade and manufactures of England contrived to move; showingon one side the good which the system effected, on the other the inevitableevils under which it finally sank. 

The first which I shall quote concerns simply the sale of specific goodsand the means by which tradesmen were prevented from enhancing prices. TheAct is the 6th of the 24th of Henry VIII. , and concerns the sale of wines, the statute prices of which I have already mentioned. 

"Because, " says this Act, "that divers merchants inhabiting within the cityof London have of late not only presumed to bargain and sell in gross todivers of the king's subjects great quantities of wines of Gascony, Guienne, and French wines, some for five pounds per tonne, some for moreand some for less, and so after the rate of excessive prices contrary tothe effect of a good and laudable statute lately made in this presentparliament; that is to say, contrary to and above the prices thereof set bythe Right Honourable Lord Chancellor, Lord Treasurer, Lord President of theKing's most honourable Council, Lord Privy Seal, and the two Chief Justicesof either bench, whereby they be fallen into the penalties limited by thesaid statute; as by due proof made by examination taken is well known--butalso having in their hands great abundance of wine, by them acquired andbought to be sold, obstinately and maliciously, since their said attemptateand defaults proved, have refused to bargain and sell to many of the king'ssubjects any of their said wines remaining and being in their hands;purposing and intending thereby their own singular and unreasonable lucresand profits, to have larger and higher prices of their said wines, to beset according to their insatiable appetites and minds; it is thereforeordained and enacted, by authority of this present parliament, that everymerchant now having, or which shall hereafter have, wines to be sold, andrefusing to sell or deliver, or not selling and delivering any of the saidwines for ready money therefore to be paid, according to the price orprices thereof being set, shall forfeit and lose the value of the wine sorequired to be bought. .. . For due execution of which provision, and for therelief of the king's subjects, it shall be lawful to all and singularjustices of the peace, mayors, bailiffs, and other head officers in shires, cities, boroughs, towns, etc. , at the request of any person to whom thesaid merchant or merchants have refused to sell, to enter into the cellarsand other places where such wines shall lie or be, and to sell and deliverthe same wine or wines desired to be bought to the person or personsrequiring to buy the same; taking of the buyer of the wine so sold to theuse and satisfaction of the proprietor aforesaid, according to the pricesdetermined by the law. "

The next which I select is the eleventh of the second and third of Philipand Mary; and falling in the midst of the smoke of the Smithfield fires, and the cruelties of that melancholy time, it shines like a fair gleam ofhumanity, which will not lose anything of its lustre because the evilsagainst which it contends have in our times, also, furnished matter forsorrow and calamity--calamity which we unhappily have been unable even toattempt to remedy. It is termed "An Act touching Weavers, " and runs:

"Forasmuch as the weavers of this realm have, as well at this presentparliament as at divers other times, complained that the rich and wealthyclothiers do in many ways oppress them--some by setting up and keeping intheir houses divers looms, and keeping and maintaining them by journeymenand persons unskilful, to the decay of a great number of artificers whichwere brought up in the said science of weaving, with their families andtheir households--some by engrossing of looms into their hands andpossession, and letting them out at such unreasonable rents, as the poorartificers are not able to maintain themselves, much less maintain theirwives, families, and children--some also by giving much less wages and hirefor weaving and workmanship than in times past they did, whereby they areenforced utterly to forsake their art and occupation wherein they have beenbrought up; It is, therefore, for remedy of the premises, and for theavoiding of a great number of inconveniences which may grow if in time itbe not foreseen, ordained and enacted by authority of this presentparliament, that no person using the feat or mystery of cloth-making, anddwelling out of a city, borough, market-town, or corporate town, shallkeep, or retain, or have in his or their houses or possession, any morethan one woollen loom at a time; nor shall by any means, directly orindirectly, receive or take any manner of profit, gain, or commodity, byletting or setting any loom, or any house wherein any loom is or shall beused or occupied, which shall be together by him set or let, upon pain offorfeiture for every week that any person shall do the contrary to thetenor and true meaning hereof, twenty shillings. "

A provision then follows, limiting weavers living in towns to twolooms--the plain intention being to prevent the cloth manufacture fromfalling into the power of large capitalists employing "hands;" and toenable as many persons as possible to earn all in their own homes their ownseparate independent living. I suppose that the parliament was aware thatby pursuing this policy the cost of production was something increased;that cloth was thus made dearer than it would have been if trade had beenleft to follow its own course. It considered, however, that the loss wascompensated to the nation by retaining its people in the condition not of"hands, " but of men; by rendering them independent of masters, who onlysought to make their own advantage at the expense of labour; and enablingthem to continue to maintain themselves in manly freedom. The weak point ofall such provisions did not lie, I think, in the economic aspect of them, but in a far deeper difficulty. The details of trade legislation, it isobvious, could only be determined by persons professionally conversant withthose details; and the indispensable condition of success with suchlegislation is, that it be conducted under the highest sense of theobligations of honesty. No laws are of any service which are above theworking level of public morality; and the deeper they are carried down intolife, the larger become the opportunities of evasion. That the systemsucceeded for centuries is evident from the organisation of the companiesremaining so long in its vitality; but the efficiency of this organisationfor the maintenance of fair dealing could exist only so long as thecompanies themselves--their wardens and their other officials, who alone, _quisque in suâ arte_, were competent to judge what was right and what waswrong--could be trusted, at the same time being interested parties, to givea disinterested judgment. The largeness of the power inevitably committedto the councils was at once a temptation and an opportunity to abuse thosepowers; and slowly through the statute book we find the traces of thepoison as it crept in and in. Already in the 24th of Henry VIII. , we meetwith complaints in the leather trade of the fraudulent conduct of thesearchers, whose duty was to affix their seal upon leather ascertained tobe sound, before it was exposed for sale, "which mark or print, forcorruption and lucre, is commonly set and put by such as take upon them thesearch and sealing, as well upon leather insufficiently tanned, as uponleather well tanned, to the great deceit of the buyers thereof. " About thesame time, the "craft wardens" of the various fellowships, "out of sinistermind and purpose, " were levying excessive fees on the admission ofapprentices; and when parliament interfered to bring them to order, they"compassed and practised by cautill and subtle means to delude the good andwholesome statutes passed for remedy. "[64] The old proverb, _Quis custodiatcustodes_, had begun to verify itself, and the symptom was a fatal one. These evils, for the first half of the century, remained within compass;but as we pass on we find them increasing steadily. In the 7th and the 8thof Elizabeth, there are indications of the truck system; and towards herlater years, the multiplying statutes and growing complaints anddifficulties show plainly that the companies had lost their healthyvitality, and, with other relics of feudalism, were fast taking themselvesaway. There were no longer tradesmen to be found in sufficient numbers whowere possessed of the necessary probity; and it is impossible not toconnect such a phenomenon with the deep melancholy which in those yearssettled down on Elizabeth herself. 

For, indeed, a change was coming upon the world, the meaning and directionof which even still is hidden from us, a change from era to era. The pathstrodden by the footsteps of ages were broken up; old things were passingaway, and the faith and the life of ten centuries were dissolving like adream. Chivalry was dying; the abbey and the castle were soon together tocrumble into ruins; and all the forms, desires, beliefs, convictions of theold world were passing away, never to return. A new continent had risen upbeyond the western sea. The floor of heaven, inlaid with stars, had sunkback into an infinite abyss of immeasurable space; and the firm earthitself, unfixed from its foundations, was seen to be but a small atom inthe awful vastness of the universe. In the fabric of habit in which theyhad so laboriously built for themselves, mankind were to remain no longer. 

And now it is all gone--like an unsubstantial pageant faded; and between usand the old English there lies a gulf of mystery which the prose of thehistorian will never adequately bridge. They cannot come to us, and ourimagination can but feebly penetrate to them. Only among the aisles of thecathedral, only as we gaze upon their silent figures sleeping on theirtombs, some faint conceptions float before us of what these men were whenthey were alive; and perhaps in the sound of church bells, that peculiarcreation of mediæval age, which falls upon the ear like the echo of avanished world. 

The transition out of this old state is what in this book I have undertakento relate. As yet there were uneasy workings below the surface; but thecrust was unbroken, and the nation remained outwardly unchanged as it hadbeen for centuries. I have still some few features to add to mydescription. 

Nothing, I think, proves more surely the mutual confidence which heldtogether the government and the people, than the fact that all classes werearmed. Every man, as I have already said, was a soldier; and every man wasready equipped at all times with the arms which corresponded to his rank. By the great statute of Winchester, [65] which was repeated and expanded onmany occasions in the after reigns, it was enacted, "That every man haveharness in his house to keep the peace after the antient assise--that is tosay, every man between fifteen years of age and sixty years shall beassessed and sworn to armour according to the quantity of his lands andgoods--that is, to wit, for fifteen pounds lands and forty marks goods, ahauberke, a helmet of iron, a sword, a dagger, and a horse. For ten poundsof lands and twenty marks goods, a hauberke, a helmet, a sword, and adagger. For five pounds lands, a doublet, a helmet of iron, a sword, and adagger. For forty shillings lands, a sword, a bow and arrows, and a dagger. And all others that may shall have bows and arrows. Review of armour shallbe made every year two times, by two constables for every hundred andfranchise thereunto appointed; and the constables shall present, tojustices assigned for that purpose, such defaults as they do find. "

As the archery was more developed, and the bow became the peculiar weaponof the English, regular practice was ordered, and shooting became at oncethe drill and the amusement of the people. Every hamlet had its pair ofbutts; and on Sundays and holidays[66] all able-bodied men were required toappear in the field, to employ their leisure hours "as valyant Englishmenought to do, " "utterly leaving the play at the bowls, quoits, dice, kails, and other unthrifty games;" magistrates, mayors, and bailiffs beingresponsible for their obedience, under penalty, if these officers neglectedtheir duty, of a fine of twenty shillings for each offence. On the samedays, the tilt-yard at the Hall or Castle was thrown open, and the youngmen of rank amused themselves with similar exercises. Fighting, or mockfighting--and the imitation was not unlike the reality--was at once thehighest enjoyment and the noblest accomplishment of all ranks in the state;and over that most terrible of human occupations they had flung theenchanted halo of chivalry, decorating it with all the fairest graces, andconsecrating it with the most heroic aspirations. 

The chivalry, with much else, was often perhaps something ideal. In thewars of the Roses it had turned into mere savage ferocity; and in fortyyears of carnage the fighting propensities had glutted themselves. Areaction followed, and in the early years of Henry VIII. The statutes weregrowing obsolete, and the "unlawful games" rising again into favour. Theyounger nobles, or some among them, were shrinking from the tilt-yard, andwere backward on occasions even when required for war. Lord Surrey, whenwaiting on the Border, expecting the Duke of Albany to invade the northerncounties, in 1523, complained of the growing "slowness" of the young lords"to be at such journeys, "[67] and of their "inclination to dancing, carding, and dicing. " The people had followed the example, and were fallingout of archery practice, exchanging it for similar amusements. Henry VIII. , in his earlier days an Englishman after the old type, set himselfresolutely to oppose these downward tendencies, and to brace again theslackened sinews of the nation. In his own person he was the best rider, the best lance, and the best archer in England; and while a boy he wasdreaming of fresh Agincourts, and even of fresh crusades. In 1511, when hehad been king only three years, parliament re-enacted the Winchesterstatute, with new and remarkable provisions; and twice subsequently in thecourse of his reign he returned back upon the subject, insisting upon itwith increasing stringency. The language of the Act of 1511 is not a littlestriking. "The King's Highness, " so the words run, "calling to his graciousremembrance that by the feats and exercise of the subjects of his realm inshooting in long bows, there had continually grown and been within the samegreat numbers and multitudes of good archers, which hath not only defendedthe realm and the subjects thereof against the cruel malice and dangers oftheir enemies in times heretofore past, but also, with little numbers andpuissance in regard of their opposites, have done many notable acts anddiscomfitures of war against the infidels and others; and furthermorereduced divers regions and countries to their due obeysance, to the greathonour, fame, and surety of this realm and subjects, and to the terribledread and fear of all strange nations, anything to attempt or do to thehurt or damage of them: Yet nevertheless that archery and shooting in longbows is but little used, but daily does minish and decay, and abate moreand more; for that much part of the commonalty and poor people of thisrealm, whereby of old time the great number and substance of archers hadgrown and multiplied, be not of power nor ability to buy them long bows ofyew to exercise shooting in the same, and to sustain the continual chargethereof; and also because, by means and occasions of customable usage oftennis play, bowles, claish and other unlawful games, prohibited by manygood and beneficent statutes, much impoverishment hath ensued: Wherefore, the King's Highness, of his great wisdom and providence, and also for zealto the public weal, surety, and defence of this his realm, and the antientfame in this behalf to be revived, by the assent of his Lords Spiritual andTemporal, and his Commons in this present parliament assembled, hathenacted and established that the statute of Winchester for archers be putin due execution; and over that, that every man being the king's subject, not lame, decrepit, or maimed, being within the age of sixty years, exceptspiritual men, justices of the one bench and of the other, justices of theassize, and barons of the exchequer, do use and exercise shooting in longbows, and also do have a bow and arrows ready continually in his house, touse himself in shooting. And that every man having a man child or menchildren in his house, shall provide for all such, being of the age ofseven years and above, and till they shall come to the age of seventeenyears, a bow and two shafts, to learn them and bring them up in shooting;and after such young men shall come to the age of seventeen years, every ofthem shall provide and have a bow and four arrows continually for himself, at his proper costs and charges, or else of the gift and provision of hisfriends, and shall use the same as afore is rehearsed. " Other provisionsare added, designed to suppress the games complained of, and to place thebows more within the reach of the poor, by cheapening the prices of them. 

The same statute[68] (and if this be a proof that it had imperfectlysucceeded, it is a proof also of Henry's confidence in the generalattachment of his subjects) was re-enacted thirty years later, at thecrisis of the Reformation, when the northern counties were fermenting in ahalf-suppressed rebellion, and the catholics at home and abroad wereintriguing to bring about a revolution. In this subsequent edition ofit[69] some particulars are added which demand notice. In the directions tothe villages for the maintaining each "a pair of buttes, " it is orderedthat no person above the age of twenty-four shall shoot with the lightflight arrow at a distance under two hundred and twenty yards. Up to twohundred and twenty yards, therefore, the heavy war arrow was used, and thisis to be taken as the effective range for fighting purposes of the oldarchery. [70] No measures could have been invented more effective than thisvigorous arming to repress the self-seeking tendencies in the mercantileclasses which I have mentioned as beginning to show themselves. Capitalsupported by force may make its own terms with labour; but capital lyingbetween a king on one side resolved to prevent oppression, and a people onthe other side in full condition to resist, felt even prudence dictatemoderation, and reserved itself for a more convenient season. 

Looking, therefore, at the state of England as a whole, I cannot doubt thatunder Henry the body of the people were prosperous, well-fed, loyal, andcontented. In all points of material comfort they were as well off as theyhad ever been before; better off than they have ever been in later times. 

Their amusements, as prescribed by statute, consisted in trainingthemselves as soldiers. In the prohibitions of the statutes we see alsowhat their amusements were inclined to be. But besides "the bowles and theclaish, " field sports, fishing, shooting, hunting, were the delight ofevery one, and although the forest laws were terrible, they served only toenhance the excitement by danger. Then, as now, no English peasant could beconvinced that there was any moral crime in appropriating the wild game. Itwas an offence against statute law, but no offence against natural law; andit was rather a trial of skill between the noble who sought to monopolise aright which seemed to be common to all, and those who would succeed, ifthey could, in securing their own share of it. The Robin Hood balladsreflect the popular feeling and breathe the warm genial spirit of the oldgreenwood adventurers. If deer-stealing was a sin, it was more thancompensated by the risk of the penalty to which those who failed submitted, when no other choice was left. They did not always submit, as the oldnorthern poem shows of _Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and William ofCloudislee_, with its most immoral moral; yet I suppose there was neverpedant who could resist the spell of those ringing lines, or refuse withall his heart to wish the rogues success, and confusion to the honest men. 

But the English peasantry had pleasures of less ambiguous propriety, andless likely to mislead our sympathies. The chroniclers have given us manyaccounts of the masques and plays which were acted in the court, or in thecastles of the noblemen. Such pageants were but the most splendidexpression of a taste which was national and universal. As in ancientGreece, generations before the rise of the great dramas of Athens, itinerant companies wandered from village to village, carrying their stagefurniture in their little carts, and acted in their booths and tents thegrand stories of the mythology; so in England the mystery players hauntedthe wakes and fairs, and in barns or taverns, taprooms, or in the farmhousekitchen, played at saints and angels, and transacted on their petty stagethe drama of the Christian faith. To us, who can measure the effect of suchscenes only by the impression which they would now produce upon ourselves, these exhibitions can seem but unspeakably profane; they were not profanewhen tendered in simplicity, and received as they were given. They were nomore profane than those quaint monastic illuminations which formed the germof Italian art; and as out of the illuminations arose those paintings whichremain unapproached and unapproachable in their excellence, so out of themystery plays arose the English drama, represented in its finalcompleteness by the creations of a poet who, it now begins to be supposed, stands alone among mankind. We allow ourselves to think of Shakspeare or ofRaphael or of Phidias, as having accomplished their work by the power oftheir own individual genius; but greatness like theirs is never more thanthe highest degree of an excellence which prevails widely round it, andforms the environment in which it grows. No single mind in single contactwith the facts of nature could have created out of itself a Pallas, aMadonna, or a Lear; such vast conceptions are the growth of ages, thecreations of a nation's spirit; and artist and poet, filled full with thepower of that spirit, have but given them form, and nothing more than form. Nor would the form itself have been attainable by any isolated talent. Nogenius can dispense with experience; the aberrations of power, unguided orill-guided, are ever in proportion to its intensity, and life is not longenough to recover from inevitable mistakes. Noble conceptions alreadyexisting, and a noble school of execution which will launch mind and handat once upon their true courses, are indispensable to transcendentexcellence; and Shakspeare's plays were as much the offspring of the longgenerations who had pioneered his road for him, as the discoveries ofNewton were the offspring of those of Copernicus. 

No great general ever arose out of a nation of cowards; no great statesmanor philosopher out of a nation of fools; no great artist out of a nation ofmaterialists; no great dramatist except when the drama was the passion ofthe people. Acting was the especial amusement of the English, from thepalace to the village green. It was the result and expression of theirpower over themselves, and power over circumstances. They were troubledwith no subjective speculations; no social problems vexed them with whichthey were unable to deal; and in the exuberance of vigour and spirits theywere able, in the strict and literal sense of the word, to play with thematerials of life. The mystery plays came first; next the popular legends;and then the great figures of English history came out upon the stage, orstories from Greek and Roman writers; or sometimes it was an extemporisedallegory. Shakspeare himself has left us many pictures of the villagedrama. Doubtless he had seen many a Bottom in the old Warwickshire hamlets;many a Sir Nathaniel playing "Alissander, " and finding himself "a littleo'erparted. " He had been with Snug the joiner, Quince the carpenter, andFlute the bellows-mender, when a boy we will not question, and acted withthem, and written their parts for them; had gone up with them in thewinter's evenings to the Lucy's Hall before the sad trouble with thedeer-stealing; and afterwards, when he came to London and found his wayinto great society, he had not failed to see Polonius burlesquing Cæsar onthe stage, as in his proper person Polonius burlesqued Sir William Cecil. The strolling players in _Hamlet_ might be met at every country wake orfestival; it was the direction in which the especial genius of the peopledelighted to revel. As I desire in this chapter not only to relate whatwere the habits of the people, but to illustrate them also, within suchcompass as I can allow myself, I shall transcribe out of Hall[71] adescription of a play which was acted by the boys of St. Paul's School, in1527, at Greenwich, adding some particulars, not mentioned by Hall, fromanother source. [72] It is a good instance of the fantastic splendour withwhich exhibitions of this kind were got up, and it possesses also amelancholy interest of another kind, as showing how little the wisest amongus can foresee our own actions, or assure ourselves that the convictions ofto-day will alike be the convictions of to-morrow. The occasion was thedespatch of a French embassy to England, when Europe was outraged by theDuke of Bourbon's capture of Rome, when the children of Francis I. Wereprisoners in Spain, and Henry, with the full energy of his fiery nature, was flinging himself into a quarrel with Charles V. As the champion of theHoly See. 

At the conclusion of a magnificent supper "the king led the ambassadorsinto the great chamber of disguisings; and in the end of the same chamberwas a fountain, and on one side was a hawthorne tree, all of silk, withwhite flowers, and on the other side was a mulberry tree full of fairberries, all of silk. On the top of the hawthorne were the arms of England, compassed with the collar of the order[73] of St. Michael, and in the topof the mulberry tree stood the arms of France within a garter. The fountainwas all of white marble, graven and chased; the bases of the same wereballs of gold, supported by ramping beasts wound in leaves of gold. In thefirst work were gargoylles of gold, fiercely faced with spouts running. Thesecond receit of this fountain was environed with winged serpents, all ofgold, which griped it; and on the summit of the same was a fair lady, outof whose breasts ran abundantly water of marvellous delicious savour. Aboutthis fountain were benches of rosemary, fretted in braydes laid on gold, all the sides set with roses, on branches as they were growing about thisfountain. On the benches sate eight fair ladies in strange attire, and sorichly apparelled in cloth of gold, embroidered and cut over silver, that Icannot express the cunning workmanship thereof. Then when the king andqueen were set, there was played before them, by children, in the Latintongue, a manner of tragedy, the effect whereof was that the pope was incaptivity and the church brought under foot. Whereupon St. Peter appearedand put the cardinal (Wolsey) in authority to bring the pope to hisliberty, and to set up the church again. And so the cardinal madeintercession with the kings of England and France that they took parttogether, and by their means the pope was delivered. Then in came theFrench king's children, and complained to the cardinal how the emperourkept them as hostages, and would not come to reasonable point with theirfather, whereupon they desired the cardinal to help for their deliverance;which wrought so with the king his master and the French king that hebrought the emperour to a peace, and caused the two young princes to bedelivered. " So far Hall relates the scene, but there was more in the playthan he remembered or cared to notice, and I am able to complete thiscurious picture of a pageant once really and truly a living spectacle inthe old palace at Greenwich, by an inventory of the dresses worn by theboys and a list of the _dramatis personæ_. 

The school-boys of St. Paul's were taken down the river with the master insix boats, at the cost of a shilling a boat--the cost of the dresses andthe other expenses amounting in all to sixty-one shillings. 

The characters were--

An orator in apparel of cloth of gold. 

Religio, Ecclesia, Veritas, like three widows, in garments of silk, andsuits of lawn and Cyprus. 

Heresy and False Interpretation, like sisters of Bohemia, apparelled insilk of divers colours. 

The heretic Luther, like a party friar, in russet damask and black taffety. 

Luther's wife, like a frow of Spiers in Almayn, in red silk. 

Peter, Paul, and James, in habits of white sarsnet, and three red mantles, and lace of silver and damask, and pelisses of scarlet. 

A Cardinal in his apparel. 

Two Sergeants in rich apparel. 

The Dolphin and his brother in coats of velvet embroidered with gold, andcapes of satin bound with velvet. 

A Messenger in tinsel satin. 

Six men in gowns of grey sarsnet. 

Six women in gowns of crimson velvet. 

War, in rich cloth of gold and feathers, armed. 

Three Almeyns, in apparel all cut and holed in silk. 

Lady Peace in lady's apparel white and rich. 

Lady Quietness and Dame Tranquillity richly beseen in lady's apparel. 

It is a strange world. This was in November, 1527. In November, 1530, butthree brief years after, Wolsey lay dying in misery, a disgraced man, atLeicester Abbey; "the Pope's Holiness" was fast becoming in English eyesplain Bishop of Rome, held guilty towards this realm of unnumberedenormities, and all England was sweeping with immeasurable velocity towardsthe heretic Luther. So history repeats the lesson to us, not to boastourselves of the morrow, for we know not what a day may bring forth. 

Before I conclude this survey, it remains for me to say something of theposition of the poor, and of the measures which were taken for the solutionof that most difficult of all problems, the distinguishing the trulydeserving from the worthless and the vagabond. The subject is one to whichin the progress of this work I shall have more than one occasion to return;but inasmuch as a sentimental opinion prevails that an increase of povertyand the consequent enactment of poor-laws was the result of the suppressionof the religious houses, and that adequate relief had been previouslyfurnished by these establishments, it is necessary to say a few words forthe removal of an impression which is as near as possible the reverse ofthe truth. I do not doubt that for many centuries these houses fulfilledhonestly the intentions with which they were established; but as early asthe reign of Richard II. It was found necessary to provide some other meansfor the support of the aged and impotent; the monasteries not only havingthen begun to neglect their duty; but by the appropriation of beneficeshaving actually deprived the parishes of their local and independent meansof charity. [74] Licences to beg were at that time granted to deservingpersons; and it is noticeable that this measure was in a few years followedby the petition to Henry IV. For the secularisation of ecclesiasticalproperty. [75] Thus early in our history had the regular clergy forgottenthe nature of their mission, and the object for which the administration ofthe nation's charities had been committed to them. Thus early, while theirhouses were the nurseries of dishonest mendicancy, [76] they had surrenderedto lay compassion, those who ought to have been their especial care. Ishall unhappily have occasion hereafter to illustrate these matters indetail. I mention them in this place only in order to dissipate at once afoolish dream. At the opening of the sixteenth century, before thesuppression of the monasteries had suggested itself in a practical form, pauperism was a state question of great difficulty, and as such I have atpresent to consider it. 

For the able-bodied vagrant, it is well known that the old English laws hadno mercy. When wages are low, and population has outgrown the work whichcan be provided for it, idleness may be involuntary and innocent; at a timewhen all industrious men could maintain themselves in comfort andprosperity, "when a fair day's wages for a fair day's work" was really andtruly the law of the land, it was presumed that if strong capable menpreferred to wander about the country, and live upon the labour of others, mendicancy was not the only crime of which they were likely to be guilty;while idleness itself was justly looked upon as a high offence, andmisdemeanour. The penalty of God's laws against idleness, as expressed inthe system of nature, was starvation; and it was held intolerable that anyman should be allowed to escape a divine judgment by begging under falsepretences, and robbing others of their honest earnings. 

In a country also the boast of which was its open-handed hospitality, itwas necessary to take care that hospitality was not brought to discredit byabuse; and when every door was freely opened to a request for a meal or anight's lodging, there was an imperative duty to keep a strict eye onwhatever persons were on the move. We shall therefore be prepared to find"sturdy and valiant beggars" treated with summary justice as criminals of ahigh order; the right of a government so to treat them being proportionedto the facilities with which the honestly disposed can maintain themselves. 

It might have been expected, on the other hand, that when wages were sohigh, and work so constant, labourers would have been left to themselves tomake provision against sickness and old age. To modern ways of thinking onthese subjects, there would have seemed no hardship in so leaving them; andtheir sufferings, if they had suffered, would have appeared but as adeserved retribution. This, however, was not the temper of earlier times. Charity has ever been the especial virtue of Catholic States, and the agedand the impotent were always held to be the legitimate objects of it. Menwho had worked hard while they were able to work were treated like decayedsoldiers, as the discharged pensionaries of society; they were heldentitled to wear out their age (under restrictions) at the expense ofothers; and so readily did society acquiesce in this aspect of itsobligations, that on the failure of the monasteries to do their duty, itwas still sufficient to leave such persons to voluntary liberality, andlegislation had to interfere only to direct such liberality into itslegitimate channels. In the 23rd of Edw. III. Cap. 7, a prohibition wasissued against giving alms to "valiant beggars, " and this provinginadequate, and charity being still given indiscriminately, in the twelfthyear of Richard II. The system of licences was introduced, and a pair ofstocks was erected by order in every town or village, to "justify" personsbegging unpermitted. The monasteries growing more and more careless, thenumber of paupers continued to multiply, and this method receivedsuccessive expansions, till at length, when the Reformation was concluded, it terminated, after many changes of form, in the famous Act of Elizabeth. We can thus trace our poor law in the whole course of its growth, and intotwo stages through which it passed I must enter with some minuteness. The12th of the 22nd of Henry VIII. , and the 25th of the 27th, are soremarkable in their tone, and so rich in their detail, as to furnish acomplete exposition of English thought at that time upon the subject; whilethe second of these two acts, and probably the first also, has a furtherinterest for us, as being the composition of Henry himself, and the mostfinished which he has left to us. [77]

"Whereas, " says the former of these two Acts, "in all places throughoutthis realm of England, vagabonds and beggars have of long time increased, and daily do increase in great and excessive numbers, by the occasion ofidleness, mother and root of all vices; whereby hath insurged and sprung, and daily insurgeth and springeth, continual thefts, murders, and otherheinous offences and great enormities, to the high displeasure of God, theinquietation and damage of the king's people, and to the marvellousdisturbance of the common weal of this realm; and whereas, strait statutesand ordinances have been before this time devised and made, as well by theking our sovereign lord, as also by divers his most noble progenitors, kings of England, for the most necessary and due reformation of thepremises; yet that notwithstanding, the said number of vagabonds andbeggars be not seen in any part to be diminished, but rather dailyaugmented and increased into great routs or companies, as evidently andmanifestly it doth and may appear: Be it therefore enacted by the king oursovereign lord, and by the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and the Commons, in this present parliament assembled, that the justices of the peace of alland singular the shires of England within the limits of their commission, and all other justices of the peace, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, and otherofficers of every city, borough, or franchise, shall from time to time, asoften as need shall require, make diligent search and inquiry of all aged, poor, and impotent persons, which live, or of necessity be compelled tolive by alms of the charity of the people; and such search made, the saidofficers, every of them within the limits of their authorities, shall havepower, at their discretions, to enable to beg within such limits as theyshall appoint, such of the said impotent persons as they shall thinkconvenient; and to give in commandment to every such impotent beggar (bythem enabled) that none of them shall beg without the limits so appointedto them. And further, they shall deliver to every such person so enabled aletter containing the name of that person, witnessing that he is authorisedto beg, and the limits within which he is appointed to beg, the same letterto be sealed with the seal of the hundred, rape, wapentake, city, orborough, and subscribed with the name of one of the said justices orofficers aforesaid. And if any such impotent person do beg in any otherplace than within such limits, then the justices of the peace, and allother the king's officers and ministers, shall by their discretions punishall such persons by imprisonment in the stocks, by the space of two daysand two nights, giving them only bread and water. "

Further, "If any such impotent person be found begging without a licence, at the discretion of the justices of the peace, he shall be stripped nakedfrom the middle upwards, and whipped within the town in which he be found, or within some other town, as it shall seem good. Or if it be notconvenient so to punish him, he shall be set in the stocks by the space ofthree days and three nights. "

Such were the restrictions under which impotency was allowed support. Though not in itself treated as an offence, and though its right tomaintenance by society was not denied, it was not indulged, as we may see, with unnecessary encouragement. The Act then proceeds to deal with thegenuine vagrant. 

"And be it further enacted, that if any person or persons, being whole andmighty in body and able to labour, be taken in begging in any part of thisrealm; and if any man or woman, being whole and mighty in body, having noland, nor master, nor using any lawful merchandry, craft, or mysterywhereby he might get his living, be vagrant, and can give none account howhe doth lawfully get his living, then it shall, be lawful to the constablesand all other king's officers, ministers, and subjects of every town, parish, and hamlet, to arrest the said vagabonds and idle persons, andbring them to any justice of the peace of the same shire or liberty, orelse to the high constable of the hundred; and the justice of the peace, high constable, or other officer, shall cause such idle person so to himbrought, to be had to the next market town or other place, and there to betied to the end of a cart, naked, and be beaten with whips throughout thesame town till his body be bloody by reason of such whipping; and aftersuch punishment of whipping had, the person so punished shall be enjoinedupon his oath to return forthwith without delay, in the next and straightway, to the place where he was born, or where he last dwelled before thesame punishment, by the space of three years; and then put himself tolabour like a true man ought to do; and after that done, every such personso punished and ordered shall have a letter, sealed with the seal of thehundred, rape, or wapentake, witnessing that he hath been punishedaccording to this estatute, and containing the day and place of hispunishment, and the place where unto he is limited to go, and by what timehe is limited to come thither: for that within that time, showing the saidletter, he may lawfully beg by the way, and otherwise not; and if he do notaccomplish the order to him appointed by the said letter, then to beeftsoons taken and whipped; and so often as there be fault found in him, tobe whipped till he has his body put to labour for his living, or otherwisetruly get his living, so long as he is able to do so. "

Then follow the penalties against the justices of the peace, constables, and all officers who neglect to arrest such persons; and a singularlycurious catalogue is added of certain forms of "sturdy mendicancy, " which, if unspecified, might have been passed over as exempt, but to which Henryhad no intention of conceding further licence. It seems as if, in framingthe Act, he had Simon Fish's petition before him, and was commencing atlast the rough remedy of the cart's-tail, which Fish had dared to recommendfor a very obdurate evil. [78] The friars of the mendicant orders weretolerated for a few years longer; but many other spiritual persons may havesuffered seriously under the provisions of the present statute. 

"Be it further enacted, " the Act continues, "that scholars of theUniversities of Oxford and Cambridge, that go about begging, not beingauthorised under the seal of the said universities, by the commissary, chancellor, or vice-chancellor of the same; and that all and singularshipmen pretending losses of their ships and goods, going about the countrybegging without sufficient authority, shall be punished and ordered inmanner and form as is above rehearsed of strong beggars; and that allproctors and pardoners, and all other idle persons going about in countiesor abiding in any town, city, or borough, some of them using divers subtle, crafty, and unlawful games and plays, and some of them feigning themselvesto have knowledge in physick, physnamye, and palmistry, or other craftyscience, whereby they bear the people in hand that they can tell theirdestinies, dreams, and fortunes, and such other like fantasticalimaginations, to the great deceit of the king's subjects, shall, uponexamination had before two justices of the peace, if by provable witnessthey be found guilty of such deceits, be punished by whipping at two daystogether, after the manner before rehearsed. And if they eftsoons offend inthe same or any like offence, to be scourged two days, and the third day tobe put upon the pillory, from nine o'clock till eleven the forenoon of thesame day, and to have the right ear cut off; and if they offend the thirdtime, to have like punishment with whipping and the pillory, and to havethe other ear cut off. "

It would scarcely have been expected that this Act would have failed forwant of severity in its penalties; yet five years later, for this and forsome other reasons, it was thought desirable to expand the provisions ofit, enhancing the penalties at the same time to a degree which has given abloody name in the history of English law to the statutes of Henry VIII. Ofthis expanded statute[79] we have positive evidence, as I said, that Henrywas himself the author. The merit of it, or the guilt of it--if guilt therebe--originated with him alone. The early clauses contain practicalamendments of an undoubtedly salutary kind. The Act of 1531 had beendefective in that no specified means had been assigned for finding vagrantsin labour, which, with men of broken character, was not immediately easy. The smaller monasteries having been suppressed in the interval, andsufficient funds being thus placed at the disposal of the government, public works[80] were set on foot throughout the kingdom, and thisdifficulty was obviated. 

Another important alteration was a restriction upon private charity. Private persons were forbidden, under heavy penalties, to give money tobeggars, whether deserving or undeserving. The poor of each parish mightcall at houses within the boundaries for broken meats; but this was thelimit of personal almsgiving; and the money which men might be disposed tooffer was to be collected by the churchwardens on Sundays and holidays inthe churches. The parish priest was to keep an account of receipts and ofexpenditure, and relief was administered with some approach to modernformalities. A further excellent but severe enactment empowered the parishofficers to take up all idle children above the age of five years, "andappoint them to masters of husbandry or other craft or labour to betaught;" and if any child should refuse the service to which he wasappointed, or run away "without cause reasonable being shown for it, " hemight be publicly whipped with rods, at the discretion of the justice ofthe peace before whom he was brought. 

So far, no complaint can be urged against these provisions: they displayonly that severe but true humanity, which, in offering fair and liberalmaintenance for all who will consent to be honest, insists, not unjustly, that its offer shall be accepted, and that the resources of charity shallnot be trifled away. On the clause, however, which gave to the Act itsespecial and distinguishing character, there will be large difference ofopinion. "The sturdy vagabond, " who by the earlier statute was condemned onhis second offence to lose the whole or a part of his right ear, wascondemned by the amended Act, if found a third time offending, with themark upon him of his mutilation, "to suffer pains and execution of death, as a felon and as an enemy of the commonwealth. " So the letter stands. Foran able-bodied man to be caught a third time begging was held a crimedeserving death, and the sentence was intended, on fit occasions, to beexecuted. The poor man's advantages, which I have estimated at so high arate, were not purchased without drawbacks. He might not change his masterat his will, or wander from place to place. He might not keep his childrenat his home unless he could answer for their time. If out of employment, preferring to be idle, he might be demanded for work by any master of the"craft" to which he belonged, and compelled to work whether he would or no. If caught begging once, being neither aged nor infirm, he was whipped atthe cart's tail. If caught a second time, his ear was slit, or boredthrough with a hot iron. If caught a third time, being thereby proved to beof no use upon this earth, but to live upon it only to his own hurt and tothat of others, he suffered death as a felon. So the law of Englandremained for sixty years. First drawn by Henry, it continued unrepealedthrough the reigns of Edward and of Mary, subsisting, therefore, with thedeliberate approval of both the great parties between whom the country wasdivided. Reconsidered under Elizabeth, the same law was again formallypassed; and it was, therefore, the expressed conviction of the Englishnation, that it was better for a man not to live at all than to live aprofitless and worthless life. The vagabond was a sore spot upon thecommonwealth, to be healed by wholesome discipline if the gangrene was notincurable; to be cut away with the knife if the milder treatment of thecart-whip failed to be of profit. [81]

A measure so extreme in its severity was partly dictated by policy. Thestate of the country was critical; and the danger from questionable personstraversing it unexamined and uncontrolled was greater than at ordinarytimes. But in point of justice, as well as of prudence, it harmonised withthe iron temper of the age, and it answered well for the government of afierce and powerful people, in whose hearts lay an intense hatred ofrascality, and among whom no one need have lapsed into evil courses exceptby deliberate preference for them. The moral substance of the English musthave been strong indeed when it admitted of such hardy treatment; but onthe whole, the people were ruled as they preferred to be ruled; and ifwisdom may be tested by success, the manner in which they passed the greatcrisis of the Reformation is the best justification of their princes. 

The era was great throughout Europe. The Italians of the age of MichaelAngelo; the Spaniards who were the contemporaries of Cortez; the Germanswho shook off the pope at the call of Luther; and the splendid chivalry ofFrancis I. Of France, were no common men. But they were all brought face toface with the same trials, and none met them as the English met them. TheEnglish alone never lost their self-possession; and if they owed somethingto fortune in their escape from anarchy, they owed more to the strong handand steady purpose of their rulers. 

To conclude this chapter then. 

In the brief review of the system under which England was governed, we haveseen a state of things in which the principles of political economy were, consciously or unconsciously, contradicted; where an attempt, more or lesssuccessful, was made to bring the production and distribution of wealthunder the moral rule of right and wrong; and where those laws of supply anddemand, which we are now taught to regard as immutable ordinances ofnature, were absorbed or superseded by a higher code. It is necessary forme to repeat that I am not holding up the sixteenth century as a modelwhich the nineteenth might safely follow. The population has become toolarge, employment has become too complicated and fluctuating, to admit ofexternal control; while, in default of control, the relapse uponself-interest as the one motive principle is certain to ensue, and when itensues is absolute in its operations. But as, even with us, these so-calledordinances of nature in time of war consent to be suspended, and duty tohis country becomes with every good citizen a higher motive of action thanthe advantages which he may gain in an enemy's market; so it is notuncheering to look back upon a time when the nation was in a normalcondition of militancy against social injustice; when the government wasenabled by happy circumstances to pursue into detail a single and seriousaim at the well-being--well-being in its widest sense--of all members ofthe commonwealth. The world, indeed, was not made particularly pleasant. Ofliberty, in the modern sense of the word, of the supposed right of everyman "to do what he will with his own" or with himself, there was no idea. To the question, if ever it was asked, May I not do what I will with myown? there was the brief answer, No man may do what is wrong, either withthat which is his own or with that which is another's. Workmen were notallowed to take advantage of the scantiness of the labour market to exactextravagant wages. Capitalists were not allowed to drive the labourers fromtheir holdings, and destroy their healthy independence. The antagonism ofinterests was absorbed into a relation of which equity was something morethan the theoretic principle, and employers and employed were alikeamenable to a law which both were compelled to obey. The working man ofmodern times has bought the extension of his liberty at the price of hismaterial comfort. The higher classes have gained in luxury what they havelost in power. It is not for the historian to balance advantages. His dutyis with the facts. 

CHAPTER II

THE LAST YEARS OF THE ADMINISTRATION OF WOLSEY

Times were changed in England since the second Henry walked barefootthrough the streets of Canterbury, and knelt while the monks flogged him onthe pavement in the Chapter-house, doing penance for Becket's murder. Theclergy had won the battle in the twelfth century because they deserved towin it. They were not free from fault and weakness, but they felt themeaning of their profession. Their hearts were in their vows, theirauthority was exercised more justly, more nobly, than the authority of thecrown; and therefore, with inevitable justice, the crown was compelled tostoop before them. The victory was great; but, like many victories, it wasfatal to the conquerors. It filled them full with the vanity of power; theyforgot their duties in their privileges; and when, a century later, theconflict recommenced, the altering issue proved the altering nature of theconditions under which it was fought. The laity were sustained in vigour bythe practical obligations of life; the clergy sunk under the influence of awaning religion, the administration of the forms of which had become theirsole occupation; and as character forsook them, the Mortmain Act, [82] theActs of Premunire, and the repeatedly recurring Statutes of Provisors markthe successive defeats that drove them back from the high post of commandwhich character alone had earned for them. If the Black Prince had lived, or if Richard II. Had inherited the temper of the Plantagenets, theecclesiastical system would have been spared the misfortune of a longerreprieve. Its worst abuses would have then terminated, and the reformationof _doctrine_ in the sixteenth century would have been left to fight itsindependent way unsupported by the moral corruption of the church fromwhich it received its most powerful impetus. The nation was ready forsweeping remedies. The people felt little loyalty to the pope, as thelanguage of the Statutes of Provisors[83] conclusively proves, and theywere prepared to risk the sacrilege of confiscating the estates of thereligious houses--a complete measure of secularisation being then, as Ihave already said, [84] the expressed desire of the House of Commons. [85]With an Edward III. On the throne such a measure would very likely havebeen executed, and the course of English history would have been changed. It was ordered otherwise, and doubtless wisely. The church was allowed ahundred and fifty more years to fill full the measure of her offences, thatshe might fall only when time had laid bare the root of her degeneracy, andthat faith and manners might be changed together. 

The history of the time is too imperfect to justify a positive conclusion. It is possible, however, that the success of the revolution effected byHenry IV. Was due in part to a reaction in the church's favour; and it iscertain that this prince, if he did not owe his crown to the support of thechurch, determined to conciliate it. He confirmed the Statutes ofProvisors, [86] but he allowed them to sink into disuse. He forbade thefurther mooting of the confiscation project; and to him is due the firstpermission of the bishops to send heretics to the stake. [87] If Englishtradition is to be trusted, the clergy still felt insecure; and the Frenchwars of Henry V. Are said to have been undertaken, as we all know fromShakspeare, at the persuasion of Archbishop Chichele, who desired todistract his attention from reverting to dangerous subjects. Whether thisbe true or not, no prince of the house of Lancaster betrayed a wish torenew the quarrel with the church. The battle of Agincourt, the conquestand re-conquest of France, called off the attention of the people; whilethe rise of the Lollards, and the intrusion of speculative questions, theagitation of which has ever been the chief aversion of English statesmen, contributed to change the current; and the reforming spirit must havelulled before the outbreak of the wars of the Roses, or one of the twoparties in so desperate a struggle would have scarcely failed to haveavailed themselves of it. Edward IV. Is said to have been lenient towardsheresy; but his toleration, if it was more than imaginary, was tacit only;he never ventured to avow it. It is more likely that in the inveteratefrenzy of those years men had no leisure to remember that heresy existed. 

The clergy were thus left undisturbed to go their own course to its naturalend. The storm had passed over them without breaking; and they did notdream that it would again gather. The immunity which they enjoyed from thegeneral sufferings of the civil war contributed to deceive them; andwithout anxiety for the consequences, and forgetting the significantwarning which they had received, they sank steadily into that conditionwhich is inevitable from the constitution of human nature, among menwithout faith, wealthy, powerful, and luxuriously fed, yet condemned tocelibacy, and cut off from the common duties and common pleasures ofordinary life. On the return of a settled government, they were startledfor a moment in their security; the conduct of some among them had becomeso unbearable, that even Henry VII. , who inherited the Lancastriansympathies, was compelled to notice it; and the following brief act waspassed by his first parliament, proving by the very terms in which it iscouched the existing nature of church discipline. "For the more sure andlikely reformation, " it runs, "of priests, clerks, and religious men, culpable, or by their demerits openly noised of incontinent living in theirbodies, contrary to their order, be it enacted, ordained, and established, that it be lawful to all archbishops and bishops, and other ordinarieshaving episcopal jurisdiction, to punish and chastise such religious men, being within the bounds of their jurisdiction, as shall be convict beforethem, by lawful proof, of adultery, fornication, incest, or other fleshlyincontinency, by committing them to ward and prison, there to remain forsuch time as shall be thought convenient for the quality of theirtrespasses. "[88]

Previous to the passing of this act, therefore, the bishops, who had powerto arrest laymen on suspicion of heresy, and detain them in prisonuntried, [89] had no power to imprison priests, even though convicted ofadultery or incest. The legislature were supported by the Archbishop ofCanterbury. Cardinal Morton procured authority from the pope to visit thereligious houses, the abominations of which had become notorious;[90] andin a provincial synod held on the 24th of February, 1486, he laid thecondition of the secular clergy before the assembled prelates. Manypriests, it was stated, spent their time in hawking or hunting, in loungingat taverns, in the dissolute enjoyment of the world. They wore their hairlong like laymen; they were to be seen lounging in the streets with cloakand doublet, sword and dagger. By the scandal of their lives theyimperilled the stability of their order. [91] A number of the worstoffenders, in London especially, were summoned before the synod andadmonished;[92] certain of the more zealous among the learned (_compluresdocti_) who had preached against clerical abuses were advised to be morecautious, for the avoiding of scandal;[93] but the archbishop, taking theduty upon himself, sent round a circular among the clergy of his province, exhorting them to general amendment. [94]

Yet this little cloud again disappeared. Henry VII. Sat too insecurely onhis throne to venture on a resolute reform, even if his feelings hadinclined him towards it, which they did not. Morton durst not resolutelygrapple with the evil. He rebuked and remonstrated; but punishment wouldhave caused a public scandal. He would not invite the inspection of thelaity into a disease which, without their assistance, he had not thestrength to encounter; and his incipient reformation died awayineffectually in words. The church, to outward appearance, stood moresecurely than ever. The obnoxious statutes of the Plantagenets were inabeyance, their very existence, as it seemed, was forgotten; and Thomas àBecket never desired more absolute independence for the ecclesiasticalorder than Archbishop Warham found established when he succeeded to theprimacy. He, too, ventured to repeat the experiment of his predecessor. In1511 he attempted a second visitation of the monasteries, and againexhorted a reform; but his efforts were even slighter than Morton's, and intheir results equally without fruit. The maintenance of his order in itspolitical supremacy was of greater moment to him than its moral purity: adecent veil was cast over the clerical infirmities, and their vices wereforgotten as soon as they ceased to be proclaimed. [95] Henry VIII. , a mereboy on his accession, was borne away with the prevailing stream; andtrained from his childhood by theologians, he entered upon his reignsaturated with theological prepossessions. The intensity of his naturerecognising no half measures, he was prepared to make them the law of hislife; and so zealous was he, that it seemed as if the church had found inhim a new Alfred or a Charlemagne. Unfortunately for the church, institutions may be restored in theory; but theory, be it never so perfect, will not give them back their life; and Henry discovered, at length, thatthe church of the sixteenth century as little resembled the church of theeleventh, as Leo X. Resembled Hildebrand, or Warham resembled St. Anselm. 

If, however, there were no longer saints among the clergy, there couldstill arise among them a remarkable man; and in Cardinal Wolsey the kingfound an adviser who was able to retain him longer than would otherwisehave been possible in the course which he had entered upon; who, holding amiddle place between an English statesman and a catholic of the old order, was essentially a transition minister; and who was qualified, above all menthen living, by a combination of talent, honesty, and arrogance, to openquestions which could not again be closed when they had escaped the graspof their originator. Under Wolsey's influence Henry made war with Louis ofFrance, in the pope's quarrel, entered the polemic lists with Luther, andpersecuted the English protestants. But Wolsey could not blind himself tothe true condition of the church. He was too wise to be deceived withoutward prosperity; he knew well that there lay before it, in Europe and athome, the alternative of ruin or amendment; and therefore he familiarisedHenry with the sense that a reformation was inevitable, and dreaming thatit could be effected from within, by the church itself inspired with awiser spirit, he himself fell first victim of a convulsion which he hadassisted to create, and which he attempted too late to stay. 

His intended measures were approaching maturity, when all Europe wasstartled by the news that Rome had been stormed by the Imperial army, thatthe pope was imprisoned, the churches pillaged, the cardinals insulted, andall holiest things polluted and profaned. A spectator, judging only byoutward symptoms, would have seen at that strange crisis in Charles V. Theworst patron of heresy, and the most dangerous enemy of the Holy See; whilethe indignation with which the news of these outrages was received at theEnglish court, would have taught him to look on Henry as the one sovereignin Europe on whom that See might calculate most surely for support in itshour of danger. If he could have pierced below the surface, he would havefound that the pope's best friend was the prince who held him prisoner;that Henry was but doubtfully acquiescing in the policy of an unpopularminister; and that the English nation would have looked on with stoicalresignation if pope and papacy had been wrecked together. They were notinclined to heresy; but the ecclesiastical system was not the catholicfaith; and this system, ruined by prosperity, was fast pressing itsexcesses to the extreme limit, beyond which it could not be endured. Wolseytalked of reformation, but delayed its coming; and in the mean time, thepersons to be reformed showed no fear that it would come at all. Themonasteries grew worse and worse. The people were taught only what theycould teach themselves. The consistory courts became more oppressive. Pluralities multiplied, and non-residence and profligacy. Favoured parishclergy held as many as eight benefices. [96] Bishops accumulated sees, and, unable to attend to all, attended to none. Wolsey himself, the churchreformer (so little did he really know what a reformation meant), was atonce Archbishop of York, Bishop of Winchester, of Bath, and of Durham, andAbbot of St. Alban's. In Latimer's opinion, even twenty years later, andafter no little reform in such matters, there was but one bishop in allEngland who was ever at his work and ever in his diocese. "I would ask astrange question, " he said, in an audacious sermon at Paul's Cross, "Who isthe most diligent bishop and prelate in all England, that passeth all therest in doing of his office?[97] I can tell, for I know him who it is; Iknow him well. But now I think I see you listening and hearkening that Ishould name him. There is one that passeth all the others, and is the mostdiligent prelate and preacher in all England. And will ye know who it is? Iwill tell you. It is the devil. Among all the pack of them that have cure, the devil shall go for my money, for he applieth his business. Therefore, ye unpreaching prelates, learn of the devil to be diligent in your office. If ye will not learn of God, for shame learn of the devil. "[98]

Under such circumstances, we need not be surprised to find the clergy sunklow in the respect of the English people. Sternly intolerant of eachother's faults, the laity were not likely to be indulgent to the vices ofmen who ought to have set an example of purity; and from time to time, during the first quarter of the century, there were explosions of temperwhich might have served as a warning if any sense or judgment had been leftto profit by it. 

In 1514 a London merchant was committed to the Lollards' Tower for refusingto submit to an unjust exaction of mortuary;[99] and a few days after wasfound dead in his cell. An inquest was held upon the body, when a verdictof wilful murder was returned against the chancellor of the Bishop ofLondon; and so intense was the feeling of the city, that the bishop appliedto Wolsey for a special jury to be chosen on the trial. "For assured I am, "he said, "that if my chancellor be tried by any twelve men in London, theybe so maliciously set _in favorem hæreticæ pravitatis_, that they will castand condemn any clerk, though he were as innocent as Abel. "[100] Fish'sfamous pamphlet also shows the spirit which was seething; and though we maymake some allowance for angry rhetoric, his words have the clear ring ofhonesty in them; and he spoke of what he had seen and knew. The monks, hetells the king, "be they that have made a hundred thousand idle dissolutewomen in your realm, who would have gotten their living honestly in thesweat of their faces had not their superfluous riches allured them to lustand idleness. These be they that when they have drawn men's wives to suchincontinency, spend away their husbands' goods, make the women to run awayfrom their husbands, bringing both man, wife, and children to idleness, theft, and beggary. Yea, who is able to number the great broad bottomlessocean sea full of evils that this mischievous generation may bring upon usif unpunished?"[101]

Copies of this book were strewed about the London streets; Wolsey issued aprohibition against it, with the effect which such prohibitions usuallyhave. Means were found to bring it under the eyes of Henry himself; and themanner in which it was received by him is full of significance, and betraysthat the facts of the age were already telling on his understanding. He wasalways easy of access and easy of manner; and the story, although it restson Foxe's authority, has internal marks of authenticity. 

"One Master Edmund Moddis, being with the king in talk of religion, and ofthe new books that were come from beyond the seas, said that if it mightplease his Highness to pardon him, and such as he would bring to his Grace, he should see such a book as it was a marvel to hear of. The king demandedwho they were? He said 'Two of your merchants--George Elliot and GeorgeRobinson. ' The king appointed a time to speak with them. When they camebefore his presence in a privy closet, he demanded what they had to say orto shew him. One of them said that there was a book come to their handswhich they had there to shew his Grace. When he saw it he demanded if anyof them could read it. 'Yea, ' said George Elliot, 'if it please your Graceto hear it. ' 'I thought so, ' said the king; 'if need were, thou couldst sayit without book. '

"The whole book being read out, the king made a long pause, and then said, 'If a man should pull down an old stone wall, and should begin at the lowerpart, the upper part thereof might chance to fall upon his head. ' Then hetook the book, and put it in his desk, and commanded them, on theirallegiance, that they should not tell any man that he had seen it. "[102]

Symptoms such as these boded ill for a self-reform of the church, and itwas further imperilled by the difficulty which it is not easy to believethat Wolsey had forgotten. No measures would be of efficacy which sparedthe religious houses, and they would be equally useless unless the bishops, as well as the inferior clergy, were comprehended in the scheme ofamendment. But neither with monks nor bishops could Wolsey interfere exceptby a commission from the pope, and the laws were unrepealed which forbadeEnglish subjects, under the severest penalties, to accept or exercisewithin the realm an authority which they had received from the Holy See. Morton had gone beyond the limits of the statute of provisors in receivingpowers from Pope Innocent to visit the monasteries. But Morton had stoppedshort with inquiry and admonition. Wolsey, who was in earnest with thework, had desired and obtained a full commission as legate, but he couldonly make use of it at his peril. The statute slumbered, but it stillexisted. [103] He was exposing not himself only, but all persons, lay andclerical, who might recognise his legacy to a Premunire; and he knew wellthat Henry's connivance, or even expressed permission, could not avail himif his conduct was challenged. He could not venture to appeal toparliament. Parliament was the last authority whose jurisdiction achurchman would acknowledge in the concerns of the clergy; and his projectmust sooner or later have sunk, like those of his two predecessors, underits own internal difficulties, even if the accident had not arisen whichbrought the dispute to a special issue in its most vital point, and which, fostered by Wolsey for his own purposes, precipitated his ruin. 

It is never more difficult to judge equitably the actions of public menthan when private as well as general motives have been allowed to influencethem, or when their actions may admit of being represented as resultingfrom personal inclination, as well as from national policy. In life, as weactually experience it, motives slide one into the other, and the mostcareful analysis will fail adequately to sift them. In history, from theeffort to make our conceptions distinct, we pronounce upon these intricatematters with unhesitating certainty, and we lose sight of truth in thedesire to make it truer than itself. The difficulty is further complicatedby the different points of view which are chosen by contemporaries and byposterity. Where motives are mixed, men all naturally dwell most on thosewhich approach nearest to themselves: contemporaries whose interests are atstake overlook what is personal in consideration of what is to them ofbroader moment; posterity, unable to realise political embarrassments whichhave ceased to concern them, concentrate their attention on such featuresof the story as touch their own sympathies, and attend exclusively to theprivate and personal passions of the men and women whose character they areconsidering. 

These natural, and to some extent inevitable tendencies, explain thedifference with which the divorce between Henry VIII. And Catherine ofArragon has been regarded by the English nation in the sixteenth and in thenineteenth centuries. In the former, not only did the parliament profess todesire it, urge it, and further it, but we are told by a contemporary[104]that "all indifferent and discreet persons" judged that it was right andnecessary. In the latter, perhaps, there is not one of ourselves who hasnot been taught to look upon it as an act of enormous wickedness. In thesixteenth century, Queen Catherine was an obstacle to the establishment ofthe kingdom, an incentive to treasonable hopes. In the nineteenth, she isan outraged and injured wife, the victim of a false husband's fickleappetite. The story is a long and painful one, and on its personal sideneed not concern us here further than as it illustrates the privatecharacter of Henry. Into the public bearing of it I must enter at somelength, in order to explain the interest with which the nation threw itselfinto the question, and to remove the scandal with which, had nothing beenat stake beyond the inclinations of a profligate monarch, weary of hisqueen, the complaisance on such a subject of the lords and commons ofEngland would have coloured the entire complexion of the Reformation. 

The succession to the throne, although determined in theory by the ordinarylaw of primogeniture, was nevertheless, subject to repeated arbitrarychanges. The uncertainty of the rule was acknowledged and deplored by theparliament, [105] and there was no order of which the nation, with any unityof sentiment, compelled the observance. An opinion prevailed--not, Ibelieve, traceable to statute, but admitted by custom, and having the forceof statute in the prejudices of the nation--that no stranger born out ofthe realm could inherit. [106] Although the descent in the female line wasnot formally denied, no female sovereign had ever, in fact, sat upon thethrone. [107] Even Henry VII. Refused to strengthen his title by advancingthe claims of his wife: and the uncertainty of the laws of marriage, andthe innumerable refinements of the Romish canon law, which affected thelegitimacy of children, [108] furnished, in connection with the furtherambiguities of clerical dispensations, perpetual pretexts, wheneverpretexts were needed, for a breach of allegiance. So long, indeed, as thecharacter of the nation remained essentially military, it could as littletolerate an incapable king as an army in a dangerous campaign can bear withan inefficient commander; and whatever might be the theory of the title, when the sceptre was held by the infirm hand of an Edward II. , a RichardII. , or a Henry VI. , the difficulty resolved itself by force, and it waswrenched by a stronger arm from a grasp too feeble to retain it. Theconsent of the nation was avowed, even in the authoritative language of astatute, [109] as essential to the legitimacy of a sovereign's title; andSir Thomas More, on examination by the Solicitor-General, declared as hisopinion that parliament had power to depose kings if it so pleased. [110] Somany uncertainties on a point so vital had occasioned fearful episodes inEnglish history; the most fearful of them, which had traced its characterin blood in the private records of every English family, having been thelong struggle of the preceding century, from which the nation was stillsuffering, and had but recovered sufficiently to be conscious of what ithad endured. It had decimated itself for a question which involved noprinciple and led to no result, and perhaps the history of the world may besearched in vain for any parallel to a quarrel at once so desperate and sounmeaning. 

This very unmeaning character of the dispute increased the difficulty ofending it. In wars of conquest or of principle, when something definite isat stake, the victory is either won, or it is lost; the conduct ofindividual men, at all events, is overruled by considerations external tothemselves which admit of being weighed and calculated. In a war ofsuccession, where the great families were divided in their allegiance, andsupported the rival claimants in evenly balanced numbers, the inveteracy ofthe conflict increased with its duration, and propagated itself fromgeneration to generation. Every family was in blood feud with itsneighbour; and children, as they grew to manhood, inherited the duty ofrevenging their fathers' deaths. 

No effort of imagination can reproduce to us the state of this country inthe fatal years which intervened between the first rising of the Duke ofYork and the battle of Bosworth; and experience too truly convinced HenryVII. That the war had ceased only from general exhaustion, and not becausethere was no will to continue it. The first Tudor breathed an atmosphere ofsuspended insurrection, and only when we remember the probable effect uponhis mind of the constant dread of an explosion, can we excuse orunderstand, in a prince not generally cruel, the execution of the Earl ofWarwick. The danger of a bloody revolution may present an act of arbitraryor cowardly tyranny in the light of a public duty. 

Fifty years of settled government, however, had not been without theireffects. The country had collected itself; the feuds of the families hadbeen chastened, if they had not been subdued; while the increase of wealthand material prosperity had brought out into obvious prominence thoseadvantages of peace which a hot-spirited people, antecedent to experience, had not anticipated, and had not been able to appreciate. They were betterfed, better cared for, more justly governed than they had ever been before;and though abundance of unruly tempers remained, yet the wiser portion ofthe nation, looking back from their new vantage-ground, were able torecognise the past in its true hatefulness. Thenceforward a war ofsuccession was the predominating terror with English statesmen, and thesafe establishment of the reigning family bore a degree of importance whichit is possible that their fears exaggerated, yet which in fact was thedetermining principle of their action. 

It was therefore with no little anxiety that the council of Henry VIII. Perceived his male children, on whom their hopes were centred, either borndead, or dying one after another within a few days of their birth, as ifhis family were under a blight. When the queen had advanced to an age whichprecluded hope of further offspring, and the heir presumptive was an infirmgirl, the unpromising prospect became yet more alarming. The life of thePrincess Mary was precarious, for her health was weak from her childhood. If she lived, her accession would be a temptation to insurrection; if shedid not live, and the king had no other children, a civil war wasinevitable. At present such a difficulty would be disposed of by animmediate and simple reference to the collateral branches of the royalfamily; the crown would descend with even more facility than the propertyof an intestate to the next of kin. At that time, if the rule had beenrecognised, it would only have increased the difficulty, for the next heirin blood was James of Scotland; and, gravely as statesmen desired the unionof the two countries, in the existing mood of the people, the very stonesin London streets, it was said, [111] would rise up against a king ofScotland who claimed to enter England as sovereign. Even the parliamentitself declared in formal language that they would resist any attempt onthe part of the Scottish king "to the uttermost of their power. "[112]

As little, however, as the English would have admitted James's claims, would James himself have acknowledged their right to reject them. He wouldhave pleaded the sacred right of inheritance, refusing utterly theimaginary law which disentitled him: he would have pressed his title withall Scotland to back him, and probably with the open support of France. Centuries of humiliation remained unrevenged, which both France andScotland had endured at English hands. It was not likely that they wouldwaste an opportunity thrust upon them by Providence. The country might, itis true, have encountered this danger, serious as it would have been, ifthere had been hope that it would itself have agreed to any other choice. England had many times fought successfully against the same odds, and wouldhave cared little for a renewal of the struggle, if united in itself: butthe prospect on this side, also, was fatally discouraging. The elements ofthe old factions were dormant, but still smouldering. Throughout Henry'sreign a White Rose agitation had been secretly fermenting; without opensuccess, and without chance of success so long as Henry lived, butformidable in a high degree if opportunity to strike should offer itself. Richard de la Pole, the representative of this party, had been killed atPavia, but his loss had rather strengthened their cause than weakened it, for by his long exile he was unknown in England; his personal character waswithout energy; while he made place for the leadership of a far morepowerful spirit in the sister of the murdered Earl of Warwick, the Countessof Salisbury, mother of Reginald Pole. This lady had inherited, in nocommon degree, the fierce nature of the Plantagenets; born to command, shehad rallied round her the Courtenays, the Nevilles, and all the powerfulkindred of Richard the King Maker, her grandfather. Her Plantagenet descentwas purer than the king's; and if Mary died and Henry left no other issue, half England was likely to declare either for one of her sons, or for theMarquis of Exeter, the grandson of Edward IV. 

In 1515, when Giustiniani, [113] the Venetian ambassador, was at the court, the Dukes of Buckingham, of Suffolk, and of Norfolk, were also mentioned tohim as having each of them hopes of the crown. Buckingham, meddlingprematurely in the dangerous game, had lost his life for it; but in hisdeath he had strengthened the chance of Norfolk, who had married hisdaughter. Suffolk was Henry's brother-in-law;[114] chivalrous, popular, andthe ablest soldier of his day; and Lady Margaret Lennox, also, daughter ofthe Queen of Scotland by her second marriage, would not have wantedsupporters, and early became an object of intrigue. Indeed, as she had beenborn in England, it was held in parliament that she stood next in order tothe Princess Mary. [115]

Many of these claims were likely to be advanced if Henry died leaving adaughter to succeed him. They would all inevitably be advanced if he diedchildless; and no great political sagacity was required to foresee theprobable fate of the country if such a moment was chosen for a French andScottish invasion. The very worst disasters might be too surely looked for, and the hope of escape, precarious at the best, hung upon the frail threadof a single life. We may therefore imagine the dismay with which the nationsaw this last hope failing them--and failing them even in a manner moredangerous than if it had failed by death; for it did but add another doubt, when already there were too many. In order to detach France from Scotland, and secure, if possible, its support for the claims of the princess, it hadbeen proposed to marry the Princess Mary to a son of the French king. Thenegotiations were conducted through the Bishop of Tarbês, [116] and at thefirst conference the Bishop raised a question in the name of hisgovernment, on the validity of the papal dispensation granted by Julius theSecond, to legalise the marriage from which she was sprung. The abortivemarriage Scheme perished in its birth, but the doubt which had been raisedcould not perish with it. Doubt on such a subject once mooted might not beleft unresolved, even if the raising it thus publicly had not itselfdestroyed the frail chance of an undisputed succession. If the relations ofHenry with Queen Catherine had been of a cordial kind, it is possible thathe would have been contented with resentment; that he would have refused toreconsider a question which touched his honour and his conscience; and, united with parliament, would have endeavoured to bear down alldifficulties with a high hand. This at least he might have himselfattempted. Whether the parliament, with so precarious a future before them, would have consented, is less easy to say. Fortunately or unfortunately, the interests of the nation pointed out another road, which Henry had nounwillingness to enter. 

On the death of Prince Arthur, five months after his marriage, Henry VII. And the father of the Princess alike desired that the bond between theirfamilies thus broken should be re-united; and, as soon as it became clearthat Catherine had not been left pregnant (a point which, tacitly at least, she allowed to be considered uncertain at the time of her husband'sdecease), it was proposed that she should be transferred, with theinheritance of the crown, to the new heir. A dispensation was reluctantlygranted by the pope, [117] and reluctantly accepted by the English ministry. The Prince of Wales, who was no more than twelve years old at the time, wasunder the age at which he could legally sue for such an object; and aportion of the English council, the Archbishop of Canterbury among them, were unsatisfied, [118] both with the marriage itself, and with the adequacyof the forms observed in a matter of so dubious an import. The betrothaltook place at the urgency of Ferdinand. In the year following Henry VII. Became suddenly ill; Queen Elizabeth died; and superstition working on theprevious hesitation, misfortune was construed into an indication of thedispleasure of Heaven. The intention was renounced, and the prince, as soonas he had completed his fourteenth year, was invited and required todisown, by a formal act, the obligations contracted in his name. [119] Againthere was a change. The king lived on, the alarm yielded to the temptationsof covetousness. Had he restored Catherine to her father he must haverestored with her the portion of her dowry which had been already received;he must have relinquished the prospect of the moiety which had yet to bereceived. The negotiation was renewed. Henry VII. Lived to sign thereceipts for the first instalment of the second payment;[120] and on hisdeath, notwithstanding much general murmuring, [121] the young Henry, then aboy of eighteen, proceeded to carry out his father's ultimate intentions. The princess-dowager, notwithstanding what had passed, was still on herside willing;--and the difference of age (she was six years older thanHenry) seeming of little moment when both were comparatively young, theywere married. For many years all went well; opposition was silenced by thesuccess which seemed to have followed, and the original scruples wereforgotten. Though the marriage was dictated by political convenience, Henrywas faithful, with but one exception, to his wife's bed--no slight honourto him, if he is measured by the average royal standard in such matters;and, if his sons had lived to grow up around his throne, there is no reasonto believe that the peace of his married life would have been interrupted, or that, whatever might have been his private feelings, he would haveappeared in the world's eye other than acquiescent in his condition. 

But his sons had not lived; years passed on, bringing with them prematurebirths, children born dead, or dying after a few days or hours, [122] andthe disappointment was intense in proportion to the interests which were atissue. The especial penalty denounced against the marriage with a brother'swife[123] had been all but literally enforced; and the king found himselfgrowing to middle life and his queen passing beyond it with his prayersunheard, and no hope any longer that they might be heard. The disparity ofage also was more perceptible as time went by, while Catherine'sconstitution was affected by her misfortunes, and differences arose onwhich there is no occasion to dwell in these pages--differences which inthemselves reflected no discredit either on the husband or the wife, butwhich were sufficient to extinguish between two infirm human beings anaffection that had rested only upon mutual esteem, but had not assumed thecharacter of love. 

The circumstances in which Catherine was placed were of a kind which nosensitive woman could have endured without impatience and mortification;but her conduct, however natural, only widened the breach which personalrepugnance and radical opposition of character had already made too wide. So far Henry and she were alike that both had imperious tempers, and bothwere indomitably obstinate; but Henry was hot and impetuous, Catherine wascold and self-contained--Henry saw his duty through his wishes; Catherine, in her strong Castilian austerity, measured her steps by the letter of thelaw; the more her husband withdrew from her, the more she insisted upon herrelation to him as his wife; and continued with fixed purpose and immovablecountenance[124] to share his table and his bed long after she was aware ofhis dislike for her. 

If the validity of so unfortunate a connection had never been questioned, or if no national interests had been dependent on the continuance or theabolition of it, these discomforts were not too great to have been enduredin silence. They were not originally occasioned by any latent inclinationon the part of the king for another woman. They had arisen to their worstdimensions before he had ever seen Anne Boleyn, and were produced by causesof a wholly independent kind; and even if it had not been so, when weremember the tenor of his early life we need not think that he would havebeen unequal to the restraint which ordinary persons in similarcircumstances are able to impose on their caprices. The legates spoke nomore than the truth when they wrote to the pope, saying that "it was meremadness to suppose that the king would act as he was doing merely out ofdislike of the queen, or out of inclination, for another person; he was nota man whom harsh manners and an unpleasant disposition (_duri mores etinjucunda consuetudo_) could so far provoke; nor could any sane man believehim to be so infirm of character that sensual allurements would have ledhim to dissolve a connexion in which he had passed the flower of youthwithout stain or blemish, and in which he had borne himself in his trial soreverently and honourably. "[125] I consider this entirely true in a sensewhich no great knowledge of human nature is required to understand. Theking's personal dissatisfaction was great: if this had been all, however, it would have been extinguished or endured; but the interests of thenation, imperilled as they were by the maintenance of the marriage, entitled him to regard his position under another aspect. Even if themarriage in itself had never been questioned, he might justly have desiredthe dissolution of it; and when he recalled the circumstances under whichit was contracted, the hesitation of the council, the reluctance of thepope, the alarms and vacillation of his father, we may readily perceive howscruples of conscience must have arisen in a soil well prepared to receivethem--how the loss of his children must have appeared as a judicialsentence on a violation of the Divine law. The divorce presented itself tohim as a moral obligation, when national advantage combined withsuperstition to encourage what he secretly desired; and if he persuadedhimself that those public reasons, without which, in truth and fact, hewould not have stirred, were those that alone were influencing him, theself-deceit was of a kind with which the experience of most men willprobably have made them too familiar. In those rare cases where inclinationcoincides with right, we cannot be surprised if mankind should misleadthemselves with the belief that the disinterested motives weigh more withthem than the personal. 

A remarkable and very candid account of Henry's feelings is furnished byhimself in one of the many papers of instructions[126] which he forwardedto his secretary at Rome. Hypocrisy was not among his faults, and indetailing the arguments which were to be laid before the pope he hasexhibited a more complete revelation of what was passing in himself--andindirectly of his own nature in its strength and weakness--than he perhapsimagined while he wrote. The despatch is long and perplexed; the style thatof a man who saw his end clearly, and was vexed with the intricate anddishonest trifling with which his way was impeded, and which neverthelesshe was struggling to tolerate. The secretary was to say, "that the King'sHighness having above all other things his intent and mind ever foundedupon such respect unto Almighty God as to a Christian and catholic princedoth appertain, knowing the fragility and uncertainty of all earthlythings, and how displeasant unto God, how much dangerous to the soul, howdishonourable and damageable to the world it were to prefer vain andtransitory things unto those that be perfect and certain, hath in thiscause, doubt, and matter of matrimony, whereupon depend so high andmanifold consequences of greatest importance, always cast from his conceitthe darkness and blundering confusion of falsity, and specially hath hadand put before his eyes the light and shining brightness of truth; uponwhich foundation as a most sure base for perpetual tranquillity of hisconscience his Highness hath expressly resolved and determined with himselfto build and establish all his acts, deeds, and cogitations touching thismatter; without God did build the house, in vain they laboured that wentabout to build it; and all actions grounded upon that immovable fundamentof truth, must needs therein be firm, sound, whole, perfect, and worthy ofa Christian man; which if truth were put apart, they could not for the samereason be but evil, vain, slipper, uncertain, and in nowise permanent orendurable. " He then laboured to urge on the pope the duty ofstraightforward dealing; and dwelt in words which have a sad interest forus (when we consider the manner in which the subject of them has been dealtwith) on the judgment bar, not of God only, but of human posterity, atwhich his conduct would be ultimately tried. 

"The causes of private persons dark and doubtful be sometimes, " the kingsaid, "pretermitted and passed over as things more meet at some seasons tobe dissimuled than by continual strife and plea to nourish controversies. Yet since all people have their eyes conject upon princes, whose acts anddoings not only be observed in the mouths of them that now do live, butalso remain in such perpetual memory to our posterity [so that] the evil, if any there be, cannot but appear and come to light, there is no reasonfor toleration, no place for dissimulation; but [there is reason] moredeeply, highly, and profoundly to penetrate and search for the truth, sothat the same may vanquish and overcome, and all guilt, craft, andfalsehood clearly be extirpate and reject. "

I am anticipating the progress of the story in making these quotations; forthe main burden of the despatch concerns a forged document which had beenintroduced by the Roman lawyers to embarrass the process, and of which Ishall by-and-bye have to speak directly; but I have desired to illustratethe spirit in which Henry entered upon the general question--assuredly amore calm and rational one than historians have usually represented it tobe. In dealing with the obstacle which had been raised, he displayed a mostefficient mastery over himself, although he did not conclude withouttouching the pith of the matter with telling clearness. The secretary wasto take some opportunity of speaking to the pope privately; and of warninghim, "as of himself, " that there was no hope that the king would give way:he was to "say plainly to his Holiness that the king's desire and intent_convolare ad secundas nuptias non patitur negativum_; and whatsoevershould be found of bull, brief, or otherwise, his Highness found hisconscience so inquieted, his succession in such danger, and his most royalperson in such perplexity for things unknown and not to be spoken, thatother remedy there was not but his Grace to come by one way or other, andspecially at his hands, if it might be, to the desired end; and that allconcertation to the contrary should be vain and frustrate. "

So peremptory a conviction and so determined a purpose were of no suddengrowth, and had been probably maturing in his mind for years, when thegangrene was torn open by the Bishop of Tarbês, and accident precipitatedhis resolution. The momentous consequences involved, and the reluctance toencounter a probable quarrel with the emperor, might have long kept himsilent, except for some extraneous casualty; but the tree being thus rudelyshaken, the ripe fruit fell. The capture of Rome occurring almost at thesame moment, Wolsey caught the opportunity to break the Spanish alliance;and the prospect of a divorce was grasped at by him as a lever by which tothrow the weight of English power and influence into the papal scale, tocommit Henry definitely to the catholic cause. Like his acceptance oflegatine authority, the expedient was a desperate one, and if it failed itwas ruinous. The nation at that time was sincerely attached to Spain. Thealliance with the house of Burgundy was of old date; the commercialintercourse with Flanders was enormous, Flanders, in fact, absorbing allthe English exports; and as many as 15, 000 Flemings were settled in London. Charles himself was personally popular; he had been the ally of England inthe late French war; and when in his supposed character of leader of theanti-papal party in Europe he allowed a Lutheran army to desecrate Rome, hehad won the sympathy of all the latent discontent which was fermenting inthe population. France, on the other hand, was as cordially hated as Spainwas beloved. A state of war with France was the normal condition ofEngland; and the reconquest of it the universal dream from the cottage tothe castle. Henry himself, early in his reign, had shared in this delusiveambition; and but three years before the sack of Rome, when the Duke ofSuffolk led an army into Normandy, Wolsey's purposed tardiness in sendingreinforcements had alone saved Paris. [127]

There could be no doubt, therefore, that a breach with the emperor would ina high degree be unwelcome to the country. The king, and probably suchmembers of the council as were aware of his feelings, shrank from offeringan open affront to the Spanish people. , and anxious as they were for asettlement of the succession, perhaps trusted that advantage might be takenof some political contingency for a private arrangement; that Catherinemight be induced by Charles himself to retire privately, and sacrificeherself, of her free will, to the interests of the two countries. This, however, is no more than conjecture; I think it probable, because so manyEnglish statesmen were in favour at once of the divorce and of the Spanishalliance--two objects which, only on some such hypothesis, were compatible. The fact cannot be ascertained, however, because the divorce itself was notdiscussed at the council table until Wolsey had induced the king to changehis policy by the hope of immediate relief. 

Wolsey has revealed to us fully his own objects in a letter to Sir GregoryCassalis, his agent at Rome. He shared with half Europe in an impressionthat the emperor's Italian campaigns were designed to further theReformation; and of this central delusion he formed the keystone of hisconduct. "First condoling with his Holiness, " he wrote, "on the unhappyposition in which, with the college of the most reverend cardinals, he isplaced, [128] you shall tell him how, day and night, I am revolving by whatmeans or contrivance I may bring comfort to the church of Christ, and raisethe fallen state of our most Holy Lord. I care not whit it may cost me, whether of expense or trouble; nay, though I have to shed my blood, or givemy life for it, assuredly so long as life remains to me for this I willlabour. And how let me mention the great and marvellous effects which havebeen wrought by my instrumentality on the mind of my most excellent masterthe king, whom I have persuaded to unite himself with his Holiness in heartand soul. I urged innumerable reasons to induce him to part him from theemperor, to whom he clung with much tenacity. The most effective of themall was the constancy with which I assured him of the good-will andaffection which were felt for him by his Holiness, and the certainty thathis Holiness would furnish proof of his friendship in conceding his saidMajesty's requests, in such form as the church's treasure and the authorityof the Vicar of Christ shall permit, or so far as that authority extends ormay extend. I have undertaken, moreover, for all these things in theirutmost latitude, pledging my salvation, my faith, my honour and soul uponthem. I have said that his demands shall be granted amply and fully, without scruple, without room or occasion being left forafter-retractation; and the King's Majesty, in consequence, believing onthese my solemn asseverations that the Pope's Holiness is really and indeedwell inclined towards him, accepting what is spoken by me as spoken by thelegate of the Apostolic See, and therefore, as in the name of his Holiness, has determined to run the risk which I have pressed upon him; he will spareno labour or expense, he will disregard the wishes of his subjects, and theprivate interest of his Realm, to attach himself cordially and constantlyto the Holy See. "[129]

These were the words of a man who loved England well, but who loved Romebetter; and Wolsey has received but scanty justice from catholic writers, since he sacrificed himself for the catholic cause. His scheme was bold andwell laid, being weak only in that it was confessedly in contradiction tothe instincts and genius of the nation, by which, and by which alone, inthe long run, either this or any other country has been successfullygoverned. And yet he might well be forgiven if he ventured on an unpopularcourse in the belief that the event would justify him; and that, in unitingwith France to support the pope, he was not only consulting the trueinterest of England, but was doing what England actually desired, althoughblindly aiming at her object by other means. The French wars, howevertraditionally popular, were fertile only in glory. The rivalry of the twocountries was a splendid folly, wasting the best blood of both countriesfor an impracticable chimera; and though there was impatience ofecclesiastical misrule, though there was jealousy of foreign interference, and general irritation with the state of the church, yet the mass of thepeople hated protestantism even worse than they hated the pope, the clergy, and the consistory courts. They believed--and Wolsey was, perhaps, the onlyleading member of the privy council, except Archbishop Warham, who was notunder the same delusion--that it was possible for a national church toseparate itself from the unity of Christendom, and at the same time tocrush or prevent innovation of doctrine; that faith in the sacramentalsystem could still be maintained, though the priesthood by whom thosemysteries were dispensed should minister in gilded chains. This was theEnglish historical theory handed down from William Rufus, the second Henry, and the Edwards; yet it was and is a mere phantasm, a thing of words andpaper fictions, as Wolsey saw it to be. Wolsey knew well that anecclesiastical revolt implied, as a certainty, innovation of doctrine; thatplain men could not and would not continue to reverence the office of thepriesthood, when the priests were treated as the paid officials of anearthly authority higher than their own. He was not to be blamed if he tookthe people at their word; if he believed that, in their doctrinalconservatism, they knew and meant what they were saying: and the reactionwhich took place under Queen Mary, when the Anglican system had been triedand failed, and the alternative was seen to be absolute between a unionwith Rome or a forfeiture of catholic orthodoxy, prove after all that hewas wiser than in the immediate event he seemed to be; that if his policyhad succeeded, and if, strengthened by success, he had introduced into thechurch those reforms which he had promised and desired, [130] he would havesatisfied the substantial wishes of the majority of the nation. 

Like other men of genius, Wolsey also combined practical sagacity with anunmeasured power of hoping. As difficulties gathered round him, heencountered them with the increasing magnificence of his schemes; and afterthirty years' experience of public life, he was as sanguine as a boy. Armedwith this little lever of the divorce, he saw himself, in imagination, therebuilder of the catholic faith and the deliverer of Europe. The king beingremarried, and the succession settled, he would purge the Church ofEngland, and convert the monasteries into intellectual garrisons of piousand learned men, occupying the land from end to end. The feuds with Franceshould cease for ever, and, united in a holy cause, the two countriesshould restore the papacy, put down the German heresies, depose theemperor, and establish in his place some faithful servant of the church. Then Europe once more at peace, the hordes of the Crescent, which werethreatening to settle the quarrels of Christians in the West as they hadsettled them in the East--by the extinction of Christianity itself, --wereto be hurled back into their proper barbarism. [131] These magnificentvisions fell from him in conversations with the Bishop of Bayonne, and maybe gathered from hints and fragments of his correspondence. Extravagant asthey seem, the prospect of realising them was, humanly speaking, neitherchimerical nor even improbable. He had but made the common mistake of menof the world who are the representatives of an old order of things at thetime when that order is doomed and dying. He could not read the signs ofthe times; and confounded the barrenness of death with the barrenness of awinter which might be followed by a new spring and summer; he believed thatthe old life-tree of Catholicism, which in fact was but cumbering theground, might bloom again in its old beauty. The thing which he calledheresy was the fire of Almighty God, which no politic congregation ofprinces, no state machinery, though it were never so active, could trampleout; and as in the early years of Christianity the meanest slave who wasthrown to the wild beasts for his presence at the forbidden mysteries ofthe gospel, saw deeper, in the divine power of his faith, into the futureeven of this earthly world than the sagest of his imperial persecutors, soa truer political prophet than Wolsey would have been found in the mostignorant of those poor men, for whom his myrmidons were searching in thepurlieus of London, who were risking death and torture in disseminating thepernicious volumes of the English Testament. 

If we look at the matter, however, from a more earthly point of view, thecauses which immediately defeated Wolsey's policy were not such as humanforesight could have anticipated. We ourselves, surveying the variousparties in Europe with the light of our knowledge of the actual sequel, areperhaps able to understand their real relations; but if in 1527 a politicalastrologer had foretold that within two years of that time the pope and theemperor who had imprisoned him would be cordial allies, that the positionsof England and Spain toward the papacy would be diametrically reversed, andthat the two countries were on the point of taking their posts, which theywould ever afterwards maintain, as the champions respectively of theopposite principles to those which at that time they seemed to represent, the prophecy would have been held scarcely less insane than a prophecy sixor even three years before the event, that in the year 1854 England wouldbe united with an Emperor Napoleon for the preservation of European order. 

Henry, then, in the spring of the year 1527, definitively breaking theSpanish alliance, formed a league with Francis I. , the avowed object ofwhich was the expulsion of the Imperialists from Italy; with a furtherintention--if it could be carried into effect--of avenging the outrageoffered to Europe in the pope's imprisonment, by declaring vacant theimperial throne. Simultaneously with the congress at Amiens where the termsof the alliance were arranged, confidential persons were despatched intoItaly to obtain an interview--if possible--with the pope, and formallylaying before him the circumstances of the king's position, to request himto make use of his powers to provide a remedy. It is noticeable that at theoutset of the negotiation the king did not fully trust Wolsey. The latterhad suggested, as the simplest method of proceeding, that the pope shouldextend his authority as legate, granting him plenary power to act asEnglish vicegerent so long as Rome was occupied by the Emperor's troops. Henry, not wholly satisfied that he was acquainted with his minister's fullintentions in desiring so large a capacity, sent his own secretary, unknownto Wolsey, with his own private propositions--requesting simply adispensation to take a second wife, his former marriage being allowed tostand with no definite sentence passed upon it; or, if that wereimpossible, leaving the pope to choose his own method, and settle thequestion in the manner least difficult and least offensive. [132]

Wolsey, however, soon satisfied the king that he had no sinisterintentions. By the middle of the winter we find the private messengerassociated openly with Sir Gregory Cassalis, the agent of the minister'scommunications;[133] and a series of formal demands were presented jointlyby these two persons in the names of Henry and the legate; which, thoughtaking many forms, resolved themselves substantially into one. The pope wasrequired to make use of his dispensing power to enable the King of Englandto marry a wife who could bear him children, and thus provide some bettersecurity than already existed for the succession to the throne. This demandcould not be considered as in itself unreasonable; and if personal feelingwas combined with other motives to induce Henry to press it, personalfeeling did not affect the general bearing of the question. The king'sdesire was publicly urged on public grounds, and thus, and thus only, thepope was at liberty to consider it. The marriages of princes have ever beenaffected by other considerations than those which influence such relationsbetween private persons. Princes may not, as "unvalued persons" may, "carvefor themselves;" they pay the penalty of their high place, in submittingtheir affections to the welfare of the state; and the same causes whichregulate the formation of these ties must be allowed to influence thecontinuance of them. The case which was submitted to the pope was one ofthose for which his very power of dispensing had been vested in him; andbeing, as he called himself, the Father of Christendom, the nation thoughtthemselves entitled to call upon him to make use of that power. A resourceof the kind must exist somewhere--the relation between princes and subjectsindispensably requiring it. It had been vested in the Bishop of Rome, because it had been presumed that the sanctity of his office would securean impartial exercise of his authority. And unless he could have shown(which he never attempted to show) that the circumstances of the successionwere not so precarious as to call for his interference, it would seem thatthe express contingency had arisen which was contemplated in theconstitution of the canon law;[134] and that where a provision had beenmade by the church of which he was the earthly head, for difficulties ofthis precise description, the pope was under an obligation either to makethe required concessions in virtue of his faculty, or, if he found himselfunable to make those concessions, to offer some distinct explanation of hisrefusal. I speak of the question as nakedly political. I am not consideringthe private injuries of which Catherine had so deep a right to complain, nor the complications subsequently raised on the original validity of thefirst marriage. A political difficulty, on which alone he was bound to givesentence, was laid before the pope in his judicial capacity, in the name ofthe nation; and the painful features which the process afterwards assumedare due wholly to his original weakness and vacillation. 

Deeply, however, as we must all deplore the scandal and suffering whichwere occasioned by the dispute, it was in a high degree fortunate, that atthe crisis of public dissatisfaction in England with the condition of thechurch, especially in the conduct of its courts of justice, a cause shouldhave arisen which tested the whole question of church authority in itshighest form; where the dispute between the laity and the ecclesiastics wasrepresented in a process in which the pope sat as judge; in which the kingwas the appellant, and the most vital interests of the nation were at stakeupon the issue. It was no accident which connected a suit for divorce withthe reformation of religion. The ecclesiastical jurisdiction was upon itstrial, and the future relations of church and state depended upon thepope's conduct in a matter which no technical skill was required to decide, but only the moral virtues of probity and courage. The time had been whenthe clergy feared only to be unjust, and when the functions of judges mightsafely be entrusted to them. The small iniquities of the consistory courtshad shaken the popular faith in the continued operation of such a fear; andthe experience of an Alexander VI. , a Julius II. , and a Leo X. Had induceda suspicion that even in the highest quarters justice had ceased to be muchconsidered. It remained for Clement VII. To disabuse men of their alarms, or by confirming them to forfeit for ever the supremacy of his order inEngland. Nor can it be said for him that the case was one in which it wasunusually difficult to be virtuous. Justice, wounded dignity, and theinterests of the See pointed alike to the same course. Queen Catherine'srelationship to the emperor could not have recommended her to thetenderness of the pope, and the policy of assenting to an act which wouldinfallibly alienate Henry from Charles, and therefore attach him to theRoman interests, did not require the eloquence of Wolsey to make itintelligible. If, because he was in the emperor's power, he thereforefeared the personal consequences to himself, his cowardice of itselfdisqualified him to sit as a judge. 

It does not fall within my present purpose to detail the first stages ofthe proceedings which followed. In substance they are well known to allreaders of English history, and may be understood without difficulty assoon as we possess the clue to the conduct of Wolsey. I shall, however, ina few pages briefly epitomise what passed. 

At the outset of the negotiation, the pope, although he would take nopositive steps, was all, in words, which he was expected to be. Neither henor the cardinals refused to acknowledge the dangers which threatened thecountry. He discussed freely the position of the different parties, theprobabilities of a disputed succession, and the various claimants who wouldpresent themselves, if the king died without an heir of undisputedlegitimacy. [135] Gardiner writes to Wolsey, [136] "We did even moreinculcate what speed and celerity the thing required, and what danger itwas to the realm to have this matter hang in suspense. His Holinessconfessed the same, and thereupon began to reckon what divers titles mightbe pretended by the King of Scots and others, and granted that, without anheir male, with provision to be made by consent of the state for hissuccession, and unless that what shall be done herein be established insuch fashion as nothing may hereafter be objected thereto, the realm waslike to come to dissolution. "

In stronger language the Cardinal-Governor of Bologna declared that "heknew the gyze of England as well as few men did, and if the king should diewithout heirs male, he was sure it would cost two hundred thousand men'slives. Wherefore he thought, supposing his Grace should have no morechildren by the queen, and that by taking of another wife he might haveheirs male, the bringing to pass that matter, and by that to avoid themischiefs afore written, he thought would deserve Heaven. "[137] Whateverdoubt their might be, therefore, whether the original marriage withCatherine was legal, it was universally admitted that there was none aboutthe national desirableness of the dissolution of it; and if the pope hadbeen free to judge only by the merits of the case, it is impossible todoubt that he would have cut the knot, either by granting a dispensation toHenry to marry a second wife--his first being formally, though notjudicially, separated from him--or in some other way. [138] But the emperorwas "a lion in his path;" the question of strength between the French andthe Spaniards remained undecided, and Clement would come to no decisionuntil he was assured of the power of the allies to protect him from theconsequences. Accordingly he said and unsaid, sighed, sobbed, beat hisbreast, shuffled, implored, threatened;[139] in all ways he endeavoured toescape from his dilemma, to say yes and to say no, to do nothing, to offendno one, and above all to gain time, with the weak man's hope that"something might happen" to extricate him. Embassy followed embassy fromEngland, each using language more threatening than its predecessor. Thething, it was said, must be done, and should be done. If it was not done bythe pope it would be done at home in some other way, and the pope must takethe consequences. [140] Wolsey warned him passionately of the risingstorm, [141] a storm which would be so terrible when it burst "that it wouldbe better to die than to live. " The pope was strangely unable to believethat the danger could be real, being misled perhaps by other informationfrom the friends of Queen Catherine, and by an over-confidence in theattachment of the people to the emperor. He acted throughout in a mannernatural to a timid amiable man, who found himself in circumstances to whichhe was unequal; and as long as we look at him merely as a man we can pityhis embarrassment. He forgot, however, that only because he was supposed tobe more than a man had kings and emperors consented to plead at hisjudgment seat--a fact of which Stephen Gardiner, then Wolsey's secretary, thought it well to remind him in the following striking language:--

"Unless, " said the future Bishop of Winchester in the council, at the closeof a weary day of unprofitable debating, "unless some other resolution betaken than I perceive you intend to make, hereupon shall be gathered amarvellous opinion of your Holiness, of the college of cardinals, and ofthe authority of this See. The King's Highness, and the nobles of the realmwho shall be made privy to this, shall needs think that your Holiness andthese most reverend and learned councillors either will not answer in thiscause, or cannot answer. If you will not, if you do not choose to point outthe way to an erring man, the care of whom is by God committed to you, theywill say, 'Oh race of men most ungrateful, and of your proper office mostoblivious! You who should be simple as doves are full of all deceit, andcraft, and dissembling. If the king's cause be good, we require that youpronounce it good. If it be bad, why will you not say that it is bad, so tohinder a prince to whom you are so much bounden from longer continuing withit? We ask nothing of you but justice, which the king so loves and values, that whatever sinister things others may say or think of him, he willfollow that with all his heart; that, and nothing else, whether it be forthe marriage or against the marriage. '

"But if the King's Majesty, " continued Gardiner, hitting the very point ofthe difficulty, "if the King's Majesty and the nobility of England, beingpersuaded of your good will to answer if you can do so, shall be brought todoubt of your ability, they will be forced to a harder conclusionrespecting this See--namely, that God has taken from it the key ofknowledge; and they will begin to give better ear to that opinion of somepersons to which they have as yet refused to listen, that those papal lawswhich neither the pope himself nor his council can interpret, deserve onlyto be committed to the flames. " "I desired his Holiness, " he adds, "toponder well this matter. "[142]

Clement was no hero, but in his worst embarrassments his wit never failedhim. He answered that he was not learned, and "to speak truth, albeit therewas a saying in the canon law, that _Pontifex habet omnia jura in scriniopectoris_ (the pope has all laws locked within his breast), yet God hadnever given him the key to open that lock. " He was but "seeking pretexts"for delay, as Gardiner saw, till the issue of the Italian campaign of theFrench in the summer of 1528 was decided. He had been liberated, or hadbeen allowed to escape from Rome, in the fear that if detained longer hemight nominate a vicegerent; and was residing at an old ruined castle atOrvieto, waiting upon events, leaving the Holy City still occupied by thePrince of Orange. In the preceding autumn, immediately after the congressat Amiens, M. De Lautrec, accompanied by several English noblemen, had ledan army across the Alps. He had defeated the Imperialists in the north ofItaly in several minor engagements; and in January his success appeared soprobable, that the pope took better heart, and told Sir Gregory Cassalis, that if the French would only approach near enough to enable him to pleadcompulsion, he would grant a commission to Wolsey, with plenary power toconclude the cause. [143] De Lautrec, however, foiled in his desire to bringthe Imperialists to a decisive engagement, wasted his time and strength inineffectual petty sieges; and finally, in the summer, on the unhealthyplains of Naples, a disaster more fatal in its consequences than the battleof Pavia, closed the prospects of the French to the south of the Alps; andwith them all Wolsey's hopes of realising his dream. Struck down, not by avisible enemy, but by the silent hand of fever, the French general himself, his English friends, and all his army melted away from off the earth. Thepope had been wise in time. He had committed himself in words andintentions; but he had done nothing which he could not recall. He obtainedhis pardon from the emperor by promising to offend no more; and from thatmoment never again entertained any real thought of concession. Acting underexplicit directions, he made it his object thenceforward to delay and toprocrastinate. Charles had no desire to press matters to extremities. Warhad not yet been declared[144] against him by Henry; nor was he anxioushimself to precipitate a quarrel from which, if possible, he would gladlyescape. He had a powerful party in England, which it was unwise to alienateby hasty, injudicious measures; and he could gain all which he himselfdesired by a simple policy of obstruction. His object was merely toprotract the negotiation and prevent a decision, in the hope either thatHenry would be wearied into acquiescence, or that Catherine herself wouldretire of her own accord, or, finally, that some happy accident might occurto terminate the difficulty. It is, indeed, much to the honour of CharlesV. That he resolved to support the queen. She had thrown herself on hisprotection; but princes in such matters consider prudence more thanfeeling, and he could gain nothing by defending her: while, both forhimself and for the church he risked the loss of much. He over-rated thestrength of his English connection, and mistook the English character; buthe was not blind to the hazard which he was incurring, and would havewelcomed an escape from the dilemma perhaps as warmly as Henry would havewelcomed it himself. The pope, who well knew his feelings, told Gardiner, "It would be for the wealth of Christendom if the queen were in hergrave; and he thought the emperor would be thereof most glad of all;"saying, also, "that he thought like as the emperor had destroyed thetemporalities of the church, so should she be the destruction of thespiritualities. "[145]

In the summer of 1528, before the disaster at Naples, Cardinal Campeggiohad left Rome on his way to England, where he was to hear the cause inconjunction with Wolsey. An initial measure of this obvious kind it hadbeen impossible to refuse; and the pretexts under which it was for manymonths delayed, were exhausted before the pope's ultimate course had beenmade clear to him. But Campeggio was instructed to protract his journey toits utmost length, giving time for the campaign to decide itself. Heloitered into the autumn, under the excuse of gout and other convenientaccidents, until the news reached him of De Lautrec's death, which tookplace on the 21st of August; and then at length proceeding, he betrayed toFrancis I. , on passing through Paris, that he had no intention of allowingjudgment to be passed upon the cause. [146] Even Wolsey was beginning totremble at what he had attempted, and was doubtful of success. [147] Theseeming relief came in time, for Henry's patience was fast running out. Hehad been over-persuaded into a course which he had never cordiallyapproved. The majority of the council, especially the Duke of Norfolk andthe Duke of Suffolk, were traditionally imperial, and he himself might welldoubt whether he might not have found a nearer road out of his difficultiesby adhering to Charles. Charles, after all, was not ruining the papacy, andhad no intention of ruining it; and his lightest word weighed more at thecourt of Rome than the dubious threats and prayers of France. The Bishop ofBayonne, resident French ambassador in London, whose remarkable letterstransport us back into the very midst of that unquiet and stormy scene, tells us plainly that the French alliance was hated by the country, thatthe nobility were all for the emperor, and that among the commons theloudest discontent was openly expressed against Wolsey from the danger ofthe interruption of the trade with Flanders. Flemish ships had beendetained in London, and English ships in retaliation had been arrested inthe Zealand ports; corn was unusually dear, and the expected supplies fromSpain and Germany were cut off;[148] while the derangement of the woollentrade, from the reluctance of the merchants to venture purchases, wascausing distress all over the country, and Wolsey had been driven to themost arbitrary measures to prevent open disturbance. [149] He had set hishopes upon the chance of a single cast which he would not believe couldfail him, but on each fresh delay he was compelled to feel his decliningcredit, and the Bishop of Bayonne wrote, on the 20th of August, 1528, thatthe cardinal was in bad spirits, and had told him in confidence, that "ifhe could only see the divorce arranged, the king remarried, the successionsettled, and the laws and the manners and customs of the country reformed, he would retire from the world and would serve God the remainder of hisdays. "[150] To these few trifles he would be contented to confinehimself--only to these; he was past sixty, he was weary of the world, andhis health was breaking, and he would limit his hopes to the execution of awork for which centuries imperfectly sufficed. It seemed as if he measuredhis stature by the lengthening shadow, as his sun made haste to itssetting. Symptoms of misgiving may be observed in the many anxious letterswhich he wrote while Campeggio was so long upon his road; and the Bishop ofBayonne, whose less interested eyes could see more deeply into the game, warned him throughout that the pope was playing him false. [151] Only in arevulsion from violent despondency could such a man as Wolsey have allowedhimself, on the mere arrival of the legate, and after a few soft words fromhim, to write in the following strain to Sir Gregory Cassalis:--

"You cannot believe the exultation with which at length I find myselfsuccessful in the object for which these many years, with all my industry, I have laboured. At length I have found means to bind my most excellentsovereign and this glorious realm to the holy Roman see in faith andobedience for ever. Henceforth will this people become the most sure pillarof support to bear up the sacred fabric of the church. Henceforth, inrecompense for that enduring felicity which he has secured to it, our mostHoly Lord has all England at his devotion. In brief time will this nobleland make its grateful acknowledgments to his clemency at once for thepreservation of the most just, most wise, most excellent of princes, andfor the secure establishment of the realm and the protection of the royalsuccession. "[152]

This letter was dated on the fourth of October, and was written in the hopethat the pope had collected his courage, and that the legate had broughtpowers to proceed to judgment. In a few days the prospect was againclouded, and Wolsey was once more in despair. [153] Campeggio had broughtwith him instructions if possible to arrange a compromise, --if a compromisewas impossible, to make the best use of his ingenuity, and do nothing andallow nothing to be done. In one of two ways, however, it was hoped that hemight effect a peaceful solution. He urged the king to give way and toproceed no further; and this failing, as he was prepared to find, he urgedthe same thing upon the queen. [154] He invited Catherine, or he wasdirected to invite her, in the pope's name, [155] for the sake of thegeneral interests of Christendom, to take the vows and enter what wascalled _religio laxa_, a state in which she might live unincumbered byobligations except the easy one of chastity, and free from all otherrestrictions either of habit, diet, or order. The proposal was Wolsey's, and was formed when he found the limited nature of Campeggio'sinstructions;[156] but it was adopted by the latter; and I cannot but think(though I have no proof of it) that it was not adopted without theknowledge of the emperor. Whatever were his own interests, Charles V. GaveCatherine his unwavering support: he made it his duty to maintain her inthe ignominious position in which she was placed, and submitted his ownconduct to be guided by her wishes. It cannot be doubted, however, from thepope's words, and also from the circumstances of the case, that if shecould have prevailed upon herself to yield, it would have relieved him froma painful embarrassment. As a prince, he must have felt the substantialjustice of Henry's demand, and in refusing to allow the pope to pass ajudicial sentence of divorce, he could not but have known that he wascompromising the position of the Holy See: while Catherine herself, on theother hand, if she had yielded, would have retired without a stain; noopinion would have been pronounced upon her marriage; the legitimacy of thePrincess Mary would have been left without impeachment; and her right tothe succession, in the event of no male heir following from any newconnection which the king might form, would have been readily secured toher by act of parliament. It may be asked why she did not yield, and it isdifficult to answer the question. She was not a person who would have beendisturbed by the loss of a few court vanities. Her situation as Henry'swife could not have had many charms for her, nor can it be thought that sheretained a personal affection for him. If she had loved him, she would havesuffered too deeply in the struggle to have continued to resist, and thecloister would have seemed a paradise. Or if the cloister had appeared toosad a shelter for her, she might have gone back to the gardens of theAlhambra, where she had played as a child, carrying with her theaffectionate remembrance of every English heart, and welcomed by her ownpeople as an injured saint. Nor again can we suppose that the possibleinjury of her daughter's prospects from the birth of a prince by anothermarriage could have seemed of so vast moment to her. Those prospects werealready more than endangered, and would have been rather improved thanbrought into further peril. 

It is not for us to dictate the conduct which a woman smarting underinjuries so cruel ought to have pursued. She had a right to choose thecourse which seemed the best to herself, and England especially could notclaim of a stranger that readiness to sacrifice herself which it might havedemanded and exacted of one of its own children. We may regret, however, what we are unable to censure; and the most refined ingenuity couldscarcely have invented a more unfortunate answer than that which the Queenreturned to the legate's request. She seems to have said that she was readyto take vows of chastity if the king would do the same. It does not appearwhether the request was _formally_ made, or whether it was merely suggestedto her in private conversation. That she told the legates, however, whather answer would be, appears certain from the following passage, sadlyindicating the "devices of policy" to which in this unhappy businesshonourable men allowed themselves to be driven:--

"Forasmuch as it is like that the queen shall make marvellous difficulty, and in nowise be conformable to enter religion[157] or take vows ofchastity, but that to induce her thereunto, there must be ways and means ofhigh policy used, and all things possible devised to encourage her to thesame; wherein percase she shall resolve that she in no wise will condescendso to do, unless that the King's Highness also do the semblable for hispart; the king's said orators shall therefore in like wise ripe andinstruct themselves by their secret learned council in the court of Rome, if, for so great a benefit to ensue unto the king's succession, realm, andsubjects, with the quiet of his conscience, his Grace should promise so toenter religion on vows of chastity for his part, only thereby to conducethe queen thereunto, whether in that case the Pope's Holiness may dispensewith the King's Highness for the same promise, oath, or vow, discharginghis Grace clearly of the same. "[158]

The explanation of the queen's conduct lies probably in regions into whichit is neither easy nor well to penetrate; in regions of outraged delicacyand wounded pride, in a vast drama of passion which had been enacted behindthe scenes. From the significant hints which are let fall of the originalcause of the estrangement, it was of a kind more difficult to endure thanthe ordinary trial of married women, the transfer of a husband's affectionto some fairer face; and a wife whom so painful a misfortune had failed tocrush would be likely to have been moved by it to a deeper and more bitterindignation even, because while she could not blame herself, she knew notwhom she might rightly allow herself to blame. And if this were so, theking is not likely to have allayed the storm when at length, putting faithin Wolsey's promises, he allowed himself openly to regard another person ashis future wife, establishing her in the palace at Greenwich under the sameroof with the queen, with reception rooms, and royal state, and a positionopenly acknowledged, [159] the gay court and courtiers forsaking the gloomydignity of the actual wife for the gaudy splendour of her brilliant rival. Tamer blood than that which flowed in the veins of a princess of Castilewould have boiled under these indignities; and we have little reason to besurprised if policy and prudence were alike forgotten by Catherine in thebitterness of the draught which was forced upon her, and if her ownpersonal wrongs outweighed the interests of the world. Henry had proceededto the last unjustifiable extremity as soon as the character of Campeggio'smission had been made clear to him, as if to demonstrate to all the worldthat he was determined to persevere at all costs and hazards. [160] Takingthe management of the negotiation into his own keeping, he sent Sir FrancisBryan, the cousin of Anne Boleyn, to the pope, to announce that what herequired must be done, and to declare peremptorily, no more with coverthints, but with open menace, that in default of help from Rome, he wouldlay the matter before parliament, to be settled at home by the laws of hisown country. 

Meanwhile, the emperor, who had hitherto conducted himself with thegreatest address, had fallen into his first error. He had retreatedskilfully out of the embarrassment in which the pope's imprisonmentinvolved him, and mingling authority and dictation with kindness anddeference, he had won over the Holy See to his devotion, and neutralisedthe danger to which the alliance of France and England threatened to exposehim. His correspondence with the latter country assured him of theunpopularity of the course which had been pursued by the cardinal; he wasaware of the obstruction of trade which it had caused, and of the generaldispleasure felt by the people at the breach of an old friendship; whilethe league with France in behalf of the Roman church had been barren ofresults, and was made ridiculous by the obvious preference of the pope forthe enemy from whom it was formed to deliver him. If Charles had understoodthe English temper, therefore, and had known how to avail himself of theopportunity, events might have run in a very different channel. But he wasnot aware of the earnestness with which the people were bent upon securingthe succession, nor of their loyal attachment to Henry. He supposed thatdisapproval of the course followed by Wolsey to obtain the divorce impliedan aversion to it altogether; and trusting to his interest in the privycouncil, and to his commercial connection with the city, he had attemptedto meet menace with menace; he had replied to the language addressed byHenry to the pope with an attempt to feel the pulse of Englishdisaffection, and he opened a correspondence with the Earl of Desmond foran Irish revolt. [161]

The opportunity for a movement of this kind had not yet arrived. There was, in England at least, as yet no wide disaffection; but there was a chance ofserious outbreaks; and Henry instantly threw himself upon the nation. Hesummoned the peers by circular to London, and calling a general meeting, composed of the nobility, the privy council, the lord mayor, and the greatmerchants of the city, he laid before them a specific detail of his objectsin desiring the divorce;[162] and informed them of the nature of themeasures which had been taken. [163] This, the French ambassador informs us, gave wide satisfaction and served much to allay the disquiet; but so greatwas the indignation against Wolsey, that disturbances in London were everyday anticipated; and at one time the danger appeared so threatening, thatan order of council was issued, commanding all strangers to leave the city, and a general search was instituted for arms. [164] The strangers aimed atwere the Flemings, whose numbers made them formidable, and who were, perhaps, supposed to be ready to act under instruction from abroad. Thecloud, however, cleared away; the order was not enforced; and thepropitious moment for treason had not yet arrived. The emperor had felt soconfident that, in the autumn of 1528, he had boasted that, "before thewinter was over, he would fling Henry from his throne by the hands of hisown Subjects. " The words had been repeated to Wolsey, who mentioned themopenly at his table before more than a hundred gentlemen. A person presentexclaimed, "That speech has lost the emperor more than a hundred thousandhearts among us;"[165] an expression which reveals at once the strength andthe weakness of the imperial party. England might have its own opinions ofthe policy of the government, but it was in no humour to tolerate treason, and the first hint of revolt was followed by an instant recoil. Thediscovery of more successful intrigues in Scotland and Ireland completedthe destruction of Charles's influence;[166] and the result of theseill-judged and premature efforts was merely to unite the nation in theirdetermination to prosecute the divorce. 

Thus were the various parties in the vast struggle which was about tocommence gravitating into their places; and mistake combined with policy toplace them in their true positions. Wolsey, in submitting "the king'smatter" to the pope, had brought to issue the question whether the papalauthority should be any longer recognised in England; and he had securedthe ruin of that authority by the steps through which he hoped to establishit; while Charles, by his unwise endeavours to foment a rebellion, severedwith his own hand the links of a friendship which would have been seriouslyembarrassing if it had continued. By him, also, was dealt the concludingstroke in this first act of the drama; and though we may grant him creditfor the ingenuity of his contrivance, he can claim it only at the expenseof his probity. The pope, when the commission was appointed for the trialof the cause in England, had given a promise in writing that the commissionshould not be revoked. It seemed, therefore, that the legates would becompelled, in spite of themselves, to pronounce sentence; and that thesettlement of the question, in one form or other, could not long bedelayed. At the pressure of the crisis in the winter of 1528-9, a documentwas produced alleged to have been found in Spain, which furnished a pretextfor a recall of the engagement, and opening now questions, indefinite andinexhaustible, rendered the passing of a sentence in England impossible. Unhappily, the weight of the king's claim (however it had been rested onits true merits in conversation and in letters) had, by the perverseingenuity of the lawyers, been laid on certain informalities and defects inthe original bull of dispensation, which had been granted by Julius II. Forthe marriage of Henry and Catherine. At the moment when the legates' courtwas about to be opened, a copy of a brief was brought forward, bearing thesame date as the bull, exactly meeting the objection. The authenticity ofthis brief was open, on its own merits, to grave doubt; and suspicionbecomes certainty when we find it was dropped out of the controversy sosoon as the immediate object was gained for which it was produced. But thelegates' hands were instantly tied by it. The "previous question" ofauthenticity had necessarily to be tried before they could take anotherstep; and the "original" of the brief being in the hands of the emperor, who refused to send it into England, but offered to send it to Rome, thecause was virtually transferred to Rome, where Henry, as he knew, wasunlikely to consent to plead, or where he could himself rule the decision. He had made a stroke of political finesse, which answered not only thepurpose that he immediately intended, but answered, also, the purpose thathe did not intend--of dealing the hardest blow which it had yet received tothe supremacy of the Holy See. 

The spring of 1529 was wasted in fruitless efforts to obtain the brief. Atlength, in May, the proceedings were commenced; but they were commencedonly in form, and were never more than an illusion. Catherine had beeninstructed in the course which she was to pursue. She appealed from thejudgment of the legates to that of the pope; and the pope, with the plea ofthe new feature which had arisen in the case, declared that he could notrefuse to revoke his promise. Having consented to the production of thebrief, he had in fact no alternative; nor does it appear what he could haveurged in excuse of himself. He may have suspected the forgery; nay, it iscertain that in England he was believed to be privy to it; but he could notignore an important feature of necessary evidence, especially when pressedupon him by the emperor; and it was in fact no more than an absurdity toadmit the authority of a papal commission, and to refuse to permit anappeal from it to the pope in person. We may thank Clement for dispelling achimera by a simple act of consistency. The power of the See of Rome inEngland was a constitutional fiction, acknowledged only on condition thatit would consent to be inert. So long as a legate's court sat in London, men were able to conceal from themselves the fact of a foreignjurisdiction, and to feel that, substantially, their national independencewas respected; when the fiction aspired to become a reality, but oneconsequence was possible. If Henry himself would have stooped to plead at aforeign tribunal, the spirit of the nation would not have permitted him toinflict so great a dishonour on the free majesty of England. 

So fell Wolsey's great scheme, and with it fell the last real chance ofmaintaining the pope's authority in England under any form. The people weresmarting under the long humiliation of the delay, and ill-endured to seethe interests of England submitted, as they virtually were, to thearbitration of a foreign prince. The emperor, not the pope, was the truejudge who sat to decide the quarrel; and their angry jealousy refused totolerate longer a national dishonour. 

"The great men of the realm, " wrote the legates, "are storming in bitterwrath at our procrastination. Lords and commons alike complain that theyare made to expect at the hands of strangers things of vital moment tothemselves and their fortunes. And many persons here who would desire tosee the pope's authority in this country diminished or annulled, arespeaking in language which we cannot repeat without horror. "[167]

And when, being in such a mood, they were mocked, after two weary years ofnegotiation, by the opening of a fresh vista of difficulties, when theywere informed that the further hearing of the cause was transferred toItaly, even Wolsey, with certain ruin before him, rose in protest beforesuch a dream of shame. He was no more the Roman legate, but the Englishminister. 

"If the advocation be passed, " he wrote to Cassalis, [168] "or shall now atany time hereafter pass, with citation of the king in person, or byproctor, to the court of Rome, or with any clause of interdiction orexcommunication, _vel cum invocatione brachii sæcularis_, whereby the kingshould be precluded from taking his advantage otherwise, the dignity andprerogative royal of the king's crown, whereunto all the nobles andsubjects of this realm will adhere and stick unto the death, may nottolerate nor suffer that the same be obeyed. And to say the truth, in sodoing the pope should not only show himself the king's enemy, but also asmuch as in him is, provoke all other princes and people to be thesemblable. Nor shall it ever be seen that the king's cause shall beventilated or decided in any place out of his own realm; _but that if hisGrace should come at any time to the Court of Rome, he would do the samewith such a main and army royal as should be formidable to the pope and allItaly_. "[169]

Wolsey, however, failed in his protest; the advocation was passed, Campeggio left England, and he was lost. A crisis had arrived, and arevolution of policy was inevitable. From the accession of Henry VII. , thecountry had been governed by a succession of ecclesiastical ministers, whobeing priests as well as statesmen, were essentially conservative; andwhose efforts in a position of constantly increasing difficulty had beendirected towards resisting the changing tendencies of the age, and eitherevading a reformation of the church while they admitted its necessity, orretaining the conduct of it in their own hands, while they were givingevidence of their inability to accomplish the work. It was now over; theablest representative of this party, in a last desperate effort to retainpower, had decisively failed. Writs were issued for a parliament when thelegate's departure was determined, and the consequences were inevitable. Wolsey had known too well the unpopularity of his foreign policy, toventure on calling a parliament himself. He relied on success as anultimate justification; and inasmuch as success had not followed, he wasobliged to bear the necessary fate of a minister who, in a free country, had thwarted the popular will and whom fortune deserted in the struggle. The barriers which his single hand had upheld suddenly gave way, thetorrent had free course, and he himself was the first to be swept away. Inmodern language, we should describe what took place as a change ofministry, the government being transferred to an opposition, who had beenirritated by long depression under the hands of men whom they despised, andwho were borne into power by an irresistible force in a moment ofexcitement and danger. The king, who had been persuaded against his betterjudgment to accept Wolsey's schemes, admitted the rising spirit withoutreluctance, contented to moderate its action, but no longer obstructing orpermitting it to be obstructed. Like all great English statesmen, he wasconstitutionally conservative, but he had the tact to perceive theconditions under which, in critical times, conservatism is possible; andalthough he continued to endure for himself the trifling of the papacy, hewould not, for the sake of the pope's interest, delay further theinvestigation of the complaints of the people against the church; while inthe future prosecution of his own cause, he resolved to take no stepsexcept with the consent of the legislature, and in a question of nationalmoment, to consult only the nation's wishes. 

The new ministry held a middle place between the moving party in thecommons and the expelled ecclesiastics, the principal members of it beingthe chief representatives of the old aristocracy, who had been Wolsey'sfiercest opponents, but who were disinclined by constitution and sympathyfrom sweeping measures. An attempt was made, indeed, to conciliate the moreold-fashioned of the churchmen, by an offer of the seals to Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, probably because he originally opposed themarriage between the king and his sister-in-law, and because it was hopedthat his objections remained unaltered. Warham, however, as we shall see, had changed his mind: he declined, on the plea of age, and the office ofchancellor was given to Sir Thomas More, perhaps the person leastdisaffected to the clergy who could have been found among the leadinglaymen. The substance of power was vested in the Dukes of Norfolk andSuffolk, the great soldier-nobles of the age, and Sir William Fitz-William, lord admiral; to all of whom the ecclesiastical domination had been mostintolerable, while they had each of them brilliantly distinguishedthemselves in the wars with France and Scotland. According to the Frenchambassador, we must add one more minister, supreme, if we may trust him, above them all. "The Duke of Norfolk, " he writes, "is made president of thecouncil, the Duke of Suffolk vice-president, and above them both isMistress Anne;"[170] this last addition to the council being one whichboded little good to the interests of the See that had so long detained herin expectation. So confident were the destructive party of the temper ofthe approaching parliament, and of the irresistible pressure of the times, that the general burden of conversation of the dinner-tables in the greathouses in London was an exulting expectation of a dissolution of the churchestablishment, and a confiscation of ecclesiastical property; the kinghimself being the only obstacle which was feared by them. "These noblelords imagine, " continues the same writer, "that the cardinal once dead ofruined, they will incontinently plunder the church, and strip it of all itswealth, " adding that there was no occasion for him to write this in cipher, for it was everywhere openly spoken of. [171]

Movements, nevertheless, which are pregnant with vital change, are slow inassuming their essential direction, even after the stir has commenced. Circumstances do not immediately open themselves; the point of visionalters gradually; and fragments of old opinions, and prepossessions, andprejudices remain interfused with the new, even in the clearest minds, andcannot at a moment be shaken off. Only the unwise change suddenly; and wecan never too often remind ourselves, when we see men stepping forward withuncertainty and hesitation over a road, where to us, we know the actualfuture, all seems so plain, that the road looked different to the actorsthemselves, who were beset with imaginations of the past, and to whom thegloom of the future appeared thronged with phantoms of possiblecontingencies. The hasty expectations of the noble lords were checked byHenry's prudence; and though parties were rapidly arranging themselves, there was still confusion. The city, though disinclined to the pope and thechurch, continued to retain an inclination for the emperor; and the popehad friends among Wolsey's enemies, who, by his overthrow, were pressedforward into prominence, and divided the victory with the reformers. Thepresence of Sir Thomas More in the council was a guarantee that noexaggerated measures against the church would be permitted so long as heheld the seals; and Henry, perhaps, was anxious to leave room forconciliation, which he hoped that the pope would desire as much as himself, so soon as the meeting of parliament had convinced him that the mutinousdisposition of the nation had not been overstated by his own and Wolsey'sletters. 

The impression conceived two years before of the hostile relations betweenthe pope and Charles had not yet been wholly effaced; and even as late asSeptember, 1529, after the closing of the legates' court, in the very heatof the public irritation, there were persons who believed that when Clementmet his imperial captor face to face, and the interview had taken placewhich had been arranged for the ensuing January, his eyes would be opened, and that he would fall back upon England. [172] At the same time, theincongruities in the constitution of the council became so early apparent, that their agreement was thought impossible, and Wolsey's return to powerwas discussed openly as a probability[173]--a result which Anne Boleyn, who, better than any other person, knew the king's feelings, never ceasedto fear, till, a year after his disgrace, the welcome news were brought toher that he had sunk into his long rest, where the sick load of office andof obloquy would gall his back no more. 

There was a third party in the country, unconsidered as yet, who had a partto play in the historical drama: a party which, indeed, if any one hadknown it, was the most important of all; the only one which, in a true, high sense, was of importance at all; and for the sake of which, little asit then appeared to be so, the whole work was to be done--composed at thattime merely of poor men, poor cobblers, weavers, carpenters, tradeapprentices, and humble artisans, men of low birth and low estate, whomight be seen at night stealing along the lanes and alleys of London, carrying with them some precious load of books which it was death topossess; and giving their lives gladly, if it must be so, for the brieftenure of so dear a treasure. These men, for the present, were likely tofare ill from the new ministry. They were the disturbers of order, theanarchists, the men disfigured _pravitate hereticâ_, by monstrousdoctrines, and consequently by monstrous lives--who railed at authorities, and dared to read New Testaments with their own eyes--who, consequently, bytheir excesses and extravagances, brought discredit upon liberal opinions, and whom moderate liberals (as they always have done, and always will dowhile human nature remains itself) held it necessary for their credit'ssake to persecute, that a censorious world might learn to make no confusionbetween true wisdom and the folly which seemed to resemble it. TheProtestants had not loved Wolsey, and they had no reason to love him; butit was better to bear a fagot of dry sticks in a procession when thepunishment was symbolic, than, lashed fast to a stake in Smithfield, amidstpiles of the same fagots kindled into actual flames, to sink into a heap ofblackened dust and ashes; and before a year had passed, they would gladlyhave accepted again the hated cardinal, to escape from the philosophicmercies of Sir Thomas More. The number of English Protestants at this timeit is difficult to conjecture. The importance of such men is not to bemeasured by counting heads. In 1526, they were organised into a society, calling themselves "the Christian brotherhood, "[174] with a centralcommittee sitting in London; with subscribed funds, regularly audited, forthe purchase of Testaments and tracts; and with paid agents, who travelledup and down the country to distribute them. Some of the poorer clergybelonged to the society;[175] and among the city merchants there were manywell inclined to it, and who, perhaps, attended its meetings "by night, secretly, for fear of the Jews. " But, as a rule, "property and influence"continued to hold aloof in the usual haughty style, and the pioneers of thenew opinions had yet to win their way along a scorched and blackened pathof suffering, before the State would consent to acknowledge them. We thinkbitterly of these things, and yet we are but quarrelling with what isinevitable from the constitution of the world. New doctrines ever gainreadiest hearing among the common people; not only because the interests ofthe higher classes are usually in some degree connected with themaintenance of existing institutions; but because ignorance is itself aprotection against the many considerations which embarrass the judgment ofthe educated. The value of a doctrine cannot be determined on its ownapparent merits by men whose habits of mind are settled in other forms;while men of experience know well that out of the thousands of theorieswhich rise in the fertile soil below them, it is but one here and one therewhich grows to maturity; and the precarious chances of possible vitality, where the opposite probabilities are so enormous, oblige them to discourageand repress opinions which threaten to disturb established order, or which, by the rules of existing beliefs, imperil the souls of those who entertainthem. Persecution has ceased among ourselves, because we do not any morebelieve that want of theoretic orthodoxy in matters of faith is necessarilyfraught with the tremendous consequences which once were supposed to beattached to it. If, however, a school of Thugs were to rise among us, making murder a religious service; if they gained proselytes, and theproselytes put their teaching in execution, we should speedily begin againto persecute opinion. What teachers of Thuggism would appear to ourselves, the teachers of heresy actually appeared to Sir Thomas More, only being asmuch more hateful as the eternal death of the soul is more terrible thanthe single and momentary separation of it from the body. There is, I think, no just ground on which to condemn conscientious Catholics on the score ofpersecution, except only this: that as we are now convinced of theinjustice of the persecuting laws, so among those who believed them to bejust, there were some who were led by an instinctive protest of humanfeeling to be lenient in the execution of those laws; while others ofharder nature and more narrow sympathies enforced them without reluctance, and even with exultation. The heart, when it is rightly constituted, corrects the folly of the head; and wise good men, even though theyentertain no conscious misgiving as to the soundness of their theories, maybe delivered from the worst consequences of those theories, by trustingtheir more genial instincts. And thus, and thus only, are we justified incensuring those whose names figure largely in the persecuting lists. Theirdefence is impregnable to logic. We blame them for the absence of thathumanity which is deeper than logic, and which should have taught them torefuse the conclusions of their speculative creed. 

Such, then, was the state of parties in the autumn of 1529. The oldconservatives, the political ecclesiastics, had ceased to exist, and theclergy as a body were paralysed by corruption. There remained--

The English party who had succeeded to power, and who were bent upon asecular revolt. 

The papal party, composed of theoretic theologians, like Fisher, Bishop ofRochester, and represented on the council by Sir Thomas More. 

And both of these were united in their aversion to the third party, that ofthe doctrinal Protestants, who were still called heretics. 

These three substantially divided what was sound in England; the firstcomposed of the mass of the people, representing the principles ofprudence, justice, good sense, and the working faculties of social life:the two last sharing between them the higher qualities of nobleness, enthusiasm, self-devotion; but in their faith being without discretion, andin their piety without understanding. The problem of the Reformation was toreunite virtues which could be separated only to their mutual confusion;and to work out among them such inadequate reconciliation as the wilfulnessof human nature would allow. 

Before I close this chapter, which is intended as a general introduction, Ihave to say something of two prominent persons whose character antecedentto the actions in which we are to find them engaged it is desirable that weshould understand; I mean Henry VIII. Himself, and the lady whom he hadselected to fill the place from which Catherine of Arragon was to bedeposed. 

If Henry VIII. Had died previous to the first agitation of the divorce, hisloss would have been deplored as one of the heaviest misfortunes which hadever befallen the country; and he would have left a name which would havetaken its place in history by the side of that of the Black Prince or ofthe conqueror of Agincourt. Left at the most trying age, with his characterunformed, with the means at his disposal of gratifying every inclination, and married by his ministers when a boy to an unattractive woman far hissenior, he had lived for thirty-six years almost without blame, and borethrough England the reputation of an upright and virtuous king. Nature hadbeen prodigal to him of her rarest gifts. In person he is said to haveresembled his grandfather, Edward IV. , who was the handsomest man inEurope. His form and bearing were princely; and amidst the easy freedom ofhis address, his manner remained majestic. No knight in England could matchhim in the tournament except the Duke of Suffolk: he drew with ease asstrong a bow as was borne by any yeoman of his guard; and these powers weresustained in unfailing vigour by a temperate habit and by constantexercise. Of his intellectual ability we are not left to judge from thesuspicious panegyrics of his contemporaries. His state papers and lettersmay be placed by the side of those of Wolsey or of Cromwell, and they losenothing in the comparison. Though they are broadly different, theperception is equally clear, the expression equally powerful, and theybreathe throughout an irresistible vigour of purpose. In addition to thishe had a fine musical taste, carefully cultivated; he spoke and wrote infour languages; and his knowledge of a multitude of other subjects, withwhich his versatile ability made him conversant, would have formed thereputation of any ordinary man. He was among the best physicians of hisage; he was his own engineer, inventing improvements in artillery, and newconstructions in ship-building; and this not with the condescendingincapacity of a royal amateur, but with thorough workmanlike understanding. His reading was vast, especially in theology, which has been ridiculouslyascribed by Lord Herbert to his father's intention of educating him for theArchbishopric of Canterbury; as if the scientific mastery of such a subjectcould have been acquired by a boy of twelve years of age, for he was nomore when he became Prince of Wales. He must have studied theology with thefull maturity of his intellect; and he had a fixed and perhaps unfortunateinterest in the subject itself. [176]

In all directions of human activity Henry displayed natural powers of thehighest order, at the highest stretch of industrious culture. He was"attentive, " as it is called, "to his religious duties, " being present atthe services in chapel two or three times a day with unfailing regularity, and showing to outward appearance a real sense of religious obligation inthe energy and purity of his life. In private he was good-humoured andgood-natured. His letters to his secretaries, though never undignified, aresimple, easy, and unrestrained; and the letters written by them to him aresimilarly plain and businesslike, as if the writers knew that the personwhom they were addressing disliked compliments, and chose to be treated asa man. Again, from their correspondence with one another, when theydescribe interviews with him, we gather the same pleasant impression. Heseems to have been always kind, always considerate; inquiring into theirprivate concerns with genuine interest, and winning, as a consequence, their warm and unaffected attachment. 

As a ruler he had been eminently popular. All his wars had been successful. He had the splendid tastes in which the English people most delighted, andhe had substantially acted out his own theory of his duty which wasexpressed in the following words:--

"Scripture taketh princes to be, as it were, fathers and nurses to theirsubjects, and by Scripture it appeareth that it appertaineth unto theoffice of princes to see that right religion and true doctrine bemaintained and taught, and that their subjects may be well ruled andgoverned by good and just laws; and to provide and care for them that allthings necessary for them may be plenteous; and that the people andcommonweal may increase; and to defend them from oppression and invasion, as well within the realm as without; and to see that justice beadministered unto them indifferently; and to hear benignly all theircomplaints; and to show towards them, although they offend, fatherly pity. And, finally, so to correct them that be evil, that they had yet rathersave them than lose them if it were not for respect of justice, andmaintenance of peace and good order in the commonweal. "[177]

These principles do really appear to have determined Henry's conduct in hisearlier years. His social administration we have partially seen in theprevious chapter. He had more than once been tried with insurrection, whichhe had soothed down without bloodshed, and extinguished in forgiveness; andLondon long recollected the great scene which followed "evil May-day, "1517, when the apprentices were brought down to Westminster Hall to receivetheir pardons. There had been a dangerous riot in the streets, which mighthave provoked a mild government to severity; but the king contented himselfwith punishing the five ringleaders, and four hundred other prisoners, after being paraded down the streets in white shirts with halters roundtheir necks, were dismissed with an admonition, Wolsey weeping as hepronounced it. [178]

It is certain that if, as I said, he had died before the divorce wasmooted, Henry VIII. , like that Roman Emperor said by Tacitus to have been_consensu omnium dignus imperii nisi imperasset_, would have beenconsidered by posterity as formed by Providence for the conduct of theReformation, and his loss would have been deplored as a perpetual calamity. We must allow him, therefore, the benefit of his past career, and becareful to remember it, when interpreting his later actions. Not many menwould have borne themselves through the same trials with the sameintegrity; but the circumstances of those trials had not tested the truedefects in his moral constitution. Like all princes of the Plantagenetblood, he was a person of a most intense and imperious will. His impulses, in general nobly directed, had never known contradiction; and late in life, when his character was formed, he was forced into collision withdifficulties with which the experience of discipline had not fitted him tocontend. Education had done much for him, but his nature required morecorrection than his position had permitted, whilst unbroken prosperity andearly independence of control had been his most serious misfortune. He hadcapacity, if his training had been equal to it, to be one of the greatestof men. With all his faults about him, he was still perhaps the greatest ofhis contemporaries; and the man best able of all living Englishmen togovern England, had been set to do it by the conditions of his birth. 

The other person whose previous history we have to ascertain is one, thetragedy of whose fate has blotted the remembrance of her sins--if her sinswere, indeed, and in reality, more than imaginary. Forgetting all else inshame and sorrow, posterity has made piteous reparation for her death inthe tenderness with which it has touched her reputation; and with thegeneral instincts of justice, we have refused to qualify our indignation atthe wrong which she experienced, by admitting either stain or shadow on herfame. It has been with Anne Boleyn as it has been with Catherine ofArragon--both are regarded as the victims of a tyranny which catholics andprotestants unite to remember with horror; and each has taken the place ofa martyred saint in the hagiology of the respective creeds. Catholicwriters have, indeed, ill repaid, in their treatment of Anne, theadmiration with which the mother of Queen Mary has been remembered in theChurch of England; but the invectives which they have heaped upon her havedefeated their object by their extravagance. It has been believed thatmatter failed them to sustain a just accusation, when they condescended tooutrageous slander. Inasmuch, however, as some natural explanation canusually be given of the actions of human beings in this world withoutsupposing them to have been possessed by extraordinary wickedness, and ifwe are to hold Anne Boleyn entirely free from fault, we place not the kingonly, but the privy council, the judges, the Lords and Commons, and the twoHouses of Convocation, in a position fatal to their honour and degrading toordinary humanity; we cannot without inquiry acquiesce in so painful aconclusion. The English nation also, as well as she, deserves justice atour hands; and it must not be thought uncharitable if we look with somescrutiny at the career of a person who, except for the catastrophe withwhich it was closed, would not so readily have obtained forgiveness forhaving admitted the addresses of the king, or for having received thehomage of the court as its future sovereign, while the king's wife, hermistress, as yet resided under the same roof, with the title and theposition of queen, and while the question was still undecided of thevalidity of the first marriage. If in that alone she was to blame, herfault was, indeed, revenged a thousandfold, --and yet no lady of truedelicacy would have accepted such a position; and feeling for QueenCatherine should have restrained her, if she was careless of respect forherself. It must, therefore, be permitted me, out of such few hints andscattered notices as remain, to collect such information as may be trustedrespecting her early life before her appearance upon the great stage. Thesehints are but slight, since I shall not even mention the scandals ofSanders, any more than I shall mention the panegyrics of Foxe; storieswhich, as far as I can learn, have no support in evidence, and rest on nostronger foundation than the credulity of passion. 

Anne Boleyn was the second daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, a gentleman ofnoble family, though moderate fortune;[179] who, by a marriage with thedaughter of the Duke of Norfolk, was brought into connection with thehighest blood in the realm. The year of her birth has not been certainlyascertained, but she is supposed to have been seven years old[180] in 1514, when she accompanied the Princess Mary into France, on the marriage of thatlady with Louis XII. Louis dying a few months subsequently, the princessmarried Sir Charles Brandon, afterwards created Duke of Suffolk, andreturned to England. Anne Boleyn did not return with her; she remained inParis to become accomplished with the graces and elegancies, if she was notcontaminated by the vices, of that court, which, even in those days ofloyal licentiousness, enjoyed an undesirable pre-eminence in profligacy. Inthe French capital she could not have failed to see, to hear, and to becomefamiliar with occurrences with which no young girl can be brought incontact with impunity, and this poisonous atmosphere she continued tobreathe for nine years. She came back to England in 1525, to be maid ofhonour to Queen Catherine, and to be distinguished at the court, by generalconsent, for her talents, her accomplishments, and her beauty. Herportraits, though all professedly by Holbein, or copied from pictures byhim, are singularly unlike each other. The profile in the picture which isbest known is pretty, innocent, and piquant, though rather insignificant:there are other pictures, however, in which we see a face more powerful, though less prepossessing. In these the features are full and languid. Theeyes are large; but the expression, though remarkable, is not pleasing, andindicates cunning more than thought, passion more than feeling; while theheavy lips and massive chin wear a look of sensuality which is not to bemistaken. Possibly all are like the original, but represented her underdifferent circumstances, or at different periods of her life. Previous toher engagement with the king, she was the object of fleeting attentionsfrom the young noblemen about the court. Lord Percy, eldest son of LordNorthumberland, as we all know, was said to have been engaged to her. Hewas in the household of Cardinal Wolsey; and Cavendish, who was with himthere, tells a long romantic story of the affair, which, if his account betrue, was ultimately interrupted by Lord Northumberland himself. The storyis not without its difficulties, since Lord Percy had been contracted, several years previously, to a daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury, [181]whom he afterwards married, and by the law he could not have formed asecond engagement so long as the first was undissolved. And again, hehimself, when subsequently examined before the privy council, deniedsolemnly on his oath that any contract of the kind had existed. [182] At thesame time, we cannot suppose Cavendish to have invented so circumstantial anarrative, and Percy would not have been examined if there had been noreason for suspicion. Something, therefore, probably had passed between himand the young maid of honour, though we cannot now conjecture of whatnature; and we can infer only that it was not openly to her discredit, orshe would not have obtained the position which cost her so dear. Sheherself confessed subsequently, before Archbishop Cranmer, to a connectionof some kind into which she had entered before her acquaintance with Henry. No evidence survives which will explain to what she referred, for the actof parliament which mentions the fact furnishes no details. [183] But it wasof a kind which made her marriage with the king illegal, andillegitimatised the offspring of it; and it has been supposed, therefore, that, in spite of Lord Percy's denial, he had really engaged himself toher, and was afraid to acknowledge it. [184] This supposition, however, isnot easy to reconcile with the language of the act, which speaks of thecircumstance, whatever it was, as only "recently known;" nor could acontract with Percy have invalidated her marriage with the king, when Percyhaving been pre-contracted to another person, it would have been itselfinvalid. A light is thrown upon the subject by a letter found amongCromwell's papers, addressed by some unknown person to a Mr. Melton, alsounknown, but written obviously when "Mistress Anne" was a young lady aboutthe court, and before she had been the object of any open attention fromHenry. 

"MR. MELTON. --This shall be to advertise you that Mistress Anne is changedfrom that she was at when we three were last together. Wherefore I pray youthat ye be no devil's sakke, but according to the truth ever justify, as yeshall make answer before God; and do not suffer her in my absence to bemarried to any other man. I must go to my master, wheresoever he be, forthe Lord Privy Seal desireth much to speak with me, whom if I should speakwith in my master's absence, it would cause me to lose my head; and yet Iknow myself as true a man to my prince as liveth, whom (as my friendinformeth me) I have offended grievously in my words. No more to you, butto have me commended unto Mistress Anne, and bid her remember her promise, which none can loose, but God only, to whom I shall daily during my lifecommend her. "[185]

The letter must furnish its own interpretation; for it receives little fromany other quarter. Being in the possession of Cromwell, however, it hadperhaps been forwarded to him at the time of Queen Anne's trial, and mayhave thus occasioned the investigation which led to the annulling of hermarriage. 

From the account which was written of her by the grandson of Sir ThomasWyatt the poet, we still gather the impression (in spite of the admiringsympathy with which Wyatt writes) of a person with whom young men tookliberties, [186] however she might seem to forbid them. In her diet she wasan epicure, fond of dainty and delicate eating, and not always contented ifshe did not obtain what she desired. When the king's attentions towards herbecame first marked, Thomas Heneage, afterwards lord chamberlain, wrote toWolsey, that he had one night been "commanded down with a dish for MistressAnne for supper"; adding that she caused him "to sup with her, and shewished she had some of Wolsey's good meat, as carps, shrimps, andothers. "[187] And this was not said in jest, since Heneage related it as ahint to Wolsey, that he might know what to do, if he wished to please her. In the same letter he suggested to the cardinal that she was a littledispleased at not having received a token or present from him; she wasafraid she was forgotten, he said, and "the lady, her mother, desired himto send unto his Grace, and desire his Grace to bestow a morsel of tunnyupon her. " Wolsey made her presents also at times of a more valuablecharacter, as we find her acknowledging in language of exaggeratedgratitude;[188] and, perhaps the most painful feature in all her earlierhistory lies in the contrast between the servility with which she addressedthe cardinal so long as he was in power, and the bitterness with which theBishop of Bayonne (and, in fact, all contemporary witnesses) tells us, thatshe pressed upon his decline. Wolsey himself spoke of her under the titleof "the night-crow, "[189] as the person to whom he owed all which was mostcruel in his treatment; as "the enemy that never slept, but studied andcontinually imagined, both sleeping and waking, his utterdestruction. "[190]

Taking these things together, and there is nothing to be placed beside themof a definitely pleasing kind, except beauty and accomplishments, we form, with the assistance of her pictures, a tolerable conception of this lady; aconception of her as a woman not indeed questionable, but as one whoseantecedents might lead consistently to a future either of evil or of good;and whose character removes the surprise which we might be inclined to feelat the position with respect to Queen Catherine in which she consented tobe placed. A harsh critic would describe her, on this evidence, as aself-indulgent coquette, indifferent to the obligations of gratitude, andsomething careless of the truth. From the letter referring to her, preserved by Cromwell, it appears that she had broken a definite promise ata time when such promises were legally binding, and that she had reallydone so was confirmed by her subsequent confession. The breach of suchpromises by a woman who could not be expected to understand the grounds onwhich the law held them to be sacred, implies no more than levity, andlevity of this kind has been found compatible with many high qualities. Levity, however, it does undoubtedly imply, and the symptom, if a lightone, must be allowed the weight which is due to it. 

It is a miserable duty to be compelled to search for these indications ofhuman infirmities; above all when they are the infirmities of a lady whosefaults, let them have been what they would, were so fearfully and terriblyexpiated; and, if there were nothing else at issue but poor questions ofpetty scandal, it were better far that they perished in forgetfulness, andpassed away out of mind and memory for ever. The fortunes of Anne Boleynwere unhappily linked with those of men to whom the greatest work ever yetaccomplished in this country was committed; and the characters of a king ofEngland, and of the three estates of the realm, are compromised in thetreatment which she received from them. 

CHAPTER III

THE PARLIAMENT OF 1529

No Englishman can look back uninterested on the meeting of the parliamentof 1529. The era at which it assembled is the most memorable in the historyof this country, and the work which it accomplished before its dissolutionwas of larger moment politically and spiritually than the achievements ofthe Long Parliament itself. For nearly seven years it continued surroundedby intrigue, confusion, and at length conspiracy, presiding over a peoplefrom whom the forms and habits by which they had moved for centuries werefalling like the shell of a chrysalis. While beset with enemies within therealm and without, it effected a revolution which severed England from thepapacy, yet it preserved peace unbroken and prevented anarchy from breakingbounds; and although its hands are not pure from spot, and red stains reston them which posterity have bitterly and long remembered; yet if weconsider the changes which it carried through, and if we think of the pricewhich was paid by other nations for victory in the same struggle, we shallacknowledge that the records of the world contain no instance of such atriumph, bought at a cost so slight and tarnished by blemishes so trifling. 

The letters of the French Ambassador[191] describe to us the gathering ofthe members into London, and the hum of expectation sounding louder andlouder as the day of the opening approached. In order that we may seedistinctly what London felt on this occasion, that we may understand indetail the nature of those questions with which parliament was immediatelyto deal, we will glance at some of the proceedings which had taken place inthe Bishops' Consistory Courts during the few preceding years. The dutiesof the officials of these courts resembled in theory the duties of thecensors under the Roman Republic. In the middle ages, a lofty effort hadbeen made to overpass the common limitations of government, to introducepunishment for sins as well as crimes, and to visit with temporal penaltiesthe breach of the moral law. The punishment best adapted for such offenceswas some outward expression of the disapproval with which good men regardacts of sin; some open disgrace; some spiritual censure; some suspension ofcommunion with the church, accompanied by other consequences practicallyinconvenient, to be continued until the offender had made reparation, orhad openly repented, or had given confirmed proof of amendment. Theadministration of such a discipline fell, as a matter of course, to theclergy. The clergy were the guardians of morality; their characters were aclaim to confidence, their duties gave them opportunities of observationwhich no other men could possess; while their priestly office gave solemnweight to their sentences. Thus arose throughout Europe a system ofspiritual surveillance over the habits and conduct of every man, extendingfrom the cottage to the castle, taking note of all wrong dealing, of alloppression of man by man, of all licentiousness and profligacy, andrepresenting upon earth, in the principles by which it was guided, the lawsof the great tribunal of Almighty God. 

Such was the origin of the church courts, perhaps the greatest institutionsever yet devised by man. But to aim at these high ideals is as perilous asit is noble; and weapons which may be safely trusted in the hands of saintsbecome fatal implements of mischief when saints have ceased to wield them. For a time, we need not doubt, the practice corresponded to the intention. Had it not been so, the conception would have taken no root, and would havebeen extinguished at its birth. But a system which has once establisheditself in the respect of mankind will be tolerated long after it hasforfeited its claim to endurance, as the name of a great man remainshonoured though borne by worthless descendants; and the Consistory courtshad continued into the sixteenth century with unrestricted jurisdiction, although they had been for generations merely perennially flowingfountains, feeding the ecclesiastical exchequer. The moral conduct of everyEnglish man and woman remained subject to them. Each private person wasliable to be called in question for every action of his life; and anelaborate network of canon law perpetually growing, enveloped the wholesurface of society. But between the original design and the degeneratecounterfeit there was this vital difference, --that the censures were nolonger spiritual. They were commuted in various gradations for pecuniaryfines, and each offence against morality was rated at its specific moneyvalue in the episcopal tables. Suspension and excommunication remained asultimate penalties; but they were resorted to only to compel unwillingculprits to accept the alternative. 

The misdemeanours of which the courts took cognisance[192] were "offencesagainst chastity, " "heresy, " or "matter sounding thereunto, " "witchcraft, ""drunkenness, " "scandal, " "defamation, " "impatient words, " "brokenpromises, " "untruth, " "absence from church, " "speaking evil of saints, ""non-payment of offerings, " and other delinquencies incapable of legaldefinition; matters, all of them, on which it was well, if possible, tokeep men from going wrong; but offering wide opportunities for injustice;while all charges, whether well founded or ill, met with ready acceptancein courts where innocence and guilt alike contributed to the revenue. [193]"Mortuary claims" were another fertile matter for prosecution; and probateduties and legacy duties; and a further lucrative occupation was thepunishment of persons who complained against the constitutions of thecourts themselves; to complain against the justice of the courts being tocomplain against the church, and to complain against the church beingheresy. To answer accusations on such subjects as these, men were liable tobe summoned, at the will of the officials, to the metropolitan courts ofthe archbishops, hundreds of miles from their homes. [194] No expenses wereallowed; and if the charges were without foundation, it was rare that costscould be recovered. Innocent or guilty, the accused parties were equallybound to appear. [195] If they failed, they were suspended for contempt. Ifafter receiving notice of their suspension, they did not appear, they wereexcommunicated; and no proof of the groundlessness of the original chargeavailed to relieve them from their sentence, till they had paid for theirdeliverance. 

Well did the church lawyers understand how to make their work productive. Excommunication seems but a light thing when there are many communions. Itwas no light thing when it was equivalent to outlawry; when the personexcommunicated might be seized and imprisoned at the will of the ordinary;when he was cut off from all holy offices; when no one might speak to him, trade with him, or show him the most trivial courtesy; and when hisfriends, if they dared to assist him, were subject to the same penalties. In the _Register_ of the Bishop of London[196] there is more than oneinstance to be found of suspension and excommunication for the simple crimeof offering shelter to an excommunicated neighbour; and thus offence begotoffence, guilt spread like a contagion through the influence of naturalhumanity, and a single refusal of obedience to a frivolous citation mightinvolve entire families in misery and ruin. 

The people might have endured better to submit to so enormous a tyranny, ifthe conduct of the clergy themselves had given them a title to respect, orif equal justice had been distributed to lay and spiritual offenders. "Benefit of clergy, " unhappily, as at this time interpreted, was littleelse than a privilege to commit sins with impunity. The grossest moralprofligacy in a priest was passed over with indifference; and so far fromexacting obedience in her ministers to a higher standard than she requiredof ordinary persons, the church extended her limits under fictitiouspretexts as a sanctuary for lettered villany. Every person who could readwas claimed by prescriptive usage as a clerk, and shielded under herprotecting mantle; nor was any clerk amenable for the worst crimes to thesecular jurisdiction, until he had been first tried and degraded by theecclesiastical judges. So far was this preposterous exemption carried, thatprevious to the passing of the first of the 23rd of Henry the Eighth, [197]those who were within the degrees might commit murder with impunity, theforms which it was necessary to observe in degrading a priest or deaconbeing so complicated as to amount to absolute protection. [198]

Among the clergy, properly so called, however, the prevailing offence wasnot crime, but licentiousness. A doubt has recently crept in among ourhistorians as to the credibility of the extreme language in which thecontemporary writers spoke upon this painful topic. It will scarcely besupposed that the picture has been overdrawn in the act books of theConsistory courts; and as we see it there it is almost too deplorable forbelief, as well in its own intrinsic hideousness as in the unconsciousconnivance of the authorities. Brothels were kept in London for theespecial use of priests;[199] the "confessional" was abused in the mostopen and abominable manner. [200] Cases occurred of the same frightfulprofanity in the service of the mass, which at Rome startled Luther intoProtestantism;[201] and acts of incest between nuns and monks were toofrequently exposed to allow us to regard the detected instances asexceptions. [202] It may be said that the proceedings upon these chargesprove at least that efforts were made to repress them. The bishops musthave the benefit of the plea, and the two following instances will show howfar it will avail their cause. In the Records of the London Court I find acertain Thomas Wyseman, priest, summoned for fornication and incontinency. He was enjoined for penance, that on the succeeding Sunday, while high masswas singing, he should offer at each of the altars in the Church of St. Bartholomew a candle of wax, value one penny, saying therewith five_Paternosters_, five _Ave Marys_, and five _Credos_. On the followingFriday he was to offer a candle of the same price before the crucifix, standing barefooted, and one before the image of cur Lady of Grace. Thispenance accomplished he appeared again at the court and compounded forabsolution, paying six shillings and eightpence. [203]

An exposure too common to attract notice, and a fine of six and eightpencewas held sufficient penalty for a mortal sin. 

Even this, however, was a severe sentence compared with the sentence passedupon another priest who confessed to incest with the prioress of Kilbourn. The offender was condemned to bear a cross in a procession in his parishchurch, and was excused his remaining guilt for three shillings andfourpence. [204]

I might multiply such instances indefinitely; but there is no occasion forme to stain my pages with them. [205]

An inactive imagination may readily picture to itself the indignationlikely to have been felt by a high-minded people, when they were forced tosubmit their lives, their habits, their most intimate conversations andopinions to a censorship conducted by clergy of such a character; when theoffences of these clergy themselves were passed over with such indifferentcarelessness. Men began to ask themselves who and what these persons werewho retained the privileges of saints, [206] and were incapable of the mostordinary duties; and for many years before the burst of the Reformation thecoming storm was gathering. Priests were hooted, or "knocked down into thekennel, "[207] as they walked along the streets--women refused to receivethe holy bread from hands which they thought polluted, [208] and theappearance of an apparitor of the courts to serve a process or a citationin a private house was a signal for instant explosion. Violent words werethe least which these officials had to fear, and they were fortunate ifthey escaped so lightly. A stranger had died in a house in St. Dunstan'sbelonging to a certain John Fleming, and an apparitor had been sent "toseal his chamber and his goods" that the church might not lose her dues. John Fleming drove him out, saying loudly unto him, "Thou shalt seale nodoor here; go thy way, thou stynkyng knave, ye are but knaves and brybourseverych one of you. "[209] Thomas Banister, of St. Mary Wolechurch, when aprocess was served upon him, "did threaten to slay the apparitor. " "Thouhorson knave, " he said to him, "without thou tell me who set thee awork tosummon me to the court, by Goddis woundes, and by this gold, I shall brakethy head. "[210] A "waiter, at the sign of the Cock, " fell in trouble forsaying that "the sight of a priest did make him sick, " also, "that he wouldgo sixty miles to indict a priest, " saying also in the presence ofmany--"horsyn priests, they shall be indicted as many as come to myhandling. "[211] Often the officers found threats convert themselves intoacts. The apparitor of the Bishop of London went with a citation into theshop of a mercer of St. Bride's, Henry Clitheroe by name. "Who does citeme?" asked the mercer. "Marry, that do I, " answered the apparitor, "if thouwilt anything with it;" whereupon, as the apparitor deposeth, the saidHenry Clitheroe did hurl at him from off his finger that instrument of hisart called the "thymmelle, " and he, the apparitor, drawing his sword, "thesaid Henry did snatch up his virga, Anglice, his yard, and did pursue theapparitor into the public streets, and after multiplying of many blows didbreak the head of the said apparitor. "[212] These are light matters, butthey were straws upon the stream; and such a scene as this which followsreveals the principles on which the courts awarded their judgment. OneRichard Hunt was summoned for certain articles implying contempt, and forvilipending his lordship's jurisdiction. Being examined, he confessed tothe words following: "That all false matters were bolstered and clokyd inthis court of Paul's Cheyne; moreover he called the apparitor, WilliamMiddleton, false knave in the full court, and his father's dettes, said he, by means of his mother-in-law and master commissary, were not payd; andthis he would abide by, that he had now in this place said no more buttruth. " Being called on to answer further, he said he would not, and hislordship did therefore excommunicate him. [213] From so brief an entry wecannot tell on which side the justice lay; but at least we can measure theequity of a tribunal which punished complaints against itself withexcommunication, and dismissed the confessed incest of a priest with a fineof a few shillings. 

Such then were the English consistory courts. I have selected but a fewinstances from the proceedings of a single one of them. If we are tounderstand the weight with which the system pressed upon the people, wemust multiply the proceedings at St. Paul's by the number of the Englishdioceses; the number of dioceses by the number of archdeaconries; we mustremember that in proportion to the distance from London the abuse must haveincreased indefinitely from the absence of even partial surveillance; wemust remember that appeals were permitted only from one ecclesiasticalcourt to another; from the archdeacon's court to that of the bishop of thediocese, from that of the bishop to the Court of Arches; that any languageof impatience or resistance furnished suspicion of heresy, and that theonly security therefore was submission. We can then imagine what Englandmust have been with an archdeacon's commissary sitting constantly in everytown; exercising an undefined jurisdiction over general morality; and everycourt swarming with petty lawyers who lived upon the fees which they couldextract. Such a system for the administration of justice was perhaps nevertolerated before in any country. 

But the time of reckoning at length was arrived; slowly the hand hadcrawled along the dial plate; slowly as if the event would never come: andwrong was heaped on wrong; and oppression cried, and it seemed as if no earhad heard its voice; till the measure of the circle was at lengthfulfilled, the finger touched the hour, and as the strokes of the greathammer rang out above the nation, in an instant the mighty fabric ofiniquity was shivered into ruins. Wolsey had dreamed that it might stillstand, self-reformed as he hoped to see it; but in his dread lest any handsbut those of friends should touch the work, he had "prolonged its sicklydays, " waiting for the convenient season which was not to be; he had putoff the meeting of parliament, knowing that if parliament were onceassembled, he would be unable to resist the pressure which would be broughtto bear upon him; and in the impatient minds of the people he hadidentified himself with the evils which he alone for the few last years hadhindered from falling. At length he had fallen himself, and his disgracewas celebrated in London with enthusiastic rejoicing as the inauguration ofthe new era. On the eighteenth of October, 1529, Wolsey delivered up theseals. He was ordered to retire to Esher; and, "at the taking of hisbarge, " Cavendish saw no less than a thousand boats full of men and womenof the city of London, "waffeting up and down in Thames, " to see him sent, as they expected, to the Tower. [214] A fortnight later the same crowd wasperhaps again assembled on a wiser occasion, and with truer reason forexultation, to see the king coming up in his barge from Greenwich to openparliament. 

"According to the summons, " says Hall, "the King of England began his highcourt of parliament the third day of November, on which day he came bywater to his palace of Bridewell, and there he and his nobles put on theirrobes of Parliament, and so came to the Black Friars Church, where a massof the Holy Ghost was solemnly sung by the king's chaplain; and after themass, the king, with all his Lords and Commons which were summoned toappear on that day, came into the Parliament. The king sate on his throneor seat royal, and Sir Thomas More, his chancellor, standing on the righthand of the king, made an eloquent oration, setting forth the causes why atthat time the king so had summoned them. "[215]

"Like as a good shepherd, " More said, "which not only keepeth and attendethwell his sheep, but also foreseeth and provideth for all things whicheither may be hurtful or noysome to his flock; so the king, which is theshepherd, ruler, and governor of his realm, vigilantly foreseeing things tocome, considers how that divers laws, before this time made, are now, bylong continuance of time and mutation of things, become very insufficientand imperfect; and also, by the frail condition of man, divers newenormities are sprung amongst the people, for the which no law is yet madeto reform the same. For this cause the king at this time has summoned hishigh court of parliament; and I liken the king to a shepherd or herdsman, because if a prince be compared to his riches, he is but a rich man; if aprince be compared to his honour, he is but an honourable man; but comparehim to the multitude of his people, and the number of his flock, then he isa ruler, a governor of might and puissance; so that his people maketh him aprince, as of the multitude of sheep cometh the name of a shepherd. 

"And as you see that amongst a great flock of sheep some be rotten andfaulty, which the good shepherd sendeth from the good sheep; so the greatwether which is of late fallen, as you all know, so craftily, so scabedly, yea, so untruly juggled with the king, that all men must needs guess thathe thought in himself, either the king had no wit to perceive his craftydoings, or else that he would not see nor know them. 

"But he was deceived, for his Grace's sight was so quick and penetrablethat he saw him; yea, and saw through him, both within and without; andaccording to his desert he hath had a gentle correction, which smallpunishment the king will not to be an example to other offenders; butclearly declareth that whosoever hereafter shall make like attempt, orshall commit like offence, shall not escape with like punishment. 

"And because you of the Commons House be a gross multitude, and cannot allspeak at one time, the king's pleasure is, that you resort to the NetherHouse, and then amongst yourselves, according to the old and antientcustom, choose an able person to be your common mouth and speaker. "[216]

The invective against "the great wether" was not perhaps the portion of thespeech to which the audience listened with least interest. In the minds ofcontemporaries, principles are identified with persons, who form, as itwere, the focus on which the passions concentrate. At present we mayconsent to forget Wolsey, and fix our attention on the more permanentlyessential matter--the reform of the laws. The world was changing; howswiftly, how completely, no living person knew;--but a confusion no longertolerable was a patent fact to all men; and with a wise instinct it wasresolved that the grievances of the nation, which had accumulated throughcenturies, should be submitted to a complete ventilation, without reserve, check, or secrecy. 

For this purpose it was essential that the Houses should not be interferedwith, that they should be allowed full liberty to express their wishes andto act upon them. Accordingly, the practice then usual with ministers, ofundertaking the direction of the proceedings, was clearly on this occasionforegone. In the House of Commons then, as much as now, there was in theoryunrestricted liberty of discussion, and free right for any member tooriginate whatever motion he pleased. "The discussions in the EnglishParliament, " wrote Henry himself to the pope, "are free and unrestricted;the crown has no power to limit their debates or to controul the votes ofthe members. They determine everything for themselves, as the interests ofthe commonwealth require. "[217] But so long as confidence existed betweenthe crown and the people, these rights were in great measure surrendered. The ministers prepared the business which was to be transacted; and thetemper of the Houses was usually so well understood, that, except whenthere was a demand for money, it was rare that a measure was proposed theacceptance of which was doubtful, or the nature of which would provokedebate. So little jealousy, indeed, was in quiet times entertained of thepower of the crown, and so little was a residence in London to the taste ofthe burgesses and the country gentlemen, that not only were their expensesdefrayed by a considerable salary, but it was found necessary to forbidthem absenting themselves from their duties by a positive enactment. [218]

In the composition of the House of Commons, however, which had nowassembled, no symptoms appeared of such indifference. The election hadtaken place in the midst of great and general excitement; and the memberschosen, if we may judge from their acts and their petitions, were men ofthat broad resolved temper, who only in times of popular effervescence arecalled forward into prominence. It would have probably been unsafe for thecrown to attempt dictation or repression at such a time, if it had desiredto do so. Under the actual circumstances, its interest was to encourage thefullest expression of public feeling. 

The proceedings were commenced with a formal "act of accusation" againstthe clergy, which was submitted to the king in the name of the Commons ofEngland, and contained a summary of the wrongs of which the peoplecomplained. This remarkable document must have been drawn up before theopening of parliament, and must have been presented in the first week ofthe session, --probably on the first day on which the House met to transactbusiness. [219] There is appearance of haste in the composition, littleorder being observed in the catalogue of grievances; but inasmuch as itcontains the germ of all the acts which were framed in the following yearsfor the reform of the church, and is in fact the most complete exhibitionwhich we possess of the working of the church system at the time when itceased to be any more tolerable, I have thought it well to insert ituncurtailed. Although the fact of the presentation of this petition hasbeen well known, it has not been accurately described by any of ourhistorians, none of them appearing to have seen more than incorrect andimperfect epitomes of it. [220]

"TO THE KING OUR SOVEREIGN LORD

"In most humble wise show unto your Highness and your most prudent wisdomyour faithful, loving, and most obedient servants the Commons in this yourpresent parliament assembled; that of late, as well through new fantasticaland erroneous opinions grown by occasion of frantic seditious bookscompiled, imprinted, published, and made in the English tongue, contraryand against the very true Catholic and Christian faith; as also by theextreme and uncharitable behaviour and dealing of divers ordinaries, theircommissaries and sumners, which have heretofore had, and yet have theexamination in and upon the said errours and heretical opinions; muchdiscord, variance, and debate hath risen, and more and more daily is liketo increase and ensue amongst the universal sort of your said subjects, aswell spiritual as temporal, each against the other--in most uncharitablemanner, to the great inquietation, vexation, and breach of your peacewithin this your most Catholic Realm:

"The special particular griefs whereof, which most principally concern yourCommons and lay subjects, and which are, as they undoubtedly suppose, thevery chief fountains, occasions, and causes that daily breedeth andnourisheth the said seditious factions, deadly hatred, and mostuncharitable part taking, of either part of said subjects spiritual andtemporal against the other, followingly do ensue. --

"I. First the prelates and spiritual ordinaries of this your most excellentRealm of England, and the clergy of the same, have in their convocationsheretofore made or caused to be made, and also daily do make many anddivers fashions of laws, constitutions, and ordinances; without yourknowledge or most Royal assent, and without the assent and consent of anyof your lay subjects; unto the which laws your said lay subjects have notonly heretofore been and daily be constrained to obey, in their bodies, goods, and possessions; but have also been compelled to incur daily intothe censures of the same, and been continually put to importable chargesand expenses, against all equity, right, and good conscience. And yet yoursaid humble subjects ne their predecessors could ever be privy to the saidlaws; ne any of the said laws have been declared unto them in the Englishtongue, or otherwise published, by knowledge whereof they might haveeschewed the penalties, dangers, or censures of the same; which laws somade your said most humble and obedient servants, under the supportation ofyour Majesty, suppose to be not only to the diminution and derogation ofyour imperial jurisdiction and prerogative royal, but also to the greatprejudice, inquietation, and damage of your said subjects. 

"II. Also now of late there hath been devised by the Most Reverend Fatherin God, William, Archbishop of Canterbury, that in the courts which hecalleth his Courts of the Arches and Audience, shall only be ten proctorsat his deputation, which be sworn to preserve and promote the onlyjurisdiction of his said courts; by reason whereof, if any of your laysubjects should have any lawful cause against the judges of the saidcourts, or any doctors or proctors of the same, or any of their friendsand adherents, they can ne may in nowise have indifferent counsel: andalso all the causes depending in any of the said courts may by theconfederacy of the said few proctors be in such wise tracted and delayed, as your subjects suing in the same shall be put to importable charges, costs, and expense. And further, in case that any matter there beingpreferred should touch your crown, your regal jurisdiction, andprerogative Royal, yet the same shall not be disclosed by any of thesaid proctors for fear of the loss of their offices. Your most obedientsubjects do therefore, under protection of your Majesty, suppose thatyour Highness should have the nomination of some convenient number ofproctors to be always attendant upon the said Courts of Arches andAudience, there to be sworn to the preferment of your jurisdiction andprerogative, and to the expedition of the causes of your lay subjectsrepairing and suing to the same. 

"III. And also many of your said most humble and obedient subjects, and_specially those that be of the poorest sort_, within this your Realm, bedaily convented and called before the said spiritual ordinaries, theircommissaries and substitutes, _ex officio_; sometimes, at the pleasure ofthe said ordinaries, for malice without any cause; and sometimes at theonly promotion and accusement of their summoners and apparitors, beinglight and undiscreet persons; without any lawful cause of accusation, orcredible fame proved against them, and without any presentment in thevisitation: and your said poor subjects be thus inquieted, disturbed, vexed, troubled, and put to excessive and importable charges for them tobear--and many times be suspended and excommunicate for small and lightcauses upon the only certificate of the proctors of the adversaries, madeunder a feigned seal which every proctor hath in his keeping; whereas theparty suspended or excommunicate many times never had any warning; and yetwhen he shall be absolved, if it be out of court, he shall be compelled topay to his own proctor twenty[221] _pence_; to the proctor which is againsthim other twenty pence, and twenty pence to the scribe, besides a privyreward that the judge shall have, to the great impoverishing of your saidpoor lay subjects. 

"IV. Also your said most humble and obedient servants find themselvesgrieved with the great and excessive fees taken in the said spiritualcourts, and especially in the said Courts of the Arches and Audience; wherethey take for every citation two shillings and sixpence; for everyinhibition six shillings and eightpence; for every proxy sixteen pence; forevery certificate sixteen pence; for every libel three shillings andfourpence; for every answer for every libel three shillings and fourpence;for every act, if it be but two words according to the register, fourpence;for every personal citation or decree three shillings and fourpence; forevery sentence or judgment, to the judge twenty-six shillings andeightpence; for every testament upon such sentence or judgment twenty-sixshillings and eightpence; for every significavit twelve shillings; forevery commission to examine witnesses twelve shillings, which charges bethought importable to be borne by your said subjects, and very necessary tobe reformed. 

"V. And also the said prelates and ordinaries daily do permit and sufferthe parsons, vicars, curates, parish priests, and other spiritual personshaving cure of souls within this your Realm, to exact and take of yourhumble servants divers sums of money for the sacraments and sacramentals ofHoly Church, sometimes denying the same without they be first paid[222] thesaid sums of money, which sacraments and sacramentals your said most humbleand obedient subjects, under protection of your Highness, do suppose andthink ought to be in most reverend, charitable, and godly wise freelyministered unto them at all times requisite, without denial, or exaction ofany manner sums of money to be demanded or asked for the same. 

"VI. And also in the spiritual courts of the said prelates and ordinariesthere be limited and appointed so many judges, scribes, apparitors, summoners, appraysers, and other ministers for the approbation ofTestaments, which covet so much their own private lucres, and thesatisfaction and appetites of the said prelates and ordinaries, that whenany of your said loving subjects do repair to any of the said courts forthe probate of any Testaments, they do in such wise make so long delays, orexcessively do take of them so large fees and rewards for the same as isimportable for them to bear, directly against all justice, law, equity, andgood conscience. Therefore your most humble and obedient subjects do, underyour gracious correction and supportation, suppose it were very necessarythat the said ordinaries in their deputation of judges should be bound toappoint and assign such discreet, gracious, and honest persons, havingsufficient learning, wit, discretion, and understanding; and also beingendowed with such spiritual promotion, stipend, and salary; as they beingjudges in their said courts might and may minister to every personrepairing to the same, justice--without taking any manner of fee or rewardfor any manner of sentence or judgment to be given before them. 

"VII. And also divers spiritual persons being presented as well by yourHighness as others within this your Realm to divers benefices or otherspiritual promotions, the said ordinaries and their ministers do not onlytake of them for their letters of institution and induction many large sumsof money and rewards; but also do pact and covenant with the same, takingsure bonds for their indemnity to answer to the said ordinaries for thefirstfruits of their said benefices after their institution--so as they, being once presented or promoted, as aforesaid, are by the said ordinariesvery uncharitably handled, to their no little hindrance and impoverishment;which your said subjects suppose not only to be against all laws, right, and good conscience, but also to be simony, and contrary to the laws ofGod. 

"VIII. And also _the said spiritual ordinaries do daily confer and givesundry benefices unto certain young folks, calling them their nephews orkinsfolk_, being in their minority and within age, not apt ne able to servethe cure of any such benefice: whereby the said ordinaries do keep anddetain the fruits and profits of the same benefices in their own hands, andthereby accumulate to themselves right great and large sums of money andyearly profits, to the most pernicious example of your said laysubjects--and so the cures and promotions given unto such infants be onlyemployed to the enriching of the said ordinaries; and the poor silly soulsof your people, which should be taught in the parishes given as aforesaid, for lack of good curates [be left] to perish without doctrine or any goodteaching. 

"IX. Also, a great number of holydays now at this present time, with verysmall devotion, be solemnised and kept throughout this your Realm, upon thewhich many great, abominable, and execrable vices, idle and wanton sports, be used and exercised, which holydays, if it may stand with your Grace'spleasure, and specially such as fall in the harvest, might, by yourMajesty, with the advice of your most honourable council, prelates, andordinaries, be made fewer in number; and those that shall be hereafterordained to stand and continue, might and may be the more devoutly, religiously, and reverendly observed, to the laud of Almighty God, and tothe increase of your high honour and favour. 

"X. And furthermore the said spiritual ordinaries, their commissaries andsubstitutes, sometimes for their own pleasure, sometimes by the sinisterprocurement of other spiritual persons, use to make out process againstdivers of your said subjects, and thereby compel them to appear beforethemselves, to answer at a certain day and place to such articles as bythem shall be, _ex officio_, then proposed; and that secretly and not inopen places;[223] and forthwith upon their appearance, without anydeclaration made or showed, commit and send them to ward, sometimes for[half] a year, sometimes for a whole year or more, before they may inanywise know either the cause of their imprisonment or the name of theiraccuser;[224] and finally after their great costs and charges therein, whenall is examined and nothing can be proved against them, but they clearlyinnocent for any fault or crime that can be laid unto them, they be againset at large without any recompence or amends in that behalf to be towardsthem adjudged. 

"XI. And also if percase upon the said process and appearance any party beupon the said matter, cause, or examination, brought forth and named, either as party or witness, and then upon the proof and trial thereof benot able to prove and verify the said accusation and testimony against theparty accused, then the person so accused is for the more part without anyremedy for his charges and wrongful vexation to be towards him adjudged andrecovered. 

"XII. Also upon the examination of the said accusation, if heresy beordinarily laid unto the charge of the parties so accused, then the saidordinaries or their ministers use to put to them such subtleinterrogatories concerning the high mysteries of our faith, as are ablequickly to trap a simple unlearned, or yet a well-witted layman withoutlearning, and bring them by such sinister introductions soon to their ownconfusion. And further, if there chance any heresy to be by such subtlepolicy, by any person confessed in words, and yet never committed neitherin thought nor deed, then put they, without further favour, the said personeither to make his purgation, and so thereby to lose his honesty andcredence for ever; or else as some simple silly soul [may do], the saidperson may stand precisely to the testimony of his own well-knownconscience, rather than confess his innocent truth in that behalf [to beother than he knows it to be], and so be utterly destroyed. And if itfortune the said party so accused to deny the said accusation, and to puthis adversaries to prove the same as being untrue, forged and imaginedagainst him, then for the most part such witnesses as are brought forth forthe same, be they but two in number, never so sore diffamed, of littletruth or credence, they shall be allowed and enabled, only by discretion ofthe said ordinaries, their commissaries or substitutes; and thereuponsufficient cause be found to proceed to judgment, to deliver the party soaccused either to secular hands, after abjuration, [225] without remedy; orafore if he submit himself, as best happeneth, he shall have to make hispurgation and bear a faggot, to his extreme shame and undoing. 

"In consideration of all these things, most gracious Sovereign Lord, andforasmuch as there is at this present time, and by a few years past hathbeen outrageous violence on the one part and much default and lack ofpatient sufferance, charity, and good will on the other part; andconsequently a marvellous disorder [hath ensued] of the godly quiet, peace, and tranquillity in which this your Realm heretofore, ever hitherto, hasbeen through your politic wisdom, most honourable fame, and catholic faithinviolably preserved; it may therefore, most benign Sovereign Lord, likeyour excellent goodness for the tender and universally indifferent zeal, benign love and favour which your Highness beareth towards both the saidparties, that the said articles (if they shall be by your most clear andperfect judgment, thought any instrument of the said disorders andfactions), being deeply and weightily, after your accustomed ways andmanner, searched and considered; graciously to provide (all violence onboth sides utterly and clearly set apart) some such necessary and behovefulremedies as may effectually reconcile and bring in perpetual unity, yoursaid subjects, spiritual and temporal; and for the establishment thereof, to make and ordain on both sides such strait laws against transgressors andoffenders as shall be too heavy, dangerous, and weighty for them, or any ofthem, to bear, suffer, and sustain. 

"Whereunto your said Commons most humbly and entirely beseech your Grace, as the only Head, Sovereign Lord and Protector of both the said parties, inwhom and by whom the only and sole redress, reformation, and remedy hereinabsolutely resteth [of your goodness to consent]. By occasion whereof allyour Commons in their conscience surely account that, beside the marvellousfervent love that your Highness shall thereby engender in their heartstowards your Grace, ye shall do the most princely feat, and show the mosthonourable and charitable precedent and mirrour that ever did sovereignlord upon his subjects; and therewithal merit and deserve of our mercifulGod eternal bliss--whose goodness grant your Grace in goodly, princely, andhonourable estate long to reign, prosper, and continue as the SovereignLord over all your said most humble and obedient servants. "[226]

But little comment need be added in explanation of this petition, which, though drawn with evident haste, is no less remarkable for temper and goodfeeling, than for the masterly clearness with which the evils complained ofare laid bare. Historians will be careful for the future how they swell thecharges against Wolsey with quoting the lamentations of Archbishop Warham, when his Court of Arches was for a while superseded by the Legate's Court, and causes lingering before his commissaries were summarily dispatched at ahigher tribunal. [227] The archbishop professed, indeed, that he derived nopersonal advantage from his courts, [228] and as we have only the popularimpression to the contrary to set against his word, we must believe him;yet it was of small moment to the laity who were pillaged, whether thespoils taken from them filled the coffers of the master, or those of hisfollowers and friends. 

When we consider, also, the significant allusion[229] to the young folkswhom the bishops called their nephews, we cease to wonder at their lenientdealing with the poor priests who had sunk under the temptations of frailhumanity; and still less can we wonder at the rough handling which was soonfound necessary to bring back these high dignitaries to a better mind. 

The House of Commons, in casting their grievances into the form of apetition, showed that they had no desire to thrust forward of themselvesviolent measures of reform; they sought rather to explain firmly anddecisively what the country required. The king, selecting out of the manypoints noticed those which seemed most immediately pressing, referred themback to the parliament, with a direction to draw up such enactments as intheir own judgment would furnish effective relief. In the meantime hesubmitted the petition itself to the consideration of the bishops, requiring their immediate answer to the charges against them, andaccompanied this request with a further important requisition. Thelegislative authority of convocation lay at the root of the evils whichwere most complained of. The bishops and clergy held themselves independentof either crown or parliament, passing canons by their own irresponsibleand unchecked will, irrespective of the laws of the land, and sometimes indirect violation of them; and to these canons the laity were amenablewithout being made acquainted with their provisions, learning them only inthe infliction of penalties for their unintended breach. The king requiredthat thenceforward the convocation should consent to place itself in theposition of parliament, and that his own consent should be required andreceived before any law passed by convocation should have the force ofstatute. [230]

Little notion, indeed, could the bishops have possessed of the position inwhich they were standing. It seemed as if they literally believed that thepromise of perpetuity which Christ had made to his church was a charm whichwould hold them free in the quiet course of their injustice; or else, underthe blinding influence of custom, they did not really know that anyinjustice adhered to them. They could see in themselves only the idealvirtues of their saintly office, and not the vices of their fragilehumanity; they believed that they were still holy, still spotless, stillimmaculate, and therefore that no danger might come near them. It cannothave been but that, before the minds of such men as Warham and Fisher, somevisions of a future must at times have floated, which hung so plainlybefore the eyes of Wolsey and of Sir Thomas More. [231] They could not havebeen wholly deaf to the storm in Germany; and they must have heardsomething of the growls of smothered anger which for years had been audibleat home, to all who had ears to hear. [232] Yet if any such thoughts attimes did cross their imagination, they were thrust aside as an uneasydream, to be shaken off like a nightmare, or with the coward's consolation, "It will last my time. " If the bishops ever felt an uneasy moment, there isno trace of uneasiness in the answer which they sent in to the king, andwhich now, when we read it with the light which is thrown back out of thesucceeding years, seems like the composition of mere lunacy. Perhaps theyhad confidence in the support of Henry. In their courts they were in thehabit of identifying an attack upon themselves with an attack upon thedoctrines of the Church; and reading the king's feelings in their own, theymay have considered themselves safe under the protection of a sovereign whohad broken a lance with Luther, and had called himself the Pope's champion. Perhaps they thought that they had bound him to themselves by a declarationwhich they had all signed in the preceding summer in favour of thedivorce. [233] Perhaps they were but steeped in the dulness of officiallethargy. The defence is long, wearying the patience to read it; wearyingthe imagination to invent excuses for the falsehoods which it contains. Yetit is well to see all men in the light in which they see themselves; andjustice requires that we allow the bishops the benefit of their own reply. It was couched in the following words:--[234]

"After our most humble wise, with our most bounden duty of honour andreverence to your excellent Majesty, endued from God with incomparablewisdom and goodness. Please it the same to understand that we, your oratorsand daily bounden bedemen, have read and perused a certain supplicationwhich the Commons of your Grace's honourable parliament now assembled haveoffered unto your Highness, and by your Grace's commandment delivered untous, that we should make answer thereunto. We have, as the time hath served, made this answer following, beseeching your Grace's indifferent benignitygraciously to hear the same. 

"And first for that discord, variance, and debate which, in the preface ofthe said supplication they do allege to have risen among your Grace'ssubjects, spiritual and temporal, occasioned, as they say, by theuncharitable behaviour and demeanour of divers ordinaries: to this we, theordinaries, answer, assuring your Majesty that in our hearts there is nosuch discord or variance ort our part against our brethren in God andghostly children your subjects, as is induced in this preface; but ourdaily prayer is and shall be that all peace and concord may increase amongyour Grace's true subjects our said children, whom God be our witness welove, have loved, and shall love ever with hearty affection; neverintending any hurt ne harm towards any of them in soul or body; ne have weever enterprised anything against them of trouble, vexation, ordispleasure; but only have, with all charity, exercised the spiritualjurisdiction of the Church, as we are bound of duty, upon certainevil-disposed persons infected with the pestilent poison of heresy. And tohave peace with such had been against the Gospel of our Saviour Christ, wherein he saith, _Non veni mittere pacem sed gladium_. Wherefore, forasmuch as we know well that there be as well-disposed andwell-conscienced men of your Grace's Commons in no small number assembled, as ever we knew at any time in parliament; and with that consider how onour part there is given no such occasion why the whole number of thespirituality and clergy should be thus noted unto your Highness; wehumbling our hearts to God and remitting the judgment of this ourinquietation to Him, and trusting, as his Scripture teacheth, that if welove him above all, omnia cooperabuntur in bonum, shall endeavour todeclare to your Highness the innocency of us, your poor orators. 

"And where, after the general preface of the same supplication, yourGrace's Commons descend to special particular griefs, and first to thosedivers fashions of laws concerning temporal things, whereon, as they say, the clergy in their convocation have made and daily do make divers laws, totheir great trouble and inquietation, which said laws be sometimesrepugnant to the statutes of your Realm, with many other complaintsthereupon:[235] To this we say, that forasmuch as we repute and take ourauthority of making of laws to be grounded upon the Scriptures of God andthe determination of Holy Church, which must be the rule and square to trythe justice and righteousness of all laws, as well spiritual as temporal, we verily trust that in such laws as have been made by us, or by ourpredecessors, the same being sincerely interpreted, and after the meaningof the makers, there shall be found nothing contained in them but such asmay be well justified by the said rule and square. And if it shallotherwise appear, as it is our duty whereunto we shall always mostdiligently apply ourselves to reform our ordinances to God's commission, and to conform our statutes to the determination of Scripture and HolyChurch; _so we hope in God, and shall daily pray for the same, that yourHighness will, if there appear cause why, with the assent of your people, temper your Grace's laws accordingly; whereby shall ensue a most sure andhearty conjunction and agreement; God being lapis angularis_. 

"And as concerning the requiring of your Highness's royal assent to theauthorising of such laws as have been made by our predecessors, or shall bemade by us, in such points and articles, as we have authority to rule andorder; we knowing your Highness's wisdom, virtue, and learning, nothingdoubt but that the same perceiveth how the granting thereunto dependeth notupon our will and liberty, _and that we may not submit the execution of ourcharges and duty certainly prescribed to us by God to your Highness'sassent_; although, indeed, the same is most worthy for your most princelyand excellent virtues, not only to give your royal assent, but also todevise and command what we should for good order or manners by statutes andlaws provide in the church. Nevertheless, we considering we may not so norin such sort restrain the doing of our office in the feeding and ruling ofChrist's people, we most humbly desire your Grace (as the same hath doneheretofore) to show your Grace's mind and opinion unto us, which we shallmost gladly hear and follow if it shall please God to inspire us so to do;and with all humility we therefore beseech your Grace, following the stepsof your most noble progenitors, to maintain and defend such laws andordinances as we, according to our calling and by the authority of God, shall for his honour make to the edification of virtue and the maintainingof Christ's faith, whereof your Highness is defender in name, and hath beenhitherto indeed a special protector. 

"Furthermore, where there be found in the said supplication, with mentionof your Grace's person, other griefs that some of the said laws extend tothe goods and possessions of your said lay subjects, declaring thetransgressors not only to fall under the terrible censure ofexcommunication, but also under the detestable crime of heresy:

"To this we answer that we remember no such, and yet if there be any such, it is but according to the common law of the Church, and also to yourGrace's law, which determine and decree that every person spiritual ortemporal condemned of heresy shall forfeit his moveables or immoveables toyour Highness, or to the lord spiritual or temporal that by law hath rightto them. [236] Other statutes we remember none that toucheth lands or goods. If there be, it were good that they were brought forth to be weighed andpondered accordingly. 

"Item as touching the second principal article of the said supplication, where they say that divers and many of your Grace's obedient subjects, andespecially they that be of the poorest sort, be daily called before us orbefore our substitutes ex officio; sometimes at the pleasure of us, theordinaries, without any probable cause, and sometimes at the only promotionof our summoner, without any credible fame first proved against them, andwithout presentment in the visitation or lawful accusation:

"On this we desire your high wisdom and learning to consider that albeit inthe ordering of Christ's people, your Grace's subjects, God of Hisspiritual goodness assisteth his church, and inspireth by the Holy Ghost aswe verily trust such rules and laws as tend to the wealth of his electfolk; yet upon considerations to man unknown, his infinite wisdom leavethor permitteth men to walk in their infirmity and frailty; so that we cannotne will arrogantly presume of ourselves, as though being in name spiritualmen, we were also in all our acts and doings clean and void from alltemporal affections and carnality of this world, or that the laws of thechurch made for spiritual and ghostly purpose be not sometime applied toworldly intent. This we ought and do lament, as becometh us, very sore. Nevertheless, as the evil deeds of men be the mere defaults of thoseparticular men, and not of the whole order of the clergy, nor of the lawwholesomely by them made; our request and petition shall be with allhumility and reverence; that laws well made be not therefore called evilbecause by all men and at all times they be not well executed; and that insuch defaults as shall appear such distribution may be used _ut unusquisqueonus suum portet_, and remedy be found to reform the offenders; unto thewhich your Highness shall perceive as great towardness in your said oratorsas can be required upon declaration of particulars. And other answer thanthis cannot be made in the name of your whole clergy, for though _in multisoffendimus omnes_, as St. James saith, yet not 'in omnibus offendimusomnes;' and the whole number can neither justify ne condemn particular actsto them unknown but thus. He that calleth a man ex officio for correctionof sin, doeth well. He that calleth men for pleasure or vexation, doethevil. Summoners should be honest men. If they offend in their office, theyshould be punished. To prove first [their faults] before men be called, isnot necessary. He that is called according to the laws ex officio orotherwise, cannot complain. He that is otherwise ordered should have byreason convenient recompence and so forth; that is well to be allowed, andmisdemeanour when it appeareth to be reproved. 

"Item where they say in the same article that upon their appearance exofficio at the only pleasure of the ordinaries, they be committed to prisonwithout bail or mainprize; and there they lie some half a year or morebefore they come to their deliverance; to this we answer, --

"That we use no prison before conviction but for sure custody, and only ofsuch as be suspected of heresy, in which crime, thanked be God, there hathfallen no such notable person in our time, or of such qualities as hathgiven occasion of any sinister suspicion to be conceived of malice orhatred to his person other than the heinousness of their crime deserveth. _Truth it is that certain apostates, friars, monks, lewd priests, bankruptmerchants, vagabonds, and lewd idle fellows of corrupt intent, haveembraced the abominable and erroneous opinions lately sprung in Germany_;and by them some have been seduced in simplicity and ignorance. Againstthese, if judgment has been exercised according to the laws of the church, and conformably to the laws of this realm, we be without blame. If we havebeen too remiss and slack, we shall gladly do our duty from henceforth. Ifany man hath been, under pretence of this [crime], particularly offended, it were pity to suffer any man to be wronged; and thus it ought to be, andotherwise we cannot answer, no man's special case being declared in thesaid petition. 

"Item where they say further that they so appearing ex officio, becondemned to answer to many subtle questions by the which a simple, unlearned, or else a well-witted layman without learning sometimes is, andcommonly may be trapped and induced into peril of open penance to theirshame, or else [forced] to redeem their penance for money, as is commonlyused; to this we answer that we should not use subtlety, for we should doall things plainly and openly; and if we do otherwise, we do amiss. Weought not to ask questions, but after the capacities of the man. Christhath defended his true doctrine and faith in his Catholic church from allsubtlety, and so preserved good men in the same, as they have not (blessedbe God) been vexed, inquieted, or troubled in Christ's church. Thereuponevil men fall in danger by their own subtlety; we protest afore God we haveneither known, read, nor heard of any one man damaged or prejudiced byspiritual jurisdiction in this behalf, neither in this realm nor any other, but only by his own deserts. Such is the goodness of God in maintaining thecause of his Catholic faith. 

"Item where they say they be compelled to do open penance, or else redeemthe same for money; as for penance, we answer it consisteth in the arbitreof a judge who ought to enjoin such penance as might profit for correctionof the fault. Whereupon we disallow that judge's doing who taketh money forpenance for lucre or advantage, not regarding the reformation of sin as heought to do. But when open penance may sometimes work in certain personsmore hurt than good, it is commendable and allowable in that case to punishby the purse, and preserve the fame of the party; foreseeing always themoney be converted _in usus pios et eleemosynam_, and thus we think of thething, and that the offenders should be punished. 

"Item where they complain that two witnesses be admitted, be they never sodefamed, of little truth or credence, adversaries or enemies to theparties; yet in many cases they be allowed by the discretion of theordinaries to put the party defamed, ex officio, to open penance, and thento redemption for money; so that every of your subjects, upon the only willof the ordinaries or their substitutes, without any accuser, proved fame, or presentment, is or may be infamed, vexed, and troubled, to the peril oftheir lives, their shames, costs, and expenses:

"To this we reply, _the Gospel of Christ teacheth us to believe twowitnesses; and as the cause is, so the judge must esteem the quality of thewitness; and in heresy no exception is necessary to be considered if theirtale be likely; which hath been highly provided lest heretics withoutjeopardy might else plant their_ _heresies in lewd and light persons, andtaking exception to the witnesses, take boldness to continue their folly. This is the universal law of Christendom, and hath universally done good. Of any injury done to any man thereby we know not_. 

"Item where they say it is not intended by them to take away from us ourauthority to correct and punish sins, and especially the detestable crimeof heresy:

"To this we answer, in the prosecuting heretics we regard our duty andoffice whereunto we be called, and if God will discharge us thereof, orcease that plague universal, as, by directing the hearts of princes, andspecially the heart of your Highness (laud and thanks be unto Him), Hisgoodness doth commence and begin to do, we should and shall have greatcause to rejoice; as being our authority therein costly, dangerous, full oftrouble and business, without any fruit, pleasure, or commodity worldly, but a continued conflict and vexation with pertinacity, wilfulness, folly, and ignorance, whereupon followeth their bodily and ghostly destruction, toour great sorrow. 

"Item where they desire that by assent of your Highness (if the lawsheretofore made be not sufficient for the repression of heresy) moredreadful and terrible laws may be made; this We think is undoubtedly a morecharitable request than as we trust necessary, considering that by the aidof your Highness, and the pains of your Grace's statutes freely executed, your realm may be in short time clean purged from the few small dregs thatdo remain, if any do remain. 

"Item where they desire some reasonable declaration may be made to yourpeople, how they may, if they will, avoid the peril of heresy. No betterdeclaration, we say, can be made than is already by our Saviour Christ, theApostles, and the determination of the church, which if they keep, theyshall not fail to eschew heresy. 

"Item where they desire that some charitable fashion may be devised by yourwisdom for the calling of any of your subjects before us, that it shall notstand in the only will and pleasure of the ordinaries at their ownimagination, without lawful accusation by honest witness, according to yourlaw; to this we say that a better provision cannot be devised than isalready devised by the clergy in our opinion; and if any default appear inthe execution, it shall be amended on declaration of the particulars, andthe same proved. 

"Item where they say that your subjects be cited out of the diocese whichthey dwell in, and many times be suspended and excommunicate for lightcauses upon the only certificate devised by the proctors, and that all yoursubjects find themselves grieved with the excessive fees taken in thespiritual courts:

"To this article, for because it concerneth specially the spiritual courtsof me the Archbishop of Canterbury, please it your Grace to understand thatabout twelve months past I reformed certain things objected here; and nowwithin these ten weeks I reformed many other things in my said courts, as Isuppose is not unknown unto your Grace's Commons; and some of the fees ofthe officers of my courts I have brought down to halves, some to the thirdpart, and some wholly taken away and extincted; and yet it is objected tome as though I had taken no manner of reformation therein. Nevertheless Ishall not cease yet; but in such things as I shall see your Commons mostoffended I will set redress accordingly, so as, I trust, they will becontented in that behalf. And I, the said archbishop, beseech your Grace toconsider what service the doctors in civil law, which have had theirpractice in my courts, have done your Grace concerning treaties, truces, confederations, and leagues devised and concluded with outward princes; andthat without such learned men in civil law your Grace could not have beenso conveniently served as at all times you have been, which thing, perhaps, when such learned men shall fail, will appear more evident than it dothnow. The decay whereof grieveth me to foresee, not so greatly for any causeconcerning the pleasure or profit of myself, being a man spent, and at thepoint to depart this world, and having no penny of any advantage by my saidcourts, but principally for the good love which I bear to the honour ofyour Grace and of your realm. And albeit there is, by the assent of theLords Temporal and the Commons of your Parliament, an act passed thereuponalready, the matter depending before your Majesty by way of supplicationoffered to your Highness by your said Commons;[237] yet, forasmuch as weyour Grace's humble chaplains, the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, bebounden by oath to be intercessors for the rights of our churches; andforasmuch as the spiritual prelates of the clergy, being of your Grace'sparliament, consented to the said act for divers great causes moving theirconscience, we your Grace's said chaplains show unto your Highness that ithath appertained to the Archbishops of Canterbury and York for the space offour hundred years or thereabouts to have spiritual jurisdiction over allyour Grace's subjects dwelling within the provinces; and to have authorityto call before them, not only in spiritual causes devolved to them by wayof appeal, but also by way of querimony and complaint; which right andprivilege pertaineth not only to the persons of the said archbishops, butalso to the pre-eminences of their churches. Insomuch that when thearchbishop of either of the sees dieth, the said privileges do not onlyremain to his successor (by which he is named Legatus natus), but also inthe meantime of vacation the same privilege resteth in the churches ofCanterbury and York; and is executed by the prior, dean and chapter of thesaid churches; and so the said act is directly against the liberty andprivileges of the churches of Canterbury and York; and what dangers be tothem which study and labour to take away the liberties and privileges ofthe church, whoso will read the general councils of Christendom and thecanons of the fathers of the Catholic church ordained in that behalf, shallsoon perceive. And further, we think verily that our churches, to which thesaid privileges were granted, can give no cause why the pope himself (whosepredecessors granted that privilege) or any other (the honour of your Graceever except) may justly take away the same privileges so lawfullyprescribed from our churches, though we [ourselves] had greatly offended, abusing the said privileges. But when in our persons we trust we have givenno cause why to lose that privilege, we beseech your Grace of your goodnessand absolute power to set such orders in this behalf as we may enjoy ourprivileges lawfully admitted so long. 

"Item where they complain that there is exacted and demanded in diversparishes of this your realm, other manner of tythes than hath beenaccustomed to be paid this hundred years past; and in some parts of thisyour realm there is exacted double tythes, that is to say, threepence, ortwopence-halfpenny, for one acre, over and beside the tythe for theincrease of cattle that pastureth the same:

"To this we say, that tythes being due by God's law, be so duly paid(thanked be God), by all good men, as there needeth not exaction in themost parts of this your Grace's realm. As for double tythes, they cannot bemaintained due for one increase; whether in any place they be undulyexacted in fact we know not. This we know in learning, that neither ahundred years, nor seven hundred of non-payment, may debar the right ofGod's law. The manner of payment, and person unto whom to pay, may be intime altered, but the duty cannot by any means be taken away. 

"Item where they say that when a mortuary is due, curates sometimes, beforethey will demand it, will bring citation for it; and then will not receivethe mortuaries till they may have such costs as they say they have laid outfor the suit of the same; when, indeed, if they would first have charitablydemanded it, they needed not to have sued for the same, for it should havebeen paid with good will:

"We answer that curates thus offending, if they were known, ought to bepunished, but who thus doeth we know not. 

"Item where they say that divers spiritual persons being presented tobenefices within this your realm, we and our ministers do take of themgreat sums of money and reward; we reply that this is a particular abuse, and he that taketh reward doeth not well; and if any penny be exacted abovethe accustomed rate and after convenient proportion, it is not well done. But in taking the usual fee for the sealing, writing, and registering theletters, which is very moderate, we cannot think it to be reputed as anyoffence; neither have we heard any priests in our days complain of anyexcess therein. 

"And where they say in the same article that such as be presented bedelayed without reasonable cause, to the intent that we the ordinaries mayhave the profit of the benefice during the vacation, unless they will pactand convent with us by temporal bonds, whereof some bonds contain that weshould have part of the profit of the said benefice, which your saidsubjects suppose to be not only against right and conscience, but alsoseemeth to be simony, and contrary to the laws of God:

"To this we do say that a delay without reasonable cause, and for alucrative intent, is detestable in spiritual men, and the doers cannoteschew punishment: but otherwise a delay is sometimes expedient to examinethe clerk, and sometimes necessary when the title is in variance. All otherbargains and covenants being contrary to the law ought to be punished, asthe quality is of the offence more or less, as simony or inordinatecovetousness. 

"Item where they say that we give benefices to our nephews and kinsfolk, being in young age or infants, whereby the cure is not substantially lookedinto, nor the parishioners taught as they should be; we reply to this thatthe thing which is not lawful in others is in spiritual men moredetestable. Benefices should be disposed of not _secundum carnem etsanguinem, sed secundum merita_. And when there is a default it is notauthorised by the clergy as good, but reproved; whereupon in this theclergy is not to be blamed, but the default as it may appear must be laidto particular men. 

"And where they say that we take the profit of such benefices for the timeof the minority of our said kinsfolk, if it be done to our own use andprofit it is not well; _if it be bestowed to the bringing up and use of thesame parties_, or applied to the maintenance of the church and God'sservice, or distributed among the poor, we do not see but that it may beallowed. 

"Item where they say that divers and many spiritual persons, not contentedwith the convenient livings and promotions of the church, daily intromitand exercise themselves in secular offices and rooms, as stewards, receivers, auditors, bailiffs, and other temporal occupations, withdrawingthemselves from the good contemplative lives that they have professed, notonly to the damage but also to the perilous example of your loving andobedient subjects; to this we your bedesmen answer that beneficed men maylawfully be stewards and receivers to their own bishops, as it evidentlyappeareth in the laws of the church; and we by the same laws ought to haveno other. And as for priests to be auditors and bailiffs, we know nonesuch. 

"And where, finally, they, in the conclusion of their supplication, dorepeat and say that forasmuch as there is at this present time, and by afew years past hath been much misdemeanour and violence upon the one part, and much default and lack of patience, charity, and good will on the otherpart; and marvellous discord in consequence of the quiet, peace, andtranquillity in which this your realm hath been ever hitherto preservedthrough your politic wisdom:

"To the first part as touching such discord as is reported, and also themisdemeanour which is imputed to us and our doings, we trust we havesufficiently answered the same, humbly beseeching your Grace so to esteemand weigh such answer with their supplication as shall be thought good andexpedient by your high wisdom. Furthermore we ascertain your Grace astouching the violence which they seem to lay to our charge, albeit diversof the clergy of this your realm have sundry times been _rigorouslyhandled, and with much violence entreated by certain ill-disposed andseditious persons of the lay fee, have been injured in their bodies, throwndown in the kennel in the open_ _streets at mid-day_, even here within yourcity and elsewhere, to the great rebuke and disquietness of the clergy ofyour realm, the great danger of the souls of the said misdoers, andperilous example of your subjects. Yet we think verily, and do affirm thesame, that no violence hath been so used on our behalf towards your saidlay subjects in any case; unless they esteem this to be violence that we douse as well for the health of their souls as for the discharge of ourduties in taking, examining, and punishing heretics according to the law:wherein we doubt not but that your Grace, and divers of your Grace'ssubjects, do understand well what charitable entreaty we have used withsuch as have been before us for the same cause of heresy; and what means wehave devised and studied for safeguard specially of their souls; and thatcharitably, as God be our judge, and without violence as [far as] we couldpossibly devise. In execution thereof, and also of the laws of the churchfor repression of sin, and also for reformation of mislivers, it hath beento our great comfort that your Grace hath herein of your goodness, assistedand aided us in this behalf for the zeal and love which your Grace bearethto God's church and to His ministers; especially in defence of His faithwhereof your Grace only and most worthily amongst all Christian princesbeareth the title and name. And for that marvellous discord and grudgeamong your subjects as is reported in the supplication of your Commons, webeseech your Majesty, all the premises considered, to repress those that bemisdoers; protesting in our behalf that we ourselves have no grudge nordispleasure towards your lay subjects our ghostly children. We intreat yourGrace of your accustomed goodness to us your bedemen to continue our chiefprotector, defender, and aider in and for the execution of our office andduty; specially touching repression of heresy, reformation of sin, and duebehaviour and order of all your Grace's subjects, spiritual and temporal;which (no doubt thereof) shall be much to the pleasure of God, greatcomfort to men's souls, quietness and unity of all your realm; and, as wethink, most principally to the great comfort of your Grace's Majesty. Whichwe beseech lowly upon our knees, so entirely as we can, to be the author ofunity, charity, and concord as above, for whose preservation we do andshall continually pray to Almighty God long to reign and prosper in mosthonourable estate to his pleasure. "

This was the bishops' defence; the best which, under the circumstances, they considered themselves capable of making. The House of Commons hadstated their complaints in the form of special notorious facts; the bishopsreplied with urging the theory of their position, and supposed that theycould relieve the ecclesiastical system from the faults of its ministers, by laying the sole blame on the unworthiness of individual persons. Thedegenerate representatives of a once noble institution could not perhaps beexpected to admit their degeneracy, and confess themselves, as they reallywere, collectively incompetent; yet the defence which they brought forwardwould have been valid only so long as the blemishes were the rareexceptions in the working of an institution which was still generallybeneficent. It was no defence at all when the faults had become the rule, and when there was no security in the system itself for the selection ofworth and capacity to exercise its functions. The clergy, as I have alreadysaid, claimed the privileges of saints, while their conduct fell below thestandard of that of ordinary men; and the position taken in this answer wastenable only on the hypothesis which it, in fact, deliberately asserted, that the judicial authority of the church had been committed to it by GodHimself; and that no misconduct of its ministers in detail could forfeittheir claims or justify resistance to them. 

There is something touching in the bishops' evidently sincereunconsciousness that there could be real room for blame. Warham, who hadbeen Archbishop of Canterbury thirty years, took credit to himself for thereforms which, under the pressure of public opinion, he had introduced, inthe last few weeks or months; and did not know that in doing so he hadpassed sentence on a life of neglect. In the opinion of the entire bench noinfamy, however notorious, could shake the testimony of a witness in a caseof heresy; no cruelty was unjust when there was suspicion of so horrible acrime; while the appointment of minors to church benefices (not to pressmore closely the edge of the accusation) they admitted while they affectedto deny it; since they were not ashamed to defend the appropriation of theproceeds of benefices occupied by such persons, if laid out on theeducation and maintenance of the minors themselves. 

Yet these things were as nothing in comparison with the powers claimed forconvocation; and the prelates of the later years of Henry's reign must havelooked back with strange sensations at the language which theirpredecessors had so simply addressed to him. If the canons whichconvocation might think good to enact were not consistent with the laws ofthe Realm, "His Majesty" was desired to produce the wished-for uniformityby altering the laws of the Realm; and although the bishops might notsubmit their laws to His Majesty's approval, they would be happy, they toldhim, to consider such suggestions as he might think proper to make. Thespirit of the Plantagenets must have slumbered long before such words asthese could have been addressed to an English sovereign, and little did thebishops dream that these light words were the spell which would burst thecharm, and bid that spirit wake again in all its power and terror. 

The House of Commons in the mean time had not been idle. To them thequestions at issue were unincumbered with theoretic difficulties. Enormousabuses had been long ripe for dissolution, and there was no occasion towaste time in unnecessary debates. At such a time, with a House practicallyunanimous, business could be rapidly transacted, the more rapidly indeed inproportion to its importance. In six weeks, for so long only the sessionlasted, the astonished church authorities saw bill after bill hurried upbefore the Lords, by which successively the pleasant fountains of theirincomes would be dried up to flow no longer; or would flow only in shallowrivulets along the beds of the once abundant torrents, The jurisdiction ofthe spiritual courts was not immediately curtailed, and the authority whichwas in future to be permitted to convocation lay over for furtherconsideration, to be dealt with in another manner. But probate duties andlegacy duties, hitherto assessed at discretion, were dwarfed into fixedproportions, [238] not to touch the poorer laity any more, and bearing evenupon wealth with a reserved and gentle hand. Mortuaries were shorn of theirluxuriance; when effects were small, no mortuary should be required; whenlarge, the clergy should content themselves with a modest share. No velvetcloaks should be stripped any more from strangers' bodies to save them froma rector's grasp;[239] no shameful battles with apparitors should disturbany more the recent rest of the dead. [240] Such sums as the law wouldpermit should be paid thenceforward in the form of decent funeral fees forhouseholders dying in their own parishes, and there the exactions shouldterminate. [241]

The carelessness of the bishops in the discharge of their most immediateduties obliged the legislature to trespass also in the provinces purelyspiritual, and undertake the discipline of the clergy. The Commons hadcomplained in their petition that the clergy, instead of attending to theirduties, were acting as auditors, bailiffs, stewards, or in othercapacities, as laymen; they were engaged in trade also, in farming, intanning, in brewing, in doing anything but the duties which they were paidfor doing; while they purchased dispensations for non-residence on theirbenefices; and of these benefices, in favoured cases, single priests heldas many as eight or nine. It was thought unnecessary to wait for thebishops' pleasure to apply a remedy here. If the clergy were unjustlyaccused of these offences, a law of general prohibition would not touchthem. If the belief of the House of Commons was well founded, there was nooccasion for longer delay. It was therefore enacted[242]--"for the morequiet and virtuous increase and maintenance of divine service, thepreaching and teaching the Word of God with godly and good example, for thebetter discharge of cures, the maintenance of hospitality, the relief ofpoor people, the increase of devotion and good opinion of the lay feetowards spiritual persons"--that no such persons thenceforward should takeany land to farm beyond what was necessary, _bonâ fide_, for the support oftheir own households; that they should not buy merchandise to sell again;that they should keep no tanneries or brewhouses, or otherwise directly orindirectly trade for gain. Pluralities were not to be permitted withbenefices above the yearly value of eight pounds, and residence was madeobligatory under penalty in cases of absence without special reason, of tenpounds for each month of such absence. The law against pluralities waslimited as against existing holders, each of whom, for their natural lives, might continue to hold as many as four benefices. But dispensations, eitherfor non-residence or for the violation of any other provision of the act, were made penal in a high degree, whether obtained from the bishops or fromthe court of Rome. 

These bills struck hard and struck home. Yet even persons who mostdisapprove of the Reformation will not at the present time either wonder attheir enactment or complain of their severity. They will be desirous ratherto disentangle their doctrine from suspicious connection, and will not beanxious to compromise their theology by the defence of unworthy professorsof it. 

The bishops, however, could ill tolerate an interference with theprivileges of the ecclesiastical order. The Commons, it was exclaimed, wereheretics and schismatics;[243] the cry was heard everywhere, of Lack offaith, Lack of faith; and the lay peers being constitutionallyconservative, and perhaps instinctively apprehensive of the infectioustendencies of innovation, it seemed likely for a time that an effectiveopposition might be raised in the Upper House. The clergy commanded anactual majority in that House from their own body, which they might employif they dared; and although they were not likely to venture alone on sobold a measure, yet a partial support from the other members was asufficient encouragement. The aged Bishop of Rochester was made thespokesman of the ecclesiastics on this occasion. "My Lords, " he said, "yousee daily what bills come hither from the Commons House, and all is to thedestruction of the church. For God's sake see what a realm the kingdom ofBohemia was; and when the church went down, then fell the glory of thatkingdom. Now with the Commons is nothing but Down with the church, and allthis meseemeth is for lack of faith only. "[244] "In result, " says Hall, "the acts were sore debated; the Lords Spiritual would in no wise consent, and committees of the two Houses sate continually for discussion. " Thespiritualty defended themselves by prescription and usage, to which aGray's Inn lawyer something insolently answered, on one occasion, "theusage hath ever been of thieves to rob on Shooter's Hill, _ergo_, it islawful. " "With this answer, " continues Hall, "the spiritual men were soreoffended because their doings were called robberies, but the temporal menstood by their sayings, insomuch that the said gentlemen declared to theArchbishop of Canterbury, that both the exaction of probates of testamentsand the taking of mortuaries were open robbery and thefts. "

At length, people out of doors growing impatient, and dangerous symptomsthreatening to show themselves, the king summoned a meeting in theStar-chamber between eight members of both Houses. The lay peers, aftersome discussion, conclusively gave way; and the bishops, left withoutsupport, were obliged to yield. They signified their unwilling consent, andthe bills, "somewhat qualified, " were the next day agreed to--"to the greatrejoicing of the lay people, and the great displeasure of the spiritualpersons. "[245]

Nor were the House of Commons contented with the substance of victory. Thereply to their petition had perhaps by that time been made known to them, and at any rate they had been accused of sympathy with heresy, and theywould not submit to the hateful charge without exacting revenge. The moreclamorous of the clergy out of doors were punished probably by the stocks;from among their opponents in the Upper House, Fisher was selected forspecial and signal humiliation. The words of which he had made use weretruer than the Commons knew; perhaps the latent truth of them was thesecret cause of the pain which they inflicted; but the special anxiety ofthe English reformers was to disconnect themselves, with marked emphasis, from the movement in Germany, and they determined to compel the offendingbishop to withdraw his words. 

They sent the speaker, Sir Thomas Audeley, to the king, who "veryeloquently declared what dishonour it was to his Majesty and the realm, that they which were elected for the wisest men in the shires, cities, andboroughs within the realm of England, should be declared in so noble apresence to lack faith. " It was equivalent to saying "that they wereinfidels, and no Christians--as ill as Turks and Saracens. " Wherefore he"most humbly besought the King's Highness to call the said bishop beforehim, and to cause him to speak more discreetly of such a number as was inthe Commons House. "[246] Henry consented to their request, it is likelywith no great difficulty, and availed himself of the opportunity to read alesson much needed to the remainder of the bench. He sent for Fisher, andwith him for the Archbishop of Canterbury, and for six other bishops. Thespeaker's message was laid before them, and they were asked what they hadto say. It would have been well for the weak trembling old men if theycould have repeated what they believed and had maintained their right tobelieve it. Bold conduct is ever the most safe; it is fatal only when thereis courage but for the first step, and fails when a second is required tosupport it. But they were forsaken in their hour of calamity, not bycourage only, but by prudence, by judgment, by conscience itself. TheBishop of Rochester stooped to an equivocation too transparent to deceiveany one; he said that "he meant only the doings of the Bohemians were forlack of faith, and not the doings of the Commons House"--"which saying wasconfirmed by the bishops present. " The king allowed the excuse, and thebishops were dismissed; but they were dismissed into ignominy, andthenceforward, in all Henry's dealings with them, they were treated withcontemptuous disrespect. For Fisher himself we must feel only sorrow. Afterseventy-six years of a useful and honourable life, which he might havehoped to close in a quiet haven, he was launched suddenly upon stormywaters, to which he was too brave to yield, which he was too timid tocontend against; and the frail vessel drifting where the waves drove it, was soon piteously to perish. 

Thus triumphant on every side, the parliament, in the middle of December, closed its session, and lay England celebrated its exploits as a nationalvictory. "The king removed to Greenwich, and there kept his Christmas withthe queen with great triumph, with great plenty of viands, and disguisings, and interludes, to the great rejoicing of his people;"[247] the members ofthe House of Commons, we may well believe, following the royal example intown and country, and being the little heroes of the day. Only the bishopscarried home sad hearts within them, to mourn over the perils of the churchand the impending end of all things; Fisher, unhappily for himself, tolisten to the wailings of the Nun of Kent, and to totter slowly intotreason. 

Here, for the present leaving the clergy to meditate on their future, andreconsider the wisdom of their answer to the king respecting theecclesiastical jurisdiction (a point on which they were not the lesscertain to be pressed, because the process upon it was temporarilysuspended), we must turn to the more painful matter which, for a timelonger, ran parallel with the domestic reformation, and as yet was unableto unite with it. After the departure of Campeggio, the further hearing ofthe divorce cause had been advoked to Rome, where it was impossible forHenry to consent to plead; while the appearance of the supposed brief hadopened avenues of new difficulty which left no hope of a decision withinthe limits of an ordinary lifetime. Henry was still, however, extremelyreluctant[248] to proceed to extremities, and appeal to the parliament. Hehad threatened that he would tolerate no delay, and Wolsey had evidentlyexpected that he would not. Queen Catherine's alarm had gone so far, thatin the autumn she had procured an injunction from the pope, which had beenposted in the churches of Flanders, menacing the king with spiritualcensures if he took any further steps. [249] Even this she feared that hewould disregard, and in March, 1529-30, a second inhibition was issued ather request, couched in still stronger language. [250] But these measureswere needless, or at least premature. Henry expected that the display oftemper in the country in the late session would produce an effect both onthe pope and on the emperor; and proposing to send an embassy toremonstrate jointly with them on the occasion of the emperor's coronation, which was to take place in the spring at Bologna, he had recourse in themean time to an expedient which, though blemished in the execution, wasitself reasonable and prudent. 

Among the many _technical_ questions which had been raised upon thedivorce, the most serious was on the validity of the original dispensation;a question not only on the sufficiency of the form the defects of which thebrief had been invented to remedy; but on the more comprehensiveuncertainty whether Pope Julius had not exceeded his powers altogether ingranting a dispensation where there was so close affinity. No one supposedthat the pope could permit a brother to marry a sister; a dispensationgranted in such a case would be _ipso facto_ void. --Was not thedispensation similarly void which permitted the marriage of a brother'swidow? The advantage which Henry expected from raising this difficulty wasthe transfer of judgment from the partial tribunal of Clement to a broadercourt. The pope could not, of course, adjudicate on the extent of his ownpowers; especially as he always declared himself to be ignorant of the law;and the decision of so general a question rested either with a generalcouncil, or must be determined by the consent of Christendom, obtained insome other manner. If such general consent declared against the pope, thecause was virtually terminated. If there was some approach to a consentagainst him, or even if there was general uncertainty, Henry had a legalpretext for declining his jurisdiction, and appealing to a council. 

Thomas Cranmer, then a doctor of divinity at Cambridge, [251] is said tohave been the person who suggested this ingenious expedient, and to haveadvised the king, as the simplest means of carrying it out, to consult indetail the universities and learned men throughout Europe. His notoriousactivity in collecting the opinions may have easily connected him with theorigination of the plan, which probably occurred to many other persons aswell as to him; but whoever was the first adviser, it was immediately actedupon, and English agents were despatched into Germany, Italy, and France, carrying with them all means of persuasion, intellectual, moral, andmaterial, which promised to be of most cogent potency with lawyers'convictions. 

This matter was in full activity when the Earl of Wiltshire, Anne Boleyn'sfather, with Cranmer, the Bishop of London, and Edward Lee, afterwardsArchbishop of York, was despatched to Bologna to lay Henry's remonstrancesbefore the emperor, who was come at last in person to enjoy his miserabletriumph, and receive from the pope the imperial crown. Sir Nicholas Carew, who had been sent forward a few weeks previously, described in piteouslanguage the state to which Italy had been reduced by him. Passing throughPavia, the English emissary saw the children crying about the streets forbread, and dying of hunger; the grapes in midwinter rotting on the vines, because there was no one to gather them; and for fifty miles scarcely asingle creature, man or woman, in the fields. "They say, " added Carew, "andthe pope also showed us the same, that the whole people of that country, with divers other places in Italia, with war, famine, and pestilence, areutterly dead and gone. "[252] Such had been the combined work of the vanityof Francis and the cold selfishness of Charles; and now the latter hadarrived amidst the ruins which he had made, to receive his crown from thehands of a pope who was true to Italy, if false to all the world besides, and whom, but two years before, he had imprisoned and disgraced. We thinkof Clement as the creature of the emperor, and such substantially heallowed himself to be; but his obedience was the obedience of fear to amaster whom he hated, and the bishop of Tarbès, who was present at thecoronation, and stood at his side through the ceremony, saw him tremblingunder his robes with emotion, and heard him sigh bitterly. [253] Veryunwillingly, we may be assured, he was compelled to act his vacillatingpart to England, and England, at this distance of time, may forgive him forfaults to which she owes her freedom, and need not refuse him some tributeof sympathy in his sorrows. 

Fallen on evil times, which greater wisdom and greater courage than had formany a century been found in the successors of St. Peter would have failedto encounter successfully, Clement VII. Remained, with all his cowardice, atrue Italian; his errors were the errors of his age and nation, and weresoftened by the presence, in more than usual measure, of Italian genius andgrace. Benvenuto Cellini, who describes his character with much minuteness, has left us a picture of a hot-tempered, but genuine and kind-hearted man, whose taste was elegant, and whose wit, from the playful spirit with whichit was pervaded, and from a certain tendency to innocent levity, approachedto humour. He was liable to violent bursts of feeling; and his inability tocontrol himself, his gesticulations, his exclamations, and his tears, allrepresent to us a person who was an indifferent master of the tricks ofdissimulation to which he was reduced, and whose weakness entitles him topity, if not to respect. The papacy had fallen to him at the crisis of itsdeepest degradation. It existed as a politically organised institution, which it was convenient to maintain, but from which the private hearts ofall men had fallen away; and it depended for its very life upon the supportwhich the courts of Europe would condescend to extend to it. Among thesegovernments, therefore, distracted as they were by mutual hostility, thepope was compelled to make his choice; and the fatality of his positioncondemned him to quarrel with the only prince on whom, at the outset ofthese complications, he had a right to depend. 

In 1512, France had been on the point of declaring her religiousindependence; and as late as 1525, Francis entertained thoughts of offeringthe patriarchate to Wolsey. [254] Charles V. , postponing his religiousdevotion for the leisure of old age, had reserved the choice of his party, to watch events and to wait upon opportunity; while, from his singularposition, he wielded in one hand the power of Catholic Spain, in the otherthat of Protestant Germany, ready to strike with either, as occasion ornecessity recommended. If his Spaniards had annexed the New World to thepapacy, his German lanzknechts had stormed the Holy City, murderedcardinals, and outraged the pope's person: while both Charles and Francis, alike caring exclusively for their private interests, had allowed the Turksto overrun Hungary, to conquer Rhodes, and to collect an armament atConstantinople so formidable as to threaten Italy itself, and the veryChristian faith. Henry alone had shown hitherto a true feeling forreligion; Henry had made war with Louis XII. Solely in the pope's quarrel;Henry had broken an old alliance with the emperor to revenge the capture ofRome, and had won Francis back to his allegiance. To Henry, if to any one, the Roman bishop had a right to look with confidence. But the power ofEngland was far off, and could not reach to Rome. Francis had been baffledand defeated, his armies destroyed, his political influence in thePeninsula annihilated. The practical choice which remained to Clement layonly, as it seemed, between the emperor and martyrdom; and having, perhaps, a desire for the nobler alternative, yet being without the power to chooseit, his wishes and his conduct, his words to private persons and his openactions before the world, were in perpetual contradiction. He submittedwhile his heart revolted; and while at Charles's dictation he wasthreatening Henry with excommunication if he proceeded further with hisdivorce, he was able at that very time to say, in confidence, to the Bishopof Tarbès, that he would be well contented if the King of England wouldmarry on his own responsibility, availing himself of any means which hemight possess among his own people, so only that he himself was notcommitted to a consent or the privileges of the papacy were not trenchedupon. [255]

Two years later, when the course which the pope would really pursue undersuch circumstances was of smaller importance, Henry gave him an opportunityof proving the sincerity of this language; and the result was such as heexpected it to be. As yet, however, he had not relinquished the hope ofsucceeding by a more open course. 

In March, 1529-30, the English ambassadors appeared at Bologna. Theirinstructions were honest, manly, and straightforward. They were directed toexplain, _ab initio_, the grounds of the king's proceedings, and to appealto the emperor's understanding of the obligations of princes. Fullrestitution was to be offered of Catherine's dowry, and the Earl ofWiltshire was provided with letters of credit adequate to the amount. [256]If these proposals were not accepted, they were to assume a more peremptorytone, and threaten the alienation of England; and if menaces were equallyineffectual, they were to declare that Henry, having done all which laywithin his power to effect his purpose with the goodwill of his friends, since he could not do as he would, must now do as he could, and dischargehis conscience. If the emperor should pretend that he would "abide the law, and would defer to the pope, " they were to say, "that the sacking of Romeby the Spaniards and Germans had so discouraged the pope and cardinals, that they feared for body and goods, " and had ceased to be free agents; andconcluding finally that the king would fear God rather than man, and wouldrely on comfort from the Saviour against those who abused their authority, they were then to withdraw. [257] The tone of the directions was notsanguine, and the political complications of Europe, on which the emperor'sreply must more or less have depended, were too involved to allow us totrace the influences which were likely to have weighed with him. Thereseems no primâ facie reason, however, why the attempt might not have beensuccessful. The revolutionary intrigues in England had decisively failed, and the natural sympathy of princes, and a desire to detach Henry fromFrancis, must have combined to recommend a return of the old cordialitywhich had so long existed between the sovereigns of England and Flanders. But whatever was the cause, the opening interview assured the Earl ofWiltshire that he had nothing to look for. He was received with distantcourtesy; but Charles at once objected even to hearing his instructions, asan interested party. [258] The earl replied that he stood there, not as thefather of the queen's rival, but as the representative of his sovereign;but the objection declared the attitude which Charles was resolved tomaintain, and which, in fact, he maintained throughout. "The emperor, "wrote Lord Wiltshire to Henry, "is stiffly bent against your Grace'smatter, and is most earnest in it; while the pope is led by the emperor, and neither will nor dare displease him. "[259] From that quarter, so longas parties remained in their existing attitude, there was no hope. It seemsto have been hinted, indeed, that if war broke out again between Charlesand Francis, something might be done as the price of Henry's surrenderingthe French alliance;[260] but the suggestion, if it was made, was probablyironical; and as Charles was unquestionably acting against his interest inrejecting the English overtures, it is fair to give him credit for havingacted on this one occasion of his life, upon generous motives. A respectfulcompliment was paid to his conduct by Henry himself in the reproaches whichhe addressed to the pope. [261]

So terminated the first and the last overture on this subject which Henryattempted with Charles V. The ambassadors remained but a few days atBologna, and then discharged their commission and returned. The pope, however, had played his part with remarkable skill, and by finessingdexterously behind the scenes, had contrived to prevent the precipitationof a rupture with himself. His simple and single wish was to gain time, trusting to accident or Providence to deliver him from his dilemma. On theone hand, he yielded to the emperor in refusing to consent to Henry'sdemand; on the other, he availed himself of all the intricacies to parryCatherine's demand for a judgment in her favour. He even seemed to partwith the emperor on doubtful terms. "The latter, " said the Bishop ofTarbès, [262] "before leaving Bologna, desired his Holiness to place twocardinals' hats at his disposal, to enable him to reward certain services. "His Holiness ventured to refuse. During his imprisonment, he said he hadbeen compelled to nominate several persons for that office whose conducthad been a disgrace to their rank; and when the emperor denied his orders, the pope declared that he had seen them. The cardinals' hats, therefore, should be granted only when they were deserved, "when the Lutherans inGermany had been reduced to obedience, and Hungary had been recovered fromthe Turks. " If this was acting, it was skilfully managed, and it deceivedthe eyes of the French ambassador. 

Still further to gratify Henry, the pope made a public declaration withrespect to the dispute which had arisen on the extent of his authority, desiring, or professing to desire, that all persons whatever throughoutItaly should be free to express their opinions without fear of incurringhis displeasure. This declaration, had it been honestly meant, would havebeen creditable to Clement's courage: unfortunately for his reputation, hisoutward and his secret actions seldom corresponded, and the emperor'sagents were observed to use very dissimilar language in his name. Thedouble policy, nevertheless, was still followed to secure delay. Delay washis sole aim, --either that Catherine's death, or his own, or Henry's, orsome relenting in one or other of the two princes who held their minatoryarms extended over him, might spare himself and the church the calamity ofa decision. For to the church any decision was fatal. If he declared forCharles, England would fall from it; if for Henry, Germany and Flanderswere lost irrecoverably, and Spain itself might follow. His one hope was toprocrastinate; and in this policy of hesitation for two more years hesucceeded, till at length the patience of Henry and of England was wornout, and all was ended. When the emperor required sentence to be passed, hepretended to be about to yield; and at the last moment, some technicaldifficulty ever interfered to make a decision impossible. When Henry wascited to appear at Rome, a point of law was raised upon the privilege ofkings, threatening to open into other points of law, and so to multiply toinfinity. The pope, indeed, finding his own ends so well answered byevasion, imagined that it would answer equally those of the English nation, and he declared to Henry's secretary that "if the King of England wouldsend a mandate ad totam causam, then if his Highness would, there might begiven so many delays by reason of matters which his Highness might lay in, and the remissorials that his Grace might ask, ad partes, that peradventurein ten years or longer a sentence should not be given. "[263] In point ofworldly prudence, his conduct was unexceptionably wise; but somethingbeyond worldly prudence was demanded of a tribunal which claimed to beinspired by the Holy Ghost. 

The dreary details of the negotiations I have no intention of pursuing. They are of no interest to any one, --a miserable tissue of insincerity onone side, and hesitating uncertainty on the other. There is no occasion forus to weary ourselves with the ineffectual efforts to postpone an issuewhich was sooner or later inevitable. 

I may not pass over in similar silence another unpleasant episode in thisbusiness, --the execution of Cranmer's project for collecting the sentimentsof Europe on the pope's dispensing power. The details of this transactionare not wearying only, but scandalous; and while the substantial justice ofHenry's cause is a reason for deploring the means to which he allowedhimself to be driven in pursuing it, we may not permit ourselves either topalliate those means or to conceal them. The project seemed a simple one, and likely to be effective and useful. Unhappily, the appeal was still toecclesiastics, to a body of men who were characterised throughout Europe bya universal absence of integrity, who were incapable of pronouncing anhonest judgment, and who courted intimidation and bribery by the readinesswith which they submitted to be influenced by them. Corruption was resortedto on all sides with the most lavish unscrupulousness, and the resultarrived at was general discredit to all parties, and a conclusion whichadded but one more circle to the labyrinth of perplexities. Croke, [264] aDoctors' Commons lawyer, who was employed in Italy, described the state offeeling in the peninsula as generally in Henry's favour; and he said thathe could have secured an all but universal consent, except for the secretintrigues of the Spanish agents, and their open direct menaces, whenintrigue was insufficient. He complained bitterly of the treachery of theItalians who were in the English pay; the two Cassalis, Pallavicino, andGhinucci, the Bishop of Worcester. These men, he said, were betraying Henrywhen they were pretending to serve him, and were playing secretly into thehands of the emperor. [265] His private despatches were intercepted, or thecontents of them by some means were discovered; for the persons whom henamed as inclining against the papal claims, became marked at once forpersecution. One of them, a Carmelite friar, was summoned before theCardinal Governor of Bologna, and threatened with death;[266] and a certainFather Omnibow, a Venetian who had been in active co-operation with Dr. Croke, wrote himself to Henry, informing him in a very graphic manner ofthe treatment to which, by some treachery, he had been exposed. Croke andOmnibow were sitting one morning in the latter's cell, "when there enteredupon them the emperor's great ambassador, accompanied with many gentlemenof Spain, and demanded of the Father how he durst be so bold to take uponhim to intermeddle in so great and weighty a matter, the which did not onlylessen and enervate the pope's authority, but was noyful and odious to allRealms Christened. "[267] Omnibow being a man of some influence in Venice, the ambassador warned him on peril of his life to deal no further with suchthings: there was not the slightest chance that the King of England couldobtain a decision in his favour, because the question had been placed inthe hands of six cardinals who were all devoted to the emperor: the pope, it was sternly added, had been made aware of his conduct, and wasexceedingly displeased, and the general[268] of his order had at the sametime issued an injunction, warning all members to desist at their perilfrom intercourse with the English agents. The Spanish party held themselvesjustified in resorting to intimidation to defend themselves against Englishmoney; the English may have excused their use of money as a defence againstSpanish intimidation; and each probably had recourse to their severalmethods prior to experience of the proceedings of their adversaries, from acertain expectation of what those proceedings would be. Substantially, theopposite manoeuvres neutralised each other, and in Catholic countries, opinions on the real point at issue seem to have been equally balanced. TheLutheran divines, from their old suspicion of Henry, were more decided intheir opposition to him. "The Italian Protestants, " wrote Croke to theking, "be utterly against your Highness in this cause, and have letted asmuch as with their power and malice they could or might. "[269] In GermanyDr. Bames and Cranmer found the same experience. Luther himself had notforgotten his early passage at arms with the English Defender of the Faith, and was coldly hostile; the German theologians, although they expressedthemselves with reserve and caution, saw no reason to court the anger ofCharles by meddling in a quarrel in which they had no interest; theyrevenged the studied slight which had been passed by Henry on themselves, with a pardonable indifference to the English ecclesiastical revolt. 

If, however, in Germany and Italy the balance of unjust interference lay onthe imperial side, it was more than adequately compensated by the answeringpressure which was brought to bear in England and in France on the oppositeside. Under the allied sovereigns, the royal authority was openly exercisedto compel such expressions of sentiment as the courts of London and Parisdesired; and the measures which were taken oblige us more than ever toregret the inventive efforts of Cranmer's genius. For, in fact, thesemanoeuvres, even if honestly executed, were all unrealities. The questionat issue was one of domestic English politics, and the metamorphosis of itinto a question of ecclesiastical law was a mere delusion. The discussionwas transferred to a false ground, and however the king may have chosen todeceive himself, was not being tried upon its real merits. A complicateddifficulty vitally affecting the interests of a great nation, was laid forsolution before a body of persons incompetent to understand or decide it, and the laity, with the alternative before them of civil war, and thereturning miseries of the preceding century, could brook no judgment whichdid not answer to their wishes. 

The French king, contemptuously indifferent to justice, submitted to beguided by his interest; feeling it necessary for his safety to fan thequarrel between Henry and the emperor, he resolved to encourage whatevermeasures would make the breach between them irreparable. The reconciliationof Herod and Pontius Pilate[270] was the subject of his worst alarm; and aslight exercise of ecclesiastical tyranny was but a moderate price by whichto ensure himself against so dangerous a possibility. 

Accordingly, at the beginning of June, the University of Paris wasinstructed by royal letters to pronounce an opinion on the extent to whichthe pope might grant dispensations for marriage within the forbiddendegrees. The letters were presented by the grand master, and the latter inhis address to the faculty, maintained at the outset an appearance ofimpartiality. The doctors were required to decide according to theirconscience, having the fear of God before their eyes; and no open effortwas ventured to dictate the judgment which was to be delivered. 

The majority of the doctors understood their duty and their position, and aspeedy resolution was anticipated, when a certain Dr. Beda, an energeticUltramontane, commenced an opposition. He said that, on a question whichtouched the power of the pope, they were not at liberty to pronounce anopinion without the permission of his Holiness himself; and that thedeliberation ought not to go forward till they had applied for thatpermission and had received it. This view was supported by the Spanish andItalian party in the university. The debate grew warm, and at length themeeting broke up in confusion without coming to a resolution. Beda, whenremonstrated with on the course which he was pursuing, did not hesitate tosay that he had the secret approbation of his prince; that, however Francismight disguise from the world his real opinions, in his heart he onlydesired to see the pope victorious. An assertion so confident was readilybelieved, nor is it likely that Beda ventured to make it without somefoundation. But being spoken of openly it became a matter of generalconversation, and reaching the ears of the English ambassador, it was metwith instant and angry remonstrance. "The ambassador, " wrote the grandmaster to Francis, "has been to me in great displeasure, and has told meroundly that his master is trifled with by us. We give him words in plentyto keep his beak in the water; but it is very plain that we are playingfalse, and that no honesty is intended. Nor are his words altogetherwithout reason; for many persons declare openly that nothing will be done. If the alliance of England, therefore, appear of importance to yourHighness, it would be well for you to write to the Dean of the Faculty, directing him to close an impertinent discussion, and require an answer tothe question asked as quickly as possible. "[271] The tone of this letterproves, with sufficient clearness, the true feelings of the Frenchgovernment; but at the moment the alternative suggested by the grand mastermight not be ventured. Francis could not afford to quarrel with England, orto be on less than cordial terms with it, and for a time at least hisbrother sovereigns must continue to be at enmity. The negotiations for therecovery of the French princes out of their Spanish prison, were on thepoint of conclusion; and, as Francis was insolvent, Henry had consented tobecome security for the money demanded for their deliverance. Beda had, moreover, injured his cause by attacking the Gallican liberties; and asthis was a point on which the government was naturally sensitive, sometolerable excuse was furnished for the lesson which it was thought properto adminster to the offending doctor. 

On the seventeenth of June, 1530, therefore, Francis wrote as follows tothe President of the Parliament of Paris:--

"We have learnt, to our great displeasure, that one Beda, an imperialist, has dared to raise an agitation among the theologians, dissuading them fromgiving their voices on the cause of the King of England. --On receipt ofthis letter, therefore, you shall cause the said Beda to appear before you, and you shall show him the grievous anger which he has given us cause toentertain towards him. And further you shall declare to him, laying theseour present writings before his eyes that he may not doubt the truth ofwhat you say, that if he does not instantly repair the fault which he hascommitted, he shall be punished in such sort as that he shall rememberhenceforth what it is for a person of his quality to meddle in the affairsof princes. If he venture to remonstrate; if he allege that it is matter ofconscience, and that before proceeding to pronounce an opinion it isnecessary to communicate with the pope; in our name you shall forbid him tohold any such communication: and he and all who abet him, and all personswhatsoever, not only who shall themselves dare to consult the pope on thismatter, but who shall so much as entertain the proposal of consulting him, shall be dealt with in such a manner as shall be an example to all theworld. The liberties of the Gallican Church are touched, and theindependence of our theological council, and there is no privilegebelonging to this realm on which we are more peremptorily determined toinsist. "[272]

The haughty missive, a copy of which was sent to England, [273] produced thedesired effect. The doctors became obedient and convinced, and the requireddeclaration of opinion in Henry's favour, was drawn up in the most amplemanner. They made a last desperate effort to escape from the position inwhich they were placed when the seal of the university was to be affixed tothe decision; but the resistance was hopeless, the authorities wereinexorable, and they submitted. It is not a little singular that theEnglish political agent employed on this occasion, and to whose lot it fellto communicate the result to the king, was Reginald Pole. He it was, whobehind the scenes, and assisting to work the machinery of the intrigue, first there, perhaps, contracted his disgust with the cause on which he wasembarked. There learning to hate the ill with which he was forcedimmediately into contact, he lost sight of the greater ill to which it wasopposed; and in the recoil commenced the first steps of a career, whichbrought his mother to the scaffold, which overspread all England with anatmosphere of treason and suspicion, and which terminated at last afteryears of exile, rebellion, and falsehood, in a brief victory of blood andshame. So ever does wrong action beget its own retribution, punishingitself by itself, and wrecking the instruments by which it works. Theletter which Pole wrote from Paris to Henry will not be uninteresting. Itrevealed his distaste for his occupation, though prudence held him silentas to his deeper feelings. 

"Please it your Highness to be advertised, that the determination andconclusion of the divines in this university was achieved and finishedaccording to your desired purpose, upon Saturday last past. The sealing ofthe same has been put off unto this day, nor never could be obtained beforefor any soliciting on our parts which were your agents here, which neverceased to labour, all that lay in us, for the expedition of it, both withthe privy president and with all such as we thought might in any part aidus therein. But what difficulties and stops hath been, to let the obtainingof the seal of the university, notwithstanding the conclusion passed andagreed unto by the more part of the faculty, by reason of such oppositionsas the adversary part hath made to embezzle the determination that itshould not take effect nor go forth in that same form as it was concluded, it may please your Grace, to be advertised by this bearer, Master Fox; who, with his prudence, diligence, and great exercise in the cause, hath mostholp to resist all these crafts, and to bring the matter to that point asyour most desired purpose hath been to have it. He hath indeed actedaccording to that hope which I had of him at the beginning and firstbreaking of the matter amongst the faculty here, when I, somewhat fearingand foreseeing such contentions, altercations, and empeschements as by mostlikelihood might ensue, did give your Grace advertisement, how necessary Ithought it was to have Master Fox's presence. And whereas I was informed byMaster Fox how it standeth with your Grace's pleasure, considering myfervent desire thereon, that, your motion once achieved and brought to afinal conclusion in this university, I should repair to your presence, yourGrace could not grant me at this time a petition more comfortable unto me. And so, making what convenient speed I may, my trust is shortly to waitupon your Highness. Thus Jesu preserve your most noble Grace to hispleasure, and your most comfort and honour. Written at Paris, the seventhday of July, by your Grace's most humble and faithful servant, REGINALDPOLE. "[274]

We must speak of this transaction as it deserves, and call it wholly bad, unjust, and inexcusable. Yet we need not deceive ourselves into supposingthat the opposition which was crushed so roughly was based on any principalof real honesty. In Italy, intrigue was used against intimidation. InFrance intimidation was used against intrigue; and the absence of rectitudein the parties whom it was necessary to influence, provoked and justifiedthe contempt with which they were treated. 

The conduct of the English universities on the same occasion was preciselywhat their later characters would have led us respectively to expect fromthem. At Oxford the heads of houses and the senior doctors and masterssubmitted their consciences to state dictation, without opposition, and, asit seemed, without reluctance. Henry was wholly satisfied that the rightwas on his own side; he was so convinced of it, that an opposition to hiswishes among his own subjects, he could attribute only to disloyalty or tosome other unworthy feeling; and therefore, while he directed theconvocation, "giving no credence to sinister persuasions, to show anddeclare their just and true learning in his cause, " he was able to dwellupon the answer which he expected from them, as a plain matter of duty; andobviously as not admitting of any uncertainty whatever. 

"We will and command you, " he said, "that ye, not leaning to wilful andsinister opinions of your own several minds, considering that we be yoursovereign liege lord [and] totally giving your time, mind, and affectionsto the true overtures of divine learning in this behalf, do show anddeclare your true and just learning in the said cause, like as ye willabide by: wherein ye shall not only please Almighty God, but also us yourliege lord. And we, for your so doing, shall be to you and to ouruniversity there so good and gracious a lord for the same, as ye shallperceive it well done in your well fortune to come. And in case you do notuprightly, according to divine learning, handle yourselves herein, ye maybe assured that we, not without great cause, shall so quickly and sharplylook to your unnatural misdemeanour herein, that it shall not be to yourquietness and ease hereafter. "[275] The admonitory clauses weresufficiently clear; they were scarcely needed, however, by the oldermembers of the university. An enlarged experience of the world which years, at Oxford as well as elsewhere, had not failed to bring with them, a justapprehension of the condition of the kingdom, and a sense of theobligations of subjects in times of political difficulty, sufficed toreconcile the heads of the colleges to obedience; and threats were notrequired where it is unlikely that a thought of hesitation was entertained. But there was a class of residents which appears to be perennial in thatuniversity, composed out of the younger masters; a class of men who, defective alike in age, in wisdom, or in knowledge, were distinguished by aspecies of theoretic High Church fanaticism; who, until they received theirnatural correction from advancing years, required from time to time to beprotected against their own extravagance by some form of external pressure. These were the persons whom the king was addressing in his more severelanguage, and it was not without reason that he had recourse to it. 

In order to avoid difficulty, and to secure a swift and convenientresolution, it was proposed that both at Oxford and Cambridge theuniversities should be represented by a committee composed of the heads ofhouses, the proctors, and the graduates in divinity and law: that thiscommittee should agree upon a form of a reply; and that the university sealshould then be affixed without further discussion. This proposition wasplausible as well as prudent, for it might be supposed reasonably thatyoung half-educated students were incapable of forming a judgment on anintricate point of law; and to admit their votes was equivalent to allowingjudgment to be given by party feeling. The masters who were to be thusexcluded refused however to entertain this view of their incapacity. Thequestion whether the committee should be appointed was referred toconvocation, where, having the advantage of numbers, they coerced theentire proceedings; and some of them "expressing themselves in a veryforward manner" to the royal commissioners, [276] and the heads of housesbeing embarrassed, and not well knowing what to do, the king found itnecessary again to interpose. He was unwilling, as he said, to violate theconstitution of the university by open interference, "considering it toexist under grant and charter from the crown as a body politic, in theruling whereof in things to be done in the name of the whole, the number ofprivate suffrages doth prevail. " "He was loth, too, " he added, "to show hisdispleasure, whereof he had so great cause ministered unto him, unto thewhole in general, whereas the fault perchance consisted and remained inlight and wilful heads, " and he trusted that it might suffice if themasters of the colleges used their private influence and authority[277] inovercoming the opposition. For the effecting of this purpose, however, andin order to lend weight to their persuasion, he assisted the convocationtowards a conclusion with the following characteristic missive:--

"To our trusty and well-beloved the heads of houses, doctors, and proctorsof our University of Oxford:

"Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well; and of late being informed, toour no little marvel and discontentation, that a great part of the youth ofthat our university, with contentious and factious manner daily combiningtogether, neither regarding their duty to us their sovereign lord, nor yetconforming themselves to the opinions and orders of the virtuous, wise, sage, and profound learned men of that university, wilfully do stick uponthe opinion to have a great number of regents and non-regents to beassociate unto the doctors, proctors, and bachelors of divinity for thedetermination of our question; which we believe hath not been often seen, that such a number of right small learning in regard to the other should bejoined with so famous a sort, or in a manner stay their seniors in soweighty a cause. And forasmuch as this, we think, should be no smalldishonour to our university there, but most especially to you the seniorsand rulers of the same; and as also, we assure you, this their unnaturaland unkind demeanour is not only right much to our displeasure, but much tobe marvelled of, upon what ground and occasion, they being our meresubjects, should show themselves more unkind and wilful in this matter thanall other universities, both in this and all other regions do: we, trustingin the dexterity and wisdom of you and other the said discreet andsubstantial learned men of that university, be in perfect hope that ye willconduce and frame the said young persons unto order and conformity as itbecometh you to do. Whereof we be desirous to hear with incontinentdiligence; and doubt you not we shall regard the demeanour of every one ofthe university according to their merits and deserts. And if the youth ofthe university will play masteries as they begin to do, we doubt not butthey shall well perceive that non est bonum irritare crabrones. [278]

"Given under our hand and seal, at our Castle of Windsor, "HENRY R. "[279]

It is scarcely necessary to say, that, armed with this letter, the heads ofhouses subdued the recalcitrance of the overhasty "youth;" and Oxford dulyanswered as she was required to answer. 

The proceedings at Cambridge were not very dissimilar; but Cambridge beingdistinguished by greater openness and largeness of mind on this as on theother momentous subjects of the day than the sister university, was able topreserve a more manly bearing, and escape direct humiliation. Cranmer hadwritten a book upon the divorce in the preceding year, which, as comingfrom a well-known Cambridge man, had occasioned a careful ventilation ofthe question there; the resident masters had been divided by it intofactions nearly equal in number, though unharmoniously composed. The headsof houses, as at Oxford, were inclined to the king, but they wereembarrassed and divided by the presence on the same side of the suspectedliberals, the party of Shaxton, Latimer, and Cranmer himself. The agitationof many months had rendered all members of the university, young and old, so well acquainted (as they supposed) with the bearings of the difficulty, that they naturally resisted, as at the other university, the demand thattheir power should be delegated to a committee; and the Cambridgeconvocation, as well as that of Oxford, threw out this resolution when itwas first proposed to them. A king's letter having made them more amenable, a list of the intended committee was drawn out, which, containing Latimer'sname, occasioned a fresh storm. But the number in the senate house beingnearly divided, "the labour of certain friends" turned the scale; the votepassed, and the committee was allowed, on condition that the questionshould be argued publicly in the presence of the whole university. Finally, judgment was obtained on the king's side, though in a less absolute formthan he had required, and the commissioners did not think it prudent topress for a more extreme conclusion. They had been desired to pronouncethat the pope had no power to permit a man to marry his brother's widow. They consented only to say that a marriage within those degrees wascontrary to the divine law; but the question of the pope's power was leftunapproached. [280]

It will not be uninteresting to follow this judgment a further step, to thedelivery of it into the hands of the king, where it will introduce us to aSunday at Windsor Castle three centuries ago. We shall find present there, as a significant symptom of the time, Hugh Latimer, appointed freshlyselect preacher in the royal chapel, but already obnoxious to Englishorthodoxy, on account of his Cambridge sermons. These sermons, it had beensaid, contained many things good and profitable, "on sin, and godliness, and virtue, " but much also which was disrespectful to established beliefs, the preacher being clearly opposed to "candles and pilgrimages, " and"calling men unto the works that God commanded in his Holy Scripture, alldreams and unprofitable glosses set aside and utterly despised. " Thepreacher had, therefore, been cited before consistory courts andinterdicted by bishops, "swarms of friars and doctors flocking againstMaster Latimer on every side. "[281] This also was to be noted about him, that he was one of the most fearless men who ever lived. Like John Knox, whom he much resembled, in whatever presence he might be, whether of pooror rich, of laymen or priests, of bishops or kings, he ever spoke outboldly from his pulpit what he thought, directly if necessary to particularpersons whom he saw before him respecting their own actions. Even Henryhimself he did not spare where he saw occasion for blame; and Henry, ofwhom it was said that he never was mistaken in a _man_--loving a _man_[282]where he could find him with all his heart--had, notwithstanding, chosenthis Latimer as one of his own chaplains. 

The unwilling bearer of the Cambridge judgment was Dr. Buckmaster, thevice-chancellor, who, in a letter to a friend, describes his reception atthe royal castle. 

"To the right worshipful Dr. Edmonds, vicar of Alborne, in Wiltshire, myduty remembered, --

"I heartily commend me unto you, and I let you understand that yesterdayweek, being Sunday at afternoon, I came to Windsor, and also to part of Mr. Latimer's sermon; and after the end of the same I spake with Mr. Secretary[Cromwell], and also with Mr. Provost; and so after evensong I deliveredour letters in the Chamber of Presence, all the court beholding. The king, with Mr. Secretary, did there read them; and did then give me thanks andtalked with me a good while. He much lauded our wisdom and good conveyancein the matter, with the great quietness in the same. He showed me also whathe had in his hands for our university, according to that which Mr. Secretary did express unto us, and so he departed from me. But by and byehe greatly praised Mr. Latimer's sermon; and in so praising said on thiswise: 'This displeaseth greatly Mr. Vice-Chancellor yonder; yon same, ' saidhe to the Duke of Norfolk, 'is Mr. Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge, ' and sopointed unto me. Then he spake secretly unto the said duke, which, afterthe king's departure, came unto me and welcomed me, saying, among otherthings, the king would speak with me on the next day. And here is the firstact. On the next day I waited until it was dinner time; and so at the lastDr. Butts, [king's physician, ] came unto me, and brought a reward, twentynobles for me, and five marks for the junior proctor which was with me, saying that I should take that for a resolute answer, and that I mightdepart from the court when I would. Then came Mr. Provost, and when I hadshewed him of the answer, he said I should speak with the king after dinnerfor all that, and so he brought me into a privy place where after dinner hewould have me wait. I came thither and he both; and by one of the clock theking entered in. It was in a gallery. There were Mr. Secretary, Mr. Provost, Mr. Latimer, Mr. Proctor, and I, and no more. The king then talkedwith us until six of the clock. I assure you he was scarce contented withMr. Secretary and Mr. Provost, that this was not also determined, _an Papapossit dispensare_. I made the best, and confirmed the same that they hadshewed his Grace before; and how it would never have been so obtained. Heopened his mind, saying he would have it determined after Easter, and ofthe same was counselled awhile. 

"Much other communication we had, which were too long here to recite. Thenhis Highness departed, casting a little holy water of the court; and Ishortly after took my leave of Mr. Secretary and Mr. Provost, with whom Idid not drink, nor yet was bidden, and on the morrow departed from thence, thinking more than I did say, and being glad that I was out of the court, where many men, as I did both hear and perceive, did wonder at me. And hereshall be an end for this time of this fable. 

"All the world almost crieth out of Cambridge for this act, and speciallyon me; but I must bear it as well as I may. I have lost a benefice by it, which I should have had within these ten days; for there hath one fallen inMr. Throgmorton's[283] gift which he hath faithfully promised unto me manya time, but now his mind is turned and alienate from me. If ye go to courtafter Easter I pray you have me in remembrance. Mr. Latimer preachethstill, --quod æmuli ejus graviter ferunt. 

"Thus fare you well. Your own to his power, WILLIAM BUCKMASTER. [284]Cambridge, Monday after Easter, 1530. "

It does not appear that Cambridge was pressed further, and we may, therefore, allow it to have acquitted itself creditably, If we sum up theresults of Cranmer's measure as a whole, it may be said that opinions hadbeen given by about half Europe directly or indirectly unfavourable to thepapal claims; and that, therefore, the king had furnished himself with alegal pretext for declining the jurisdiction of the court of Rome, andappealing to a general council. Objections to the manner in which theopinions had been gained could be answered by recriminations equally just;and in the technical aspect of the question a step had certainly beengained. It will be thought, nevertheless, on wider grounds, that themeasure was a mistake; that it would have been far better if the legallabyrinth had never been entered, and if the divorce had been claimed onlyupon those considerations of policy for which it had been first demanded, and which formed the true justification of it. Not only might a shamefulchapter of scandal have been spared out of the world's history, but thepoint on which the battle was being fought lay beside the real issue. Europe was shaken with intrigue, hundreds of books were written, and tensof thousands of tongues were busy for twelve months weaving logicalsubtleties, and all for nothing. The truth was left unspoken because it wasnot convenient to speak it, and all parties agreed to persuade themselvesand accept one another's persuasions, that they meant something which theydid not mean. Beyond doubt the theological difficulty really affected theking. We cannot read his own book[285] upon it without a conviction thathis arguments were honestly urged, that his misgivings were real, and thathe meant every word which he said. Yet it is clear at the same time thatthese misgivings would not have been satisfied, if all the wisdom of theworld--pope, cardinals, councils, and all the learned facultiestogether--had declared against him, the true secret of the matter lyingdeeper, understood and appreciated by all the chief parties concerned, andby the English laity, whose interests were at stake; but in all thesebarren disputings ignored as if it had no existence. 

It was perhaps less easy than it seems to have followed the main road. Thebye ways often promise best at first entrance into them, and Henry'speculiar temper never allowed him to believe beforehand that a track whichhe had chosen could lead to any conclusion except that to which he hadarranged that it should lead. With an intellect endlessly fertile infinding reasons to justify what he desired, he could see no justice on anyside but his own, or understand that it was possible to disagree with himexcept from folly of ill-feeling. Starting always with a foregoneconclusion, he arrived of course where he wished to arrive. His "Glasse ofTruth" is a very picture of his mind. "If the marshall of the host bids usdo anything, " he said, "shall we do it if it be against the great captain?Again, if the great captain bid us do anything, and the king or the emperorcommandeth us to do another, dost thou doubt that we must obey thecommandment of the king or emperor, and contemn the commandment of thegreat captain? Therefore if the king or the emperor bid one thing, and Godanother, we must obey God, and contemn and not regard neither king noremperor. " And, therefore, he argued, "we are not to obey the pope, when thepope commands what is unlawful. "[286] These were but many words to provewhat the pope would not have questioned; and either they concluded nothingor the conclusion was assumed. 

We cannot but think that among the many misfortunes of Henry's life histheological training was the greatest; and that directly or indirectly itwas the parent of all the rest. If in this unhappy business he had trustedonly to his instincts as an English statesman; if he had been contentedhimself with the truth, and had pressed no arguments except those which inthe secrets of his heart had weight with him, he would have spared his ownmemory a mountain of undeserved reproach, and have spared historians theirweary labour through these barren deserts of unreality. 

CHAPTER IV

CHURCH AND STATE

The authorities of the church, after the lesson which they had receivedfrom the parliament in its first session, were now allowed a respite of twoyears, during which they might reconsider the complaints of the people, andconsult among themselves upon the conduct which they would pursue withrespect to those complaints. They availed themselves of their interval ofrepose in a manner little calculated to recover the esteem which they hadforfeited, or to induce the legislature further to stay their hand. Insteadof reforming their own faults, they spent the time in making use of theiryet uncurtailed powers of persecution; and they wreaked the bitterness oftheir resentment upon the unfortunate heretics, who paid with their bloodat the stake for the diminished revenues and blighted dignities of theirspiritual lords and superiors. During the later years of Wolsey'sadministration, the Protestants, though threatened and imprisoned, hadescaped the most cruel consequences of their faith. Wolsey had been awarm-hearted and genuine man, and although he had believed as earnestly ashis brother bishops, that Protestantism was a pernicious thing, destructivealike to the institutions of the country and to the souls of mankind, hismemory can be reproached with nothing worse than assiduous but humaneefforts for the repression of it. In the three years which followed hisdismissal, a far more bloody page was written in the history of thereformers; and under the combined auspices of Sir Thomas More's fanaticism, and the spleen of the angry clergy, the stake re-commenced its hatefulactivity. This portion of my subject requires a full and detailedtreatment; I reserve the account of it, therefore, for a separate chapter, and proceed for the present with the progress of the secular changes. 

Although, as I said, no further legislative measures were immediatelycontemplated against the clergy, yet they were not permitted to forget thealteration in their position which had followed upon Wolsey's fall; and asthey had shown in the unfortunate document which they had submitted to theking, so great a difficulty in comprehending the nature of that alteration, it was necessary clearly and distinctly to enforce it upon them. Until thatmoment they had virtually held the supreme power in the state. Thenobility, crippled by the wars of the Roses, had sunk into the secondplace; the Commons were disorganised, or incapable of a definite policy;and the chief offices of the government had fallen as a matter of course tothe only persons who for the moment were competent to hold them. Thejealousy of ecclesiastical encroachments, which had shown itself sobitterly under the Plantagenets, had been superseded from the accession ofHenry VII. By a policy of studied conciliation, and the position of Wolseyhad but symbolised the position of his order. But Wolsey was now gone, andthe ecclesiastics who had shared his greatness while they envied it, werecompelled to participate also in his change of fortune. 

This great minister, after the failure of a discreditable effort to fastenupon him a charge of high treason, --a charge which, vindictively pressedthrough the House of Lords, was wisely rejected by the Commons, --had beenprosecuted with greater justice for a breach of the law, in havingexercised the authority of papal legate within the realm of England. Hispolicy had broken down: he had united against him in a common exasperationall orders in the state, secular and spiritual; and the possibleconsequences of his adventurous transgression had fallen upon him. Theparliaments of Edward I. , Edward III. , Richard II. , and Henry IV. Had by aseries of statutes pronounced illegal all presentations by the pope to anyoffice or dignity in the Anglican church, under penalty of a premunire; theprovisions of these acts extending not only to the persons themselves whoaccepted office under such conditions, but comprehending equally whoeveracknowledged their authority, "their executors, procurators, fautors, maintainers, and receivers. "[287] The importance attached to these laws wasto be seen readily in the frequent re-enactment of them, with language ofincreasing vehemence; and although the primary object was to neutralise thesupposed right of the pope to present to English benefices, and althoughthe office of papal legate is not especially named in any one of theprohibitory clauses, yet so acute a canonist as Wolsey could not have beenignorant that it was comprehended under the general denunciation. The 5thof the 16th of Richard II. Was in fact explicitly universal in itslanguage, and dwelt especially on the importance of prohibiting theexercise of any species of jurisdiction which could encroach on the royalauthority. He had therefore consciously violated a law on his ownresponsibility, which he knew to exist, but which he perhaps trusted hadfallen into desuetude, and would not again be revived. It cannot be deniedthat in doing so, being at the time the highest law officer of the crown, he had committed a grave offence, and was justly liable to the fullpenalties of the broken statute. He had received the royal permission, butit was a plea which could not have availed him, and he did not attempt tourge it. [288] The contingency of a possible violation of the law by theking himself had been expressly foreseen and provided against in the actunder which he was prosecuted, [289] and being himself the king's legaladviser, it was his duty to have kept his sovereign[290] informed of thetrue nature of the statute. He had neglected this, his immediateobligation, in pursuit of the interests of the church, and when Henry'seyes were opened, he did not consider himself called upon to interfere toshield his minister from the penalties which he had incurred, nor is itlikely that in the face of the irritation of the country he could have doneso if he had desired. It was felt, indeed, that the long services ofWolsey, and his generally admirable administration, might fairly save him(especially under the circumstances of the case) from extremity ofpunishment; and if he had been allowed to remain unmolested in the affluentretirement which was at first conceded to him, his treatment would not havecaused the stain which we have now to lament on the conduct of theadministration which succeeded his fall. He indeed himself believed thatthe final attack upon him was due to no influence of rival statesmen, butto the hatred of Anne Boleyn; and perhaps he was not mistaken. This, however, is a matter which does not concern us here, and I need not pursueit. It is enough that he had violated the law of England, openly andknowingly, and on the revival of the national policy by which that law hadbeen enacted, he reaped the consequences in his own person. 

It will be a question whether we can equally approve of the enlargedapplication of the statute which immediately followed. The guilt of Wolseydid not rest with himself; it extended to all who had recognised him in hiscapacity of legate; to the archbishops and bishops, to the two Houses ofConvocation, to the Privy Council, to the Lords and Commons, and indirectlyto the nation itself. It was obvious that such a state of things was notcontemplated by the act under which he was tried, and where in point of lawall persons were equally guilty, in equity they were equally innocent; thecircumstances of the case, therefore, rendered necessary a general pardon, which was immediately drawn out. The government, however, while grantingabsolution to the nation, determined to make some exceptions in theirlenity; and harsh as their resolution appeared, it is not difficult toconjecture the reasons which induced them to form it. The higher clergy hadbeen encouraged by Wolsey's position to commit those excessive acts ofdespotism which had created so deep animosity among the people. Theoverthrow of the last ecclesiastical minister was an opportunity to teachthem that the privileges which they had abused were at an end; and as thelesson was so difficult for them to learn, the letter of the law which theyhad broken was put in force to quicken their perceptions. They were to bepunished indirectly for their other evil doings, and forced to surrendersome portion of the unnumbered exactions which they had extorted from thehelplessness of their flocks. 

In pursuance of this resolution, therefore, official notice was issued inDecember, 1530, that the clergy lay all under a premunire, and that thecrown intended to prosecute. Convocation was to meet in the middle ofJanuary, and this comforting fact was communicated to the bishops in orderto divert their attention to subjects which might profitably occupy theirdeliberations. The church legislature had sate in the preceding yearscontemporaneously with the sitting of parliament, at the time when theirprivileges were being discussed, and when their conduct had been so angrilychallenged: but these matters had not disturbed their placid equanimity:and while the bishops were composing their answer to the House of Commons, Convocation had been engaged in debating the most promising means ofpersecuting heretics and preventing the circulation of the Bible. [291] Thesession had continued into the spring of 1529-30, when the king had beenprevailed upon to grant an order in council prohibiting Tyndale'sTestament, in the preface of which the clergy were spoken ofdisrespectfully. [292] His consent had been obtained with great difficulty, on the representation of the bishops that the translation was faulty, andon their undertaking themselves to supply the place of it with a correctedversion. But in obtaining the order, they supposed themselves to havegained a victory; and their triumph was celebrated in St. Paul's churchyardwith an auto da fé, over which the Bishop of London consented to preside;when such New Testaments as the diligence of the apparitors could discover, were solemnly burned. 

From occupation such as this a not unwholesome distraction was furnished bythe intimation of the premunire; and that it might produce its due effect, it was accompanied with the further information that the clergy of theprovince of Canterbury would receive their pardon only upon payment of ahundred thousand pounds--a very considerable fine, amounting to more than amillion of our money. Eighteen thousand pounds was required simultaneouslyfrom the province of York; and the whole sum was to be paid in instalmentsspread over a period of five years. [293] The demand was serious, but theclergy had no alternative but to submit or to risk the chances of the law;and feeling that, with the people so unfavourably disposed towards them, they had no chance of a more equitable construction of their position, theyconsented with a tolerable grace, the Upper House of Convocation first, theLower following. Their debates upon the subject have not been preserved. Itwas probably difficult to persuade them that they were treated withanything but the most exquisite injustice; since Wolsey's legatinefaculties had been the object of their general dread; and if he hadremained in power, the religious orders would have been exposed to asearching visitation in virtue of these faculties, from which they couldhave promised themselves but little advantage. But their punishment, iftyrannical in form, was equitable in substance, and we can reconcileourselves without difficulty to an act of judicial confiscation. 

The money, however, was not the only concession which the threat of thepremunire gave opportunity to extort; and it is creditable to the clergythat the demand which they showed most desire to resist was not that whichmost touched their personal interests. In the preamble of the subsidy bill, under which they were to levy their ransom, they were required by thecouncil to designate the king by the famous title which gave occasion forsuch momentous consequences, of "Protector and only Supreme Head of theChurch and Clergy of England. "[294] It is not very easy to see what Henryproposed to himself by requiring this designation, at so early a stage inthe movement. The breach with the pope was still distant, and he wasprepared to make many sacrifices before he would even seriously contemplatea step which he so little desired. It may have been designed as a reply tothe papal censures: it may have been to give effect to his own menaces, which Clement to the last believed to be no more than words;[295] orperhaps (and this is the most likely) he desired by some emphatic act, tomake his clergy understand the relation in which thenceforward they were tobe placed towards the temporal authority. It is certain only that thistitle was not intended to imply what it implied when, four years later, itwas conferred by act Of parliament, and when virtually England was severedby it from the Roman communion. 

But whatever may have been the king's motive, he was serious in requiringthat the title should be granted to him. Only by acknowledging Henry asHead of the Church should the clergy receive their pardon, and the longerthey hesitated, the more peremptorily he insisted on their obedience. Theclergy had defied the lion, and the lion held them in his grasp; and theycould but struggle helplessly, supplicate and submit. Archbishop Warham, just drawing his life to a close, presided for the last time in themiserable scene, imagining that the clouds were gathering for the storms ofthe latter day, and that Antichrist was coming in his power. 

There had been a debate of three days, whether they should or should notconsent, when, on the 9th of February, a deputation of the judges appearedin Convocation, to ask whether the Houses were agreed, and to inform themfinally that the king had determined to allow no qualifications. The clergybegged for one more day, and the following morning the bishops held aprivate meeting among themselves, to discuss some plan to turn aside theblow. They desired to see Cromwell, to learn, perhaps, if there was achance of melting the hard heart of Henry; and after an interview with theminister which could not have been encouraging, they sent two of theirnumber, the Bishops of Exeter and Lincoln, to attempt the unpromising task. It was in vain; the miserable old men were obliged to return with theanswer that the king would not see them--they had seen only the judges, whohad assured them, in simple language, that the pardon was not to be settleduntil the supremacy was admitted. The answer was communicated to the House, and again "debated. " Submission was against the consciences of the unhappyclergy; to obey their consciences involved forfeiture of property; andnaturally in such a dilemma they found resolution difficult. They attemptedanother appeal, suggesting that eight of their number should hold aconference with the privy council, and "discover, if they might, somepossible expedient. " But Henry replied, as before, that he would have aclear answer, "_yes_, or _no_. " They might say "yes, " and their pardon wasready. They might say "no"--and accept the premunire and its penalties. Andnow, what should the clergy have done? No very great courage was requiredto answer, "This thing is wrong; it is against God's will, and therefore itmust not be, whether premunire come or do not come. " They might have saidit, and if they could have dared this little act of courage, victory was intheir hands. With the cause against them so doubtful, their very attitudewould have commanded back the sympathies of half the nation, and the king'sthreats would have exploded as an empty sound. But Henry knew the personswith whom he had to deal--forlorn shadows, decked in the trappings ofdignity--who only by some such rough method could be brought to a knowledgeof themselves. "Shrink to the clergy"--I find in a state paper of thetime--"Shrink to the clergy, and they be lions; lay their faults roundlyand charitably to them, and they be as sheep, and will lightly be reformed, for their consciences will not suffer them to resist. "[296]

They hesitated for another night. The day following, the archbishopsubmitted the clause containing the title to the Upper House, with a savingparagraph, which, as Burnet sententiously observes, the nature of thingsdid require to be supposed. [297] "Ecclesiæ et cleri Anglicani, " so it ran, "singularem protectorem, et unicum et supremum Dominum, et quantum perlegem Christi licet, etiam supremum caput ipsius Majestatem agnoscimus--Werecognise the King's Majesty to be our only sovereign lord, the singularprotector of the church and clergy of England, and as far as is allowed bythe law of Christ, also as our Supreme Head. " The words were read aloud bythe archbishop, and were received in silence. "Do you assent?" he asked. The House remained speechless. "Whoever is silent seems to consent, " thearchbishop said. A voice answered out of the crowd, "Then are we allsilent. " They separated for a few hours to collect themselves. In theafternoon sitting they discussed the sufficiency of the subterfuge; and atlength agreeing that it saved their consciences, the clause was finallypassed, the Bishop of Rochester, among the rest, giving his unwillingacquiescence. 

So for the present terminated this grave matter. The pardon was immediatelysubmitted to parliament, where it was embodied in a statute;[298] and thisact of dubious justice accomplished, the Convocation was allowed to returnto its usual occupations, and continue the prosecutions of the heretics. 

The House of Commons, during their second session, had confined themselvesmeanwhile to secular business. They had been concerned chiefly withregulations affecting trade and labour; and the proceedings on thepremunire being thought for the time to press sufficiently on the clergy, they deferred the further prosecution of their own complaints till thefollowing year. Two measures, however, highly characteristic of the age, must not be passed over, one of which concerned a matter that must haveadded heavily to the troubles of the Bishop of Rochester at a time when hewas in no need of any addition to his burdens. 

Fisher was the only one among the prelates for whom it is possible to feelrespect. He was weak, superstitious, pedantical; towards the Protestants hewas even cruel; but he was a singlehearted man, who lived in honest fear ofevil, so far as he understood what evil was; and he alone could rise abovethe menaces of worldly suffering, under which his brethren on the benchsank so rapidly into meekness and submission. We can therefore afford tocompassionate him in the unexpected calamity by which he was overtaken, andwhich must have tried his failing spirit in no common manner. 

He lived, while his duties required his presence in London, at a house inLambeth, and being a hospitable person, he opened his doors at the dinnerhour for the poor of the neighbourhood. Shortly after the matter which Ihave just related, many of these people who were dependent on his bountywere reported to have become alarmingly ill, and several gentlemen of thehousehold sickened also in the same sudden and startling manner. One ofthese gentlemen died, and a poor woman also died; and it was discovered oninquiry that the yeast which had been used in various dishes had beenpoisoned. The guilty person was the cook, a certain Richard Rouse; andinasmuch as all crimes might be presumed to have had motives, and themotive in the present instance was undiscoverable, it was conjectured byQueen Catherine's friends that he had been bribed by Anne Boleyn, or bysome one of her party, to remove out of the way the most influential of theEnglish opponents of the divorce. [299] The story was possibly withoutfoundation, although it is not unlikely that Fisher himself believed it. The shock of such an occurrence may well have unsettled his powers ofreasoning, and at all times he was a person whose better judgment waseasily harassed into incapacity. The origin of the crime, however, is ofless importance than the effect of the discovery upon the nation, in whomhorror of the action itself absorbed every other feeling. Murder of thiskind was new in England. Ready as the people ever were with sword orlance--incurably given as they were to fighting in the best orderedtimes--an Englishman was accustomed to face his enemy, man to man, in theopen day; and the Italian crime (as it was called) of poisoning had nottill recent years been heard of. [300] Even revenge and passion recognisedtheir own laws of honour and fair play; and the cowardly ferocity whichwould work its vengeance in the dark, and practise destruction by wholesaleto implicate one hated person in the catastrophe, was a new feature ofcriminality. Occurring in a time so excited, when all minds were on thestretch, and imaginations were feverish with fancies, it appeared like afrightful portent, some prodigy of nature, or enormous new birth ofwickedness, not to be received or passed by as a common incident, and notto be dealt with by the process of ordinary law. Parliament undertook theinvestigation, making it the occasion, when the evidence was completed, ofa special statute, so remarkable that I quote it in its detail and wording. The English were a stern people--a people knowing little of compassionwhere no lawful ground existed for it; but they were possessed of an awfuland solemn horror of evil things, --a feeling which, in proportion as itexists, inevitably and necessarily issues in tempers of iron. The stern manis ever the most tender when good remains amidst evil, and is stillcontending with it; but we purchase compassion for utter wickedness only bydoubting in our hearts whether wickedness is more than misfortune. 

"The King's royal Majesty, " says the 9th of the 22nd of Henry VIII. , "calling to his most blessed remembrance that the making of good andwholesome laws, and due execution of the same against the offendersthereof, is the only cause that good obedience and order hath beenpreserved in this realm; and his Highness having most tender zeal for thesame, considering that man's life above all things is chiefly to befavoured, and voluntary murders most highly to be detested and abhorred;and specially all kinds of murders by poisoning, which in this realmhitherto, our Lord be thanked, hath been most rare and seldom committed orpractised: and now, in the time of this present parliament, that is to say, on the eighteenth day of February, in the twenty-second year of his mostvictorious reign, one Richard Rouse, late of Rochester, in the county ofKent, cook, otherwise called Richard Cook, of his most wicked and damnabledisposition, did cast a certain venom or poison into a vessel replenishedwith yeast or barm, standing in the kitchen of the reverend father in God, John Bishop of Rochester, at his place in Lambeth Marsh; with which yeastor barm, and other things convenient, porridge or gruel was forthwith madefor his family there being; whereby not only the number of seventeenpersons of his said family, which did eat of that porridge, were mortallyinfected or poisoned, and one of them, that is to say, Bennet Curwan, gentleman, is thereof deceased; but also certain poor people which resortedto the said bishop's place, and were there charitably fed with the remainsof the said porridge and other victuals; were in like wise infected; andone poor woman of them, that is to say, Alice Tryppitt, widow, is alsothereof now deceased: Our said sovereign lord the king, of his blesseddisposition inwardly abhorring all such abominable offences, because thatin manner no person can live in surety out of danger of death by thatmeans, if practices thereof should not be eschewed, hath ordained andenacted by authority of this present parliament, that the said poisoning beadjudged and deemed as high treason; and that the said Richard, for thesaid murder and poisoning of the said two persons, shall stand and beattainted of high treason. 

"And because that detestable offence, now newly practised and committed, requireth condign punishment for the same, it is ordained and enacted byauthority of this present parliament that the said Richard Rouse shall betherefore boiled to death, without having any advantage of his clergy; andthat from henceforth every wilful murder of any person or persons hereafterto be committed or done by means or way of poisoning, shall be reputed, deemed, and judged in the law to be high treason; and that all and everyperson or persons which shall hereafter be indicted and condemned by orderof the law of such treason, shall not be admitted to the benefit of his ortheir clergy, but shall be immediately after such attainder orcondemnation, committed to execution of death by boiling for the same. "

The sentence was carried into effect[301] in Smithfield, "on the tenebraWednesday following, to the terrible example of all others. " The spectacleof a living human being boiled to death, was really witnessed three hundredyears ago by the London citizens, within the walls of that oldcattle-market; an example terrible indeed, the significance of which is noteasily to be exhausted. For the poisoners of the soul there was thestake, [302] for the poisoners of the body, the boiling cauldron, --the twomost fearful punishments for the most fearful of crimes. The stake at whichthe heretic suffered was an inherited institution descending through theusage of centuries; the poisoner's cauldron was the fresh expression of thejudgment of the English nation on a novel enormity; and I have calledattention to it because the temper which this act exhibits is the key toall which has seemed most dark and cruel in the rough years which followed;a temper which would keep no terms with evil, or with anything which, rightly or wrongly, was believed to be evil, but dreadfully and inexorablyhurried out the penalties of it. 

Following the statute against poisoning, there stands "an act for thebanishment out of the country of divers outlandish and vagabond peoplecalled Egyptians;"[303] and attached to it another of analogous import, "for the repression of beggars and vagabonds, " the number of whom, it wasalleged, was increasing greatly throughout the country, and much crime andother inconveniences were said to have been occasioned by them. We mayregard these two measures, if we please, as a result of the energetic andreforming spirit in the parliament, which was dragging into prominence allforms of existing disorders, and devising remedies for those disorders. Butthey indicate something more than this: they point to the growth of adisturbed and restless disposition, the interruption of industry, and othersymptoms of approaching social confusion; and at the same time they show usthe government conscious of the momentous nature of the struggle into whichit was launched; and with timely energy bracing up the sinews of the nationfor its approaching trial. The act against the gipsies especially, illustrates one of the most remarkable features of the times. The air wasimpregnated with superstition; in a half consciousness of the impendingchanges, all men were listening with wide ears to rumours and propheciesand fantastic fore-shadowings of the future; and fanaticism, half deceivingand half itself deceived, was grasping the lever of the popular excitementto work out its own ends. [304] The power which had ruled the hearts ofmankind for ten centuries was shaking suddenly to its foundation. TheInfallible guidance of the Church was failing; its light gone out, orpronounced to be but a mere deceitful ignis fatuus; and men foundthemselves wandering in darkness, unknowing where to turn or what to thinkor believe. It was easy to clamour against the spiritual courts. From mensmarting under the barefaced oppression of that iniquitous jurisdiction, the immediate outcry rose without ulterior thought; but unexpectedly thefrail edifice of the church itself threatened under the attack to crumbleinto ruins; and many gentle hearts began to tremble and recoil when theysaw what was likely to follow on their light beginnings. It was true thatthe measures as yet taken by the parliament and the crown professed to bedirected, not to the overthrow of the church, but to the re-establishmentof its strength. But the exulting triumph of the Protestants, the promotionof Latimer to a royal chaplaincy, the quarrel with the papacy, and a dimbut sure perception of the direction in which the stream was flowing, foretold to earnest Catholics a widely different issue; and the simplest ofthem knew better than the court knew, that they were drifting from the suremoorings of the faith into the broad ocean of uncertainty. There seems, indeed, to be in religious men, whatever be their creed, and howeverlimited their intellectual power, a prophetic faculty of insight into thetrue bearings of outward things, --an insight which puts to shame thesagacity of statesmen, and claims for the sons of God, and only for them, the wisdom even of the world. Those only read the world's future truly whohave faith in principle, as opposed to faith in human dexterity; who feelthat in human things there lies really and truly a spiritual nature, aspiritual connection, a spiritual tendency, which the wisdom of the serpentcannot alter, and scarcely can affect. 

Excitement, nevertheless, is no guarantee for the understanding; and theseinstincts, powerful as they are, may be found often in minds wild andchaotic, which, although they vaguely foresee the future, yet have no powerof sound judgment, and know not what they foresee, or how wisely toestimate it. Their wisdom, if we may so use the word, combines crudely withany form of superstition or fanaticism. Thus in England, at the time ofwhich we are speaking, Catholics and Protestants had alike their horoscopeof the impending changes, each nearer to the truth than the methodicalcalculations of the statesmen; yet their foresight did not affect theirconvictions, or alter the temper of their hearts. They foresaw the samecatastrophe, yet their faith still coloured the character of it. To the oneit was the advent of Antichrist, to the other the inauguration of themillennium. The truest hearted men on all sides were deserted by theirunderstandings at the moment when their understandings were the most deeplyneeded: and they saw the realities which were round them transfigured intophantoms through the mists of their hopes and fears. The present wassignificant only as it seemed in labour with some gigantic issue, and theevents of the outer world flew from lip to lip, taking as they passed everyshape most wild and fantastical. Until "the king's matter" was decided, there was no censorship upon speech, and all tongues ran freely on thegreat subjects of the day. Every parish pulpit rang with the divorce, orwith the perils of the Catholic faith; at every village ale-house, the talkwas of St. Peter's keys, the sacrament, or of the pope's supremacy, or ofthe points in which a priest differed from a layman. Ostlers quarrelledover such questions as they groomed their masters' horses; old womenmourned across the village shopboards of the evil days which were come orcoming; while every kind of strangest superstition, fairy stories and witchstories, stories of saints and stories of devils, were woven in and out andto and fro, like quaint, bewildering arabesques, in the tissue of thegeneral imagination. [305]

These were the forces which were working on the surface of the Englishmind; while underneath, availing themselves skilfully of the excitement, the agents of the disaffected among the clergy, or the friars mendicant, who to a man were devoted to the pope and to Queen Catherine, passed up anddown the country, denouncing the divorce, foretelling ruin, disaster, andthe wrath of God; and mingling with their prophecies more than dubiouslanguage on the near destruction or deposition of a prince who was opposingGod and Heaven. The soil was manured by treason, and the sowers made hasteto use their opportunity. Thus especially was there danger in thosewandering encampments of "outlandish people, " whose habits rendered themthe ready-made missionaries of sedition; whose swarthy features might hidea Spanish heart, and who in telling fortunes might readily dictatepolicy. [306] Under the disguise of gipsies, the emissaries of the emperoror the pope might pass unsuspected from the Land's End toBerwick-upon-Tweed, penetrating the secrets of families, tying the links ofthe Catholic organisation: and in the later years of the struggle, as theintrigues became more determined and a closer connection was establishedbetween the Continental powers and the disaffected English, it becamenecessary to increase the penalty against these irregular wanderers frombanishment to death. As yet, however, the milder punishment was heldsufficient, and even this was imperfectly enforced. [307] The tendencies totreason were still incipient--they were tendencies only, which had as yetshown themselves in no decisive acts; the future was uncertain, the actionof the government doubtful. The aim was rather to calm down the excitementof the people, and to extinguish with as little violence as possible themeans by which it was fed. 

Ominous symptoms of eccentric agitation, however, began to take shape inthe confusion, A preacher, calling himself the favourite of the VirginMary, had started up at Edinburgh, professing miraculous powers ofabstinence from food. This man was sent by James V. To Rome, where, afterhaving been examined by Clement, and having sufficiently proved hismission, he was furnished with a priest's habit and a certificate underleaden seal. [308] Thus equipped, he went a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, andloaded himself with palm-leaves and with stones from the pillar at whichChrist was scourged; and from thence making his way to England, he appearedat Paul's Cross an evident saint and apostle, cursing the king and hisdivorce, denouncing his apostacy, and threatening the anger of Heaven. Hewas arrested and thrown into prison, where he remained, as it was believed, fifty days without food, or fed in secret by the Virgin, At the close ofthe time the government thought it prudent to send him back to Scotland, without further punishment. [309]

Another more famous prophetess was then in the zenith of herreputation--the celebrated Nun of Kent--whose cell at Canterbury, for somethree years, was the Delphic shrine of the Catholic oracle, from which theorders of Heaven were communicated even to the pope himself. This singularwoman seems for a time to have held in her hand the balance of the fortunesof England. By the papal party she was universally believed to be inspired. Wolsey believed it, Warham believed it, the bishops believed it, QueenCatherine believed it, Sir Thomas More's philosophy was no protection tohim against the same delusion; and finally, she herself believed the world, when she found the world believed in her. Her story is a psychologicalcuriosity; and, interwoven as it was with the underplots of the time, wecannot observe it too accurately. 

In the year 1525, there lived in the parish of Aldington, in Kent, acertain Thomas Cobb, bailiff or steward to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who possessed an estate there. Among the servants of this Thomas Cobb was acountry girl called Elizabeth Barton--a decent person, so far as we canlearn, but of mere ordinary character, and until that year having shownnothing unusual in her temperament. She was then attacked, however, by someinternal disease; and after many months of suffering, she was reduced intothat abnormal and singular condition, in which she exhibited the phenomenaknown to modern wonder-seekers as those of somnambulism or clairvoyance. The scientific value of such phenomena is still undetermined, but that theyare not purely imaginary is generally agreed. In the histories of allcountries and of all times, we are familiar with accounts of young women ofbad health and irritable nerves, who have exhibited at recurring periodscertain unusual powers; and these exhibitions have had especial attractionfor superstitious persons, whether they have believed in God, or in thedevil, or in neither. A further feature also uniform in such cases, hasbeen that a small element of truth may furnish a substructure for aconsiderable edifice of falsehood; human credulity being always aninsatiable faculty, and its powers being unlimited when once the path ofordinary experience has been transcended. We have seen in our own time towhat excesses occurrences of this kind may tempt the belief, even whendefended with the armour of science. In the sixteenth century, whendemoniacal possession was the explanation usually received even of ordinaryinsanity, we can well believe that the temptation must have been great torecognise supernatural agency in a manifestation far more uncommon; andthat the difficulty of retaining the judgment in a position of equipoisemust have been very great not only to the spectators but still more to thesubject of the phenomenon herself. To sustain ourselves continuously underthe influence of reason, even when our faculties are preserved in theirnatural balance, is a task too hard for most of us. We cannot easily maketoo great allowance for the moral derangement likely to follow, when a weakgirl suddenly found herself possessed of powers which she was unable tounderstand. Bearing this in mind, for it is only just that we should do so, we continue the story. 

This Elizabeth Barton, then, "in the trances, of which she had divers andmany, [310] consequent upon her illness, told wondrously things done andsaid in other places whereat she was neither herself present, nor yet hadheard no report thereof. " To simple-minded people who believed in Romanismand the legends of the saints, the natural explanation of such a marvelwas, that she must be possessed either by the Holy Ghost or by the devil. The archbishop's bailiff, not feeling himself able to decide in a case ofso much gravity, called in the advice of the parish priest, one RichardMasters; and together they observed carefully all that fell from her. Thegirl had been well disposed, as the priest probably knew. She had beenbrought up religiously; and her mind running upon what was most familiar toit, "she spake words of marvellous holyness in rebuke of sin andvice;"[311] or, as another account says, "she spake very godly certainthings concerning the seven deadly sins and the Ten Commandments. "[312]This seemed satisfactory as to the source of the inspiration. It wasclearly not a devil that spoke words against sin, and therefore, as therewas no other alternative, it was plain that God had visited her. Her powerswere assuredly from heaven; and it was plain, also, by a natural sequenceof reasoning, that she held some divine commission, of which herclairvoyance was the miracle in attestation. 

An occurrence of such moment was not to be kept concealed in the parish ofAldington. The priest mounted his horse, and rode to Lambeth with the newsto the Archbishop of Canterbury; and the story having lost nothing of itsmarvel by the way, [313] the archbishop, who was fast sinking into dotage, instead of ordering a careful inquiry, and appointing some competent personto conduct it, listened with greedy interest; he assured Father Richardthat "the speeches which she had spoken came of God; and bidding him keephim diligent account of all her utterances, directed him to inform her inhis name that she was not to refuse or hide the goodness and works of God. "Cobb, the bailiff, being encouraged by such high authority, would not keepany longer in his kitchen a prophetess with the archbishop's imprimaturupon her; and as soon as the girl was sufficiently recovered from herillness to leave her bed, he caused her to sit at his own mess with hismistress and the parson. [314] The story spread rapidly through the country;inquisitive foolish people came about her to try her skill with questions;and her illness, as she subsequently confessed, having then left her, andas only her reputation was remaining, she bethought herself whether itmight not be possible to preserve it a little longer. "Perceiving herselfto be much made of, to be magnified and much set by, by reason of triflingwords spoken unadvisedly by idleness of her brain, she conceived in hermind that having so good success, and furthermore from so small an occasionand nothing to be esteemed, she might adventure further to enterprise andessay what she could do, being in good advisement and remembrance. "[315]Her fits no longer recurred naturally, but she was able to reproduce eitherthe reality or the appearance of them; and she continued to improvise heroracles with such ability as she could command, and with tolerable success. 

In this undertaking she was speedily provided with an efficient coadjutor. The Catholic church had for some time been unproductive of miracles, and asheresy was raising its head and attracting converts, so opportune anoccurrence was not to be allowed to sleep. The archbishop sent hiscomptroller to the Prior of Christ Church at Canterbury, with directionsthat two monks whom he especially named, Doctor Bocking, the cellarer, andDan William Hadley, should go to Aldington to observe. [316] At first, notknowing what was before them, both prior and monks were unwilling to meddlewith the matter. [317] They submitted, however, "from the obedience whichthey owed unto their lord;" and they had soon reason to approve thecorrectness of the archbishop's judgment. Bocking, selected no doubt fromprevious knowledge of his qualities, was a man devoted to his order, andnot over-scrupulous as to the means by which he furthered the interests ofit. With instinctive perception he discovered material in Elizabeth Bartontoo rich to be allowed to waste itself in a country village. Perhaps hepartially himself believed in her, but he was more anxious to ensure thebelief of others, and he therefore set himself to assist her inspirationtowards more effective utterance. Conversing with her in her intervals ofquiet, he discovered that she was wholly ignorant, and unprovided with anystock of mental or imaginative furniture; and that consequently herprophecies were without body, and too indefinite to be theologicallyavailable. This defect he remedied by instructing her in the Catholiclegends, and by acquainting her with the revelations of St. Brigitt and St. Catherine of Sienna. [318] In these women she found an enlarged reflectionof herself; the details of their visions enriched her imagery; and beingprovided with these fair examples, she was able to shape herself intofuller resemblance with the traditionary model of the saints. 

As she became more proficient, Father Bocking extended his lessons to theProtestant controversy, initiating his pupil into the mysteries ofjustification, sacramental grace, and the power of the keys. The readydamsel redelivered his instructions to the world in her moments ofpossession; and the world discovered a fresh miracle in the inspired wisdomof the untaught peasant. Lists of these pregnant sayings wereforwarded[319] regularly to the archbishop, which still possibly liemouldering in the Lambeth library, to be discovered by curious antiquaries. It is idle to inquire how far she was yet conscious of her falsehood. Conscious wilful deception lies far down the road in a course of this kind;and supported by the assurance of an archbishop, she was in all likelihooddeep in lying before she actually knew it. Fanaticism and deceit arestrangely near relations to each other, and the deceiver is often theperson first deceived, and the last who is aware of the imposture. 

The instructions of the Father had made her acquainted with many stories ofmiraculous cures. The Catholic saints followed the type of the apostles, and to heal diseases by supernatural means was a more orthodox form ofcredential than clairvoyance or second sight. Being now cured of her realdisorder, yet able to counterfeit the appearance of it, she could find nodifficulty in arranging in her own case a miracle of the established kind, and so striking an incident would answer a further end. In the parish was achapel of the Virgin, which was a place of pilgrimage; the pilgrims addedsomething to the income of the priest; and if, by a fresh demonstration ofthe Virgin's presence at the favoured spot, the number of these pilgrimscould be increased, they would add more. For both reasons, therefore, themiracle was desired; and the priest and the monk were agreed that any meanswere justifiable which would encourage the devotion of the people. [320]Accordingly, the girl announced, in one of her trances, that "she wouldnever take health of her body till such time as she had visited the imageof our Lady" in that chapel. The Virgin had herself appeared to her, shesaid, and had fixed a day for her appearance there, and had promised thaton her obedience she would present herself in person and take away herdisorder. [321] The day came; and as (under the circumstances) there was nodanger of failure, the holy fathers had collected a vast concourse ofpeople to witness the marvel. The girl was conducted to the chapel by aprocession of more than two thousand persons, headed by the monk, theclergyman, and many other religious persons, the whole multitude "singingthe Litany and saying divers psalms and orations by the way. "

"And when she was brought thither[322] and laid before the image of ourLady, her face was wonderfully disfigured, her tongue hanging out, and hereyes being in a manner plucked out and laid upon her cheeks, and so greatlydeformed. There was then heard a voice speaking within her belly, as it hadbeen in a tonne, her lips not greatly moving: she all that while continuingby the space of three hours or more in a trance. The which voice, when ittold of anything of the joys of heaven, spake so sweetly and so heavenly, that every man was ravished with the hearing thereof; and contrarywise, when it told anything of hell, it spake so horribly and terribly, that itput the hearers in a great fear. It spake also many things for theconfirmation of pilgrimages and trentals, hearing of masses and confession, and many other such things. And after she had lyen there a long time, shecame to herself again, and was perfectly whole. So this miracle wasfinished and solemnly sung; and a book was written of all the whole storythereof, and put into print; which ever since that time was commonly sold, and went abroad among the people. "

The miracle successfully accomplished, the residence at Aldington was nolonger adapted for an acknowledged and favoured saint. The Virgin informedher that she was to leave the bailiff and devote herself to her exclusiveservice. She was to be Sister Elizabeth, and her especial favourite; andFather Bocking was to be her spiritual father. The priory of St. Sepulchre's, Canterbury, was chosen for the place of her profession; and assoon as she was established in her cell, she became a recognised priestessor prophetess, alternately communicating revelations, or indulging thecuriosity of foolish persons, and for both services consenting to be paid. The church had by this time spread her reputation through England. The bookof her oracles, which extended soon to a considerable volume, was shown byArchbishop Warham to the king, who sent it to Sir Thomas More, desiring himto look at it. More's good sense had not yet forsaken him; he pronounced it"a right poor production, such as any simple woman might speak of her ownwit;"[323] and Henry himself "esteemed the matter as light as it afterwardsproved lewd. " But the world were less critical censors: the saintly halowas round her head, and her most trivial words caught the reflection of theglory, and seemed divine. "Divers and many, as well great men of the realmas mean men, and many learned men, but specially many religious men, hadgreat confidence in her, and often resorted to her. "[324] They "consultedher much as to the will of God touching the heresies and schisms in therealm;" and when the dispute arose between the bishops and the House ofCommons, they asked her what judgment there was in heaven "on the takingaway the liberties of the church;" to which questions her answers, beingdictated by her confessor, were all which the most eager churchman coulddesire. Her position becoming more and more determined, the eccentricperiods of her earlier visions subsided into regularity. Once a fortnightshe was taken up into heaven into the presence of God and the saints, withheavenly lights, heavenly voices, heavenly melodies and joys. The place ofascent was usually the priory chapel, to which it was essential, therefore, that she should have continual access: and she was allowed, in consequence, to pass the dormitory door when she pleased--a privilege of which theStatute uncharitably hints that she availed herself for a less respectablepurpose. But whatever was her secret conduct, her outward behaviour was infull keeping with her language and profession. She related many startlingstories, not always of the most decent kind, of the attempts which thedevil made to lead her astray. The devil and the angels were in factalternate visitors to her cell, and the former, on one occasion, burnt amark upon her hand, which she exhibited publicly, and to which the monkswere in the habit of appealing, when there were any signs of scepticism inthe visitors to the priory. On the occasion of these infernal visits, "great stinking smokes" were seen to issue from her chamber, "savouringgrievously through all the dorture;" with which, however, it was suspectedsubsequently that a paper of brimstone and assafoetida, found among herproperty after her arrest, had been in some way connected. We smile atthese stories, looking back at them with eyes enlightened by scientificscepticism; but they furnished matter for something else than smiles whenthe accounts of them could be exhibited by the clergy as a living proof ofthe credibility of the Aurea Legenda, --when the subject of them could beheld up as a witness, accredited by miracles, to the truth of the oldfaith, a living evidence to shame the incredulity of the Protestantsectaries. She became a figure of great and singular significance; a "wisewoman, " to whom persons of the highest rank were not ashamed to haverecourse to inquire of her the will of God, and to ask the benefit of herintercessory prayers, for which also they did not fail to pay at a ratecommensurate with their credulity. [325]

This position the Nun of Kent, as she was now called, had achieved forherself, when the divorce question was first agitated. The monks at theCanterbury priory, of course, eagerly espoused the side of the queen, andthe Nun's services were at once in active requisition. Absurd as thestories of her revelations may seem to us, she had already given evidencethat she was no vulgar impostor, and in the dangerous career on which shenow entered, she conducted herself with the utmost skill and audacity. Farfrom imitating the hesitation of the pope and the bishops, she issuedboldly, "in the name and by the authority of God, " a solemn prohibitionagainst the king; threatening that, if he divorced his wife, he should not"reign a month, but should die a villain's death. "[326] Burdened with thismessage, she forced herself into the presence of Henry himself;[327] andwhen she failed to produce an effect upon Henry's obdurate scepticism, sheturned to the hesitating ecclesiastics, and roused their flagging spirits. The archbishop bent under her denunciations, and at her earnest requestintroduced her to Wolsey, then tottering on the edge of ruin. [328] He, too, in his confusion and perplexity, was frightened, and doubted. She madeherself known to the papal ambassadors, and through them she took uponherself to threaten Clement, [329] assuming, in virtue of her divinecommission, an authority above all principalities and powers. If it werelikely that she could have heard the story of the Maid of Orleans, it mightbe supposed that her imagination tempted her to play again a similar careeron an English stage, and that she fancied herself the destined saviour ofthe Church of Christ, as the Maid had been the saviour of France. 

It would indeed be a libel on the fair fame of Joan of Arc, if she were tobe compared to a confessed impostor; but Joan of Arc might have been thereality which the Nun attempted to counterfeit; and the history of the trueheroine might have suggested easily to the imitator the outline of herpart. A revolution had been effected in Europe by a somnambulist peasantgirl; another peasant girl, a somnambulist also, might have seen in theachievement which had been already accomplished, an earnest of what mightbe done by herself. While we call the Nun, too, an impostor, we are boundto believe that she first imposed upon herself, and that her wildestadventures into falsehood were compatible with a belief that she was reallyand truly inspired. Nothing short of such a conviction would have enabledher to play a part among kings and queens, and so many of the ableststatesmen of that most able age. Nothing else could have tempted her, onthe failure of her prophecies, into the desperate career of treason intowhich we are soon to see her launched. 

Her proceedings were known partially, but partially only, to the king; andthe king seems to have been the only person whose understanding was proofagainst her influence. To him she appeared nothing worse than an excitedfanatic, and he allowed her to go her own way, as the best escapement of afrenzy. Until parliament had declared it illegal to discuss the marriagequestion further, he interfered with no one, and therefore not with her. Ifher own word was to be taken, he even showed her much personal kindness, having offered to make her an abbess, which is difficult to believe, especially as she said that she had refused his offer. She stated also thatat the time of Lord Wiltshire's mission to the emperor, the Countess ofWiltshire endeavoured to persuade her to accept a place at the court, as acompanion to Anne; which again is unsupported by other evidence, and soundsimprobable. [330] But it is plain, that until she was found to be meditatingtreason, she experienced no treatment from the government of which she hadcause to complain; and thus for the present we may leave her pursuing hermachinations with the Canterbury friars, and return to the parliament. 

The second session had been longer than the first; it had commenced on the16th of January, and continued for ten weeks. On the 30th of March, whichwas to be its last day, Sir Thomas More came down to the House of Commons, and there read aloud to the members the decision of the variousuniversities on the papal power, and the judgment of European learning onthe general question of the king's divorce. The country, he said, was muchdisturbed, and the king desired them each to report what they had heard intheir several counties and towns, "in order that all men might perceivethat he had not attempted this matter of his own will or pleasure, as somestrangers reported, but only for the discharge of his conscience and suretyof the succession of his realm. "[331] This appears to have been the firsttime that the subject was mentioned before parliament, and the occasion wasreasonably and sensibly chosen. The clergy having possession of thepulpits, had used their opportunity to spread a false impression where theignorance of the people would allow them to venture the experiment; theking having resolved to fall back upon the support of his subjects, naturally desired the assistance of the country gentlemen and the nobles tocounteract the efforts of disaffection, and provided them with accurateinformation in the simplest manner which he could have chosen. 

But the desire expressed by Henry was no more than an unnecessary form, foras a body, the educated laity were as earnestly bent upon the divorce asthe king himself could be, and might have been trusted to use all means bywhich to further it. The parliament was prorogued, but the Lords, shortlyafter the separation, united with such of the Commons as remained inLondon, to give a proof of their feeling by a voluntary address to thepope. The meaning of this movement was not to be mistaken. On one side, theNun of Kent was threatening Clement, speaking, perhaps, the feelings of theclergy and of all the women in England; on the other side, the parliamentthought well to threaten him, speaking for the great body of English _men_, for all persons of substance and property, who desired above all thingspeace and order and a secured succession. 

The language of this remarkable document[332] was as follows:--

"To the Most Holy Lord our Lord and Father in Christ, Clement, by DivineProvidence the seventh of that name, we desire perpetual happiness in ourLord Jesus Christ. 

"Most blessed Father, albeit the cause concerning the marriage of the mostinvincible prince, our sovereign lord, the King of England and of France, Defender of the Faith, and Lord of Ireland, does for sundry great andweighty reasons require and demand the aid of your Holiness, that it may bebrought to that brief end and determination which we with so great andearnest desire have expected, and which we have been contented hitherto toexpect, though so far vainly, at your Holiness's hands; we have beenunable, nevertheless, to keep longer silence herein, seeing that thiskingdom and the affairs of it are brought into so high peril through theunseasonable delay of sentence. His Majesty, who is our head, and byconsequence the life of us all, and we through him as subject members by ajust union annexed to the head, have with great earnestness entreated yourHoliness for judgment; we have however entreated in vain: we are by thegreatness of our grief therefore forced separately and distinctly by theseour letters most humbly to demand a speedy determination. There ought, indeed, to have been no need of this request on our part. The justice ofthe cause itself, approved to be just by the sentence of so many learnedmen, by the suffrage of the most famous universities in England, France, and Italy, should have sufficed alone to have induced your Holiness toconfirm the sentence given by others; especially when the interests of aking and kingdom are at stake, which in so many ways have deserved well ofthe apostolic see. This we say ought to have been motive sufficient withyou, without need of petition on our part; and if we had added ourentreaties, it should have been but as men yielding to a causeless anxiety, and wasting words for which there was no occasion. Since, however, neitherthe merit of the cause nor the recollection of the benefits which you havereceived, nor the assiduous and diligent supplications of our prince haveavailed anything with your Holiness; since we cannot obtain from you whatit is your duty as a father to grant; the load of our grief, increased asit is beyond measure by the remembrance of the past miseries and calamitieswhich have befallen this nation, makes vocal every member of ourcommonwealth, and compels us by word and letter to utter our complaints. 

"For what a misfortune is this, --that a sentence which our own twouniversities, which the University of Paris, and many other universities inFrance, which men of the highest learning and probity everywhere, at homeand abroad, are ready to defend with word and pen, that such sentence, wesay, cannot be obtained from the apostolic see by a prince to whom that seeowes its present existence. Amidst the attacks of so many and so powerfulenemies, the King of England ever has stood by that see with sword and pen, with voice and with authority. Yet he alone is to reap no benefit from hislabours. He has saved the papacy from ruin, that others might enjoy thefruits of the life which he has preserved for it. We see not what answercan be made to this; and meanwhile we perceive a flood of miseriesimpending over the commonwealth, threatening to bring back upon us theancient controversy on the succession, which had been extinguished onlywith so much blood and slaughter. We have now a king most eminent for hisvirtues, and reigning by unchallenged title, who will secure assuredtranquillity to the realm if he leave a son born of his body to succeedhim. The sole hope that such a son may be born to him lies in the beingfound for him some lawful marriage into which he may enter; and to suchmarriage the only obstacle lies with your Holiness. It cannot be until youshall confirm the sentence of so many learned men on the character of hisformer connection. This if you will not do, if you who ought to be ourfather have determined to leave us as orphans, and to treat us ascastaways, we shall interpret such conduct to mean only that we are left tocare for ourselves, and to seek our remedy elsewhere. We do not desire tobe driven to this extremity, and therefore we beseech your Holiness withoutfurther delay to assist his Majesty's just and reasonable desires. Weentreat you to confirm the judgment of these learned men; and for the sakeof that love and fatherly affection which your office requires you to showtowards us, not to close your bowels of compassion against us, your mostdutiful, most loving, most obedient children. The cause of his Majesty isthe cause of each of ourselves; the head cannot suffer, but the membersmust bear a part. We have all our common share in the pain and in theinjury; and as the remedy is wholly in the power of your Holiness, so doesthe duty of your fatherly office require you to administer it. If, however, your Holiness will not do this, or if you choose longer to delay to do it, our condition hitherto will have been so much the more wretched, that wehave so long laboured fruitlessly and in vain. But it will not be whollyirremediable; extreme remedies are ever harsh of application; but he thatis sick will by any means be rid of his distemper; and there is hope in theexchange of miseries, when, if we cannot obtain what is good, we may obtaina lesser evil, and trust that time may enable us to endure it. 

"These things we beseech your Holiness, in the name of our Lord JesusChrist, to consider with yourself. You profess that on earth you are Hisvicar. Endeavour, then, to show yourself so to be, by pronouncing yoursentence to the glory and praise of God, and giving your sanction to thattruth which has been examined, approved, and after much deliberationconfirmed by the most learned men of all nations. We meanwhile will praythe all-good God, whom we know by most sure testimony to be truth itself, that He will deign so to inform and direct the counsels of your Holiness, that we obtaining by your authority what is holy, just, and true, may bespared from seeking it by other more painful methods. "

Thus was the great crisis steadily maturing itself, and the cause by thispetition was made to rest upon its proper merits. The justification of thedemand for the divorce was the danger of civil war; and into civil war thenation had no intention of permitting themselves to be drifted by papalimbecility. Whatever was the origin of Henry's resolution, it was acted outwith calmness, and justified by sober reason; and backed by the good senseof his lay subjects, he proceeded bravely, in spite of excommunication, interdict, and the Nun of Kent, towards the object which his country'sinterests, as well as his own, required. 

It would have been well if his private behaviour as a man had been asunobjectionable as his conduct as a sovereign. Hitherto he had remainedunder the same roof with Queen Catherine, but with that indelicacy whichwas the singular blemish on his character, he had maintained her rival inthe same household with the state of a princess, [333] and needlesslywounded feelings which he was bound to have spared to the utmost which hisduty permitted. The circumstances of the case, if they were known to us, though they could never excuse such a proceeding, might perhaps partiallypalliate it. Catherine was harsh and offensive, and it was by her owndetermination, and not by Henry's desire, that she was unprovided with anestablishment elsewhere. There lay, moreover, as I have said, behind thescenes a whole drama of contention and bitterness, which now is happilyconcealed from us; but which being concealed, leaves us without the clue tothese painful doings. Indelicate, however, the position given to AnneBoleyn could not but be; and, if it was indelicate in Henry to grant such aposition, what shall we say of the lady who consented, in the presence ofher sovereign and mistress, to wear such ignominious splendour?

But in these most offensive relations there was henceforth to be a change. In June, 1531, two months after the prorogation of parliament, a deputationof the privy council went to the apartments of Catherine at Greenwich, andlaying before her the papers which had been read by Sir Thomas More to thetwo Houses, demanded formally, whether, for the sake of the country, andfor the quiet of the king's conscience, she would withdraw her appeal toRome, and submit to an arbitration in the kingdom. It was, probably, but anofficial request, proposed without expectation that she would yield. Afterrejecting a similar entreaty from the pope himself, she was not likely, inflexible as she had ever been, to yield when the pope had admitted herappeal, and the emperor, victorious through Europe, had promised hersupport. She refused, of course, like herself, proudly, resolutely, gallantly, and not without the scorn which she was entitled to feel. Thenation had no claims upon her, and "for the king's conscience, " sheanswered, "I pray God send his Grace good quiet therein, and tell him I sayI am his lawful wife, and to him lawfully married; and in that point I willabide till the court of Rome, which was privy to the beginning, hath madethereof a determination and a final ending. "[334] The learned councillorsretired with their answer. A more passive resistance would have been moredignified; but Catherine was a queen, and a queen she chose to be; and indefence of her own high honour, and of her daughter's, by no act of herswould she abate one tittle of her dignity, or cease to assert her claim toit. Her reply, however, appears to have been anticipated, and the requestwas only preparatory to ulterior measures. For the sake of public decency, and certainly in no unkind spirit towards herself, a retirement from thecourt was now to be forced upon her. At Midsummer she accompanied the kingto Windsor; in the middle of July he left her there, and never saw heragain. She was removed to the More, a house in Hertfordshire, which hadbeen originally built by George Neville, Archbishop of York, and hadbelonged to Wolsey, who had maintained it with his usual splendour. [335]Once more an attempt was made to persuade her to submit; but with no betterresult, and a formal establishment was then provided for her at Ampthill, alarge place belonging to Henry not far from Dunstable. There at least shewas her own mistress, surrounded by her own friends, who were true to heras queen, and she attracted to her side from all parts of England thosewhom sympathy or policy attached to her cause. The court, though keeping apartial surveillance over her, did not dare to restrict her liberty; and asthe measures against the church became more stringent, and a separationfrom the papacy more nearly imminent, she became the nucleus of a powerfulpolitical party. Her injuries had deprived the king and the nation of aright to complain of her conduct. She owed nothing to England. Herallegiance, politically, was to Spain; spiritually she was the subject ofthe pope; and this dubious position gave her an advantage which she was notslow to perceive. Rapidly every one rallied to her who adhered to the oldfaith, and to whom the measures of the government appeared a sacrilege. Through herself, or through her secretaries and confessors, acorrespondence was conducted which brought the courts of the continent intoconnection with the various disaffected parties in England, with the Nun ofKent and her friars, with the Poles, the Nevilles, the Courtenays, and allthe remaining faction of the White Rose. And so first the great party ofsedition began to shape itself, which for sixty years, except in theshortlived interlude of its triumph under Catherine's daughter, held thenation on the edge of civil war. We shall see this faction slowly andsteadily organising itself, starting from scattered and small beginnings, till at length it overspread all England and Ireland and Scotland, exploding from time to time in abortive insurrections, yet ever held incheck by the tact and firmness of the government, and by the inherentloyalty of the English to the land of their birth. There was a proverb thencurrent that "the treasons of England should never cease. "[336] It wasperhaps fortunate that the papal cause was the cause of a foreign power, and could only be defended by a betrayal of the independence of thecountry. In Scotland and Ireland the insurrectionists were more successful, being supported in either instance by the national feeling. But thestrength of Scotland had been broken at Flodden; and Ireland, though hating"the Saxons" with her whole heart, was far off and divided. The true dangerwas at home; and when the extent and nature of it is fairly known andweighed, we shall understand better what is called the "tyranny" of HenryVIII. And of Elizabeth; and rather admire the judgment than condemn theresolution which steered the country safe among those dangerous shoals. Elizabeth's position is more familiar to us, and is more reasonablyappreciated because the danger was more palpable. Henry has been hardlyjudged because he trampled down the smouldering fire, and never allowed itto assume the form which would have justified him with the foolish and theunthinking. Once and once only the flame blazed out; but it was checked onthe instant, and therefore it has been slighted and forgotten. But withdespatches before his eyes, in which Charles V. Was offering James ofScotland the hand of the Princess Mary, with the title for himself ofPrince of England and Duke of York[337]--with Ireland, as we shall speedilysee it, in flame from end to end, and Dublin castle the one spot leftwithin the island on which the banner of St. George still floated--with acorps of friars in hair shirts and chains, who are also soon to beintroduced to us, and an inspired prophetess at their head preachingrebellion in the name of God--with his daughter, and his daughter's motherin league against him, some forty thousand clergy to be coerced into honestdealing, and the succession to the crown floating in uncertainty--finally, with excommunication hanging over himself, and at length falling, and hisdeposition pronounced, Henry, we may be sure, had no easy time of it, andno common work to accomplish; and all these things ought to be presentbefore our minds, as they were present before his mind, if we would see himas he was, and judge him as we would be judged ourselves. 

Leaving disaffection to mature itself, we return to the struggle betweenthe House of Commons and the bishops, which recommenced in the followingwinter; first pausing to notice a clerical interlude of some illustrativeimportance which took place in the close of the summer. The clergy, as wesaw, were relieved of their premunire on engaging to pay 118, 000 poundswithin five years. They were punished for their general offences; theformal offence for which they were condemned being one which could notfairly be considered an offence at all. When they came to discuss thereforethe manner in which the money was to be levied, they naturally quarrelledamong themselves as to where the burden of the fine should fairly rest, anda little scene has been preserved to us by Hall, through which, withmomentary distinctness, we can look in upon those poor men in theirperplexity. The bishops had settled among themselves that each dioceseshould make its own arrangements; and some of these great persons intendedto spare their own shoulders to the utmost decent extremity. With thisobject, Stokesley, Bishop of London, who was just then very busy burningheretics, and therefore in bad odour with the people, resolved to call ameeting of five or six of his clergy, on whom he could depend; and passingquietly with their assistance such resolutions as seemed convenient, toavoid in this way the more doubtful expedient of a large assembly. 

The necessary intimations were given, and the meeting was to be held on the1st of September, in the Chapter-house of St. Paul's. The bishop arrived atthe time appointed, but unhappily for his hopes, not only the chosen six, but with them six hundred of the clergy of Middlesex, accompanied by a mobof the London citizens, all gathered in a crowd at the Chapter-house door, and clamouring to be admitted. 

The bishop, trusting in the strength of the chains and bolts, and stillhoping to manage the affair officially, sent out a list of persons whomight be allowed to take part in the proceedings, and these with difficultymade their way to the entrance. A rush was made by the others as they weregoing in, and there was a scuffle, which ended for the moment in thevictory of the officials: but the triumph was of brief duration; theexcluded clergy were now encouraged by the people; they returned vigorouslyto the attack, broke down the doors, "struck the bishop's officers over theface, " and the whole crowd, priests and laity, rushed together, stormingand shouting, into the Chapter-house. The scene may be easily imagined;dust flying, gowns torn, heads broken, well-fed faces in the hot Septemberweather steaming with anger and exertion, and every voice in loudestoutcry. At length the clamour was partially subdued, and the bishop, beautifully equal to the emergency, arose bland and persuasive. 

"My brethren, " he said, "I marvel not a little why ye be so heady. Ye knownot what shall be said to you, therefore I pray you keep silence, and hearme patiently. My friends, ye all know that we be men, frail of conditionand no angels; and by frailty and lack of wisdom we have misdemeanedourselves towards the king our sovereign lord and his laws; so that all weof the clergy were in premunire, by reason whereof all our promotions, lands, goods, and chattels were to him forfeit, and our bodies ready to beimprisoned. Yet his Grace, moved with pity and compassion, demanded of uswhat we could say why he should not extend his laws upon us. 

"Then the fathers of the clergy humbly besought his Grace for mercy, towhom he answered he was ever inclined to mercy. Then for all our greatoffences we had but little penance; for when he might, by the rigour of hislaws, have taken all our livelihoods, he was contented with one hundredthousand pounds, to be paid in five years. And though this sum may be morethan we may easily bear, yet, by the rigour of his law, we should haveborne the whole burden; whereupon, my brethren, I charitably exhort you tobear your parts of your livelihood and salary towards payment of this sumgranted. "[338]

The ingenuity of this address deserved all praise; but the beauty of theform was insufficient to disguise the inconclusiveness of the reasoning. Itconfessed an offence which the hearers knew to be none; the trueprovocation which had led to the penalty--the unjust extortion of the highchurch officials--was ignored. The crowd laughed and hooted. The clergyfiercely tightened their purse-strings, and the bishop was heard out withhardly restrained indignation. "My lord, " it was shortly answered by one ofthem, "twenty nobles a year is but a bare living for a priest. Victual andall else is now so dear that poverty enforceth us to say nay. Besides that, my lord, we never meddled with the cardinal's faculties. Let the bishopsand abbots which have offended pay. " Loud clamour followed and shouts ofapplause. The bishop's officers gave the priests high words. The prieststhrew back the taunts as they came; and the London citizens, delighting inthe scandalous quarrel, hounded on the opposition. From words they passedto blows; the bedell and vergers tried to keep order, but "were buffetedand stricken, "[339] and the meeting broke up in wild uproar and confusion. For this matter five of the lay crowd and fifteen London curates were sentto the Tower by Sir Thomas More; but the undignified manoeuvre had failed, and the fruit of it was but fresh disgrace. United, the clergy might havedefied the king and the parliament; but in the race of selfishness thebishops and high dignitaries had cared only for their own advantage. Theyhad left the poorer members of their order with no interest in common withthat of their superiors, beyond the shield which the courts consented toextend over moral delinquency; and in the hour of danger they foundthemselves left naked and alone to bear the storm as they were able. 

This incident, and it was perhaps but one of many, is not likely to havesoftened the disposition of the Commons, or induced them to entertain morerespectfully the bishops' own estimate of their privileges. The convocationand the parliament met simultaneously, on the 15th of January, and theconflict, which had been for two years in abeyance, recommenced. Theinitial measure was taken by convocation, and this body showed a spiritstill unsubdued, and a resolution to fight in their own feebly tyrannicalmanner to the last. A gentleman in Gloucestershire had lately died, by nameTracy. In his last testament he had bequeathed his soul to God through themercies of Christ, declining the mediatorial offices of the saints; andleaving no money to be expended in masses. [340] Such notorious heresy couldnot be passed over with impunity, and the first step of the assembledclergy[341] was to issue a commission to raise the body and burn it. Theiraudacity displayed at once the power which they possessed, and the temperin which they were disposed to use it. The Archbishop of Canterbury seemsto have been responsible for this monstrous order, which unfortunately wascarried into execution before Henry had time to interfere. [342] It was thelast act of the kind, however, in which he was permitted to indulge, andthe legislature made haste to take away such authority from hands soincompetent to use it. From their debates upon burning the dead Tracy, convocation were proceeding to discuss the possibility of burning theliving Latimer, [343] when they were recalled to their senses by a summonsto prepare some more reasonable answer than that which the bishops had madefor them on their privilege of making laws. Twenty more years of work wereto be lived by Latimer before they were to burn him, and their owndelinquencies were for the present of a more pressing nature. The House ofCommons at the same time proceeded to frame necessary bills on the otherpoints of their complaint. 

The first act upon the roll recalls the Constitutions of Clarendon and thefamous quarrel between Becket and the Crown. When Catholicism was a livingbelief, when ordained priests were held really and truly to possess thoseawful powers which the mystery of transubstantiation assigns to them, theywere acknowledged by common consent to be an order apart from the rest ofmankind, and being spiritual men, to be amenable only to spiritualjurisdiction. It was not intended that, if they committed crimes, theyshould escape the retributive consequences of those crimes: offendersagainst the law might (originally at least) be degraded, if the bishopsthought good, and stripped of their commission be delivered thus to thesecular arm. But the more appropriate punishment for such persons was of amore awful kind, proportioned to the magnitude of the fault; and wasconveyed or held to be conveyed in the infliction of the spiritual death ofexcommunication. Excommunication was, in real earnest, the death of thesoul, at a time when communion with the church was the only means by whichthe soul could be made partaker of the divine life; and it was a noblething to believe that there was something worse for a man than legalpenalties on his person or on his mortal body; it was beautiful torecognise in an active living form, that the heaviest ill which couldbefall a man was to be cut off from God. But it is only for periods thathumanity can endure the atmosphere of these high altitudes of morality. Theearly Christians attempted a community of goods, but they were unequal toit for more than a generation. The discipline of Catholicism was assistedby superstition, --it remained vigorous for many hundreds of years, but itlanguished at last; and although there was so great virtue in a livingidea, that its forms preserved the reverence of mankind unabated, even whenin their effect and working they had become as evil as they once werenoble; yet reverence and endurance were at length exhausted, and theseforms were to submit to alteration in conformity with the altered nature ofthe persons whom they affected. 

I have already alluded to the abuse of "benefit of clergy;"[344] we havearrived at the first of those many steps by which at length it was finallyput away, --a step which did not, however, as yet approach the heart of theevil, but touched only its extreme outworks. The clergy had monopolised thelearning of the middle ages, and few persons external to their body beingable to read or write, their privileges became co-extensive, as I abovestated, with these acquirements. The exemption from secular jurisdiction, which they obtained in virtue of their sacred character, had been used as aprotection in villainy for every scoundrel who could write his name. Underthis plea, felons of the worst kind might claim, till this time, to betaken out of the hands of the law judges, and to be tried at the bishops'tribunals; and at these tribunals, such a monstrous solecism hadCatholicism become, the payment of money was ever welcomed as the readyexpiation of crime. To prevent the escape of the Bishop of Rochester'scook, who was a "clerk, " parliament had specially interfered, and sentencedhim without trial, by attainder. They now passed a general act, remarkablealike in what it provided as in what, for the present, it omitted toprovide. [345] The preamble related the nature of the evil which was to beremedied, and the historical position of it. It dwelt upon the assuranceswhich had been given again and again by the ordinaries that theirprivileges should not be abused; but these promises had been broken asoften as they had been made; so that "continually manifest thieves andmurderers, indicted and found guilty of their misdeeds by good andsubstantial inquests, and afterwards, by the usages of the common lawes ofthe land, delivered to the ordinaries as clerks convict, were speedily andhastily delivered and set at large by the ministers of the said ordinariesfor corruption and lucre; or else because the ordinaries enclaiming suchoffenders by the liberties of the church would in no wise take the chargesin safe keeping of them, but did suffer them to make their purgation bysuch as nothing knew of their misdeeds, and by such fraud did annull andmake void the good and provable trial which was used against such offendersby the king's law; to the pernicious example, increase, and courage of suchoffenders, if the King's Highness by his authority royal put not speedyremedy thereto. "

To provide such necessary remedy, it was enacted that thenceforward noperson under the degree of subdeacon, if guilty of felony, should beallowed to plead "his clergy" any more, but should be proceeded against bythe ordinary law. So far it was possible to go--an enormous step if wethink of what the evil had been; and in such matters to make a beginningwas the true difficulty--it was the logical premise from which theconclusion could not choose but follow. Yet such was the mysticalsacredness which clung about the ordained clergy, that their patentprofligacy had not yet destroyed it--a priest might still commit a murder, and the profane hand of the law might not reach to him. 

The measure, however, if imperfect, was excellent in its degree; and whenthis had been accomplished, the House proceeded next to deal with theArches Court--the one enormous grievance of the time. The petition of theCommons has already exhibited the condition of this institution; but theact by which the power of it was limited added more than one particular towhat had been previously stated, and the first twenty lines of the statutewhich was now passed[346] may be recommended to the consideration of themodern censors of the Reformation. The framer of the resolution was no badfriend to the bishops, if they had possessed the faculty of knowing whotheir true friends were, for the statement of complaint was limited, mild, and moderate. Again, as with the "benefit of clergy, " the real ground forsurprise is that any fraction of a system so indefensible should have beenpermitted to continue. The courts were nothing else but the vicious sourcesof unjust revenue; and with the opportunity so fairly offered, it isstrange indeed that they were not swept utterly away. But sweeping measureshave never found favour in England. There has ever been in Englishlegislation, even when most reforming, that temperate spirit of equitywhich has refused to visit the sins of centuries upon a single generation. The statute limited its accusations to the points which it was designed tocorrect, and touched these with a hand firmly gentle. 

"Whereas great numbers of the king's subjects, " says the preamble, "as wellmen, wives, servants, or others dwelling in divers dioceses of the realm ofEngland and Wales, heretofore have been at many times called by citationsand other processes compulsory to appear in the Arches, Audience, and otherhigh Courts of the archbishops of this realm, far from and out of thedioceses where such persons are inhabitant and dwelling; and many times toanswer to surmised and feigned causes and matters, which have been suedmore for vexation and malice than from any just cause of suit; and whencertificate hath been made by the sumners, apparitors, or any such lightlitterate persons, that the party against whom such citations have beenawarded hath been cited or summoned; and thereupon the same party socertified to be cited or summoned hath not appeared according to thecertificate, the same party therefore hath been excommunicated, or, at theleast, suspended from all divine service; and thereupon, before that he orshe could be absolved, hath been compelled, not only to pay the fees of thecourt whereunto he or she was so called, amounting to the sum of twoshillings, or twenty pence at the least; but also to pay to the sumner, forevery mile distant from the place where he or she then dwelled unto thesame court whereunto he or she was summoned to appear, twopence; to thegreat charge and impoverishment of the king's subjects, and to the greatoccasion of misbehaviour of wives, women, and servants, and to the greatimpairment and diminution of their good names and honesties--be itenacted----" We ask what?--looking with impatience for some large measureto follow these solemn accusations; and we find parliament contentingitself with forbidding the bishops, under heavy penalties, to cite any manout of his own diocese, except for specified causes (heresy being one ofthem), and with limiting the fees which were to be taken by the officers ofthe courts. [347] It could hardly be said that in this parliament there wasany bitter spirit against the church. This act showed only mild forbearanceand complacent endurance of all tolerable evil. 

Another serious matter was dealt with in the same moderate temper. TheMortmain Act had prohibited the church corporations from further absorbingthe lands; but the Mortmain Act was evaded in detail, the clergy usingtheir influence to induce persons on their deathbeds to leave estates toprovide a priest for ever "to sing for their souls. " The arrangement wasconvenient possibly for both parties, or if not for both, certainly forone; but to tie up lands for ever for a special service was not to theadvantage of the country; and it was held unjust to allow a man a perpetualpower over the disposition of property to atone for the iniquities of hislife. But the privilege was not abolished altogether; it was submitted onlyto reasonable limitation. Men might still burden their lands to find apriest for twenty years. After twenty years the lands were to relapse forthe service of the living, and sinners were expected in equity to bear theconsequence in their own persons of such offences as remained after thattime unexpiated. [348]

Thus, in two sessions, the most flagrant of the abuses first complained ofwere in a fair way of being remedied. The exorbitant charges formortuaries, probate duties, legacy duties, the illegal exactions for thesacraments, the worst injustices of the ecclesiastical courts, thenon-residence, pluralities, neglect of cures, the secular occupations andextravagant privileges of the clergy, were either terminated or broughtwithin bounds. There remained yet to be disposed of the legislative powerof the convocation and the tyrannical prosecutions for heresy. The last ofthese was not yet ripe for settlement; the former was under reconsiderationby the convocation itself, which at length was arriving at a truerconception of its position; and this question was not therefore to be dealtwith by the legislature. 

One more important measure, however, was passed by parliament before itseparated, and it is noticeable as the first step which was taken in themomentous direction of a breach with the See of Rome. A practice hadexisted for some hundreds of years in all the churches of Europe, thatbishops and archbishops, on presentation to their sees, should transmit tothe pope, on receiving their bulls of investment, one year's income fromtheir new preferments. It was called the payment of annates, orfirstfruits, and had originated in the time of the crusades, as a means ofproviding a fund for the holy wars. Once established, it had settled intocustom, [349] and was one of the chief resources of the papal revenue. FromEngland alone, as much as 160, 000 pounds had been paid out of the countryin fifty years;[350] and the impost was alike oppressive to individuals andinjurious to the state. Men were appointed to bishopricks frequently at anadvanced age, and dying, as they often did, within two or three years oftheir nomination, their elevation had sometimes involved their families andfriends in debt and embarrassment;[351] while the annual export of so muchbullion was a serious evil at a time when the precious metals formed theonly currency, and were so difficult to obtain. Before a quarrel with thecourt of Rome had been thought of as a possible contingency, the king hadlaboured with the pope to terminate the system by some equitablecomposition; and subsequently cessation of payment had been mentioned morethan once in connection with the threats of a separation. The pope had madelight of these threats, believing them to be no more than words; there wasan opportunity, therefore, of proving that the English government wasreally in earnest, in a manner which would touch him in a point where hewas naturally sensitive, and would show him at the same time that he couldnot wholly count on the attachment even of the clergy themselves. For, infact, the church itself was fast disintegrating, and the allegiance even ofthe bishops and the secular clergy to Rome had begun to waver: they had astronger faith in their own privileges than in the union of Christendom;and if they could purchase the continuance of the former at the price of aquarrel with the pope, some among them were not disinclined to venture thealternative. The Bishop of Rochester held aloof from such tendencies, andWarham, though he signed the address of the House of Lords to the pope, regretted the weakness to which he had yielded: but in the other prelatesthere was little seriousness of conviction; and the constitution of thebench had been affected also by the preferment of Gardiner and Edward Leeto two of the sees made vacant by the death of Wolsey. Both these men hadbeen active agents in the prosecution of the divorce; and Gardiner, followed at a distance by the other, had shaped out, as the pope grew moreintractable, the famous notion that the English church could and shouldsubsist as a separate communion, independent of foreign control, selfgoverned, self organised, and at the same time adhering without variationto Catholic doctrine. This principle (if we may so abuse the word) shotrapidly into popularity: a party formed about it strong in parliament, strong in convocation, strong out of doors among the country gentlemen andthe higher clergy--a respectable, wealthy, powerful body, trading upon asolecism, but not the less, therefore, devoted to its maintenance, and intheir artificial horror of being identified with heresy, the mostrelentless persecutors of the Protestants. This party, unreal as they were, and influential perhaps in virtue of their unreality, became for the momentthe arbiters of the Church of England; and the bishops belonging to it, andeach rising ecclesiastic who hoped to be a bishop, welcomed the resistanceof the annates as an opportunity for a demonstration of their strength. Onthis question, with a fair show of justice, they could at once relievethemselves of a burden which pressed upon their purses, and as theysupposed, gratify the king. The conservatives were still numerically thestrongest, and for a time remained in their allegiance to the Papacy, [352]but their convictions were too feeble to resist the influence brought tobear upon them, and when Parliament re-assembled after the Easter recess, the two Houses of Convocation presented an address to the crown for theabolition of the impost, and with it of all other exactions, direct andindirect, --the indulgences, dispensations, delegacies, and the thousandsimilar forms and processes by which the privileges of the Church ofEngland were abridged for the benefit of the Church of Rome, and weightyinjury of purse inflicted both on the clergy and the laity. [353]

That they contemplated a conclusive revolt from Rome as a consequence ofthe refusal to pay annates, appears positively in the close of theiraddress: "May it please your Grace, " they concluded, after detailing theiroccasions for complaint, --"may it please your Grace to cause the saidunjust exactions to cease, and to be foredone for ever by act of your highCourt of Parliament; and in case the pope will make process against thisrealm for the attaining those annates, or else will retain bishops' bullstill the annates be paid; forasmuch as the exaction of the said annates isagainst the law of God and the pope's own laws, forbidding the buying orselling of spiritual gifts or promotions; and forasmuch as all goodChristian men be more bound to obey God than any man; and forasmuch as St. Paul willeth us to withdraw from all such as walk inordinately; may itplease your Highness to ordain in this present parliament that theobedience of your Highness and of the people be withdrawn from the See ofRome. "[354]

It was perhaps cruel to compel the clergy to be the first to mentionseparation--or the language may have been furnished by the Erastian partyin the Church, who hoped to gratify the King by it, and save the annatesfor themselves; but there was no intention, if the battle was really to befought, of decorating the clergy with the spoils. The bill was passed, butpassed conditionally, leaving power to the Crown if the pope would consentto a compromise of settling the question by a composition. There was aPapal party in the House of Commons whose opposition had perhaps to beconsidered, [355] and the annates were left suspended before Clement at onceas a menace and a bribe. 

"Forasmuch, " concluded the statute, "as the King's Highness and this hishigh Court of Parliament neither have nor do intend in this or any otherlike cause any manner of extremity or violence, before gentle courtesy andfriendly ways and means be first approved and attempted, and without a verygreat urgent cause and occasion given to the contrary; but principallycoveting to disburden this Realm of the said great exactions andintolerable charges of annates and firstfruits: [the said Court ofParliament] have therefore thought convenient to commit the final order anddetermination of the premises unto the King's Highness, so that if it mayseem to his high wisdom and most prudent discretion meet to move the Pope'sHoliness and the Court of Rome, amicably, charitably, and reasonably, tocompound either to extinct the said annates, or by some friendly, loving, and tolerable composition to moderate the same in such way as may be bythis his Realm easily borne and sustained, then those ways of compositiononce taken shall stand in the strength, force, and effect of a law. "[356]

The business of the session was closing. It remained to receive the replyof convocation on the limitation of its powers. The convocation, presuming, perhaps, upon its concessions on the annates question, and untamed by thepremunire, had framed their answer in the same spirit which had beenpreviously exhibited by the bishops. They had re-asserted their claims asresting on divine authority, and had declined to acknowledge the right ofany secular power to restrain or meddle with them. [357] The second answer, as may be supposed, fared no better than the first. It was returned with aperemptory demand for submission; and taught by experience the uselessnessof further opposition, the clergy with a bad grace complied. The form wasagain drawn by the bishops, and it is amusing to trace the workings oftheir humbled spirit in their reluctant descent from their high estate. They still laboured to protect their dignity in the terms of theirconcession:--

"As concerning such constitutions and ordinances provincial, " they wrote, "as shall be made hereafter by your most humble subjects, we having ourspecial trust and confidence in your most excellent wisdom, your princelygoodness, and fervent zeal for the promotion of God's honour and Christianreligion, and specially in your incomparable learning far exceeding in ourjudgment the learning of all other kings and princes that we have read of;and not doubting but that the same should still continue and daily increasein your Majesty; do offer and promise here unto the same, that fromhenceforth we shall forbear to enact, promulge, or put in execution anysuch constitutions and ordinances so by us to be made in time coming, unless your Highness by your Royal assent shall license us to make, promulge, and execute such constitutions, and the same so made be approvedby your Highness's authority. 

"And whereas your Highness's most honourable Commons do pretend that diversof the constitutions provincial, which have been heretofore enacted, be notonly much prejudicial to your Highness's prerogative royal, but be alsoovermuch onerous to your said Commons, we, your most humble servants forthe consideration before said, be contented to refer all the saidconstitutions to the judgment of your Grace only. And whatsoever of thesame shall finally be found prejudicial and overmuch onerous as ispretended, we offer and promise your Highness to moderate or utterly toabrogate and annul the same, according to the judgment of your Grace. Saving to us always such liberties and immunities of this Church of Englandas hath been granted unto the same by the goodness and benignity of yourHighness and of others your most noble progenitors; with such constitutionsprovincial as do stand with the laws of Almighty God and of your Realmheretofore made, which we most humbly beseech your Grace to ratify andapprove by your most Royal assent for the better execution of the same intimes to come. "[358]

The acknowledgment appeared to be complete, and might perhaps have beenaccepted without minute examination, except for the imprudent acuteness ofthe Lower House of Convocation. As it passed through their hands, theydiscovered--what had no doubt been intended as a loophole for futureevasion--that the grounds which were alleged to excuse the submission werethe virtues of the reigning king: and therefore, as they sagaciouslyargued, the submission must only remain in force for his life. Theyintroduced a limitation to that effect. Some further paltry dabbling wasalso attempted with the phraseology: and at length, impatient with suchdishonest trifling, and weary of a discussion in which they had resolved toallow but one conclusion, the king and the legislature thought it well tointerfere with a high hand, and cut short such unprofitable folly. Thelanguage of the bishops was converted into an act of parliament; a mixedcommission was appointed to revise the canon law, and the clergy with a fewbrief strokes were reduced for ever into their fit position ofsubjects. [359] Thus with a moderate hand this great revolution waseffected, and, to outward appearance, with offence to none except thesufferers, whose misuse of power when they possessed it deprived them ofall sympathy in their fall. 

But no change of so vast a kind can be other than a stone of stumbling tothose many persons for whom the beaten ways of life alone are tolerable, and who, when these ways are broken, are bewildered and lost. Religion, when men are under its influence at all, so absorbs their senses, and sopervades all their associations, that no faults in the ministers of it candivest their persons of reverence; and just and necessary as all thesealterations were, many a pious and noble heart was wounded, many a man wasasking himself in his perplexity where things would end, and still moresadly, where, if these quarrels deepened, would lie his own duty. Now theNun of Kent grew louder in her Cassandra wailings. Now the mendicant friarsmounted the pulpits exclaiming sacrilege; bold men, who feared nothing thatmen could do to them, and who dared in the king's own presence, and in hisown chapel, to denounce him by name. [360] The sacred associations of twelvecenturies were tumbling into ruin; and hot and angry as men had been beforethe work began, the hearts of numbers sank in them when they "saw what wasdone;" and they fell away slowly to doubt, disaffection, distrust, and atlast treason. 

The first outward symptom of importance pointing in this direction, was theresignation of the seals by Sir Thomas More. [361] More had not been anilliberal man; when he wrote the _Utopia_, he seemed even to be in advanceof his time. None could see the rogue's face under the cowl clearer thanhe, or the proud bad heart under the scarlet hat; and few men had venturedto speak their thoughts more boldly. But there was in More a want ofconfidence in human nature, a scorn of the follies of his fellow creatureswhich, as he became more earnestly religious, narrowed and hardened hisconvictions, and transformed the genial philosopher into the mercilessbigot. "Heresy" was naturally hateful to him; his mind was too clear andgenuine to allow him to deceive himself with the delusions of Anglicanism;and as he saw the inevitable tendency of the Reformation to lead ultimatelyto a change of doctrine, he attached himself with increasing determinationto the cause of the pope and of the old faith. As if with an instinctiveprescience of what would follow from it, he had from the first been opposedto the divorce; and he had not concealed his feeling from the king at thetime when the latter had pressed the seals on his unwilling acceptance. Inconsenting to become chancellor, he had yielded only to Henry's entreaties;he had held his office for two years and a half--and it would have beenwell for his memory if he had been constant in his refusal--for in hisineffectual struggles against the stream, he had attempted to counterpoisethe attack upon the church by destroying the unhappy Protestants. At theclose of the session, however, the acts of which we have just described, hefelt that he must no longer countenance, by remaining in an office so nearto the crown, measures which he so intensely disapproved and deplored; itwas time for him to retire from a world not moving to his mind; and in thefair tranquillity of his family prepare himself for the evil days which heforesaw. In May, 1532, he petitioned for permission to resign, resting hisrequest unobtrusively on failing health; and Henry sadly consented to losehis services. 

Parallel to More's retirement, and though less important, yet stillnoticeable, is a proceeding of old Archbishop Warham under the same tryingcircumstances. In the days of his prosperity, Warham had never reached togreatness as a man. He had been a great ecclesiastic, successful, dignified, important, but without those highest qualities which commandrespect or interest. The iniquities of Warham's spiritual courts weregreater than those of any other in England. He had not made them what theywere. They grew by their own proper corruption; and he was no moreresponsible for them than every man is responsible for the continuance ofan evil by which he profits, and which he has power to remedy. We must lookupon him as the leader of the bishops in their opposition to the reform;and he was the probable author of the famous answer to the Commons'petition, which led to such momentous consequences. [362] These consequenceshe had lived partially to see. Powerless to struggle against the stream, hehad seen swept away one by one those gigantic privileges to which he hadasserted for his order a claim divinely sanctioned; and he withdrew himselfheartbroken, into his palace at Lambeth, and there entered his solemnprotest against all which had been done. Too ill to write, and trembling onthe edge of the grave, he dictated to his notaries from his bed these notunaffecting words:--

"In the name of God, Amen. We, William, by Divine Providence Archbishop ofCanterbury, Primate of all England, Legate of the Apostolic See, herebypublicly and expressly do protest for ourselves and for our HolyMetropolitan Church of Canterbury, that to any statute passed or hereafterto be passed in this present Parliament, began the third of November, 1529, and continued until this present time; in so far as such statute orstatutes be in derogation of the Pope of Rome or the Apostolic See, or beto the hurt, prejudice, or limitation of the powers of the Church, or shalltend to the subverting, enervating, derogating from, or diminishing thelaws, customs, privileges, prerogatives, pre-eminence of liberties of ourMetropolitan Church of Canterbury; we neither will, nor intend, nor withclear conscience are able to consent to the same, but by these writings wedo dissent from, refuse, and contradict them. "[363]

Thus formally having delivered his soul, he laid himself down and died. 

CHAPTER V

MARRIAGE OF HENRY AND ANNE BOLEYN

Although in the question of the divorce the king had interfereddespotically to control the judgment of the universities, he had made noattempt, as we have seen, to check the tongues of the clergy. Nor if he haddesired to check them, is it likely that at the present stage ofproceedings he could have succeeded. No law had as yet been passed whichmade a crime of a difference of opinion on the pope's dispensing powers;and so long as no definitive sentence had been pronounced, every one hadfree liberty to think and speak as he pleased. So great, indeed, was theanxiety to disprove Catherine's assertion that England was a _locussuspectus_, and therefore that the cause could not be equitably triedthere, that even in the distribution of patronage there was an ostentatiousdisplay of impartiality. Not only had Sir Thomas More been made chancellor, although emphatically on Catherine's side; but Cuthbert Tunstal, who hadbeen her counsel, was promoted to the see of Durham. The Nun of Kent, ifher word was to be believed, had been offered an abbey, [364] and that Henrypermitted language to pass unnoticed of the most uncontrolled violence, appears from a multitude of informations which were forwarded to thegovernment from all parts of the country. But while imposing no restrainton the expression of opinion, the council were careful to keep themselveswell informed of the opinions which were expressed, and an instrument wasready made to their hands, which placed them in easy possession of whatthey desired. Among the many abominable practices which had been introducedby the ecclesiastical courts, not the least hateful was the system ofespionage with which they had saturated English society; encouragingservants to be spies on their masters, children on their parents, neighbours on their neighbours, inviting every one who heard languagespoken anywhere of doubtful allegiance to the church, to report the wordsto the nearest official, as an occasion of instant process. It is notwithout a feeling of satisfaction, that we find this detestable inventionrecoiling upon the heads of its authors. Those who had so long sufferedunder it, found an opportunity in the turning tide, of revenging themselveson their oppressors; and the country was covered with a ready-made army ofspies, who, with ears ever open, were on the watch for impatient ordisaffected language in their clerical superiors, and furnished steadyreports of such language to Cromwell. [365]

Specimens of these informations will throw curious light on the feelings ofa portion at least of the people. The English licence of speech, if notrecognised to the same extent as it is at present, was certainly as fullypractised. On the return of the Abbot of Whitby from the convocation atYork in the summer of 1532, when the premunire money was voted, thefollowing conversation was reported as having been overheard in the abbey. 

The prior of the convent asked the abbot what the news were. "What news, "said the abbot, "evil news. The king is ruled by a common ---- Anne Boleyn, who has made all the spiritualty to be beggared, and the temporalty also. Further he told the prior of a sermon that he had heard in York, in whichit was said, when a great wind rose in the west we should hear news. And heasked what that was; and he said a great man told him at York, and if heknew as much as three in England he would tell what the news were. And hesaid who were they? and he said the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Wiltshire, and the common ---- Anne Boleyn. "[366]

The dates of these papers cannot always be determined; this which follows, probably, is something later, but it shows the general temper in which theclergy were disposed to meet the measures of the government. 

"Robert Legate, friar of Furness, deposeth that the monks had a prophecyamong them, that 'in England shall be slain the decorate rose in hismother's belly, ' and this they interpret of his Majesty, saying that hisMajesty shall die by the hands of priests; for the church is the mother, and the church shall slay his Grace. The said Robert maintaineth that hehath heard the monks often say this. Also, it is said among them that theKing's Grace was not the right heir to the crown; for that his Grace'sfather came in by no line, but by the sword. Also, that no secular knaveshould be head of the church; also that the abbot did know of thesetreasons, and had made no report thereof. "[367]

Nor was it only in the remote abbeys of the North that such dangerouslanguage was ventured. The pulpit of St. Paul's rang Sunday after Sundaywith the polemics of the divorce; and if "the holy water of the court" madethe higher clergy cringing and cowardly, the rank and file, even in Londonitself, showed a bold English front, and spoke out their thoughts withentire recklessness. Among the preachers on Catherine's side, FatherForest, famous afterward in Catholic martyrologies, began to distinguishhimself. Forest was warden of a convent of Observants at Greenwich attachedto the royal chapel, and having been Catherine's confessor, remained, withthe majority of the friars, faithful to her interests, and fearless in theassertion of them. From their connection with the palace, the intercourseof these monks with the royal household was considerable; their positiongave them influence, and Anne Boleyn tried the power of her charms, ifpossible, to gain them over. She had succeeded with a few of the weakerbrothers, but she was unable (and her inability speaks remarkably forHenry's endurance of opposition through the early stages of thecontroversy) to protect those whose services she had won from the anger oftheir superiors. One monk in whom she was interested the wardenimprisoned, [368] another there was an effort to expel, [369] because he wasready to preach on her side; and Forest himself preached a violent sermonat Paul's Cross, attacking Cromwell and indirectly the king. [370] He wassent for to the court, and the persecuted brothers expected their triumph;but he returned, as one of them wrote bitterly to Cromwell, having beenreceived with respect and favour, as if, after all, the enmity of a braveman found more honour at the court than the complacency of cowardice. Father Forest, says this letter, has been with the king. "He says he spakewith the king for half an hour and more, and was well retained by hisGrace; and the King's Grace did send him a great piece of beef from his owntable; and also he met with my Lord of Norfolk, and he says he took him inhis arms and bade him welcome. "[371]

Forest, unfortunately for himself, misconstrued forbearance into fear, andwent his way at last, through treason and perjury, to the stake. In themeantime the Observants were left in possession of the royal chapel, theweak brother died in prison, and the king, when at Greenwich, continued toattend service, submitting to listen, as long as submission was possible, to the admonitions which the friars used the opportunity to deliver to him. 

In these more courteous days we can form little conception of the licencewhich preachers in the sixteenth century allowed themselves, or thelanguage which persons in high authority were often obliged to bear. Latimer spoke as freely to Henry VIII. Of neglected duties, as to thepeasants in his Wiltshire parish. St. Ambrose did not rebuke the EmperorTheodosius more haughtily than John Knox lectured Queen Mary and herministers on the vanities of Holyrood; and Catholic priests, it seems, werenot afraid to display even louder disrespect. 

On Sunday, the first of May, 1532, the pulpit at Greenwich was occupied byFather Peto, afterwards Cardinal Peto, famous through Europe as a Catholicincendiary; but at this time an undistinguished brother of the Observantsconvent. His sermon had been upon the story of Ahab and Naboth, and histext had been, "Where the dogs licked the blood of Naboth, even there shallthey lick thy blood, O king. " Henry, the court, and most likely Anne Boleynherself, were present; the first of May being the great holy-day of theEnglish year, and always observed at Greenwich with peculiar splendour. The preacher had dilated at length upon the crimes and the fall of Ahab, and had drawn the portrait in all its magnificent wickedness. He haddescribed the scene in the court of heaven, and spoken of the lyingprophets who had mocked the monarch's hopes before the fatal battle. At theend, he turned directly to Henry, and assuming to himself the mission ofMicaiah, he closed his address in the following audacious words:--"And now, O king, " he said, "hear what I say to thee. I am that Micaiah whom thouwilt hate, because I must tell thee truly that this marriage is unlawful, and I know that I shall eat the bread of affliction and drink the waters ofsorrow, yet because the Lord hath put it in my mouth I must speak it. There are other preachers, yea too many, which preach and persuade theeotherwise, feeding they folly and frail affections upon hopes of their ownworldly promotion; and by that means they betray thy soul, thy honour, andthy posterity; to obtain fat benefices, to become rich abbots and bishops, and I know not what. These I say are the four hundred prophets who, in thespirit of lying, seek to deceive thee. Take heed lest thou, being seduced, find Ahab's punishment, who had his blood licked up by the dogs. "

Henry must have been compelled to listen to many such invectives. He leftthe chapel without noticing what had passed; and in the course of the weekPeto went down from Greenwich to attend a provincial council at Canterbury, and perhaps to communicate with the Nun of Kent. Meantime a certain Dr. Kirwan was commissioned to preach on the other side of the question thefollowing Sunday. 

Kirwan was one of those men of whom the preacher spoke prophetically, sinceby the present and similar services he made his way to the archbishopric ofDublin and the bishopric of Oxford, and accepting the Erastian theory of aChristian's duty, followed Edward VI. Into heresy, and Mary into popery andpersecution. He regarded himself as an official of the state religion; andhis highest conception of evil in a Christian was disobedience to thereigning authority. We may therefore conceive easily the burden of hissermon in the royal chapel. "He most sharply reprehended Peto, " calling himfoul names, "dog, slanderer, base beggarly friar, rebel, and traitor, "saying "that no subject should speak so audaciously to his prince:" he"commended" Henry's intended marriage, "thereby to establish his seed inhis seat for ever;" and having won, as he supposed, his facile victory, heproceeded with his peroration, addressing his absent antagonist. "I speakto thee, Peto, " he exclaimed, "to thee, Peto, which makest thyself Micaiah, that thou mayest speak evil of kings; but now art not to be found, beingfled for fear and shame, as unable to answer my argument. " In the royalchapel at Greenwich there was more reality than decorum. A voice out of therood-loft cut short the eloquent declamation. "Good sir, " it said, "youknow Father Peto is gone to Canterbury to a provincial council, and notfled for fear of you; for to-morrow he will return again. In the meantime Iam here as another Micaiah, and will lay down my life to prove those thingstrue which he hath taught. And to this combat I challenge thee; theeKirwan, I say, who art one of the four hundred into whom the spirit oflying is entered, and thou seekest by adultery to establish the succession, betraying thy king for thy own vain glory into endless perdition. "

A scene of confusion followed, which was allayed at last by the kinghimself, who rose from his seat and commanded silence. It was thought thatthe limit of permissible licence had been transcended, and the followingday Peto and Elstowe, the other speaker, were summoned before the councilto receive a reprimand. Lord Essex told them they deserved to be sewn intoa sack and thrown into the Thames. "Threaten such things to rich and daintyfolk, which have their hope in this world, " answered Elstowe, gallantly, "we fear them not; with thanks to God we know the way to heaven to be asready by water as by land. "[372] Men of such metal might be broken, butthey could not be bent. The two offenders were hopelessly unrepentant andimpracticable, and it was found necessary to banish them. They retired toAntwerp, where we find them the following year busy procuring copies of theBishop of Rochester's book against the king, which was broadly disseminatedon the continent, and secretly transmitting them into England; in closecorrespondence also with Fisher himself, with Sir Thomas More, and for theill fortune of their friends, with the court at Brussels, between which andthe English Catholics the intercourse was dangerously growing. [373]

The Greenwich friars, with their warden, went also a bad way. The death ofthe persecuted brother was attended with circumstances in a high degreesuspicious. [374] Henry ordered an enquiry, which did not terminate in anyactual exposure; but a cloud hung over the convent, which refused to bedispelled; the warden was deposed, and soon after it was found necessary todissolve the order. 

If the English monks had shared as a body the character of the GreenwichObservants, of the Carthusians of London and Richmond, and of some otherestablishments, --which may easily be numbered, --the resistance which theymight have offered to the government, with the sympathy which it would havecommanded, would have formed an obstacle to the Reformation that no powercould have overcome. It was time, however, for the dissolution of themonasteries, when the few among them, which on other grounds might haveclaimed a right to survive, were driven by their very virtues into treason. The majority perished of their proper worthlessness; the few remainingcontrived to make their existence incompatible with the safety of thestate. 

Leaving for the present these disorders to mature themselves, I must nowreturn to the weary chapter of European diplomacy, to trace the tortuouscourse of popes and princes, duping one another with false hopes; sayingwhat they did not mean, and meaning what they did not say. It is a verySlough of Despond, through which we must plunge desperately as we may; andwe can cheer ourselves in this dismal region only by the knowledge that, although we are now approaching the spot where the mire is deepest, thehard ground is immediately beyond. 

We shall, perhaps, be able most readily to comprehend the position of thevarious parties in Europe, by placing them before us as they stoodseverally in the summer of 1532, and defining briefly the object which eachwas pursuing. 

Henry only, among the great powers, laid his conduct open to the world, declaring truly what he desired, and seeking it by open means. He wasdetermined to proceed with the divorce, and he was determined also tocontinue the Reformation of the English Church. If consistently with thesetwo objects he could avoid a rupture with the pope, he was sincerelyanxious to avoid it. He was ready to make great efforts, to risk greatsacrifices, to do anything short of surrendering what he considered ofvital moment, to remain upon good terms with the See of Rome. If hisefforts failed, and a quarrel was inevitable, he desired to secure himselfby a close maintenance of the French alliance; and having induced Francisto urge compliance upon the pope by a threat of separation if he refused, to prevail on him, in the event of the pope's continued obstinacy, to puthis threat in execution, and unite with England in a common schism. Allthis is plain and straightforward--Henry concealed nothing, and, in fact, had nothing to conceal. In his threats, his promises, and his entreaties, we feel entire certainty that he was speaking his real thoughts. 

The emperor's position, also, though not equally simple, is intelligible, and commands our respect. Although if he had consented to sacrifice hisaunt, he might have spared himself serious embarrassment; although both bythe pope and by the consistory such a resolution would probably have beenwelcomed with passionate thankfulness; yet at all hazards Charles wasdetermined to make her his first object, even with the risk of convulsingEurope. At the same time his position was encumbered with difficulty. TheTurks were pressing upon him in Hungary and in the Mediterranean; hisrelations with Francis--fortunately for the prospects of theReformation--were those of inveterate hostility; while in Germany he hadbeen driven to make terms with the Protestant princes; he had offended thepope by promising them a general council, in which the Lutheran divinesshould be represented; and the pope, taught by recent experience, was madeto fear that these symptoms of favour towards heresy, might convertthemselves into open support. 

With Francis the prevailing feeling was rivalry with the emperor, combinedwith an eager desire to recover his influence in Italy, and to restoreFrance to the position in Europe which had been lost by the defeat ofPavia, and the failure of Lautrec at Naples. This was his first object, towhich every other was subsidiary. He was disinclined to a rupture with thepope; but the possibility of such a rupture had been long contemplated byFrench statesmen. It was a contingency which the pope feared:--which thehopes of Henry pictured as more likely than it was--and Francis, like hisrivals in the European system, held the menace of it extended over thechair of St. Peter, to coerce its unhappy occupant into compliance with hiswishes. With respect to Henry's divorce, his conduct to the University ofParis, and his assurances repeated voluntarily on many occasions, show thathe was sincerely desirous to forward it. He did not care for Henry, or forEngland, or for the cause itself; he desired only to make the breachbetween Henry and Charles irreparable; to make it impossible for ever that"his two great rivals" should become friends together; and by inducing thepope to consent to the English demand, to detach the court of Romeconclusively from the imperial interests. 

The two princes who disputed the supremacy of Europe, were intriguing oneagainst the other, each desiring to constitute himself the champion of thechurch; and to compel the church to accept his services, by the threat ofpassing over to her enemies. By a dexterous use of the cards which were inhis hands, the King of France proposed to secure one of two alternatives. Either he would form a league between himself, Henry, and the pope, againstthe emperor, of which the divorce, and the consent to it, which he wouldextort from Clement, should be the cement; or, if this failed him, he wouldavail himself of the vantage ground which was given to him by the Englishalliance to obtain such concessions for himself at the emperor's expense asthe pope could be induced to make, and the emperor to tolerate. 

Such, in so far as I can unravel the web of the diplomatic correspondence, appear to have been the open positions and the secret purposes of the greatEuropean powers. 

There remains the fourth figure upon the board, the pope himself, labouringwith such means as were at his disposal to watch over the interests of thechurch, and to neutralise the destructive ambition of the princes, byplaying upon their respective selfishnesses. On the central question, thatof the divorce, his position was briefly this. Both the emperor and Henrypressed for a decision. If he decided for Henry, he lost Germany; if hedecided for Catherine, while Henry was supported by Francis, France andEngland threatened both to fall from him. It was therefore necessary forhim to induce the emperor to consent to delay, while he worked upon theKing of France; and, if France and England could once be separated, hetrusted that Henry would yield in despair. This most subtle and difficultpolicy reveals itself in the transactions open and secret of the ensuingyears. It was followed with a dexterity as extraordinary as itsunscrupulousness, and with all but perfect success. That it failed at all, in the ordinary sense of failure, was due to the accidental delay of acourier; and Clement, while he succeeded in preserving the allegiance ofFrance to the Roman see, succeeded also--and this is no small thing to haveaccomplished--in weaving the most curious tissue of falsehood which will bemet with even in the fertile pages of Italian subtlety. 

With this general understanding of the relation between the great partiesin the drama, let us look to their exact position in the summer of 1532. 

Charles was engaged in repelling an invasion of the Turks, with ananarchical Germany in his rear, seething with fanatical anabaptists, andclamouring for a general council. 

Henry and Francis had been called upon to furnish a contingent againstSolyman, and had declined to act with the emperor. They had undertaken toconcert their own measures between themselves, if it proved necessary forthem to move; and in the meantime Cardinal Grammont and Cardinal Tournonwere sent by Francis to Rome, to inform Clement that unless he gave averdict in Henry's favour, the Kings of France and England, being _unemesme chose_, would pursue some policy with respect to him, [375] to whichhe would regret that he had compelled them to have recourse. So far theirinstructions were avowed and open. A private message revealed the secretmeans by which the pope might escape from his dilemma; the cardinals wereto negotiate a marriage between the Duke of Orleans and the pope's niece(afterwards so infamously famous), Catherine de Medicis. The marriage, asFrancis represented it to Henry, was beneath the dignity of a prince ofFrance, he had consented to it, as he professed, only for Henry'ssake;[376] but the pope had made it palatable by a secret article in theengagement, for the grant of the duchy of Milan as the lady's dowry. 

Henry, threatened as we have seen with domestic disturbance, and withfurther danger on the side of Scotland, which Charles had succeeded inagitating, concluded, on the 23rd of June, a league, offensive anddefensive, with Francis, the latter engaging to send a fleet into theChannel, and to land 15, 000 troops in England if the emperor should attemptan invasion from the sea. [378] For the better consolidation of this league, and to consult upon the measures which they would pursue on the greatquestions at issue in Christendom, and lastly to come to a finalunderstanding on the divorce, it was agreed further that in the autumn thetwo kings should meet at Calais. The conditions of the interview were stillunarranged on the 22nd of July, when the Bishop of Paris, who remainedambassador at the English court, wrote to Montmorency to suggest that AnneBoleyn should be invited to accompany the King of England on this occasion, and that she should be received in state. The letter was dated fromAmpthill, to which Henry had escaped for a while from his Greenwich friarsand other troubles, and where the king was staying a few weeks before thehouse was given up to Queen Catherine. Anne Boleyn was with him; she now, as a matter of course, attended him everywhere. Intending her, as he did, to be the mother of the future heir to his crown, he preserved what istechnically called her honour unimpeached and unimpaired. In all otherrespects she occupied the position and received the homage due to theactual wife of the English sovereign; and in this capacity it was thedesire of Henry that she should be acknowledged by a foreign prince. 

The bishop's letter on this occasion is singularly interesting anddescriptive. The court were out hunting, he said, every day; and while theking was pursuing the heat of the chase, he and Mademoiselle Anne wereposted together, each with a crossbow, at the point to which the deer wasto be driven. The young lady, in order that the appearance of her reverendcavalier might correspond with his occupation, had made him a present of ahunting cap and frock, a horn and a greyhound. Her invitation to Calais hepressed with great earnestness, and suggested that Marguerite de Valois, the Queen of Navarre, should be brought down to entertain her. The Queen ofFrance being a Spaniard, would not, he thought, be welcome: "the sight of aSpanish dress being as hateful in the King of England's eyes as the devilhimself. " In other respects the reception should be as magnificent aspossible, "and I beseech you, " he concluded, "keep out of the court, _deuxsortes de gens_, the imperialists, and the wits and mockers; the Englishcan endure neither of them. "[379]

Through the tone of this language the contempt is easily visible with whichthe affair was regarded in the French court. But for Francis to receive inpublic the rival of Queen Catherine, to admit her into his family, and tobring his sister from Paris to entertain her, was to declare in the face ofEurope, in a manner which would leave no doubt of his sincerity, that heintended to countenance Henry. With this view only was the reception ofAnne desired by the King of England; with this view it was recommended bythe bishop, and assented to by the French court. Nor was this the onlyproof which Francis was prepared to give, that he was in earnest. He hadpromised to distribute forty thousand crowns at Rome, in bribing cardinalsto give their voices for Henry in the consistory, with other possiblebenefactions. [380]

He had further volunteered his good offices with the court of Scotland, where matters were growing serious, and where his influence could be usedto great advantage. The ability of James the Fifth to injure Henry happilyfell short of his inclination, but encouraged by secret promises fromClement and from the emperor, he was waiting his opportunity to cross theBorder with an army; and in the meantime he was feeding with efficientsupport a rebellion in Ireland. Of what was occurring at this time in thatperennially miserable country I shall speak in a separate chapter. It ishere sufficient to mention, that on the 23rd of August, Henry receivedinformation that McConnell of the Isles, after receiving knighthood fromJames, had been despatched into Ulster with four thousand men, [381] and wasfollowed by Mackane with seven thousand more on the 3rd of September. [382]Peace with England nominally continued; but the Kers, the Humes, the Scottsof Buccleugh, the advanced guard of the Marches, were nightly making foraysacross the Border, and open hostilities appeared to be on the point ofexplosion. [383] If war was to follow, Henry was prepared for it. He had apowerful force at Berwick, and in Scotland itself a large party weresecretly attached to the English interests. The clan of Douglas, with theiradherents, were even prepared for open revolt, and open transfer ofallegiance. [384] But, although Scottish nobles might be gained over, andScottish armies might be defeated in the field, Scotland itself, as theexperience of centuries had proved, could never be conquered. The policy ofthe Tudors had been to abstain from aggression, till time should havesoothed down the inherited animosity between the two countries; and Henrywas unwilling to be forced into extremities which might revive the bittermemories of Flodden. The Northern counties also, in spite of their Borderprejudices, were the stronghold of the papal party, and it was doubtful howfar their allegiance could be counted upon in the event of an invasionsanctioned by the pope. The hands of the English government were alreadyfull without superadded embarrassment, and the offered mediation of Franciswas gratefully welcomed. 

These were the circumstances under which the second great interview was totake place between Francis the First and Henry of England. [385] Twelveyears had passed since their last meeting, and the experience which thoseyears had brought to both of them, had probably subdued their inclinationfor splendid pageantry. Nevertheless, in honour of the occasion, some faintrevival was attempted of the magnificence of the Field of the Cloth ofGold. Anne Boleyn was invited duly; and the Queen of Navarre, as the Bishopof Paris recommended, came down to Boulogne to receive her. The Frenchprinces came also to thank Henry in person for their deliverance out oftheir Spanish prison; and he too, on his side, brought with him his youngMarcellus, the Duke of Richmond, his only son--illegitimateunfortunately--but whose beauty and noble promise were at once his father'smisery and pride; giving point to his bitterness at the loss of his sons byCatherine; quickening his hopes of what might be, and deepening hisdiscontent with that which was. If this boy had lived, he would have beennamed to follow Edward the Sixth in the succession, and would have beenKing of England;[386] but he too passed away in the flower of hisloveliness, one more evidence of the blight which rested upon the stem ofthe Tudors. 

The English court was entertained by Francis at Boulogne. The French courtwas received in return at Calais by the English. The outward description ofthe scene, the magnificent train of the princes, the tournaments, thefeasts, the dances, will be found minutely given in the pages of Hall, andneed not be repeated here. To Hall indeed, the outward life of men, theirexploits in war, and their pageantries in peace, alone had meaning orinterest; and the backstairs secrets of Vatican diplomacy, the questioningsof opinion, and all the brood of mental sicknesses then beginning todistract the world, were but impertinent interferences with the truebusiness of existence. But the healthy objectiveness of an old Englishchronicler is no longer possible for us; we may envy where we cannotimitate; and our business is with such features of the story as are ofmoment to ourselves. 

The political questions which were to be debated at the conference, werethree; the Turkish Invasion, the General Council, and King Henry's divorce. 

On the first, it was decided that there was no immediate occasion forFrance and England to move. Solyman's retreat from Vienna had relievedEurope from present peril; and the enormous losses which he had suffered, might prevent him from repeating the experiment. If the danger became againimminent, however, the two kings agreed to take the field in person thefollowing year at the head of eighty thousand men. 

On the second point they came to no conclusion, but resolved only to act incommon. 

On the third and most important, they parted with a belief that theyunderstood each other; but their memories, or the memory of one of them, proved subsequently treacherous; and we can only extract what passedbetween them out of their mutual recriminations. 

It was determined certainly that at the earliest convenient moment, ameeting should take place between the pope and Francis; and that at thismeeting Francis should urge in person concession to Henry's demands. If thepope professed himself unable to risk the displeasure of the emperor, itshould be suggested that he might return to Avignon, where he would besecure under the protection of France and England. If he was stillreluctant, and persisted in asserting his right to compel Henry to pleadbefore him at Rome, or if he followed up his citations by inhibitions, suspensions, excommunications, or other form of censure, Francis declaredthat he would support Henry to the last, whether against the pope himselfor against any prince or potentate who might attempt to enforce thesentence. On this point the promises of the King of France were mostprofuse and decided; and although it was not expressly stated in words, Henry seems to have persuaded himself that, if the pope pressed matters toextremities, Francis had engaged further that the two countries shouldpursue a common course, and unite in a common schism. The two princes didin fact agree, that if the general council which they desired was refused, they would summon provincial councils on their own authority. Each of themperhaps interpreted their engagements by their own wishes orinterests. [387]

We may further believe, since it was affirmed by Henry, and not denied byFrancis, that the latter advised Henry to bring the dispute to a close, bya measure from which he could not recede; that he recommended him to act onthe general opinion of Europe that his marriage with Queen Catherine wasnull, and at once upon his return to England to make Anne Boleyn hiswife. [388]

So far the account is clear. This advice was certainly given, and ascertainly Francis undertook to support Henry through all the consequencesin which the marriage might involve him. But a league for mutual defencefell short of what Henry desired, and fell short also of what Francis, bythe warmth of his manner, had induced Henry for the moment to believe thathe meant. It is probable that the latter pressed upon him engagements whichhe avoided by taking refuge in general professions; and no sooner had Henryreturned to England, than either misgivings occurred to him as to thesubstantial results of the interview, or he was anxious to make the Frenchking commit himself more definitely. He sent to him to beg that he wouldeither write out, or dictate and sign, the expressions which he had used;professing to wish it only for the comfort which he would derive from thecontinual presence of such refreshing words--but surely for some deeperreason. [389]

Francis had perhaps said more than he meant; Henry supposed him to havemeant more than he said. Yet some promise was made, which was notafterwards observed; and Francis acknowledged some engagement in an apologywhich he offered for the breach of it. He asserted, in defence of himself, that he had added a stipulation which Henry passed over in silence, --thatno steps should be taken towards annulling the marriage with Catherine inthe English law courts until the effect had been seen of his interview withthe pope, provided the pope on his side remained similarly inactive. [390]Whatever it was which he had bound himself to do, this condition, if madeat all, could be reconciled only with his advice that Henry should marryAnne Boleyn without further delay, on the supposition that the interview inquestion was to take place immediately; for the natural consequences of thesecond marriage would involve, as a matter of course, some speedy legaldeclaration with respect to the first. And when on various pretexts thepope postponed the meeting, and on the other part of his suggestion Henryhad acted within a few months of his return from Calais, it becameimpossible that such a condition could be observed. It availed for a formalexcuse; but Francis vainly endeavoured to disguise his own infirmity ofpurpose behind the language of a negotiation which conveyed, when it wasused, a meaning widely different. 

The conference was concluded on the 1st of November, but the court wasdetained at Calais for a further fortnight by violent gales in the Channel. In the excited state of public feeling, events in themselves ordinaryassumed a preternatural significance. The friends of Queen Catherine, towhom the meeting between the kings was of so disastrous augury, and thenation generally, which an accident to Henry at such a time would haveplunged into a chaos of confusion, alike watched the storm with anxiousagitation; on the king's return to London, Te Deums were offered in thechurches, as if for his deliverance from some extreme and imminent peril. The Nun of Kent on this great occasion was admitted to conferences withangels. She denounced the meeting, under celestial instruction, as aconspiracy against Heaven. The king, she said, but for her interposition, would have proceeded, while at Calais, to his impious marriage;[391] andGod was so angry with him, that he was not permitted to profane with hisunholy eyes the blessed Sacrament. "It was written in her revelations, "says the statute of her attainder, "that when the King's Grace was atCalais, and his Majesty and the French king were hearing mass in the Churchof Our Lady, that God was so displeased with the King's Highness, that hisGrace saw not at that time the blessed sacrament in the form of bread, forit was taken away from the priest, being at mass, by an angel, and wasministered to the said Elizabeth, there being present and invisible, andsuddenly conveyed and rapt thence again into the nunnery where she wasprofessed. "[392]

She had an interview with Henry on his return through Canterbury, to trythe effect of her Cassandra presence on his fears;[393] but if he stilldelayed his marriage, it was probably neither because he was frightened byher denunciations, nor from alarm at the usual occurrence of an equinoctialstorm. Many motives combined to dissuade him from further hesitation. Sixyears of trifling must have convinced him that by decisive action alone hecould force the pope to a conclusion. He was growing old, and theexigencies of the succession, rendered doubly pressing by the longagitation, required immediate resolution. He was himself satisfied that hewas at liberty to marry whom he pleased and when he pleased, hisrelationship to Catherine, according to his recent convictions, being suchas had rendered his connection with her from the beginning invalid andvoid. His own inclinations and the interests of the nation pointed to thesame course. The King of France had advised it. Even the pope himself, atthe outset of the discussion, had advised it also. "Marry freely, " the popehad said; "fear nothing, and all shall be arranged as you desire. " He hadforborne to take the pope at his word; he had hoped that the justice of hisdemands might open a less violent way to him; and he had shrunk from a stepwhich might throw even a causeless shadow over the legitimacy of theoffspring for which he longed. The case was now changed; no otheralternative seemed to be open to his choice, and it was necessary to bringthe matter to a close once and for all. 

But Henry, as he said himself, was past the age when passion or appetitewould be likely to move him, and having waited so many years, he couldafford to wait a little longer, till the effects of the Calais conferencesupon the pope should have had time to show themselves. In December, Clementwas to meet the emperor at Bologna. In the month following, it might behoped that he would meet Francis at Marseilles or Avignon, and from theirinterview would be seen conclusively the future attitude of the papal andimperial courts. Experience of the past forbade anything like sanguineexpectation; yet it was not impossible that the pope might be compelled atlast to yield the required concessions. The terms of Henry's understandingwith Francis were not perhaps made public, but he was allowed to dictatethe language which the French cardinals were to make use of in theconsistory;[394] and the reception of Anne Boleyn by the French king wasequivalent to the most emphatic declaration that if the censures of thechurch were attempted in defence of Catherine, the enforcement of themwould be resisted by the combined arms of France and England. 

And the pope did in fact feel himself in a dilemma from which all hisaddress was required to extricate him. He had no support from hisconscience, for he knew that he was acting unjustly in refusing thedivorce; while to risk the emperor's anger, which was the only honestcourse before him, was perhaps for that very reason impossible. He fellback upon his Italian cunning, and it did not fail him in his need. But hisconduct, though creditable to his ingenuity, reflects less pleasantly onhis character; and when it is traced through all its windings, fewreasonable persons will think that they have need to blush at the causeswhich led to the last breach between England and the papacy. 

From the time of Catherine's appeal and the retirement of Campeggio, Clement, with rare exceptions, had maintained an attitude of impassivereserve. He had allowed judgment to be delayed on various pretexts, becauseuntil that time delay had answered his purposes sufficiently. But to theEnglish agents he had been studiously cold, not condescending even to holdout hopes to them that concession might be possible. Some little timebefore the meeting at Calais, however, a change was observed in thelanguage both of the pope himself and of the consistory. The cardinals werevisibly afraid of the position which had been taken by the French king;questions supposed to be closed were once more admitted to debate in amanner which seemed to show that their resolution was wavering; and oneday, at the close of a long argument, the following curious conversationtook place between some person (Sir Gregory Cassalis, apparently), whoreported it to Henry, and Clement himself. "I had desired a privateinterview with his Holiness, " says the writer, "intending to use all myendeavours to persuade him to satisfy your Majesty. But although I did mybest, I could obtain nothing from him; he had an answer for everythingwhich I advanced, and it was in vain that I laboured to remove hisdifficulties. At length, however, in reply to something which I hadproposed, he said shortly, --Multo minus scandalosum fuisset dispensare cummajestate vestrâ super duabus uxoribus, quam ea cedere quæ ego petebam, _itwould have created less scandal to have granted your Majesty a dispensationto have two wives than to concede what I was then demanding_. As I did notknow how far this alternative would be pleasing to your Majesty, Iendeavoured to divert him from it, and to lead him back to what I had beenpreviously saying. He was silent for a while, and then, paying no regard tomy interruption, he continued to speak of the 'two wives, ' admittinghowever that there were difficulties in the way of such an arrangement, principally it seemed because the emperor would refuse his consent from thepossible injury which it might create to his cousin's prospects of thesuccession. I replied, that as to the succession, I could not see whatright the emperor had to a voice upon the matter. If some lawful meanscould be discovered by which your Majesty could furnish yourself with maleoffspring, the emperor could no more justly complain than if the queen wereto die and the prospects of the princess were interfered with by a secondmarriage of an ordinary kind. To this the pope made no answer. I cannottell what your Majesty will think, nor how far this suggestion of the popewould be pleasing to your Majesty. Nor indeed can I feel sure, inconsequence of what he said about the emperor, that he actually would grantthe dispensation of which he spoke. I have thought it right, however, toinform you of what passed. "[395]

This letter is undated, but it was written, as appears from internalevidence, some time in the year 1532. [396]

The pope's language was ambiguous, and the writer did not allow himself toderive from it any favourable augury; but the tone in which the suggestionshad been made was by many degrees more favourable than had been heard for avery long time in the quarter from which they came, and the symptoms whichit promised of a change of feeling were more than confirmed in thefollowing winter. 

Charles was to be at Bologna in the middle of December, where he was todiscuss with Clement the situation of Europe, and in particular of Germany, with the desirableness of fulfilling the engagements into which he hadentered for a general council. 

This was the avowed object of the meeting. But, however important thequestion of holding a council was becoming, it was not immediatelypressing; and we cannot doubt that the disquiet occasioned by the allianceof England and France was the cause that the conference was held at soinconvenient a season. The pope left Rome on the 18th of November, havingin his train a person who afterwards earned for himself a dark name inEnglish history, Dr. Bonner, then a famous canon lawyer attached to theembassy. The journey in the wild weather was extremely miserable; andBonner, whose style was as graphic as it was coarse, sent home a humorousaccount of it to Cromwell. [397] Three wretched weeks the party were uponthe road, plunging through mire and water. They reached Bologna on the 8thof December, where, four days after them, arrived Charles V. It isimportant, as we shall presently see, to observe the dates of thesemovements. I shall have to compare with them the successive issues ofseveral curious documents. On the 12th of December the pope and the emperormet at Bologna; on the 24th Dr. Bennet, Henry's able secretary, who hadbeen despatched from England to be present at the conference, wrote toreport the result of his observations. He had been admitted to repeatedinterviews with the pope, as well before as after the emperor's arrival;and the language which the former made use of could only be understood, andwas of course intended to be understood, as expressing the attitude inwhich he was placing himself towards the imperial faction. Bennet's letterwas as follows:--

"I have been sundry and many times with the pope, as well afore the comingof the emperour as sythen, yet I have not at any time found his Holinessmore tractable or propense to show gratuity unto your Highness than now oflate, --insomuch that he hath more freely opened his mind than he wasaccustomed, and said also that he would speak with me frankly without anyobservance or respect at all. At which time, I greatly lamented (yourHighness's cause being so just) no means could be found and taken tosatisfy your Highness therein; and I said also that I doubted not but that(if his Holiness would) ways might be found by his wisdom, now at theemperour's being with him, to satisfy your Highness; and that done, hisHoliness should not only have your Highness in as much or more friendshipthan he hath had heretofore, but also procure thereby that thing which hisHoliness hath chiefly desired, which is, as he hath said, a universalconcord among the princes of Christendom. His Holiness answered, that hewould it had cost him a joint of his hand that such a way might beexcogitate; and he said also, that the best thing which he could see to bedone therein at this present, for a preparation to that purpose, was thething which is contained in the first part of the cipher. [398] Speaking ofthe justness of your cause, he called to his remembrance the thing which hetold me two years past; which was, that the opinion of the lawyers was morecertain, favourable, and helping to your cause than the opinion of thedivines; for he said that as far as he could perceive, the lawyers, thoughthey held quod Papa possit dispensare in this case, yet they commonly doagree quod hoc fieri debeat ex maximâ causâ, adhibitâ causæ cognitione, which in this case doth not appear; and he said, that to come to the truthherein he had used all diligence possible, and enquired the opinion oflearned men, being of fame and indifferency both in the court here and inother places. And his Holiness promised me that he would herein use allgood policy and dexterity to imprint the same in the emperour's head; whichdone, he reckoneth many things to be invented that may be pleasant andprofitable to your Highness; adding yet that this is not to be done with afury, but with leisure and as occasion shall serve, lest if he shouldotherwise do, he should let and hinder that good effect which peradventuremight ensue thereby. "[399]

This letter has all the character of truth about it. The secretary had nointerest in deceiving Henry, and it is quite certain that, whether honestlyor not, the pope had led him to believe that his sympathies were again onthe English side, and that he was using his best endeavours to subdue theemperor's opposition. 

On the 26th of December, two days later, Sir Gregory Cassalis, who had alsofollowed the papal court to Bologna, wrote to the same effect. He, too, hadbeen with the pope, who had been very open and confidential with him. Theemperor, the pope said, had complained of the delay in the process, but hehad assured him that it was impossible for the consistory to do more thanit had done. The opinion of the theologians was on the whole against thepapal power of dispensation in cases of so close relationship; of the canonlawyers part agreed with the theologians, and those who differed from themwere satisfied that such a power might not be exercised unless there weremost urgent cause, unless, that is, the safety of a kingdom were dependentupon it. Such occasion he had declared that he could not find to haveexisted for the dispensation granted by his predecessor. The emperor hadreplied that there had been such occasion: the dispensation had beengranted to prevent war between Spain and England; and that otherwise greatcalamities would have befallen both countries. But this was manifestlyuntrue; and his Holiness said that he had answered, It was a pity, then, that these causes had not been submitted at the time, as the reason for thedemand, which it was clear that they had not been: as the case stood, itwas impossible for him to proceed further. Upon which he added, "Se vidisseCæsarem obstupefactum. " "I write the words, " continued Sir Gregory, "exactly as the pope related them to me. Whether he really spoke in thisway, I cannot tell; of this, however, I am sure, that on the day of ourconversation he had taken the blessed sacrament. He assured me further, that he had laboured to induce the emperor to permit him to satisfy yourMajesty. I recommended him that when next the emperor spoke with him uponthe subject, he should enter at greater length on the question of_justice_, and that some other person should be present at the conference, that there might be no room left for suspicion. "[400]

The manner of Clement was so unlike what Cassalis had been in the habitof witnessing in him, that he was unable, as we see, wholly to persuadehimself that the change was sincere: the letter, however, was despatchedto England, and was followed in a few days by Bonner, who broughtwith him the result of the pope's good will in the form of definitepropositions--instructions of similar purport having been forwarded at thesame time to the papal nuncio in England. The pope, so Henry was informed, was now really well disposed to do what was required; he had urged upon theemperor the necessity of concessions, and the cause might be settled in oneof two ways, to either of which he was himself ready to consent. Catherinehad appealed against judgment being passed in England, as a place which wasnot indifferent. Henry had refused to allow his cause to be heard anywherebut in his own realm; pleading first his privilege as a sovereign prince;and secondly, his exemption as an Englishman. [401] The pope, withappearance of openness, now suggested that Henry should either "send amandate requiring the remission of his cause to an indifferent place, inwhich case he would himself surrender his claim to have it tried in thecourts at Rome, and would appoint a legate and two auditors to hear thetrial elsewhere;" or else, a truce of three or four years being concludedbetween England, France, and Spain, the pope would "with all celerityindict a general council, to which he would absolutely and wholly remit theconsideration of the question. "[402]

Both proposals carried on their front a show of fair dealing, and ifhonestly proffered, were an evidence that something more might at length behoped than words. But the true obstacle to a settlement lay, as had beenlong evident, rather in the want of an honest will, than in legaldifficulties or uncertainty as to the justice of the cause; and whileneither of the alternatives as they stood were admissible or immediatelydesirable, there were many other roads, if the point of honesty were oncemade good, which would lead more readily to the desired end. Once for allHenry could not consent to plead out of England; while an appeal to acouncil would occupy more time than the condition of the country couldconveniently allow. But the offer had been courteously made; it had beenaccompanied with language which might be sincere; and the king replied withgrace, and almost with cordiality; not wholly giving Clement hisconfidence, but expressing a hope that he might soon be no longer justifiedin withholding it. He was unable, he said, to accept the first condition, because it was contrary to his coronation oath; "it so highly touched theprerogative royal of the realm, that though he were minded to do it, yetmust he abstain without the assent of the court of parliament, which hethought verily would never condescend to it. "[403] The other suggestion hedid not absolutely reject, but the gathering of a council was too serious amatter to be precipitated, and the situation of Christendom presented manyobstacles to a measure which would be useless unless it were carriedthrough by all the great powers in a spirit of cordial unanimity. Hetrusted therefore that if the pope's intentions were really such as hepretended to entertain, he would find some method more convenient ofproving his sincerity. 

It was happy for Henry that experience had taught him to be distrustful. Events proved too clearly that Clement's assumed alteration of tone was nomore than a manoeuvre designed to entice him to withdraw from the positionin which he had entrenched himself, and to induce him to acknowledge thathe was amenable to an earthly authority exterior to his own realm. [404] Inhis offer to refer the cause to a general council, he proved that he wasinsincere, when in the following year he refused to allow a council to be avalid tribunal for the trial of it. The course which he would have followedif the second alternative had been accepted, may be conjectured from themeasures which, as I shall presently show, he was at this very momentsecretly pursuing. Henry, however, had happily resolved that he would betrifled with no further; he felt instinctively that only action would cutthe net in which he was entangled; and he would not hesitate any longer totake a step which, in one way or another, must bring the weary question toa close. If the pope meant well, he would welcome a resolution which madefurther procrastination impossible; if he did not mean well, he could notbe permitted to dally further with the interests of the English nation. Within a few days, therefore, of Bonner's return from Bologna, he took thefinal step from which there was no retreat, and "somewhere about St. Paul'sday, "[405] Anne Boleyn received the prize for which she had thirsted sevenlong years, in the hand of the King of England. The ceremony was private. No authentic details are known either of the scene of it or thecircumstances under which it took place; but it is said to have beenperformed by the able Rowland Lee, Bishop of Lichfield, summoned up for thepurpose from the Welsh Marches, of which he was warden. It was done, however--in one way or other finally done--the cast was thrown, and a matchwas laid to the train which now at length could explode the spell ofintrigue, and set Henry and England free. 

We have arrived at a point from which the issue of the labyrinth is clearlyvisible. The course of it has been very dreary; and brought in contact aswe have been with so much which is painful, so much which is discreditableto all parties concerned, we may perhaps have lost our sense of the broadbearings of the question in indiscriminate disgust. It will be well, therefore, to pause for a moment to recapitulate those features of thestory which are the main indications of its character, and may serve toguide our judgment in the censure which we shall pass. 

It may be admitted, or it ought to be admitted, that if Henry VIII. Hadbeen contented to rest his demand for a divorce merely on the interests ofthe kingdom, if he had forborne, while his request was pending, to affrontthe princess who had for many years been his companion and his queen; if hehad shown her that respect which her high character gave her a right todemand, and which her situation as a stranger ought to have made itimpossible to him to refuse; his conduct would have been liable to noimputation, and our sympathies would without reserve have been on his side. He could not have been expected to love a person to whom he had beenmarried as a boy for political convenience, merely because she was hiswife; especially when she was many years his senior in age, disagreeable inher person, and by the consciousness of it embittered in her temper. Hiskingdom demanded the security of a stable succession; his conscience, itmay not be doubted, was seriously agitated by the loss of his children; andlooking upon it as the sentence of Heaven upon a connection, the legalityof which had from the first been violently disputed, he believed that hehad been living in incest, and that his misfortunes were the consequence ofit. Under these circumstances he had a full right to apply for adivorce. [406]

The causa urgentissima of the canon law for which, by the pope's ownshowing, the dispensing powers had been granted to him, had arisen in anextreme form; and when the vital interests of England were sacrificed tothe will of a foreign prince, sufficient reason had arisen for the nationto decline submission to so emphatic injustice, and to seek within itselfits own remedies for its own necessities. These considerations must beallowed all their weight; and except for them, it is not to be supposedthat Henry would have permitted private distaste or inclination to inducehim to create a scandal in Europe. In his conduct, however, as in that ofmost men, good was chequered with evil, and sincerity with self-deception. Personal feeling can be traced from the first, holding a subsidiary, indeed, but still an influential place, among his motives; and exactly sofar as he was influenced by it, his course was wrong, as the consequencemiserably proved. The position which, in his wife's presence, he assignedto another woman, however he may have persuaded himself that Catherine hadno claim to be considered his wife, admits neither of excuse nor ofpalliation; and he ought never to have shared his throne with a person whoconsented to occupy that position. He was blind to the coarseness of AnneBoleyn, because, in spite of his chivalry, his genius, his accomplishments, in his relations with women he was without delicacy himself. He directed, or attempted to direct, his conduct by the broad rules of what he thoughtto be just; and in the wide margin of uncertain ground where rules ofaction cannot be prescribed, and where men must guide themselves byconsideration for the feelings of others, he--so far as women wereconcerned--was altogether or almost a stranger. Such consideration is avirtue which can be learned only in the society of equals, where necessityobliges men to practise it. Henry had been a king from his boyhood; he hadbeen surrounded by courtiers who had anticipated all his desires; andexposed as he was to an ordeal from which no human being could have escapeduninjured, we have more cause, after all, to admire him for thoseexcellences which he conquered for himself, than to blame the defects whichhe retained. 

But if in his private relations the king was hasty and careless, towardsthe pope to whom we must now return, he exhausted all resources offorbearance: and although, when separation from Rome was at length forcedupon him, he then permitted no half measures, and swept into his new careerwith the strength of irresistible will, it was not till he had shownresolution no less great in the endurance of indignity; and of the threegreat powers in Europe, the prince who was compelled to break the unity ofthe Catholic church, was evidently the only one who was capable of realsacrifices to preserve it unbroken. Clement comprehended his reluctance, but presumed too far upon it; and if there was sin in the "great schism" ofthe Reformation, the guilt must rest where it is due. We have now to showthe reverse side of the transactions at Bologna, and explain what a personwearing the title of his Holiness, in virtue of his supposed sanctity, hadbeen secretly doing. 

In January, 1532, some little time before his conversation with Sir GregoryCassalis on the subject of the two wives, the pope had composed a pastoralletter to Henry, which had never been issued. From its contents it wouldseem to have been written on the receipt of an indignant remonstrance ofQueen Catherine, in which she had complained of her desertion by herhusband, and of the public position which had been given to her rival. Shehad supposed (and it was the natural mistake of an embittered and injuredwoman) that Anne Boleyn had been placed in possession of the rights of anactual, and not only of an intended wife; and the pope, accepting heraccount of the situation, had written to implore the king to abstain, solong as the cause remained undetermined, from creating so great a scandalin Christendom, and to restore his late queen to her place at his side. This letter, as it was originally written, was one of Clement's happiestcompositions. [407] He abstained in it from using any expression which couldbe construed into a threat: he appealed to Henry's honourable character, which no blot had hitherto stained; and dwelling upon the general confusionof the Christian world, he urged with temperate earnestness the ill effectswhich would be produced by so open a defiance of the injunctions of theHoly See in a person of so high a position. So far all was well. Henry haddeserved that such a letter should be written to him; and the pope was morethan justified in writing it. The letter, however, if it was sent, producedno effect, and on the 15th of November, three days before Clement'sdeparture to Bologna, where he pretended (we must not forget) that heconsidered Henry substantially right; he added a postscript, in a tone notcontrasting only with his words to the ambassadors, but with the languageof the brief itself. 

Again urging Henry's delinquencies, his separation from his wife, and thescandal of his connection with another person, he commanded him, underpenalty of excommunication, within one month of the receipt of thoseinjunctions, to restore the queen to her place, and to abstainthenceforward from all intercourse with Anne Boleyn pending the issue ofthe trial. "Otherwise, " the pope continued, "when the said term shall haveelapsed, we pronounce thee, Henry King of England, and the said Anne, to be_ipso facto_ excommunicate, and command all men to shun and avoid yourpresence; and although our mind shrinks from allowing such a thought ofyour Serenity, although by ourselves and by our auditory of the Rota aninhibition has been already issued against you; although the act of whichyou are suspected be in itself forbidden by all laws human and divine, yetthe reports which are brought to us do so move us, that once more we doinhibit you from dissolving your marriage with the aforesaid Catherine, orfrom continuing process, in your own courts, of divorce from her. And we doalso hereby warn you, that you presume not to contract any new marriagewith the said or with any other woman; we declare such marriage, if youstill attempt it, to be vain and of none effect, and so to be regarded byall persons in obedience to the Apostolic see. "[408]

An inhibitory mandate, was a natural consequence of the conference ofCalais, provided that the pope intended to proceed openly and uprightly;and if it had been sent upon the spot, Henry could have complained ofnothing worse than of an honourable opposition to his wishes. But themystery was not yet exhausted. The postscript was not issued, it was notspoken of; it was carried secretly to Bologna, and it bears at its foot afurther date of the 23rd of December, the very time, that is to say, atwhich the pope was representing himself to Bennet as occupied only indevising the best means of satisfying Henry, and to Sir Gregory Cassalis, as so convinced of the justice of the English demands, that he had venturedin defence of them to the edge of rupture with the emperor. 

It might be urged that he was sincere both in his brief and in hisconversation; that he believed that a verdict ought to be given, and wouldat last be given, against the original marriage, and that therefore he wasthe more anxious to prevent unnecessary scandal. Yet a menace ofexcommunication couched in so haughty a tone, could have been honestlyreconciled with his other conduct, only by his following a course withrespect to it which he did not follow--by informing the ambassadors openlyof what he had done, and transmitting his letter through their hands toHenry himself. This he might have done; and though the issue of such adocument at such a time would have been open to question, it mightnevertheless have been defended. His Holiness, however, did nothing of thekind. No hint was let fall of the existence of any minatory brief; hesustained his pretence of good will, till there was no longer any occasionfor him to counterfeit; and two months later it suddenly appeared on thedoors of the churches in Flanders. 

Henry at first believed it to be forgery, One forged brief had already beenproduced by the imperialists in the course of their transactions, and heimagined that this was another; even his past experience of Clement had notprepared him for this last venture of effrontery; he wrote to Bennet, enclosing a copy, and requiring him to ascertain if it were reallygenuine. [409]

The pope could not deny his hand, though the exposure, and the strangeirregular character of the brief itself troubled him, and Bonner, who wasagain at the papal court, said that "he was in manner ashamed, and in greatperplexity what he might do therein. "[410]

His conduct will be variously interpreted, and to attempt to analyse themotives of a double-minded man is always a hazardous experiment; but acomparison of date, the character of Clement himself, the circumstances inwhich he was placed, and the retrospective evidence from after events, points almost necessarily to but one interpretation. It is scarcelydisputable that, frightened at the reception of Anne Boleyn in France, thepope found it necessary to pretend for a time an altered dispositiontowards Henry; and that the emperor, unable to feel wholly confident that aperson who was false to others was true to himself, had exacted the brieffrom him as a guarantee for his good faith; Charles, on his side, reservingthe publication until Francis had been gained over, and until Clement wasscreened against the danger which he so justly feared, from theconsequences of the interview at Calais. 

There was duplicity of a kind; this cannot be denied; and if not designedto effect this object, this object in fact it answered. While Clement wastalking smoothly to Bennet and Cassalis, secret overtures were advanced atParis for a meeting at Nice between the pope, the emperor, and the King ofFrance, from which Henry was to be excluded. [411] The emperor made hastewith concessions to Francis, which but a few months before would haveseemed impossible. He withdrew his army out of Lombardy, and left Italyfree; he consented to the marriage which he had so earnestly opposedbetween Catherine de Medici and the Duke of Orleans, agreeing also, it isprobable, to the contingency of the Duchy of Milan becoming ultimately herdowry. And Francis having coquetted with the proposal for the Nicemeeting, [412] not indeed accepting, but not absolutely rejecting it, Charles consented also to waive his objections to the interview betweenFrancis and the pope, on which he had looked hitherto with so muchsuspicion; provided that the pope would bear in mind some mysterious andunknown communication which had passed at Bologna. [413]

Thus was Francis won. He cared only, as the pope had seen, for his owninterests; and from this time he drew away, by imperceptible degrees, fromhis engagements to England. He did not stoop to dishonour or treacherousbetrayal of confidence, for with all his faults he was, in the technicalacceptation of that misused term, a gentleman. He declined only to maintainthe attitude which, if he had continued in it, would have compelled thepope to yield; and although he continued honestly to urge him to makeconcessions, he no longer affected to make them the price of preservingFrance in allegiance to the Holy See. Nor need we regret that Francisshrank from a resolution which Henry had no right to require of him. Tohave united with France in a common schism at the crisis of the Reformationwould have only embarrassed the free motions of England; and two nationswhose interests and whose tendencies were essentially opposite, might notsubmit to be linked together by the artificial interests of their princes. The populace of England were unconsciously on the rapid road toProtestantism. The populace of France were fanatically Catholic. Englandwas to go her way through a golden era of Elizabeth to Cromwell, thePuritans, and a Protestant republic; a republic to be perpetuated, if notin England herself, yet among her great children beyond the sea. France wasto go her way through Bartholomew massacres and the dragonnades to apolished Louis the Magnificent, and thence to the bloody Medea's cauldronof Revolution, out of which she was to rise as now we know her. No commonroad could have been found for such destinies as these; and the Frenchprince followed the direction of his wiser instincts when he preferred aquiet arrangement with the pope, in virtue of which his church should besecured by treaty the liberties which she desired, to a doubtful strugglefor a freedom which his people neither wished nor approved. The interestsof the nation were in fact his own. He could ill afford to forsake areligion which allowed him so pleasantly to compound for his amatoryindulgences by the estrapade[414] and a zeal for orthodoxy. 

It became evident to Henry early in the spring that he was leftsubstantially alone. His marriage had been kept secret with the intentionthat it should be divulged by the King of France to the pope when he methim at Marseilles; and as the pope had pretended an anxiety that either theKing of England should be present in person at that interview, or should berepresented by an ambassador of adequate rank, a train had been equippedfor the occasion, the most magnificent which England could furnish. Time, meanwhile, passed on; the meeting, which was to have taken place first inJanuary, and then in April, was delayed till October, and in the intervalthe papal brief had appeared in Flanders; the queen's pregnancy could notadmit of concealment; and the evident proof which appeared that France wasno longer to be depended upon, convinced the English government that theyhad nothing to hope for from abroad, and that Henry's best resources wereto be found, where in fact they had always been, in the strength andaffection of his own people. 

From this choking atmosphere, therefore, we now turn back to England andthe English parliament; and the change is from darkness to light, fromdeath to life. Here was no wavering, no uncertainty, no smiling faces withfalse hearts behind them; but the steady purpose of resolute men, whoslowly, and with ever opening vision, bore the nation forward to the fairfuture which was already dawning. 

Parliament met at the beginning of February, a few days after the king'smarriage, which, however, still remained a secret. It is, I think, noslight evidence of the calmness with which the statesmen of the dayproceeded with their work, that in a session so momentous, in a session inwhich the decisive blow was to be struck of the most serious revolutionthrough which the country as yet had passed, they should have first settledthemselves calmly down to transact what was then the ordinary business oflegislation, the struggle with the vital evils of society. The first ninestatutes which were passed in this session were economic acts to protectthe public against the frauds of money-making tradesmen; to provide thatshoes and boots should be made of honest leather; that food should be soldat fair prices, that merchants should part with their goods at fairprofits; to compel, or as far as the legislature was able to do it, tocompel all classes of persons to be true men; to deal honestly with eachother, in that high Quixotic sense of honesty which requires good subjectsat all times and under all circumstances to consider the interests of thecommonwealth as more important than their own. I have already spoken ofthis economic legislation, and I need not dwell now upon details of it;although under some aspects it may be thought that more which is trulyvaluable in English history lies in these unobtrusive statutes than in allour noisy wars, reformations, and revolutions. The history of this as ofall other nations (or so much of it as there is occasion for any of us toknow), is the history of the battles which it has fought and won with evil;not with political evil merely, or spiritual evil; but with allmanifestations whatsoever of the devil's power. And to have beaten back, oreven to have struggled against and stemmed in ever so small a degree thosebesetting basenesses of human nature, now held so invincible that theinfluences of them are assumed as the fundamental axioms of economicscience; this appears to me a greater victory than Agincourt, a grandertriumph of wisdom and faith and courage than even the English constitutionor the English liturgy. Such a history, however, lies beside the purposewhich I may here permit myself; and the two acts with which the sessionclosed, alone in this place require our attention. 

The first of these is one of the many "Acts of Apparel, " which are to befound in the early volumes of the statute book. The meaning of these lawsbecomes intelligible when we reflect upon the condition of the people. TheEnglish were an organised nation of soldiers; they formed an armyperpetually ready for the field, where the degrees were determined bysocial position; and the dresses prescribed to the various orders ofsociety were the graduated uniforms which indicated the rank of thewearers. When every man was a soldier, and every gentleman was an officer, the same causes existed for marking, by costume, the distinctions ofauthority, which lead to the answering differences in the modern regiments. 

The changing conditions of the country at the time of the Reformation, thegrowth of a middle class, with no landed possessions, yet made wealthy bytrade or other industry, had tended necessarily to introduce confusion; andthe policy of this reign, which was never more markedly operative thanduring the most critical periods of it, was to reinvigorate the disciplineof the feudal system; and pending the growth of what might better suit theage, pending the great struggle in which the nation was engaged, to holdevery man at his post. The statute specifies its object, and the motiveswith which it was passed. 

"Whereas, " says the preamble, "divers laws, ordinances, and statutes havebeen with great deliberation and advice provided and established for thenecessary repressing and avoiding the inordinate excess daily more and moreused in the sumptuous and costly array and apparel accustomably worn inthis realm, whereof hath ensued, and daily do chance such sundry high andnotable inconveniences as be to the great and notorious detriment of thecommonweal, the subversion of politic order in knowledge and distinction ofpeople according to their preeminence and degrees, to the utterimpoverishment and undoing of many light and inexpert persons inclined topride, the mother of all vices: Be it enacted, "[415]--but I need not enterinto the particulars of the uniforms worn by the nobles and gentlemen ofthe court of Henry VIII. ; the temper, not the detail, is of importance; andof the wisdom or unwisdom of such enactments, we who live in a changed ageshould be cautious of forming a hasty opinion. The ends which the oldlegislation proposed to itself, have in latter ages been resigned asimpracticable. We are therefore no longer adequate judges how far thoseends may in other times have been attainable, and we can still less judgeof the means through which the attainment of them was sought. 

The second act of which I have to speak is open to no such ambiguity; itremains among the few which are and will be of perpetual moment in ournational history. The conduct of the pope had forced upon the parliamentthe reconsideration of the character of his supremacy; and when thequestion had once been asked, in the existing state of feeling but oneanswer to it was possible. 

The authority of the church over the state, the supreme kingship of Christ, and consequently of him who was held to be Christ's vicar, above allworldly sovereignties, was an established reality of mediæval Europe. Theprinces had with difficulty preserved their jurisdiction in matters purelysecular; while in matters spiritual, and in that vast section of humanaffairs in which the spiritual and the secular glide one into the other, they had been compelled--all such of them as lay within the pale of theLatin communion--to acknowledge a power superior to their own. To the popeswas the ultimate appeal in all causes of which the spiritual courts hadcognisance. Their jurisdiction had been extended by an unwavering pursuitof a single policy, and their constancy in the twelfth century was rewardedby absolute victory. In England, however, the field was no sooner won thanit was again disputed, and the civil government gave way at last only whenthe danger seemed to have ceased. So long as the papacy was feared, so longas the successors of St. Peter held a sword which could inflict sensiblewounds, and enforce obedience by penalties, the English kings had resistedboth the theory and the application. While the pope was dangerous he wasdreaded and opposed. When age had withered his arm, and the feeblelightnings flickered in harmless insignificance, they consented to withdrawtheir watchfulness, and his supremacy was silently allowed as an innocentsuperstition. It existed as some other institutions exist at the presentday, with a merely nominal authority; with a tacit understanding, that thepower which it was permitted to retain should be exerted only in conformitywith the national will. 

Under these conditions the Tudor princes became loyal subjects to the HolySee, and so they would have willingly remained, had not Clement, in an evilhour for himself, forgotten the terms of the compact. He laid upon a legalfiction a strain which his predecessors, in their palmiest days, would havefeared to attempt; and the nation, after grave remonstrance, which was onlyreceived with insults, exorcised the chimæra with a few resolute words forever. The parliament, in asserting the freedom of England, carefully chosetheir language. They did not pass a new law, but they passed an actdeclaratory merely of the law which already existed, and which they werevindicating against illegal encroachment. "Whereas, " says the Statute ofAppeals, "by divers sundry old authentic histories and chronicles, it ismanifestly declared and expressed that this realm of England is an empire, and so hath been accepted in the world; governed by one supreme head andking, having the dignity and royal estate of the imperial crown of thesame; unto whom a body politic compact of all sorts and degrees of people, divided in terms by names of spiritualty and temporalty, be bound and oughtto bear, next to God, a natural and humble obedience: he being alsoinstitute and furnished by the goodness and sufferance of Almighty God withplenary, whole, and entire power, pre-eminence and authority, prerogativeand jurisdiction, to render and yield justice and final determination toall manner of folk resident or subject within this his realm, withoutrestraint or provocation to any foreign prince or potentate of the world:the body spiritual whereof having power when any cause of the law divinehappened to come in question, or of spiritual learning, [such cause being]declared, interpret, and shewed by that part of the body politic called thespiritualty, now usually called the English church; (which also hath beenreported and also found of that sort, that both for knowledge, integrity, and sufficiency of numbers, it hath been always thought to be, and is alsoat this hour sufficient and meet of itself, without the interfering of anyexterior person or persons, to declare and determine all such doubts, andto administer all such offices and duties as to the administration of theirrooms spiritual doth appertain): and the laws temporal, for trial ofproperty of lands and goods, and for the conservation of the people of thisrealm in unity and peace, having been and yet being administered, adjudged, and executed by sundry judges and administers of the said body politiccalled the temporalty: and seeing that both these authorities andjurisdictions do conjoin together for the due administration of justice, the one to help the other: and whereas the king's most noble progenitors, and the nobility and commons of this said realm at divers and sundryparliaments, as well in the time of King Edward I. , Edward III. , RichardII. , Henry IV. , and other noble kings of this realm, made sundryordinances, laws, and provisions for the conservation of the prerogatives, liberties, and pre-eminences of the imperial crown of this realm, and ofthe jurisdiction spiritual and temporal of the same, to keep it from theannoyance as well of the see of Rome as from the authority of other foreignpotentates attempting the diminution or violation thereof, as often as fromtime to time any such annoyance or attempt might be known or espied: andnotwithstanding the said good statutes and ordinances, and since the makingthereof, divers inconveniences and dangers not provided for plainly by thesaid statutes, have risen and sprung by reason of appeals sued out of thisrealm to the see of Rome, in causes testamentary, causes of matrimony anddivorce, right of tithes, oblations, and obventions, not only to the greatinquietation, vexation, trouble, costs, and charges of the King's Highness, and many of his subjects and residents in this his realm; but also to thedelay and let of the speedy determination of the said causes, for so muchas parties appealing to the said court of Rome most commonly do the samefor the delay of justice; and forasmuch as the great distance of way is sofar out of this realm, so that the necessary proofs, nor the true knowledgeof the causes, can neither there be so well known, nor the witnesses sowell examined there as within this realm, so that the parties grieved bymeans of the said appeals be most times without remedy; in considerationhereof, all testamentary and matrimonial causes, and all suits for tithes, oblations, and obventions shall henceforth be adjudged in the spiritual andtemporal courts within the realm, without regard to any process of foreignjurisdiction, or any inhibition, excommunication, or interdict. Personsprocuring processes, inhibitions, appeals, or citations from the court ofRome, as well as their fautors, comforters, counsellors, aiders andabettors, all and every of them shall incur the penalties of premunire; andin all such cases as have hitherto admitted of appeal to Rome, the appealsshall be from the Archdeacon's court to the Bishop's court, from theBishop's court to that of the Archbishop, and no further. "[416]

The act was carried through Parliament in February, but again, as with theAnnates Bill, the king delayed his sanction till the post could reach andreturn from the Vatican. The Bishop of Bayonne wrote that there was hopethat Clement might yet give way, and entreated that the king would send an"excusator, " a person formally empowered to protest for him that he couldnot by the laws of England plead at a foreign tribunal; and that with thisimperfect recognition of his authority the pope would be satisfied. 

Chastillon, the French ambassador, had an interview with the king, tocommunicate the bishop's message. 

"The morning after, " Chastillon wrote, "his Majesty sent for me and desiredme to repeat my words before the council. I obeyed; but the majoritydeclared, that there was nothing in them to act upon, and that the kingmust not put himself in subjection. His Majesty himself, too, I found lesswarm than in his preceding conversation. I begged the council to bepatient. I said everything that I could think of likely to weigh with theking, I promised him a sentence from our Holy Father declaring his firstmarriage null, his present marriage good. I urged him on all grounds, public and private, to avoid a rupture with the Holy See. Such a sentence, I said, would be the best security for the queen, and the safest guaranteefor the unopposed succession of her offspring. If the marriage wasconfirmed by the Holy Father's authority, the queen's enemies would losethe only ground where they could make a stand. The peace of the realm wasnow menaced. The emperor talked loudly and made large preparations. Let theking be allied with France, and through France with the Holy See, and theemperor could do him no harm. Thus I said my proposals were for the benefitof the realm of his Majesty, and of the children who might be born to him. The king would act more prudently both for his own interest, and for theinterest of his children, in securing himself, than in running a risk ofcreating universal confusion; and, besides, he owed something to the kinghis brother, who had worked so long and so hard for him. 

"After some further conversation, his Majesty took me aside into a garden, where he told me that for himself he agreed in what I had said; but hebegged me to keep his confidence secret. He fears, I think, to appear tocondescend too easily. 

"He will not, however, publish the acts of parliament till he sees what isdone at Rome. The vast sums of money which used to be sent out of thecountry will go no longer; but in other respects he will be glad to returnto good terms. He will send the excusator when he hears again from M. DeParis; and for myself, I think, that although the whole country is in ablaze against the pope, yet with the good will and assistance of the king, the Holy Father will be reinstated in the greater part of hisprerogatives. "

But the hope that the pope would yield proved again delusive. Henry wroteto him himself in the spirit of his conversation with Chastillon. Hisletter was presented by Cardinal Tournon, and Clement said all that couldbe said in acknowledgment without making the one vital concession. Butwhenever it was put before him that the cause must be heard and decided inEngland and in no other place, he talked in the old language of uncertaintyand impossibilities;[417] and Henry learning at the same time that acorrespondence was going forward between Clement and Francis, with thesecrets of which he was not made acquainted, went forward upon his own way. April brought with it the certainty that the expected concessions weredelusive. Anne Boleyn's pregnancy made further delay impossible. D'Inteville, who had succeeded Chastillon as French ambassador, once moreattempted to interfere, but in vain. Henry told him he could not helphimself, the pope forced him to the course which he was pursuing, by theanswer which he had been pleased to issue; and he could only encounterenmity with its own weapons. "The archbishop, " d'Inteville wrote toFrancis, "will try the question, and will give judgment. I entreated theking to wait till the conference at Nice, but he would not consent. Iprayed him to keep the sentence secret till the pope had seen your Majesty;he replied it was impossible. "[418]

Thus the statute became law which transferred to the English courts of lawthe power so long claimed and exercised by the Roman see. There are twoaspects under which it may be regarded, as there were two objects for whichit was passed. Considered as a national act, few persons will now deny thatit was as just in itself as it was politically desirable. If the pope hadno jurisdiction over English subjects, it was well that he should be knownto have none; if he had, it was equally well that such jurisdiction shouldcease. The question was not of communion between the English and Romanchurches, which might or might not continue, but which this act would notaffect. The pope might still retain his rights of episcopal precedency, whatever those might be, with all the privileges attached to it. Theparliament merely declared that he possessed no right of interference indomestic disputes affecting persons and property. 

But the act had a special as well as a national bearing, and here it isless easy to arrive at a just conclusion. It destroyed the validity ofQueen Catherine's appeal; it placed a legal power in the hands of theEnglish judges to proceed to pass sentence upon the divorce; and it is opento the censure which we ever feel entitled to pass upon a measure enactedto meet the particular position of a particular person. When embarrassmentshave arisen from unforeseen causes, we have a right to legislate to preventa repetition of those embarrassments. Our instincts tell us that nolegislation should be retrospective, and should affect only positions whichhave been entered into with a full knowledge at the time of the conditionof the laws. 

The statute endeavours to avoid the difficulty by its declaratory form; butagain this is unsatisfactory; for that the pope possessed some authoritywas substantially acknowledged in every application which was made to him;and when Catherine had married under a papal dispensation, it was a strangething to turn upon her, and to say, not only that the dispensation in theparticular instance had been unlawfully granted, but that the pope had nojurisdiction in the matter by the laws of the land which she had entered. 

On the other hand, throughout the entire negotiations King Henry and hisministers had insisted jealously on the English privileges. They haddeclared from the first that they might, if they so pleased, fall back upontheir own laws. In desiring that the cause might be heard by a papal legatein England, they had represented themselves rather as condescending to aform than acknowledging a right; and they had, in fact, in allowing theopening of Campeggio's court, fallen, all of them, even Henry himself, under the penalties of the statutes of provisors. The validity ofCatherine's appeal they had always consistently denied. If the papaljurisdiction was to be admitted at all, it could only be through a ministersitting as judge within the realm of England; and the maxim, "Ne Angliextra Angliam litigare cogantur, " was insisted upon as the absoluteprivilege of every English subject. 

Yet, if we allow full weight to these considerations, a feeling of painfuluncertainty continues to cling to us; and in ordinary cases to be uncertainon such a point is to be in reality certain. The state of the law could nothave been clear, or the statute of appeals would not have been required;and explain it as we may, it was in fact passed for a special cause againsta special person; and that person a woman. 

How far the parliament was justified by the extremity of the case is afurther question, which it is equally difficult to answer. The alternative, as I have repeatedly said, was an all but inevitable civil war, on thedeath of the king; and practically, when statesmen are entrusted with thefortunes of an empire, the responsibility is too heavy to allow them toconsider other interests. Salus populi suprema lex, ever has been and everwill be the substantial canon of policy with public men, and morality isbound to hesitate before it censures them. There are some acts of injusticewhich no national interest can excuse, however great in itself thatinterest may be, or however certain to be attained by the means proposed. Yet government, in its easiest tax, trenches to a certain extent on naturalright and natural freedom; and trenches further and further in proportionto the emergency with which it has to deal. How far it may go in thisdirection, or whether Henry VIII. And his parliament went too far, is adifficult problem; their best justification is an exceptive clauseintroduced into the act, which was intended obviously to give QueenCatherine the utmost advantage which was consistent with the liberties ofthe realm. "In case, " says the concluding paragraph, "of any cause, ormatter, or contention now depending for the causes before rehearsed, orthat hereafter shall come into contention for any of the same causes in anyof the foresaid courts, which hath, doth, shall, or may touch the king, hisheirs or successors, kings of this realm; in all or every such case orcases the party grieved as aforesaid shall or may appeal from any of thesaid courts of this realm, to the spiritual prelates and other abbots andpriors of the Upper House, assembled and convocate by the king's writ inconvocation. "[419] If Catherine's cause was as just as Catholics andEnglish high churchmen are agreed to consider it, the English church mighthave saved her. If Catherine herself had thought first or chiefly ofjustice, she would not perhaps have accepted the arbitration of the Englishconvocation; but long years before she would have been in a cloister. 

Thus it is that while we regret, we are unable to blame; and we cannot wishundone an act, to have shrunk from which might have spared a single heart, but _might_ have wrecked the English nation. We increase our pity forCatherine because she was a princess. We measure the magnitude of the evilswhich human beings endure by their position in the scale of society; andmisfortunes which private persons would be expected to bear withoutexcessive complaining, furnish matter for the lamentation of ages when theytouch the sacred head which has been circled with a diadem. Let it be so. Let us compensate the queen's sorrows with unstinted sympathy; but let usnot trifle with history, by confusing a political necessity with a moralcrime. 

The English parliament, then, had taken up the gauntlet which the pope hadflung to it with trembling fingers: and there remained nothing but for theArchbishop of Canterbury to make use of the power of which by law he wasnow possessed. And the time was pressing, for the new queen was enciente, and further concealment was not to be thought of. The delay of theinterview between the pope and Francis, and the change in the demeanour ofthe latter, which had become palpably evident, discharged Henry of allpromises by which he might have bound himself; and to hesitate before themenaces of the pope's brief would have been fatal. 

The act of appeals being passed, convocation was the authority to which thepower of determining unsettled points of spiritual law seemed to havelapsed. In the month of April, therefore, Cranmer, now Archbishop ofCanterbury, [420] submitted to it the two questions, on the resolution ofwhich the sentence which he was to pass was dependent. 

The first had been already answered separately by the bench of bishops andby the universities, and had been agitated from end to end of Europe--wasit lawful to marry the widow of a brother dying without issue, but havingconsummated his marriage; and was the Levitical prohibition of such amarriage grounded on a divine law, with which the pope could not dispense, or on a canon law of which a dispensation was permissible?[421]

The pope had declared himself unable to answer; but he had allowed that thegeneral opinion was against the power of dispensing, [422] and there couldbe little doubt, therefore, of the reply of the English convocation, or atleast of the upper house. Fisher attempted an opposition; but whollywithout effect. The, question was one in which the interests of the higherclergy were not concerned, and they were therefore left to the dominion oftheir ordinary understandings. Out of two hundred and sixty-three votes, nineteen only were in the pope's favour. [423]

The lower house was less unanimous, as might have been expected, and as hadbeen experienced before; the opposition spirit of the English clergy beingusually then, as much as now, in the ratio of their poverty. But there toothe nature of the case compelled an overwhelming majority. [424] It wasdecided by both houses that Pope Julius, in granting a licence for themarriage of Henry and Catherine, had exceeded his authority, and that thismarriage was therefore, _ab initio_, void. 

The other question to be decided was one of fact; whether the marriage ofCatherine with Prince Arthur had or had not been consummated, a matterwhich the Catholic divines conceived to be of paramount importance, butwhich to few persons at the present day will seem of any importancewhosoever. We cannot even read the evidence which was produced without asensation of disgust, although in those broader and less conscious ages theindelicacy was less obviously perceptible. And we may console ourselveswith the hope that the discussion was not so wounding as might have beenexpected to the feelings of Queen Catherine, since at all officialinterviews, with all classes of persons, at all times and in all places, she appeared herself to court the subject. [425] There is no occasion inthis place to follow her example. It is enough that Ferdinand, at the timeof her first marriage, satisfied himself, after curious inquiry, that hemight hope for a grandchild; and that the fact of the consummation wasasserted in the treaty between England and Spain, which preceded themarriage with Henry, and in this supposed brief of Pope Julius whichpermitted it. [426] We cannot in consequence be surprised that theconvocation accepted the conclusion which was sanctioned by so highauthority, and we rather wonder at the persistency of Catherine's denials. With respect to this vote, therefore, we need notice nothing except thatDr. Clerk, Bishop of Bath and Wells[427] was one of an exceedingly smallminority, who were inclined to believe that the denial might be true, andthis bishop was one of the four who were associated with Cranmer when hesate at Dunstable for the trial of the cause. 

The ground being thus opened, and all preparations being completed, thearchbishop composed a formal letter to the king, in which he dwelt upon theuncertain prospects of the succession, and the danger of leaving a questionwhich closely affected it so long unsettled. He expatiated at length on thegeneral anxiety which was felt throughout the realm, and requestedpermission to employ the powers attached to his office to bring it to someconclusion. The recent alterations had rendered the archbishop somethingdoubtful of the nature of his position; he was diffident and unwilling tooffend; and not clearly knowing in the exercise of the new authority whichhad been granted to him, whether the extension of his power was accompaniedwith a parallel extension of liberty in making use of it, he wrote twocopies of this letter, with slight alterations of language, that the kingmight select between them the one which he would officially recognise. Boththese copies are extant; both were written the same day from the sameplace; both were folded, sealed, and sent. It seems, therefore, thatneither was Cranmer furnished beforehand with a draught of what he was towrite; nor was his first letter sent back to him corrected. He must haveacted by his own judgment; and a comparison of the two letters is singularand instructive. In the first he spoke of his office and duty in language, chastened indeed and modest, but still language of independence; and whilehe declared his unwillingness to "enterprise any part of that office"without his Grace's favour obtained, and pleasure therein first known, heimplied nevertheless that his request was rather of courtesy than ofobligation, and had arisen rather from a sense of moral propriety thanbecause he might not legally enter on the exercise of his duty without thepermission of the crown. [428]

The moderate gleam of freedom vanishes in the other copy under a few pithychanges, as if Cranmer instinctively felt the revolution which had takenplace in the relations of church and state. Where in the first letter heasked for his Grace's favour, in the second he asked for his Grace's favour_and licence_--where in the first he requested to know his Grace's pleasureas to his proceeding, in the second he desired his Most Excellent Majestyto _license_ him to proceed. The burden of both letters was the same, butthe introduction of the little word license changed all. It implied ahesitating belief that the spiritual judges might perhaps thenceforward beon a footing with the temporal judges and the magistrates; that under thenew constitution they were to understand that they held their offices notdirectly under God as they had hitherto pretended, but under God throughthe crown. 

The answer of Henry indicated that he had perceived the archbishop'suncertainty; and that he was desirous by the emphatic distinctness of hisown language to spare him a future recurrence of it. He accepted thedeferential version of the petition; but even Cranmer's anticipation ofwhat might be required of him had not reached the reality. In runningthrough the preamble, the king flung into the tone of it a character ofstill deeper humility;[429] and he conceded the desired licence in thefollowing imperial style. "In consideration of these things, "--_i. E. _ ofthe grounds urged by the archbishop for the petition--"albeit we being yourKing and Sovereign, do recognise no superior on earth but only God, and notbeing subject to the laws of any earthly creature; yet because ye be underus, by God's calling and ours, the most principal minister of our spiritualjurisdiction within this our Realm, who we think assuredly is so in thefear of God, and love towards the observance of his laws, to the whichlaws, we as a Christian king have always heretofore, and shall ever mostobediently submit ourself, we will not therefore refuse (our pre-eminence, power, and authority to us and to our successors in this behalfnevertheless saved) your humble request, offer, and towardness--that is, tomean to make an end according to the will and pleasure of Almighty God inour said great cause of matrimony, which hath so long dependedundetermined, to our great and grievous unquietness and burden of ourconscience. Wherefore we, inclining to your humble petition, by these ourletters sealed with our seal, and signed with our sign manual, do licenseyou to proceed in the said cause, and the examination and finaldetermination of the same; not doubting but that ye will have God and thejustice of the said cause only before your eyes, and not to regard anyearthly or worldly affection therein; for assuredly the thing which we mostcovet in the world, is so to proceed in all our acts and doings as may bethe most acceptable to the pleasure of Almighty God our Creator, to thewealth and honour of us, our successors and posterity, and the surety ofour Realm, and subjects within the same. "[430]

The vision of ecclesiastical independence, if Cranmer had indulged in it, must have faded utterly before his eyes on receiving this letter. As clergywho committed felony were no longer exempted from the penalties of theircrimes; so henceforward the courts of the clergy were to fell intoconformity with the secular tribunals. The temporal prerogatives ofecclesiastics as a body whose authority over the laity was countervailedwith no reciprocal obligation, existed no longer. This is what the languageof the king implied. The difficulty which the persons whom he wasaddressing experienced in realising the change in their position, obligedhim to be somewhat emphatic in his assertion of it; and it might beimagined at first sight, that in insisting on his superiority to theofficers of the spiritual courts, he claimed a right to dictate theirsentences. But to venture such a supposition would be to mistake the natureof English sovereignty and the spirit of the change. The supreme authorityin England was the law; and the king no more possessed, or claimed a powerof controlling the judgment of the bishops or their ministers, than hecould interfere with the jurisdiction of the judges of the bench. Allpersons in authority, whether in church or state, held their officesthenceforth by similar tenure; but the rule of the proceedings in eachremained alike the law of the land, which Henry had no more thought ofsuperseding by his own will than the most constitutional of modern princes. 

The closing sentences of his reply to Cranmer are striking, and it isdifficult to believe that he did not mean what he was saying. From thefirst step in the process to the last, he maintained consistently that hisonly object was to do what was right. He was thoroughly persuaded that thecourse which he was pursuing was sanctioned by justice--and persons who aresatisfied that he was entitled to feel such persuasion, need not refuse himthe merit of sincerity, because (to use the language which Cromwell used atthe fatal crisis of his life[431]) "It may be well that they who medelle inmany matters are not able to answer for them all. "

Cranmer, then, being fortified with this permission, and taking with himthe Bishops of London, Winchester, Lincoln, and Bath and Wells (the latterperhaps having been chosen in consequence of his late conduct in theconvocation, to give show of fairness to the proceeding), went down toDunstable and opened his court there. The queen was at Ampthill, six milesdistant, having entered on her sad tenancy, it would seem, as soon as theplace had been evacuated by the gaudy hunting party of the precedingsummer. The cause being undecided, and her title being therefore uncertain, she was called by the safe name of "the Lady Catherine, " and under thisdesignation she was served with a citation from the archbishop to appearbefore him on Saturday, the 10th of May. The bearers of the summons wereSir Francis Bryan (an unfortunate choice, for he was cousin of the newqueen, and insolent in his manner and bearing), Sir Thomas Gage, and LordVaux. She received them like herself with imperial sorrow. They deliveredtheir message; she announced that she refused utterly to acknowledge thecompetency of the tribunal before which she was called; the court was amockery; the archbishop was a shadow. [432] She would neither appear beforehim in person, nor commission any one to appear on her behalf. 

The court had but one course before it--she was pronounced contumacious, and the trial went forward. None of her household were tempted even bycuriosity to be present. "There came not so much as a servant of hers toDunstable, save such as were brought in as witnesses;" some of them havingbeen required to give evidence in the re-examination which was thoughtnecessary, as to the nature of the relation of their mistress with herfirst boy husband. As soon as this disgusting question had beensufficiently investigated, nothing remained but to pronounce judgment. Themarriage with the king was declared to have been null and void from thebeginning, and on the 23rd of May, the archbishop sent to London thewelcome news that the long matter was at an end. [433]

It was over;--over at last; yet so over, that the conclusion could butappear to the losing party a fresh injustice. To those who were concernedin bringing it to pass, to the king himself, to the nation, to Europe, toevery one who heard of it at the time, it must have appeared, as it appearsnow to us who read the story of it, if a necessity, yet a most unwelcomeand unsatisfying one. That the king remained uneasy is evident from theefforts which he continued to make, or which he allowed to be made, notwithstanding the brief of the 23rd of December, to gain the sanction ofthe pope. That the nation was uneasy, we should not require the evidence ofhistory to tell us. "There was much murmuring in England, " says Hall, "andit was thought by the unwise that the Bishop of Rome would curse allEnglishmen; that the emperor and he would destroy all the people. " Andthose who had no such fears, and whose judgment in the main approved ofwhat had been done, were scandalised at the presentation to them at theinstant of the publication of the divorce, of a new queen, four monthsadvanced in pregnancy. This also was a misfortune which had arisen out ofthe chain of duplicities, a fresh accident swelling a complication whichwas already sufficiently entangled. It had been occasioned by steps whichat the moment at which they were ventured, prudence seemed to justify; butwe the more regret it, because, in comparison with the interests which wereat issue, the few months of additional delay were infinitely unimportant. 

Nevertheless, we have reason to be thankful that the thing, well or ill, was over; seven years of endurance were enough for the English nation, andmay be supposed to have gained even for Henry a character for patience. Insome way, too, it is needless to say, the thing must have ended. The lifeof none of us is long enough to allow us to squander so large a section ofit struggling in the meshes of a law-suit; and although there may be adifference of opinion on the wisdom of having first entered upon ground ofsuch a kind, few thinking persons can suggest any other method in whicheither the nation or the king could have extricated themselves. Meanwhile, it was resolved that such spots and blemishes as hung about the transactionshould be forgotten in the splendour of the coronation. If there wasscandal in the condition of the queen, yet under another aspect thatcondition was matter of congratulation to a people so eager for an heir;and Henry may have thought that the sight for the first time in public ofso beautiful a creature, surrounded by the most magnificent pageant whichLondon had witnessed since the unknown day on which the first stone of itwas laid, and bearing in her bosom the long-hoped-for inheritor of theEnglish crown, might induce a chivalrous nation to forget what it was theinterest of no loyal subject to remember longer, and to offer her anEnglish welcome to the throne. 

In anticipation of the timely close of the proceedings at Dunstable, noticehad been given in the city early in May, that preparations should be madefor the coronation on the first of the following month. Queen Anne was atGreenwich, but, according to custom, the few preceding days were to bespent at the Tower; and on the 19th of May, she was conducted thither instate by the lord mayor and the city companies, with one of those splendidexhibitions upon the water which in the days when the silver Thamesdeserved its name, and the sun could shine down upon it out of the bluesummer sky, were spectacles scarcely rivalled in gorgeousness by theworld-famous wedding of the Adriatic. The river was crowded with boats, thebanks and the ships in the pool swarmed with people; and fifty great bargesformed the procession, all blazing with gold and banners. The queen herselfwas in her own barge, close to that of the lord mayor; and in keeping withthe fantastic genius of the time, she was preceded up the water by "a foystor wafter full or ordnance, in which was a great dragon continually movingand casting wildfire, and round about the foyst stood terrible monsters andwild men, casting fire and making hideous noise. "[434] So, with trumpetsblowing, cannon pealing, the Tower guns answering the guns of the ships, ina blaze of fireworks and splendour, Anne Boleyn was borne along to thegreat archway of the Tower, where the king was waiting on the stairs toreceive her. 

And now let us suppose eleven days to have elapsed, the welcome news tohave arrived at length from Dunstable, and the fair summer morning of lifedawning in treacherous beauty after the long night of expectation. Nobridal ceremonial had been possible; the marriage had been huddled overlike a stolen love-match, and the marriage feast had been eaten in vexationand disappointment. These past mortifications were to be atoned for by acoronation pageant which the art and the wealth of the richest city inEurope should be poured out in the most lavish profusion to adorn. 

On the morning of the 31st of May, the families of the London citizens werestirring early in all houses. From Temple Bar to the Tower, the streetswere fresh strewed with gravel, the footpaths were railed off along thewhole distance, and occupied on one side by the guilds, their workmen, andapprentices, on the other by the city constables and officials in theirgaudy uniforms, "with their staves in hand for to cause the people to keepgood room and order. "[435] Cornhill and Gracechurch Street had dressedtheir fronts in scarlet and crimson, in arras and tapestry, and the richcarpet-work from Persia and the East. Cheapside, to outshine her rivals, was draped even more splendidly in cloth of gold, and tissue, and velvet. The sheriffs were pacing up and down on their great Flemish horses, hungwith liveries, and all the windows were thronged with ladies crowding tosee the procession pass. At length the Tower guns opened, the grim gatesrolled back, and under the archway in the bright May sunshine, the longcolumn began slowly to defile. Two states only permitted theirrepresentatives to grace the scene with their presence--Venice and France. It was, perhaps, to make the most of this isolated countenance, that theFrench ambassador's train formed the van of the cavalcade. Twelve Frenchknights came riding foremost in surcoats of blue velvet with sleeves ofyellow silk, their horses trapped in blue, with white crosses powdered ontheir hangings. After them followed a troop of English gentlemen, two andtwo, and then the Knights of the Bath, "in gowns of violet, with hoodspurfled with miniver like doctors. " Next, perhaps at a little interval, theabbots passed on, mitred in their robes; the barons followed in crimsonvelvet, the bishops then, and then the earls and marquises, the dresses ofeach order increasing in elaborate gorgeousness. All these rode on inpairs. Then came alone Audeley, lord-chancellor, and behind him theVenetian ambassador and the Archbishop of York; the Archbishop ofCanterbury, and Du Bellay, Bishop of Bayonne and of Paris, not now withbugle and hunting-frock, but solemn with stole and crozier. Next, the lordmayor, with the city mace in hand, the Garter in his coat of arms; and thenLord William Howard--Belted Will Howard, of the Scottish Border, Marshal ofEngland. The officers of the queen's household succeeded the marshal inscarlet and gold, and the van of the procession was closed by the Duke ofSuffolk, as high constable, with his silver wand. It is no easy matter topicture to ourselves the blazing trail of splendour which in such a pageantmust have drawn along the London streets, --those streets which now we knowso black and smoke-grimed, themselves then radiant with masses of colour, gold, and crimson, and violet. Yet there it was, and there the sun couldshine upon it, and tens of thousands of eyes were gazing on the scene outof the crowded lattices. 

Glorious as the spectacle was, perhaps however, it passed unheeded. Thoseeyes were watching all for another object, which now drew near. In an openspace behind the constable there was seen approaching "a white chariot, "drawn by two palfreys in white damask which swept the ground, a goldencanopy borne above it making music with silver bells: and in the chariotsat the observed of all observers, the beautiful occasion of all thisglittering homage; fortune's plaything of the hour, the Queen ofEngland--queen at last--borne along upon the waves of this sea of glory, breathing the perfumed incense of greatness which she had risked her fairname, her delicacy, her honour, her self-respect, to win; and she had wonit. 

There she sate, dressed in white tissue robes, her fair hair flowing looseover her shoulders, and her temples circled with a light coronet of goldand diamonds--most beautiful--loveliest--most favoured perhaps, as sheseemed at that hour, of all England's daughters. Alas! "within the hollowround" of that coronet--

 Kept death his court, and there the antick sate, Scoffing her state and grinning at her pomp. Allowing her a little breath, a little scene To monarchise, be feared, and kill with looks, Infusing her with self and vain conceit, As if the flesh which walled about her life Were brass impregnable; and humoured thus, Bored through her castle walls; and farewell, Queen. 

Fatal gift of greatness! so dangerous ever! so more than dangerous in thosetremendous times when the fountains are broken loose of the great deeps ofthought; and nations are in the throes of revolution;--when ancient orderand law and tradition are splitting in the social earthquake; and as theopposing forces wrestle to and fro, those unhappy ones who stand out abovethe crowd become the symbols of the struggle, and fall the victims of itsalternating fortunes. And what if into an unsteady heart and brain, intoxicated with splendour, the outward chaos should find its way, converting the poor silly soul into an image of the same confusion, --ifconscience should be deposed from her high place, and the Pandora box bebroken loose of passions and sensualities and follies; and at length therebe nothing left of all which man or woman ought to value, save hope ofGod's forgiveness. 

Three short years have yet to pass, and again, on a summer morning, QueenAnne Boleyn will leave the Tower of London--not radiant then with beauty ona gay errand of coronation, but a poor wandering ghost, on a sad tragicerrand, from which she will never more return, passing away out of an earthwhere she may stay no longer, into a presence where, nevertheless, we knowthat all is well--for all of us--and therefore for her. 

But let us not cloud her shortlived sunshine with the shadow of the future. She went on in her loveliness, the peeresses following in their carriages, with the royal guard in their rear. In Fenchurch Street she was met by thechildren of the city schools; and at the corner of Gracechurch Street amasterpiece had been prepared of the pseudo-classic art, then sofashionable, by the merchants of the Styll Yard. A Mount Parnassus had beenconstructed, and a Helicon fountain upon it playing into a basin with fourjets of Rhenish wine. On the top of the mountain sat Apollo with Calliopeat his feet, and on either side the remaining Muses, holding lutes orharps, and singing each of them some "posy" or epigram in praise of thequeen, which was presented, after it had been sung, written in letters ofgold. 

From Gracechurch Street, the procession passed to Leadenhall, where therewas a spectacle in better taste, of the old English Catholic kind, quaintperhaps and forced, but truly and even beautifully emblematic. There wasagain a "little mountain, " which was hung with red and white roses; a goldring was placed on the summit, on which, as the queen appeared, a whitefalcon was made to "descend as out of the sky"--"and then incontinent camedown an angel with great melody, and set a close crown of gold upon thefalcon's head; and in the same pageant sat Saint Anne with all her issuebeneath her; and Mary Cleophas with her four children, of the whichchildren one made a goodly oration to the queen, of the fruitfulness of St. Anne, trusting that like fruit should come of her. "[436]

With such "pretty conceits, " at that time the honest tokens of an Englishwelcome, the new queen was received by the citizens of London. These scenesmust be multiplied by the number of the streets, where some fresh fancy mether at every turn. To preserve the festivities from flagging, everyfountain and conduit within the walls ran all day with wine; the bells ofevery steeple were ringing; children lay in wait with song, and ladies withposies, in which all the resources of fantastic extravagance wereexhausted; and thus in an unbroken triumph--and to outward appearancereceived with the warmest affection--she passed under Temple Bar, down theStrand by Charing Cross to Westminster Hall. The king was not with herthroughout the day; nor did he intend to be with her in any part of theceremony. She was to reign without a rival, the undisputed sovereign of thehour. 

Saturday being passed in showing herself to the people, she retired for thenight to "the king's manour house at Westminster, " where she slept. On thefollowing morning, between eight and nine o'clock, she returned to thehall, where the lord mayor, the city council, and the peers were againassembled, and took her place on the high dais at the top of the stairsunder the cloth of state; while the bishops, the abbots, and the monks ofthe abbey formed in the area. A railed way had been laid with carpetsacross Palace Yard and the Sanctuary to the abbey gates, and when all wasready, preceded by the peers in their robes of parliament, the Knights ofthe Garter in the dress of the order, she swept out under her canopy, thebishops and the monks "solemnly singing. " The train was borne by the oldDuchess of Norfolk her aunt, the Bishops of London and Winchester on eitherside "bearing up the lappets of her robe. " The Earl of Oxford carried thecrown on its cushion immediately before her. She was dressed in purplevelvet furred with ermine, her hair escaping loose, as she usually wore it, under a wreath of diamonds. 

On entering the abbey, she was led to the coronation chair Where she satwhile the train fell into their places, and the preliminaries, of theceremonial were despatched. Then she was conducted up to the high altar, and anointed Queen of England, and she received from the hands of Cranmer, fresh come in haste from Dunstable, with the last words of his sentenceupon Catherine scarcely silent upon his lips, the golden sceptre, and St. Edward's crown. 

Did any twinge of remorse, any pang of painful recollection, pierce at thatmoment the incense of glory which she was inhaling? Did any vision flitacross her of a sad mourning figure which once had stood where she wasstanding, now desolate, neglected, sinking into the darkening twilight of alife cut short by sorrow? Who can tell? At such a time, that figure wouldhave weighed heavily upon a noble mind, and a wise mind would have beentaught by the thought of it, that although life be fleeting as a dream, itis long enough to experience strange vicissitudes of fortune. But AnneBoleyn was not noble and was not wise, --too probably she felt nothing butthe delicious, all-absorbing, all-intoxicating present, and if that plain, suffering face presented itself to her memory at all, we may fear that itwas rather as a foil to her own surpassing loveliness. Two years later, shewas able to exult over Catherine's death; she is not likely to have thoughtof her with gentler feelings in the first glow and flush of triumph. 

We may now leave these scenes. They concluded in the usual English style, with a banquet in the great hall, and with all outward signs of enjoymentand pleasure. There must have been but few persons present however who didnot feel that the sunshine of such a day might not last for ever, and thatover so dubious a marriage no Englishman could exult with more than half aheart. It is foolish to blame lightly actions which arise in the midst ofcircumstances which are and can be but imperfectly known; and there mayhave been political reasons which made so much pomp desirable. Anne Boleynhad been the subject of public conversation for seven years, and Henry, nodoubt, desired to present his jewel to them in the rarest and choicestsetting. Yet to our eyes, seeing, perhaps, by the light of what followed, amore modest introduction would have appeared more suited to the doubtfulnature of her position. 

At any rate we escape from this scene of splendour very gladly as fromsomething unseasonable. It would have been well for Henry VIII. If he hadlived in a world in which women could have been dispensed with; so ill, inall his relations with them, he succeeded. With men he could speak theright word, he could do the right thing; with women he seemed to be under afatal necessity of mistake. 

It was now necessary, however, after this public step, to communicate inform to the emperor the divorce and the new marriage. The king was assuredof the rectitude of the motives on which he had himself acted, and he knewat the same time that he had challenged the hostility of the papal world. Yet he did not desire a quarrel if there were means of avoiding it; andmore than once he had shown respect for the opposition which he had metwith from Charles, as dictated by honourable care for the interests of hiskinswoman. He therefore, in the truest language which will be met with inthe whole long series of the correspondence, composed a despatch for hisambassador at Brussels, and expressed himself in a tone of honest sorrowfor the injury which he had been compelled to commit. Neither the coercionwhich the emperor had exerted over the pope, nor his intrigues with hissubjects in Ireland and England, could deprive the nephew of Catherine ofhis right to a courteous explanation; and Henry directed Doctor NicholasHawkins in making his communication "to use only gentle words;" to expressa hope that Charles would not think only of his own honour, but wouldremember public justice; and that a friendship of long standing, which theinterests of the subjects of both countries were concerned so strongly inmaintaining, might not be broken. The instructions are too interesting topass over with a general description. After stating the grounds on whichHenry had proceeded, and which Charles thoroughly understood, Hawkins wasdirected to continue thus:--

"The King of England is not ignorant what respect is due unto the world. How much he hath laboured and travailed therein he hath sufficientlydeclared and showed in his acts and proceedings. If he had contemned theorder and process of the world, or the friendship and amity of yourMajesty, he needed not to have sent so often to the pope and to you both, nor continued and spent his time in delays. He might have done what he hasdone now, had it so liked him, with as little difficulty as now, if withoutsuch respect he would have followed his pleasure. "

The minister was then to touch the pope's behaviour and Henry'sforbearance, and after that to say:--

"Going forward in that way his Highness saw that he could come to noconclusion; and he was therefore compelled to step right forth out of themaze, and so to quiet himself at last. And is it not time to have an end inseven years? It is not to be asked nor questioned whether the matter hathbeen determined after the common fashion, but whether it hath in it commonjustice, truth, and equity. For observation of the common order, his Gracehath done what lay in him. Enforced by necessity he hath found the trueorder which he hath in substance followed with effect, and hath done asbecometh him. He doubteth not but your Majesty, remembering his cause fromthe beginning hitherto, will of yourself consider and think, that amongmortal men nothing should be immortal; and suits must once have an end, sipossis recte, si non quocunque modo. If his Highness cannot as he would, then must he do as he may; and he that hath a journey to be perfected must, if he cannot go one way, essay another. For his matter with the pope, heshall deal with him apart. Your Majesty he taketh for his friend, and as toa friend he openeth these matters to you, trusting to find your Majesty noless friendly than he hath done heretofore. "[437]

If courtesy obliged Henry to express a confidence in the stability of therelations between himself and Charles, which it was impossible that hecould have felt, yet in other respects this letter has the most pleasantmerit of honesty. Hawkins was so much overcome by "the sweetness of it, "that "he nothing doubted if that the emperor read the same, by God's gracehe should be utterly persuaded;" and although in this expectation he was alittle over sanguine, as in calmer moments he would have acknowledged, yetplain speech is never without its value; and Charles himself after he hadtried other expedients, and they had not succeeded with him, found it moreprudent to acquiesce in what could no longer be altered, and to return tocordiality. 

For the present he remained under the impression that by the great body ofthe English the divorce was looked upon with coldness and even withdispleasure, that the king was supported only by the complacency of a fewcourtiers, and that the nation were prepared to compel him to undo thewrong which had been inflicted upon Catherine and the princess. So he wasassured by the Spanish party in England; so all the disaffected assuredhim, who were perhaps themselves deceived. He had secured Ireland, andScotland also in so far as James's promises could secure it;[438] and hewas not disposed to surrender for the present so promising a game till hehad tried his strength and proved his weakness. He replied coldly toHawkins, "That for the King of England's amity he would be glad thereof, sothe said king would do works according. The matter was none of his; but thelady, whose rights had been violated, was his aunt and an orphan, and thathe must see for her, and for her daughter his cousin. "[439]

The scarcely ambiguous answer was something softened the following day;perhaps only, however, because it was too plain a betrayal of hisintentions. He communicated at once with Catherine, and Henry speedilylearnt the nature of the advice which he had given to her. After thecoronation had passed off so splendidly, when no disturbance had risen, novoice had been raised for her or for her daughter, the poor queen's spiritfor the moment had sunk; she had thought of leaving the country, and flyingwith the Princess Mary to Spain. The emperor sent to urge her to remain alittle longer, guaranteeing her, if she could command her patience, anample reparation for her injuries. Whatever might appear upon the surface, the new queen, he was assured, was little loved by the people, and "theywere ready to join with any prince who would espouse her quarrel. "[440] Allclasses, he said, were agreed in one common feeling of displeasure. Theywere afraid of a change of religion; they were afraid of the wreck of theircommerce; and the whole country was fast ripening towards insurrection. Thepoints on which he relied as the occasion of the disaffection betrayed thesources of his information. He was in correspondence with the regularclergy through Peto at Antwerp, and through his Flemish subjects withmerchants of London. Among both these classes, as well as among the WhiteRose nobles, he had powerful adherents; and it could not have beenforgotten in the courts, either of London or Brussels, that within thememory of living men, a small band of exiles, equipped by a Duke ofBurgundy, had landed at a Yorkshire village, and in a month hadrevolutionised the kingdom. 

In the eyes of Charles there was no reason why an attempt which hadsucceeded once might not succeed again under circumstances seemingly of farfairer promise. The strength of a party of insurrection is a power whichofficial statesmen never justly comprehend. It depends upon moralinfluences, which they are professionally incapable of appreciating. Theyare able complacently to ignore the existence of substantial disaffectionthough all society may be undermined; they can build their hopes, When itsuits their convenience, on the idle trifling of superficial discontent. Inthe present instance there was some excuse for the mistake. That in Englandthere really existed an active and organised opposition, prepared, whenopportunity offered, to try the chances of rebellion, was no delusion ofpersons who measured facts by their desires; it was an ascertained peril ofserious magnitude, which might be seriously calculated upon; and if theexperiment was tried, reasonable men might fairly be divided in opinion onthe result to be expected. 

In the meantime the government had been obliged to follow up the coronationof the new queen by an act which the situation of the kingdom explained andexcused; but which, if Catherine had been no more than a private person, would have been wanton cruelty. Among the people she still bore her royaltitle; but the name of queen, so long as she was permitted to retain it, was an allowed witness against the legality of the sentence at Dunstable. There could not be "two queens" in England, [441] and one or other mustretire from the designation. A proclamation was therefore issued by thecouncil, declaring, that in consequence of the final proofs that the LadyCatherine had never been lawfully married to the king, she was to bearthenceforward the title which she had received after the death of her firsthusband, and be called the Princess Dowager. 

Harsh as this measure was, she had left no alternative to the government bywhich to escape the enforcement of it, by her refusal to consent to anyform of compromise. If she was queen, Anne Boleyn was not queen. If she wasqueen, the Princess Mary remained the heir to the crown, and the expectedoffspring of Anne would be illegitimate. If the question had been merely ofnames, to have moved it would have been unworthy and wicked; but whererespect for private feeling was incompatible with the steps which a nationfelt necessary in order to secure itself against civil convulsions, privatefeeling was compelled not unjustly to submit to injury. Mary, though stilla girl, had inherited both her father's will and her mother's obstinacy. She was in correspondence, as we have seen, with the Nun of Kent, and awareat least, if she was not further implicated in it, of a conspiracy to placeher on the throne. Charles was engaged in the same designs; and it will notbe pretended that Catherine was left without information of what was goingforward, or that her own conduct was uninfluenced by policy. Theseintrigues it was positively necessary to stifle, and it was impossible toleave a pretext of which so powerful a use might be made in the hands of aparty whose object was not only to secure to the princess her right tosucceed her father, but to compel him by arms either to acknowledge it, orsubmit to be deposed. [442]

Our sympathies are naturally on the side of the weak and the unsuccessful. State considerations lose their force after the lapse of centuries, when nointerests of our own are any longer in jeopardy; and we feel for the greatsufferers of history only in their individual capacity, without recallingor caring for the political exigencies to which they were sacrificed. It isan error of disguised selfishness, the counterpart of the carelessness withwhich in our own age, when we are ourselves constituents of an interestedpublic, we ignore what it is inconvenient to remember. 

Thus, therefore, on one hot Midsummer Sunday in this year 1533, the peoplegathering to church in every parish through the English counties, read, nailed upon the doors, a paper signed Henry R. , setting forth that the LadyCatherine of Spain, heretofore called Queen of England, was not to becalled by that title any more, but was to be called Princess Dowager, andso to be held and esteemed. The proclamation, we may suppose, was read withvarying comments; of the reception of it in the northern counties, thefollowing information was forwarded to the crown. The Earl of Derby, lord-lieutenant of Yorkshire, wrote to inform the council that he hadarrested a certain "lewd and naughty priest, " James Harrison by name, onthe charge of having spoken unfitting and slanderous words of his Highnessand the Queen's Grace. He had taken the examinations of several witnesses, which he had sent with his letter, and which were to the followingeffect:--

Richard Clark deposeth that the said James Harrison reading theproclamation, said that Queen Catherine was queen, Nan Bullen should not bequeen, nor the king should be no king but on his bearing. 

William Dalton deposeth, that in his hearing the above-named James said, Iwill take none for queen but Queen Catherine--who the devil made NanBullen, that hoore, queen? I will never take her for queen--and he the saidWilliam answered, "Hold thy peace, thou wot'st not what thou sayest--butthat thou art a priest I should punish thee, that others should takeexample. "

Richard Sumner and John Clayton depose, that they came in company with thesaid James from Perbalt to Eccleston, when the said James did say, "This isa marvellous world--the king will put down the order of priests and destroythe Sacrament, but he cannot reign long, for York will be in Londonhastily. "[443]

Here was the later growth of the spirit which we saw a few monthspreviously in the monks of Furness. The mutterings of discontent haddeveloped into plain open treason, confident of success, and scarcelycaring to conceal itself--and Yorkshire was preparing for rebellion and"the Pilgrimage of Grace. "

There is another quarter also into which we must follow the proclamation, and watch the effect of the royal order in a scene where it is well that weshould for a few moments rest. Catherine was still at Ampthill, surroundedby her own attendants, who formed an inner circle, shielding her retirementagainst impertinent curiosity. She rarely or never allowed herself to beseen; Lord Mountjoy, with an official retinue, was in attendance in thehouse; but the occupation was not a pleasant one, and he was as willing torespect the queen's seclusion as she to remain secluded. Injunctionsarrived however from the court at the end of June, which compelled him torequest an interview; a deputation of the privy council had come down toinform the ex-queen of the orders of the government, and to desire thatthey might be put in force in her own family. Aware probably of the natureof the communication which was to be made to her, she refused repeatedly toadmit them to her presence. At length, however, she nerved herself for theeffort, and on the 3rd of July Mountjoy and the state commissioners wereinformed that she was ready to receive them. 

As they entered her room she was lying on a sofa. She had a bad cough, andshe had hurt her foot with a pin, and was unable to stand or walk. Herattendants were all present by her own desire; she was glad to see aroundher some sympathising human faces, to enable her to endure the cold hardeyes of the officials of the council. 

She inquired whether the message was to be delivered in writing or by wordof mouth. 

They replied that they had brought with them instructions which they wereto read, and that they were further charged with a message which was to bedelivered verbally. She desired that they would read their writtendespatch. It was addressed to the Princess Dowager, and she at onceexcepted to the name. She was not Princess Dowager, she said, but queen, and the king's true wife. She came to the king a clear maid for any bodilyknowledge of Prince Arthur; she had borne him lawful issue and no bastard, and therefore queen she was, and queen she would be while she lived. 

The commissioners were prepared for the objection, and continued, withoutreplying, to read. The paper contained a statement of worn-out unrealities;the old story of the judgment of the universities and the learned men, thesentence of convocation, and of the houses of parliament; and, finally, thefact of substantial importance, that the king, acting as he believedaccording to the laws of God, had married the Lady Anne Boleyn, who was nowhis lawful wife, and anointed Queen of England. 

Oh yes, she answered when they had done, we know that, and "we know theauthority by which it has been done--more by power than justice. " Theking's learned men were learned heretics; the honest learning was for her. As for the seals of the universities there were strange stories about theway in which they had been obtained. The universities and the parliamenthad done what the king bade them; and they had gone against theirconsciences in doing it; but it was of no importance to her--she was in thehands of the pope, who was God's vicar, and she acknowledged no otherjudge. 

The commissioners informed her of the decision of the council that she wasno longer to bear the title of queen. It stood, they said, neither with thelaws of God nor man, nor with the king's honour, to have two queens namedwithin the realm; and in fact, there was but one queen, the king's lawfulwife, to whom he was now married. 

She replied shortly that she was the king's lawful queen, and none other. 

There was little hope in her manner that anything which could be said wouldmove her; but her visitors were ordered to try her to the uttermost. 

The king, they continued, was surprised that she could be so disobedient;and not only that she was disobedient herself, but that she allowed andencouraged her servants in the same conduct. 

She was ready to obey the king; she answered, when she could do so withoutdisobeying God; but she could not damn her soul even for him. Her servants, she said, must do the best they could; they were standing round her as shewas speaking; and she turned to them with an apology, and a hope that theywould pardon her. She would hinder her cause, she said; and put her soul indanger, if on their account she were to relinquish her name, and she couldnot do it. 

The deputation next attempted her on her worldly side. If she would obey, they informed her that she would be allowed not only her jointure asPrincess Dowager and her own private fortune, but all the settlements whichhad been made upon her on her marriage with the king. 

She "passed not upon possessions, in regard of this matter, " she replied. It touched her conscience, and no worldly considerations were of theslightest moment. 

In disobeying the king, they said; seeing that she was none other than hissubject, she might give cause for dissension and disturbance; and she mightlose the favour of the people. 

She "trusted not, " she replied--she "never minded it, nor would she"--she"desired only to save her right; and if she should lose the favour of thepeople in defending that right, yet she trusted to go to heaven cum famâ etinfamiâ. "

Promises and persuasions being unavailing, they tried threats. She was toldthat if she persisted in so obstinate a course, the king would be obligedto make known to the world the offers which he had made to her, and the illreception which they had met with--and then he would perhaps withdraw thoseoffers, and conceive some evil opinions of high displeasure towards her. 

She answered that there was no manner of offers neither of lands nor goodsthat she had respect unto in comparison of her cause--and as to the loss ofthe king's affection, she trusted to God, to whom she would daily pray forhim. 

The learned council might as well have reasoned with the winds; orthreatened the waves of the sea. But they were not yet weary, and theirnext effort was as foolish as it was ungenerous. They suggested, "that ifshe did reserve the name of queen, it was thought that she would do it of avain desire and appetite of glory; and further, she might be an occasionthat the king would withdraw his love from her most dear daughter the LadyPrincess, which should chiefly move her, if none other cause did. "

They must have known little of Catherine, if they thought she could beinfluenced by childish vanity. It was for no vain glory that she cared, sheanswered proudly; she was the king's true wife, and her conscience forbadeher to call herself otherwise; the princess was his true begotten child;and as God hath given her to them, so for her part she would render heragain; neither for daughter, family, nor possessions, would she yield inher cause; and she made a solemn protestation, calling on every one presentto bear witness to what she said, that the king's wife she was, and suchshe would take herself to be, and that she would never surrender the nameof queen till the pope had decided that she must bear it no longer. 

So ended the first interview. Catherine, before the commissioners left her, desired to have a copy of the proposals which they had brought, that shemight translate and send them to Rome. They returned with them the nextday, when she requested to see the report which they intended to send tothe council of the preceding conversation. It was placed in her hands; andas she read it and found there the name of Princess Dowager, she took a penand dashed out the words, the mark of which indignant ink-stroke may now beseen in the letter from which this account is taken. [444] With the accuracyof the rest she appeared to be satisfied--only when she found again theirpoor suggestion that she was influenced by vanity, she broke out with aburst of passionate indignation. 

"I would rather be a poor beggar's wife, " she said, "and be sure of heaven, than queen of all the world, and stand in doubt thereof by reason of my ownconsent. I stick not so for vain glory, but because I know myself theking's true wife--and while you call me the king's subject, I was hissubject while he took me for his wife. But if he take me not for his wife, I came not into this Realm as merchandise, nor to be married to anymerchant; nor do I continue in the same but as his lawful wife, and not asa subject to live under his dominion otherwise. I have always demeanedmyself well and truly towards the king--and if it can be proved that eitherin writing to the pope or any other, I have either stirred or procuredanything against his Grace, or have been the means to any person to makeany motion which might be prejudicial to his Grace or to his Realm, I amcontent to suffer for it. I have done England little good, and I should besorry to do it any harm. But if I should agree to your motions andpersuasions, I should slander myself, and confess to have been the king'sharlot for twenty-four years. The cause, I cannot tell by what subtlemeans, has been determined here within the king's Realm, before a man ofhis own making, the Bishop of Canterbury, no person indifferent I think inthat behalf; and for the indifference of the place, I think the place hadbeen more indifferent to have been judged in hell; for no truth can besuffered here, whereas the devils themselves I suppose do tremble to seethe truth in this cause so sore oppressed. "[445]

Most noble, spirited, and like a queen. Yet she would never have beenbrought to this extremity, and she would have shown a truer nobleness, iffour years before she could have yielded at the pope's entreaty on thefirst terms which were proposed to her. Those terms would have required nohumiliating confessions; they would have involved no sentence on hermarriage nor touched her daughter's legitimacy. She would have broken nolaw of God, nor seemed to break it. She was required only to forget her owninterests; and she would not forget them, though all the world should bewrecked by her refusal. She denied that she was concerned in "motionsprejudicial to the king or to the Realm, " but she must have placed her owninterpretation on the words, and would have considered excommunication andinterdict a salutary discipline to the king and parliament. She knew thatthis sentence was imminent, that in its minor form it had already fallen;and she knew that her nephew and her friends in England were plotting togive effect to the decree. But we may pass over this. It is not for anEnglish writer to dwell upon those faults of Catherine of Arragon, whichEnglish remorse has honourably insisted on forgetting. Her injuries, inevitable as they were, and forced upon her in great measure by her ownwilfulness, remain among the saddest spots in the pages of our history. 

One other brief incident remains to be noticed here, to bring up before theimagination the features of this momentous summer. It is contained in thepostscript of a letter of Cranmer to Hawkins the ambassador in Germany; andthe manner in which the story is told is no less suggestive than the storyitself. 

The immediate present, however awful its import, will ever seem common andfamiliar to those who live and breathe in the midst of it. In the days ofthe September massacre at Paris, the theatres were open as usual; men ate, and drank, and laughed, and cried, and went about their common work, unconscious that those days which were passing by them, so much like otherdays, would remain the _dies nefasti_, accursed in the memory of mankindfor ever. Nothing is terrible, nothing is sublime in human things, so longas they are before our eyes. The great man has so much in common with menin general, the routine of daily life, in periods the most remarkable inhistory, contains so much that is unvarying, that it is only when time hasdone its work; and all which was unimportant has ceased to be remembered, that such men and such times stand out in their true significance. It mighthave been thought that to a person like Cranmer, the court at Dunstable, the coronation of the new queen, the past out of which these things hadrisen, and the future which they threatened to involve, would have seemedat least serious; and that engaged as he had been as a chief actor, in amatter which, if it had done nothing else, had broken the heart of ahigh-born lady whom once he had honoured as his queen, he would have beeneither silent about his exploits, or if he had spoken of them, would havespoken not without some show of emotion. We look for a symptom of feeling, but we do not find it. When the coronation festivities were concluded hewrote to his friend an account of what had been done by himself and othersin the light gossiping tone of easiest content; as if he were describingthe common incidents of a common day. It is disappointing, and not whollyto be approved of. Still less can we approve of the passage with which heconcludes his letter. 

"Other news we have none notable, but that one Frith, which was in theTower in prison, [446] was appointed by the King's Grace to be examinedbefore me, my Lord of London, my Lord of Winchester, my Lord of Suffolk, myLord Chancellor, and my Lord of Wiltshire; whose opinion was so notablyerroneous that we could not dispatch him, but were fain to leave him to thedetermination of his ordinary, which is the Bishop of London. His saidopinion is of such nature, that he thought it not necessary to be believedas an article of our faith that there is the very corporeal presence ofChrist within the host and sacrament of the altar; and holdeth on thispoint much after the opinion of Oecolampadius. 

"And surely I myself sent for him three or four times to persuade him toleave that imagination. But for all that we could do therein, he would notapply to any counsel. Notwithstanding now he is at a final end with allexaminations; for my Lord of London hath given sentence, and delivered himto the secular power when he looketh every day to go unto the fire. Andthere is also condemned with him one Andrew a tailor for the self-sameopinion; and thus fare you well. "[447]

These victims went as they were sentenced, dismissed to their martyr'scrowns at Smithfield, as Queen Anne Boleyn but a few days before hadreceived her golden crown at the altar of Westminster Abbey. Twenty yearslater another fire was blazing under the walls of Oxford; and the handwhich was now writing these light lines was blackening in the flames of it, paying there the penalty of the same "imagination" for which Frith and thepoor London tailor were with such cool indifference condemned. It isaffecting to know that Frith's writings were the instruments of Cranmer'sconversion; and the fathers of the Anglican church have left a monument oftheir sorrow for the shedding of this innocent blood in the Order of theCommunion service, which closes with the very words on which the primate, with his brother bishops, had sate in judgment. [448]

CHAPTER VI

THE PROTESTANTS

Where changes are about to take place of great and enduring moment, a kindof prologue, on a small scale, sometimes anticipates the true opening ofthe drama; like the first drops which give notice of the coming storm, oras if the shadows of the reality were projected forwards into the future, and imitated in dumb show the movements of the real actors in the story. 

Such a rehearsal of the English Reformation was witnessed at the close ofthe fourteenth century, confused, imperfect, disproportioned, to outwardappearance barren of results; yet containing a representative of each oneof the mixed forces by which that great change was ultimately effected, andforeshadowing even something of the course which it was to run. 

There was a quarrel with the pope upon the extent of the papal privileges;there were disputes between the laity and the clergy, --accompanied, as ifinvoluntarily, by attacks on the sacramental system and the Catholicfaith, --while innovation in doctrine was accompanied also with the tendencywhich characterised the extreme development of the laterProtestants--towards political republicanism, the fifth monarchy, andcommunity of goods. Some account of this movement must be given in thisplace, although it can be but a sketch only. "Lollardry"[449] has a historyof its own; but it forms no proper part of the history of the Reformation. It was a separate phenomenon, provoked by the same causes which producedtheir true fruit at a later period; but it formed no portion of the stem onwhich those fruits ultimately grew. It was a prelude which was played out, and sank into silence, answering for the time no other end than to make thename of heretic odious in the ears of the English nation. In their recoilfrom their first failure, the people stamped their hatred of heterodoxyinto their language; and in the word _miscreant_, misbeliever, as thesynonym of the worst species of reprobate, they left an indelible record ofthe popular estimate of the followers of John Wycliffe. 

The Lollard story opens with the disputes between the crown and the see ofRome on the presentation to English benefices. For the hundred and fiftyyears which succeeded the Conquest, the right of nominating thearchbishops, the bishops, and the mitred abbots, had been claimed andexercised by the crown. On the passing of the great charter, the church hadrecovered its liberties, and the privilege of free election had beenconceded by a special clause to the clergy. The practice which then becameestablished was in accordance with the general spirit of the Englishconstitution. On the vacancy of a see, the cathedral chapter applied to thecrown for a congé d'élire. The application was a form; the consent wasinvariable. A bishop was then elected by a majority of suffrages; his namewas submitted to the metropolitan, and by him to the pope. If the popesignified his approval, the election was complete; consecration followed;and the bishop having been furnished with his bulls of investiture, waspresented to the king, and from him received "the temporalities" of hissee. The mode in which the great abbots were chosen was precisely similar;the superiors of the orders to which the abbeys belonged were the channelsof communication with the pope, in the place of the archbishops; but theelections in themselves were free, and were conducted in the same manner. The smaller church benefices, the small monasteries or parish churches, were in the hands of private patrons, lay or ecclesiastical; but in thecase of each institution a reference was admitted, or was supposed to beadmitted, to the court of Rome. 

There was thus in the pope's hand an authority of an indefinite kind, whichit was presumed that his sacred office would forbid him to abuse, butwhich, however, if he so unfortunately pleased, he might abuse at hisdiscretion. He had absolute power over every nomination to an Englishbenefice; he might refuse his consent till such adequate reasons, materialor spiritual, as he considered sufficient to induce him to acquiesce, hadbeen submitted to his consideration. In the case of nominations to thereligious houses, the superiors of the various orders residing abroad hadequal facilities for obstructiveness; and the consequence of so large aconfidence in the purity of the higher orders of the Church became visiblein an act of parliament which it was found necessary to pass in1306-7. [450]

"Of late, " says this act, "it has come to the knowledge of the king, by thegrievous complaint of the honourable persons, lords, and other noblemen ofhis realm, that whereas monasteries, priories, and other religious houseswere founded to the honour and glory of God, and the advancement of holychurch, by the king and his progenitors, and by the said noblemen and theirancestors; and a very great portion of lands and tenements have been givenby them to the said monasteries, priories, and religious houses, and thereligious men serving God in them; to the intent that clerks and laymenmight be admitted in such houses, and that sick and feeble folk might bemaintained, hospitality, almsgiving, and other charitable deeds might bedone, and prayers be said for the souls of the founders and their heirs;the abbots, priors, and governors of the said houses, _and certain alienstheir superiors_, as the abbots and priors of the Cistertians, thePremonstrants, the orders of Saint Augustine and of Saint Benedict, andmany more of other religions and orders have at their own pleasure setdivers heavy, unwonted heavy and importable tallages, payments, andimpositions upon every of the said monasteries and houses subject untothem, in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, without the privity of theking and his nobility, contrary to the laws and customs of the said realm;and thereby the number of religious persons being oppressed by suchtallages, payments, and impositions, the service of God is diminished, almsare not given to the poor, the sick, and the feeble; the healths of theliving and the souls of the dead be miserably defrauded; hospitality, alms-giving, and other godly deeds do cease; and so that which in timespast was charitably given to godly uses and to the service of God, is nowconverted to an evil end, by permission whereof there groweth great scandalto the people. " To provide against a continuance of these abuses, it wasenacted that no "religious" persons should, under any pretence or form, send out of the kingdom any kind of tax, rent, or tallage; and that "priorsaliens" should not presume to assess any payment, charge, or other burdenwhatever upon houses within the realm. [451]

The language of this act was studiously guarded. The pope was not alludedto; the specific methods by which the extortion was practised were notexplained; the tax upon presentations to benefices, either having not yetdistinguished itself beyond other impositions, or the government trustingthat a measure of this general kind might answer the desired end. Lucrativeencroachments, however, do not yield so easily to treatment; nearly fiftyyears after it became necessary to re-enact the same statute; and whilerecapitulating the provisions of it, the parliament found it desirable topoint out more specifically the intention with which it was passed. 

The popes in the interval had absorbed in their turn from the heads of thereligious orders, the privileges which by them had been extorted from theaffiliated societies. Each English benefice had become the fountain of arivulet which flowed into the Roman exchequer, or a property to bedistributed as the private patronage of the Roman bishop: and the Englishparliament for the first time found itself in collision with the Father ofChristendom. 

"The pope, " says the fourth of the twenty-fifth of Edward III. , "accroaching to himself the signories of the benefices within the realm ofEngland, doth give and grant the same to aliens which did never dwell inEngland, and to cardinals which could not dwell here, and to others as wellaliens as denizens, whereby manifold inconveniences have ensued. " "Notregarding" the statute of Edward I. , he had also continued to present tobishopricks, abbeys, priories, and other valuable preferments: money inlarge quantities was carried out of the realm from the proceeds of theseoffices, and it was necessary to insist emphatically that the papalnominations should cease. They were made in violation of the law, and wereconducted with simony so flagrant that English benefices were sold in thepapal courts to any person who would pay for them, whether an Englishman ora stranger. It was therefore decreed that the elections to bishopricksshould be free as in time past, that the rights of patrons should bepreserved, and penalties of imprisonment, forfeiture, or outlawry, according to the complexion of the offence, should be attached to allimpetration of benefices from Rome by purchase or otherwise. [452]

If statute law could have touched the evil, these enactments would havebeen sufficient for the purpose; but the influence of the popes in Englandwas of that subtle kind which was not so readily defeated. The law wasstill defied, or still evaded; and the struggle continued till the close ofthe century, the legislature labouring patiently, but ineffectually, toconfine with fresh enactments their ingenious adversary. [453]

At length symptoms appeared of an intention on the part of the popes tomaintain their claims with spiritual censures, and the nation was obligedto resolve upon the course which, in the event of their resorting to thatextremity, it would follow. The lay lords[454] and the House of Commonsfound no difficulty in arriving at a conclusion. They passed a fresh penalstatute with prohibitions even more emphatically stringent, and decidedthat "if any man brought into this realm any sentence, summons, orexcommunication, contrary to the effect of the statute, he should incurpain of life and members, with forfeiture of goods; and if any prelate madeexecution of such sentence, his temporalities should be taken from him, andshould abide in the king's hands till redress was made. "[455]

So bold a measure threatened nothing less than open rupture. The act, however, seems to have been passed in haste, without determinedconsideration; and on second thoughts, it was held more prudent to attempta milder course. The strength of the opposition to the papacy lay with theCommons. [456] When the session of parliament was over, a great council wassummoned to reconsider what should be done, and an address was drawn up, and forwarded to Rome, with a request that the then reigning pope woulddevise some manner by which the difficulty could be arranged. [457] BonifaceIX. Replied with the same want of judgment which was shown afterwards on ananalogous occasion by Clement VII. He disbelieved the danger; and daringthe government to persevere, he granted a prebendal stall at Wells to anItalian cardinal, to which a presentation had been made already by theking. Opposing suits were instantly instituted between the claimants in thecourts of the two countries. A decision was given in England in favour ofthe nominee of the king, and the bishops agreeing to support the crown wereexcommunicated. [458] The court of Rome had resolved to try the issue by astruggle of force, and the government had no alternative but to surrenderat discretion, or to persevere at all hazards, and resist the usurpation. 

The proceedings on this occasion seem to have been unusual, and significantof the importance of the crisis. Parliament either was sitting at the timewhen the excommunication was issued, or else it was immediately assembled;and the House of Commons drew up, in the form of a petition to the king, adeclaration of the circumstances which had occurred. After having statedgenerally the English law on the presentation to benefices, "Now of late, "they added, "divers processes be made by his Holiness the Pope, andcensures of excommunication upon certain bishops, because they have madeexecution of the judgments [given in the king's courts], to the opendisherison of the crown; whereby, if remedy be not provided, the crown ofEngland, which hath been so free at all times, that it has been in noearthly subjection, should be submitted to the pope; and the laws andstatutes of the realm by him be defeated and avoided at his will, inperpetual destruction of the sovereignty of the king our lord, his crown, his regality, and all his realm. " The Commons, therefore, on their part, declared, "That the things so attempted were clearly against the king'scrown and his regality, used and approved of in the time of all hisprogenitors, and therefore they and all the liege commons of the realmwould stand with their said lord the king, and his said crown, in the casesaforesaid, to live and die. "[459] Whether they made allusion to the act of1389 does not appear--a measure passed under protest from one of theestates of the realm was possibly held unequal to meet the emergency--atall events they would not rely upon it. For after this peremptory assertionof their own opinion, they desired the king, "and required him in the wayof justice, " to examine severally the lords spiritual and temporal how theythought, and how they would stand. [460] The examination was made, and theresult was satisfactory. The lay lords replied without reservation thatthey would support the crown. The bishops (they were in a difficulty forwhich all allowance must be made) gave a cautious, but also a manly answer. They would not affirm, they said, that the pope had a right toexcommunicate them in such cases, and they would not say that he had not. It was clear, however, that legal or illegal, such excommunication wasagainst the privileges of the English crown, and therefore that, on thewhole, they would and ought to be with the crown, _loialment_, like loyalsubjects, as they were bound by their allegiance. [461]

In this unusual and emphatic manner, the three estates agreed that the popeshould be resisted; and an act passed "that all persons suing at the courtof Rome, and obtaining thence any bulls, instruments, sentences ofexcommunication which touched the king, or were against him, his regality, or his realm, and they which brought the same within the realm, or receivedthe same, or made thereof notification, or any other execution whatever, within the realm or without, they, their notaries, procurators, maintainersand abettors, fautors and counsellors, should be put out of the king'sprotection, and their lands and tenements, goods and chattels, beforfeited. "

The resolute attitude of the country terminated the struggle. Bonifaceprudently yielded, and for the moment; and indeed for ever under thisespecial form, the wave of papal encroachment was rolled back. The temperwhich had been roused in the contest, might perhaps have carried the nationfurther. The liberties of the crown had been asserted successfully. Theanalogous liberties of the church might have followed; and other channels, too, might have been cut off, through which the papal exchequer fed itselfon English blood. But at this crisis the anti-Roman policy was arrested inits course by another movement, which turned the current of suspicion, andfrightened back the nation to conservatism. 

While the crown and the parliament had been engaged with the pope, theundulations of the dispute had penetrated down among the body of thepeople, and an agitation had been commenced of an analogous kind againstthe spiritual authorities at home. The parliament had lamented that theduties of the religious houses were left unfulfilled, in consequence of theextortions of their superiors abroad. The people, who were equallyconvinced of the neglect of duty, adopted an interpretation of thephenomenon less favourable to the clergy, and attributed it to thetemptations of worldliness, and the self-indulgence generated by enormouswealth. 

This form of discontent found its exponent in John Wycliffe, the greatforerunner of the Reformation, whose austere figure stands out above thecrowd of notables in English history, with an outline not unlike that ofanother forerunner of a greater change. 

The early life of Wycliffe is obscure. Lewis, on the authority ofLeland, [462] says that he was born near Richmond, in Yorkshire. Fuller, though with some hesitation, prefers Durham. [463] He emerges into distinctnotice in 1360, ten years subsequent to the passing of the first Statute ofProvisors, having then acquired a great Oxford reputation as a lecturer indivinity, and having earned for himself powerful friends and powerfulenemies. He had made his name distinguished by attacks upon the clergy fortheir indolence and profligacy: attacks both written and orallydelivered--those written, we observe, being written in English, not inLatin. [464] In 1365, Islip, Archbishop of Canterbury, appointed him Wardenof Canterbury Hall; the appointment, however, was made with someirregularity, and the following year, Archbishop Islip dying, hissuccessor, Langham, deprived Wycliffe, and the sentence was confirmed bythe king. It seemed, nevertheless, that no personal reflection was intendedby this decision, for Edward III. Nominated the ex-warden one of hischaplains immediately after, and employed him on an important mission toBruges, where a conference on the benefice question was to be held with apapal commission. 

Other church preferment was subsequently given to Wycliffe; but Oxfordremained the chief scene of his work. He continued to hold hisprofessorship of divinity; and from this office the character of hishistory took its complexion. At a time when books were rare and difficultto be procured, lecturers who had truth to communicate fresh drawn from thefountain, held an influence which in these days it is as difficult toimagine as, however, it is impossible to overrate. Students from all Europeflocked to the feet of a celebrated professor, who became the leader of aparty by the mere fact of his position. 

The burden of Wycliffe's teaching was the exposure of the indolent fictionswhich passed under the name of religion in the established theory of thechurch. He was a man of most simple life; austere in appearance, with barefeet and russet mantle. [465] As a soldier of Christ, he saw in his GreatMaster and his Apostles the patterns whom he was bound to imitate. By thecontagion of example he gathered about him other men who thought as he did;and gradually, under his captaincy, these "poor priests, " as they werecalled--vowed to poverty because Christ was poor--vowed to accept nobenefice, lest they should misspend the property of the poor, and because, as apostles, they were bound to go where their Master called them, [466]spread out over the country as an army of missionaries, to preach the faithwhich they found in the Bible--to preach, not of relics and of indulgences, but of repentance and of the grace of God. They carried with them copies ofthe Bible which Wycliffe had translated, leaving here and there, as theytravelled, their costly treasures, as shining seed points of light; andthey refused to recognise the authority of the bishops, or their right tosilence them. 

If this had been all, and perhaps if Edward III. Had been succeeded by aprince less miserably incapable than his grandson Richard, Wycliffe mighthave made good his ground; the movement of the parliament against the popemight have united in a common stream with the spiritual move against thechurch at home, and the Reformation have been antedated by a century. Hewas summoned to answer for himself before the Archbishop of Canterbury in1377. He appeared in court supported by the presence of John of Gaunt, Dukeof Lancaster, the eldest of Edward's surviving sons, and the authoritieswere unable to strike him behind so powerful a shield. 

But the "poor priests" had other doctrines besides those which theydiscovered in the Bible, relating to subjects with which, as apostles, theywould have done better if they had shrunk from meddling. The inefficiencyof the clergy was occasioned, as Wycliffe thought, by their wealth and bytheir luxury. He desired to save them from a temptation too heavy for themto bear, and he insisted that by neglect of duty their wealth had beenforfeited, and that it was the business of the laity to take it from itsunworthy possessors. The invectives with which the argument was accompaniedproduced a widely-spread irritation. The reins of the country fellsimultaneously into the weak hands of Richard II. , and the consequence wasa rapid spread of disorder. In the year which followed Richard's accession, consistory judges were assaulted in their courts, sanctuaries wereviolated, priests were attacked and ill-treated in church, church-yard, andcathedral, and even while engaged in the mass;[467] the contagion of thegrowing anarchy seems to have touched even Wycliffe himself, and touchedhim in a point most deeply dangerous. 

His theory of property, and his study of the character of Christ, had ledhim to the near confines of Anabaptism. Expanding his views upon theestates of the church into an axiom, he taught that "charters of perpetualinheritance were impossible;" "that God could not give men civilpossessions for ever;"[468] "that property was founded in grace, andderived from God;" and "seeing that forfeiture was the punishment oftreason, and all sin was treason against God, the sinner must consequentlyforfeit his right to what he held of God. " These propositions were nakedlytrue, as we shall most of us allow; but God has his own methods ofenforcing extreme principles; and human legislation may only meddle withthem at its peril. The theory as an abstraction could be represented asapplying equally to the laity as to the clergy, and the new teachingreceived a practical comment in 1381, in the invasion of London by Wat, thetyler of Dartford, and 100, 000 men, who were to level all ranks, put downthe church, and establish universal liberty. [469] Two priests accompaniedthe insurgents, not Wycliffe's followers, but the licentious counterfeitsof them, who trod inevitably in their footsteps, and were as inevitablycountenanced by their doctrines. The insurrection was attended with thebloodshed, destruction, and ferocity natural to such outbreaks. TheArchbishop of Canterbury and many gentlemen were murdered; and a great partof London sacked and burnt. It would be absurd to attribute this disasterto Wycliffe, nor was there any desire to hold him responsible for it; butit is equally certain that the doctrines which he had taught wereincompatible, at that particular time, with an effective repression of thespirit which had caused the explosion. It is equally certain that he hadbrought discredit on his nobler efforts by ambiguous language on a subjectof the utmost difficulty, and had taught the wiser and better portion ofthe people to confound heterodoxy of opinion with sedition, anarchy, anddisorder. 

So long as Wycliffe lived, his own lofty character was a guarantee for theconduct of his immediate disciples; and although his favour had fardeclined, a party in the state remained attached to him, with sufficientinfluence to prevent the adoption of extreme measures against the "poorpriests. " In the year following the insurrection, an act was passed fortheir repression in the House of Lords, and was sent down by the king tothe Commons. They were spoken of as "evil persons, " going from place toplace in defiance of the bishops, preaching in the open air to greatcongregations at markets and fairs, "exciting the people, " "engenderingdiscord between the estates of the realm. " The ordinaries had no power tosilence them, and had therefore desired that commissions should be issuedto the sheriffs of the various counties, to arrest all such persons, andconfine them, until they would "justify themselves" in the ecclesiasticalcourts. [470] Wycliffe petitioned against the bill, and it was rejected; notso much perhaps out of tenderness for the reformer, as because the LowerHouse was excited by the controversy with the pope; and being doubtfullydisposed towards the clergy, was reluctant to subject the people to a morestringent spiritual control. 

But Wycliffe himself meanwhile had received a clear intimation of his owndeclining position. His opposition to the church authorities, and hisefforts at re-invigorating the faith of the country, had led him intodoubtful statements on the nature of the eucharist; he had entangledhimself in dubious metaphysics on a subject on which no middle course isreally possible; and being summoned to answer for his language before asynod in London, he had thrown himself again for protection on the Duke ofLancaster. The duke (not unnaturally under the circumstances) declined toencourage what he could neither approve nor understand;[471] and Wycliffe, by his great patron's advice, submitted. He read a confession of faithbefore the bishops, which was held satisfactory; he was forbidden, however, to preach again in Oxford, and retired to his living of Lutterworth, inLeicestershire, where two years later he died. 

With him departed all which was best and purest in the movement which hehad commenced. The zeal of his followers was not extinguished, but thewisdom was extinguished which had directed it; and perhaps the beingtreated as the enemies of order had itself a tendency to make them whatthey were believed to be. They were left unmolested for the next twentyyears, the feebleness of the government, the angry complexion which hadbeen assumed by the dispute with Rome, and the political anarchy in theclosing decade of the century, combining to give them temporary shelter;but they availed themselves of their opportunity to travel further on thedangerous road on which they had entered; and on the settlement of thecountry under Henry IV. They fell under the general ban which struck downall parties who had shared in the late disturbances. 

They had been spared in 1382, only for more sharp denunciation, and a morecruel fate; and Boniface having healed, on his side, the wounds which hadbeen opened, by well-timed concessions, there was no reason left forleniency. The character of the Lollard teaching was thus described (perhapsin somewhat exaggerated language) in the preamble of the act of 1401. [472]

"Divers false and perverse people, " so runs the act _De Hereticocomburendo_, "of a certain new sect, damnably thinking of the faith of thesacraments of the church, and of the authority of the same, against the lawof God and of the church, usurping the office of preaching, do perverselyand maliciously, in divers places within the realm, preach and teach diversnew doctrines, and wicked erroneous opinions, contrary to the faith anddetermination of Holy Church. And of such sect and wicked doctrines theymake unlawful conventicles, they hold and exercise schools, they make andwrite books, they do wickedly instruct and inform people, and excite andstir them to sedition and insurrection, and make great strife and divisionamong the people, and other enormities horrible to be heard, daily doperpetrate and commit. The diocesans cannot by their jurisdictionspiritual, without aid of the King's Majesty, sufficiently correct thesesaid false and perverse people, nor refrain their malice, because they dogo from diocess to diocess, and will not appear before the said diocesans;but the jurisdiction spiritual, the keys of the church, and the censures ofthe same, do utterly contemn and despise; and so their wicked preachingsand doctrines they do from day to day continue and exercise, to thedestruction of all order and rule, right and reason. "

Something of these violent accusations is perhaps due to the horror withwhich false doctrine in matters of faith was looked upon in the Catholicchurch, the grace by which alone an honest life was made possible beingheld to be dependent upon orthodoxy. But the Lollards had become politicalrevolutionists as well as religious reformers; the revolt against thespiritual authority had encouraged and countenanced a revolt against thesecular; and we cannot be surprised, therefore, that these institutionsshould have sympathised with each other, and have united to repress adanger which was formidable to both. 

The bishops, by this act, received arbitrary power to arrest and imprisonon suspicion, without check or restraint of law, at their will andpleasure. Prisoners who refused to abjure their errors, who persisted inheresy, or relapsed into it after abjuration, were sentenced to be burnt atthe stake--a dreadful punishment, on the wickedness of which the world haslong been happily agreed. Yet we must remember that those who condemnedteachers of heresy to the flames, considered that heresy itself involvedeverlasting perdition; that they were but faintly imitating the severitywhich orthodoxy still ascribes to Almighty God Himself. 

The tide which was thus setting back in favour of the church did not yet, however, flow freely, and without a check. The Commons consented tosacrifice the heretics, but they still cast wistful looks on the lands ofthe religious houses. On two several occasions, in 1406, and again 1410, spoliation was debated in the Lower House, and representations were madeupon the subject to the king. [473] The country, too, continued to beagitated with war and treason; and when Henry V. Became king, in 1412, thechurch was still uneasy, and the Lollards were as dangerous as ever. Whether by prudent conduct they might have secured a repeal of thepersecuting act is uncertain; it is more likely, from their conduct, thatthey had made their existence incompatible with the security of anytolerable government. 

A rumour having gone abroad that the king intended to enforce the lawsagainst heresy, notices were found fixed against the doors of the Londonchurches, that if any such measure was attempted, a hundred thousand menwould be in arms to oppose it. These papers were traced to Sir JohnOldcastle, otherwise called Lord Cobham, a man whose true character is moredifficult to distinguish, in the conflict of the evidence which has comedown to us about him, than that of almost any noticeable person in history. He was perhaps no worse than a fanatic. He was certainly prepared, if wemay trust the words of a royal proclamation (and Henry was personallyintimate with Oldcastle, and otherwise was not likely to have exaggeratedthe charges against him), he was prepared to venture a rebellion, with theprospect of himself becoming the president of some possible Lollardcommonwealth. [474] The king, with swift decisiveness, annihilated theincipient treason. Oldcastle was himself arrested. He escaped out of theTower into Scotland; and while Henry was absent in France he seems to haveattempted to organise some kind of Scotch invasion; but he was soon afteragain taken on the Welsh Border, tried and executed. An act which waspassed in 1414 described his proceedings as an "attempt to destroy theking, and all other manner of estates of the realm, as well spiritual astemporal, and also all manner of policy, and finally the laws of the land. "The sedition was held to have originated in heresy, and for the betterrepression of such mischiefs in time to come, the lord chancellor, thejudges, the justices of the peace, the sheriffs, mayors, bailiffs, andevery other officer having government of people, were sworn on enteringtheir office to use their best power and diligence to detect and prosecuteall persons suspected of so heinous a crime. [475]

Thus perished Wycliffe's labour, --not wholly, because his translation ofthe Bible still remained a rare treasure; as seed of future life, whichwould spring again under happier circumstances. But the sect which heorganised, the special doctrines which he set himself to teach, after abrief blaze of success, sank into darkness; and no trace remained ofLollardry except the black memory of contempt and hatred with which theheretics of the fourteenth century were remembered by the English people, long after the actual Reformation had become the law of the land. [476]

So poor a close to a movement of so fair promise was due partly to theagitated temper of the times; partly, perhaps, to a want of judgment inWycliffe; but chiefly and essentially because it was an untimely birth. Wycliffe saw the evil; he did not see the remedy; and neither in his mindnor in the mind of the world about him, had the problem ripened itself forsolution. England would have gained little by the premature overthrow ofthe church, when the house out of which the evil spirit was cast out couldhave been but swept and garnished for the occupation of the seven devils ofanarchy. 

The fire of heresy continued to smoulder, exploding occasionally ininsurrection, [477] occasionally blazing up in nobler form, when some poorseeker for the truth, groping for a vision of God in the darkness of theyears which followed, found his way into that high presence through themartyr's fire. But substantially, the nation relapsed into obedience--thechurch was reprieved for a century. Its fall was delayed till the spirit inwhich it was attacked was winnowed clean of all doubtful elements--untilProtestantism had recommenced its enterprise in a desire, not for a faireradjustment of the world's good things, but in a desire for some deeper, truer, nobler, holier insight into the will of God. It recommenced notunder the auspices of a Wycliffe, not with the partial countenance of agovernment which was crossing swords with the Father of CatholicChristendom, and menacing the severance of England from the unity of thefaith, but under a strong dynasty of undoubted Catholic loyalty, with theentire administrative power, secular as well as spiritual, in the hands ofthe episcopate. It sprung up spontaneously, unguided, unexcited, by thevital necessity of its nature, among the masses of the nation. 

Leaping over a century, I pass to the year 1525, at which time, or aboutwhich time, a society was enrolled in London calling itself "TheAssociation of Christian Brothers. "[478] It was composed of poor men, chiefly tradesmen, artisans, a few, a very few of the clergy; but it wascarefully organised, it was provided with moderate funds, which wereregularly audited; and its paid agents went up and down the countrycarrying Testaments and tracts with them, and enrolling in the order allpersons who dared to risk their lives in such a cause. The harvest had beenlong ripening. The records of the bishops' courts[479] are filled from thebeginning of the century with accounts of prosecutions for heresy--withprosecutions, that is, of men and women to whom the masses, thepilgrimages, the indulgences, the pardons, the effete paraphernalia of theestablishment, had become intolerable; who had risen up in blindresistance, and had declared, with passionate anger, that whatever was thetruth, all this was falsehood. The bishops had not been idle; they hadplied their busy tasks with stake and prison, and victim after victim hadbeen executed with more than necessary cruelty. But it was all in vain:punishment only multiplied offenders, and "the reek" of the martyrs, as wassaid when Patrick Hamilton was burnt at St. Andrews, "infected all that itdid blow upon. "[480]

There were no teachers, however, there were no books, no unity ofconviction, only a confused refusal to believe in lies. Copies ofWycliffe's Bible remained, which parties here and there, under deathpenalties if detected, met to read;[481] copies, also, of some of histracts[482] were extant; but they were unprinted transcripts, most rare andprecious, which the watchfulness of the police made it impossible tomultiply through the press, and which remained therefore necessarily in thepossession of but a few fortunate persons. 

The Protestants were thus isolated in single groups or families, withoutorganisation, without knowledge of each other, with nothing to give themcoherency as a party; and so they might have long continued, except for animpulse from some external circumstances. They were waiting for direction, and men in such a temper are seldom left to wait in vain. 

The state of England did but represent the state of all Northern Europe. Wherever the Teutonic language was spoken, wherever the Teutonic nature wasin the people, there was the same weariness of unreality, the same cravingfor a higher life. England rather lagged behind than was a leader in therace of discontent. In Germany, all classes shared the common feeling; inEngland it was almost confined to the lowest. But, wherever it existed, itwas a free, spontaneous growth in each separate breast, not propagated byagitation, but springing self sown, the expression of the honest anger ofhonest men at a system which had passed the limits of toleration, and whichcould be endured no longer. At such times the minds of men are like a trainof gunpowder, the isolated grains of which have no relation to each other, and no effect on each other, while they remain unignited; but let a sparkkindle but one of them, and they shoot into instant union in a commonexplosion. Such a spark was kindled in Germany, at Wittenberg, on the 31stof October, 1517. In the middle of that day Luther's denunciation ofIndulgences was fixed against the gate of All Saints church, Wittenberg, and it became, like the brazen serpent in the wilderness, the sign to whichthe sick spirits throughout the western world looked hopefully and werehealed. In all those millions of hearts the words of Luther found an echo, and flew from lip to lip, from ear to ear. The thing which all were longingfor was done, and in two years from that day there was scarcely perhaps avillage from the Irish Channel to the Danube in which the name of Lutherwas not familiar as a word of hope and promise. Then rose a common cry forguidance. Books were called for--above all things, the great book of all, the Bible. Luther's inexhaustible fecundity flowed with a steady stream, and the printing presses in Germany and in the Free Towns of theNetherlands, multiplied Testaments and tracts in hundreds of thousands. Printers published at their own expense as Luther wrote. [483] The continentwas covered with disfrocked monks who had become the pedlars of theseprecious wares;[484] and as the contagion spread, noble young spirits fromother countries, eager themselves to fight in God's battle, came toWittenberg to learn from the champion who had struck the first blow attheir great enemy how to use their weapons. "Students from all nations cameto Wittenberg, " says one, "to hear Luther and Melancthon. As they came insight of the town they returned thanks to God with clasped hands; for fromWittenberg, as heretofore from Jerusalem, proceeded the light ofevangelical truth, to spread thence to the utmost parts of the earth. "[485]Thither came young Patrick Hamilton from Edinburgh, whose "reek" was of somuch potency, a boy-enthusiast of nature as illustrious as his birth; andthither came also from England, which is here our chief concern, WilliamTyndal, a man whose history is lost in his work, and whose epitaph is theReformation. Beginning life as a restless Oxford student, he moved thenceto Cambridge, thence to Gloucestershire, to be tutor in a knight's family, and there hearing of Luther's doings, and expressing himself with too warmapproval to suit his patron's conservatism, [486] he fell into disgrace. From Gloucestershire he removed to London, where Cuthbert Tunstall hadlately been made bishop, and from whom he looked for countenance in anintention to translate the New Testament. Tunstall showed littleencouragement to this enterprise; but a better friend rose where he wasleast looked for; and a London alderman, Humfrey Monmouth by name, hearingthe young dreamer preach on some occasion at St. Dunstan's, took him to hishome for half a year, and kept him there: where "the said Tyndal, " as thealderman declared, "lived like a good priest, studying both night and day;he would eat but sodden meat, by his good will, nor drink but small singlebeer; nor was he ever seen to wear linen about him all the time of hisbeing there. "[487] The half year being passed, Monmouth gave him tenpounds, with which provision he went off to Wittenberg; and the alderman, for assisting him in that business, went to the Tower--escaping, however, we are glad to know, without worse consequences than a short imprisonment. Tyndal saw Luther, [488] and under his immediate direction translated theGospels and Epistles while at Wittenberg. Thence he returned to Antwerp, and settling there under the privileges of the city, he was joined by Joy, who shared his great work with him. Young Frith from Cambridge came to himalso, and Barnes, and Lambert, and many others of whom no written recordremains, to concert a common scheme of action. 

In Antwerp, under the care of these men, was established the printingpress, by which books were supplied, to accomplish for the teaching ofEngland what Luther and Melancthon were accomplishing for Germany. Tyndal'sTestament was first printed, then translations of the best German books, reprints of Wycliffe's tracts or original commentaries. Such volumes as thepeople most required were here multiplied as fast as the press couldproduce them; and for the dissemination of these precious writings, thebrave London Protestants dared, at the hazard of their lives, to formthemselves into an organised association. 

It is well to pause and look for a moment at this small band of heroes; forheroes they were, if ever men deserved the name. Unlike the first reformerswho had followed Wycliffe, they had no earthly object, emphatically none;and equally unlike them, perhaps, because they had no earthly object, theywere all, as I have said, poor men--either students, like Tyndal, orartisans and labourers who worked for their own bread, and in tough contactwith reality, had learnt better than the great and the educated thedifference between truth and lies. Wycliffe had royal dukes and noblemenfor his supporters--knights and divines among his disciples--a king and aHouse of Commons looking upon him, not without favour. The firstProtestants of the sixteenth century had for their king the champion ofHoly Church, who had broken a lance with Luther; and spiritual rulers overthem alike powerful and imbecile, whose highest conception of Christianvirtue was the destruction of those who disobeyed their mandates. Themasses of the people were indifferent to a cause which promised them nomaterial advantage; and the Commons of Parliament, while contending withthe abuses of the spiritual authorities, were laboriously anxious to washtheir hands of heterodoxy. "In the crime of heresy, thanked be God, " saidthe bishops in 1529, "there hath no notable person fallen in our time;" nochief priest, chief ruler, or learned Pharisee--not one. "Truth it is thatcertain apostate friars and monks, lewd priests, bankrupt merchants, vagabonds and lewd idle fellows of corrupt nature, have embraced theabominable and erroneous opinions lately sprung in Germany, and by themhave been some seduced in simplicity and ignorance. Against these, ifjudgment have been exercised according to the laws of the realm, we bewithout blame. If we have been too remiss or slack, we shall gladly do ourduty from henceforth. "[489] Such were the first Protestants in the eyes oftheir superiors. On one side was wealth, rank, dignity, the weight ofauthority, the majority of numbers, the prestige of centuries; here toowere the phantom legions of superstition and cowardice; and here were allthe worthier influences so pre-eminently English, which lead wise men toshrink from change, and to cling to things established, so long as onestone of them remains upon another, This was the army of conservatism. Opposed to it were a little band of enthusiasts, armed only with truth andfearlessness; "weak things of the world, " about to do battle in God's name;and it was to be seen whether God or the world was the stronger. They werearmed, I say, with the truth. It was that alone which could have given themvictory in so unequal a struggle. They had returned to the essentialfountain of life; they re-asserted the principle which has lain at the rootof all religions, whatever their name or outward form, which once burntwith divine lustre in that Catholicism which was now to pass away; thefundamental axiom of all real life, that the service which man owes to Godis not the service of words or magic forms, or ceremonies or opinions; butthe service of holiness, of purity, of obedience to the everlasting laws ofduty. 

When we look through the writings of Latimer, the apostle of the EnglishReformation, when we read the depositions against the martyrs, and thelists of their crimes against the established faith, we find no oppositeschemes of doctrine, no "plans of salvation;" no positive system oftheology which it was held a duty to believe; these things were of latergrowth, when it became again necessary to clothe the living spirit in aperishable body. We find only an effort to express again the oldexhortation of the Wise Man--"Will you hear the beginning and the end ofthe whole matter? Fear God and keep his commandments; for that is the wholeduty of man. "

Had it been possible for mankind to sustain themselves upon this singleprinciple without disguising its simplicity, their history would have beenpainted in far other colours than those which have so long chequered itssurface. This, however, has not been given to us; and perhaps it never willbe given. As the soul is clothed in flesh, and only thus is able to performits functions in this earth, where it is sent to live; as the thought mustfind a word before it can pass from mind to mind; so every great truthseeks some body, some outward form in which to exhibit its powers. Itappears in the world, and men lay hold of it, and represent it tothemselves, in histories, in forms of words, in sacramental symbols; andthese things which in their proper nature are but illustrations, stiffeninto essential fact, and become part of the reality. So arises in era afterera an outward and mortal expression of the inward immortal life; and atonce the old struggle begins to repeat itself between the flesh and thespirit, the form and the reality. For a while the lower tendencies are heldin check; the meaning of the symbolism is remembered and fresh; it is aliving language, pregnant and suggestive. Bye and bye, as the mind passesinto other phases, the meaning is forgotten; the language becomes a deadlanguage; and the living robe of life becomes a winding-sheet ofcorruption. The form is represented as everything, the spirit as nothing;obedience is dispensed with; sin and religion arrange a compromise; andoutward observances, or technical inward emotions, are converted intojugglers' tricks, by which men are enabled to enjoy their pleasures andescape the penalties of wrong. Then such religion becomes no religion, buta falsehood; and honourable men turn away from it, and fall back in hasteupon the naked elemental life. 

This, as I understand it, was the position of the early Protestants. Theyfound the service of God buried in a system where obedience was dissipatedinto superstition; where sin was expiated by the vicarious virtues of othermen; where, instead of leading a holy life, men were taught that theirsouls might be saved through masses said for them, at a money rate, bypriests whose licentiousness disgraced the nation which endured it; asystem in which, amidst all the trickery of the pardons, pilgrimages, indulgences, --double-faced as these inventions are--wearing one meaning inthe apologies of theologians, and quite another to the multitude who liveand suffer under their influence--one plain fact at least is visible. Thepeople substantially learnt that all evils which could touch either theirspirits or their bodies, might be escaped by means which resolvedthemselves, scarcely disguised, into the payment of moneys. 

The superstition had lingered long; the time had come when it was to passaway. Those in whom some craving lingered for a Christian life turned tothe heart of the matter, to the book which told them who Christ was, andwhat he was; and finding there that holy example for which they longed, they flung aside in one noble burst of enthusiastic passion, the disguisewhich had concealed it from them. They believed in Christ, not in thebowing rood, or the pretended wood of the cross on which he suffered; andwhen that saintly figure had once been seen--the object of all love, thepattern of all imitation--thenceforward neither form nor ceremony shouldstand between them and their God. 

Under much confusion of words and thoughts, confusion pardonable in allmen, and most of all in them, this seems to me to be transparently visiblein the aim of these "Christian Brothers;" a thirst for some fresh and nobleenunciation of the everlasting truth, the one essential thing for all mento know and believe. And therefore they were strong; and therefore they atlast conquered. Yet if we think of it, no common daring was required inthose who would stand out at such a time in defence of such a cause. Thebishops might seize them on mere suspicion; and the evidence of the mostabandoned villains sufficed for their conviction. [490] By the act of HenryV. , every officer, from the lord chancellor to the parish constable, wassworn to seek them out and destroy them; and both bishops and officials hadshown no reluctance to execute their duty. Hunted like wild beasts fromhiding-place to hiding-place, decimated by the stake, with the certaintythat however many years they might be reprieved, their own lives wouldclose at last in the same fiery trial; beset by informers, imprisoned, racked, and scourged; worst of all, haunted by their own infirmities, theflesh shrinking before the dread of a death of agony--thus it was that theystruggled on; earning for _themselves_ martyrdom--for _us_, the freeEngland in which we live and breathe. Among the great, until Cromwell cameto power, they had but one friend, and he but a doubtful one, who longbelieved the truest kindness was to kill them. Henry VIII. Was alwaysattracted towards the persons of the reformers. Their open bearingcommanded his respect. Their worst crime in the bishops' eyes--thetranslating the Bible--was in his eyes not a crime, but a merit; he hadhimself long desired an authorised English version, and at length compelledthe clergy to undertake it; while in the most notorious of the menthemselves, in Tyndal and in Frith, he had more than once expressed ananxious interest. [491] But the convictions of his early years were long inyielding. His feeling, though genuine, extended no further than to pity, toa desire to recover estimable heretics out of errors which he wouldendeavour to pardon. They knew, and all the "brethren" knew, that if theypersisted, they must look for the worst from the king and from everyearthly power; they knew it, and they made their account with it. Aninformer deposed to the council, that he had asked one of the society "howthe King's Grace did take the matter against the sacrament; which answered, the King's Highness was extreme against their opinions, and would punishthem grievously; also that my Lords of Norfolk and Suffolk, my Lord Marquisof Exeter, with divers other great lords, were very extreme against them. Then he (the informer) asked him how he and his fellows would do seeingthis, the which answered they had two thousand books out against theBlessed Sacrament, in the commons' hands; and if it were once in thecommons' heads, they would have no further care. "[492]

Tyndal then being at work at Antwerp, and the society for the dispersion ofhis books thus preparing itself in England, the authorities were not slowin taking the alarm. The isolated discontent which had prevailed hithertohad been left to the ordinary tribunals; the present danger called formeasures of more systematic coercion. This duty naturally devolved onWolsey, and the office of Grand Inquisitor, which he now assumed, could nothave fallen into more competent hands. 

Wolsey was not cruel. There is no instance, I believe, in which he of hisspecial motion sent a victim to the stake;--it would be well if the samepraise could be allowed to Cranmer. There was this difference between thecardinal and other bishops, that while they seemed to desire to punish, Wolsey was contented to silence; while they, in their conduct of trials, made escape as difficult as possible, Wolsey sought rather to makesubmission easy. He was too wise to suppose that he could cauterise heresy, while the causes of it, in the corruption of the clergy, remainedunremoved; and the remedy to which he trusted, was the infusing new vigourinto the constitution of the church. [493] Nevertheless, he was determinedto repress, as far as outward measures could repress it, the spread of thecontagion; and he set himself to accomplish his task with the full energyof his nature, backed by the whole power, spiritual and secular, of thekingdom. The country was covered with his secret police, arrestingsuspected persons and searching for books. In London the scrutiny was sostrict that at one time there was a general flight and panic; suspectedbutchers, tailors, and carpenters, hiding themselves in the holds ofvessels in the river, and escaping across the Channel. [494] Even there theywere not safe. Heretics were outlawed by a common consent of the Europeangovernments. Special offenders were hunted through France by the Englishemissaries with the permission and countenance of the court, [495] and therewas an attempt to arrest Tyndal at Brussels, from which, for that time, hehappily escaped. [496]

Simultaneously the English universities fell under examination, inconsequence of the appearance of dangerous symptoms among the youngerstudents. Dr. Barnes, returning from the continent, had used violentlanguage in a pulpit at Cambridge; and Latimer, then a neophyte in heresy, had grown suspect, and had alarmed the heads of houses. Complaints againstboth of them were forwarded to Wolsey, and they were summoned to London toanswer for themselves. 

Latimer, for some cause, found favour with the cardinal, and was dismissed, with a hope on the part of his judge that his accusers might prove ashonest as he appeared to be, and even with a general licence topreach. [497] Barnes was less fortunate; he was far inferior to Latimer; anoisy, unwise man, without reticence or prudence. In addition to hisoffences in matters of doctrine, he had attacked Wolsey himself withsomewhat vulgar personality; and it was thought well to single him out fora public, though not a very terrible admonition. His house had beensearched for books, which he was suspected, and justly suspected, of havingbrought with him from abroad. These, however, through a timely warning ofthe danger, had been happily secreted, [498] or it might have gone harderwith him. As it was, he was committed to the Fleet on the charge of havingused heretical language. An abjuration was drawn up by Wolsey, which hesigned; and while he remained in prison preparations were made for aceremony, in which he was to bear a part, in St. Paul's church, by whichthe Catholic authorities hoped to produce some salutary effect on thedisaffected spirits of London. 

Vast quantities of Tyndal's publications had been collected by the police. The bishops, also, had subscribed among themselves[499] to buy up thecopies of the New Testament before they left Antwerp;--an unpromisingmethod, like an attempt to extinguish fire by pouring oil upon it; they hadbeen successful, however, in obtaining a large immediate harvest, and apyramid of offending volumes was ready to be consumed in a solemn _auto dafé_. 

In the morning of Shrove Sunday, then, 1527, we are to picture to ourselvesa procession moving along London streets from the Fleet prison to St. Paul's Cathedral. The warden of the Fleet was there, and the knightmarshal, and the tipstaffs, and "all the company they could make, " "withbills and glaives;" and in the midst of these armed officials, six menmarching in penitential dresses, one carrying a lighted taper five pounds'weight, the others with symbolic fagots, signifying to the lookers-on thefate which their crimes had earned for them, but which this time, in mercy, was remitted. One of these was Barnes; the other five were "Stillyard men, "undistinguishable by any other name, but detected members of thebrotherhood. 

It was eight o'clock when they arrived at St. Paul's. The people hadflocked in crowds before them. The public seats and benches were filled. All London had hurried to the spectacle. A platform was erected in thecentre of the nave, on the top of which, enthroned in pomp of purple andgold and splendour, sate the great cardinal, supported on each side witheighteen bishops, mitred abbots, and priors--six-and-thirty in all; hischaplains and "spiritual doctors" sitting also where they could find place, "in gowns of damask and satin. " Opposite the platform, over the north doorof the cathedral, was a great crucifix--a famous image, in those dayscalled the Rood of Northen; and at the foot of it, inside a rail, a firewas burning, with the sinful books, the Tracts and Testaments, ranged roundit in baskets, waiting for the execution of sentence. 

Such was the scene into the midst of which the six prisoners entered. Asecond platform stood in a conspicuous place in front of the cardinal'sthrone, where they could be seen and heard by the crowd; and there upontheir knees, with their fagots on their shoulders, they begged pardon ofGod and the Holy Catholic Church for their high crimes and offences. Whenthe confession was finished Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, preached a sermon:and the sermon over, Barnes turned to the people, declaring that "he wasmore charitably handled than he deserved, his heresies were so heinous anddetestable. "

There was no other religious service: mass had perhaps been said previousto the admission into the church of heretics lying under censure; and theknight marshal led the prisoners down from the stage to the fire underneaththe crucifix. They were taken within the rails, and three times led roundthe blazing pile, casting in their fagots as they passed. The contents ofthe baskets were heaped upon the fagots, and the holocaust was complete. This time, an unbloody sacrifice was deemed sufficient. The church wassatisfied with penance, and Fisher pronounced the prisoners absolved, andreceived back into communion. [500]

So ended this strange exhibition, designed to work great results on theconsciences of the spectators. It may be supposed, however, that men whomthe tragedies of Smithfield failed to terrify, were not likely to beaffected deeply by melodrame and blazing paper. 

A story follows of far deeper human interest, a story in which thepersecution is mirrored with its true lights and shadows, unexaggerated byrhetoric; and which, in its minute simplicity, brings us face to face withthat old world, where men like ourselves lived, and worked, and suffered, three centuries ago. 

Two years before the time at which we have now arrived, Wolsey, inpursuance of his scheme of converting the endowments of the religioushouses to purposes of education, had obtained permission from the pope tosuppress a number of the smaller monasteries. He had added largely to themeans thus placed at his disposal from his own resources, and had foundedthe great college at Oxford, which is now called Christchurch. [501]Desiring his magnificent institution to be as perfect as art could make it, he had sought his professors in Rome, in the Italian universities, wherevergenius or ability could be found; and he had introduced into the foundationseveral students from Cambridge, who had been reported to him as being ofunusual promise. Frith, of whom we have heard, was one of these. Of therest, John Clark, Sumner, and Taverner are the most noticeable. At the timeat which they were invited to Oxford, they were tainted, or some of themwere tainted, in the eyes of the Cambridge authorities, with suspicion ofheterodoxy;[502] and it is creditable to Wolsey's liberality, that he setaside these unsubstantiated rumours, not allowing them to weigh againstability, industry, and character. The church authorities thought only ofcrushing what opposed them, especially of crushing talent, because talentwas dangerous. Wolsey's noble anxiety was to court talent, and if possibleto win it. 

The young Cambridge students, however, ill repaid his confidence (so, atleast, it must have appeared to him), and introduced into Oxford the risingepidemic. Clark, as was at last discovered, was in the habit of reading St. Paul's Epistles to young men in his rooms; and a gradually increasingcircle of undergraduates, of three or four years' standing, [503] fromvarious colleges, formed themselves into a spiritual freemasonry, some ofthem passionately insisting on being admitted to the lectures, in spite ofwarnings from Clark himself, whose wiser foresight knew the risk which theywere running, and shrank from allowing weak giddy spirits to thrustthemselves into so fearful peril. [504]

This little party had been in the habit of meeting for about sixmonths, [505] when at Easter, 1527, Thomas Garret, a fellow ofMagdalen, [506] who had gone out of residence, and was curate at All Hallowschurch, in London, re-appeared in Oxford. Garret was a secret member of theLondon Society, and had come down at Clark's instigation, to feel his wayin the university. So excellent a beginning had already been made, that hehad only to improve upon it. He sought out all such young men as were givento Greek, Hebrew, and the polite Latin;[507] and in this visit met with somuch encouragement, that the Christmas following he returned again, thistime bringing with him treasures of forbidden books, imported by "theChristian Brothers;" New Testaments, tracts and volumes of German divinity, which he sold privately among the initiated. 

He lay concealed, with his store, at "the house of one Radley, "[508] theposition of which cannot now be identified; and there he remained forseveral weeks, unsuspected by the university authorities, till orders weresent by Wolsey to the Dean of Christchurch, for his arrest. Preciseinformation was furnished at the same time respecting himself, his missionin Oxford, and his place of concealment. [509]

The proctors were put upon the scent, and directed to take him; but one ofthem, Arthur Cole, of Magdalen, by name, not from any sympathy withGarret's objects, as the sequel proved, but probably from old acquaintance, for they were fellows at the same college, gave him information of hisdanger, and warned him to escape. 

His young friends, more alarmed for their companion than for themselves, held a meeting instantly to decide what should be done; and at this meetingwas Anthony Dalaber, an undergraduate of Alban Hall, and one of Clark'spupils, who will now tell the story of what followed. 

"The Christmas before that time, I, Anthony Dalaber, the scholar of AlbanHall, who had books of Master Garret, had been in my country, atDorsetshire, at Stalbridge, where I had a brother, parson of this parish, who was very desirous to have a curate out of Oxford, and willed me in anywise to get him one there, if I could. This just occasion offered, it wasthought good among the brethren (for so we did not only call one another, but were indeed one to another), that Master Garret, changing his name, should be sent forth with my letters into Dorsetshire, to my brother, toserve him there for a time, until he might secretly convey himself fromthence some whither over the sea. According hereunto I wrote my letters inall haste possible unto my brother, for Master Garret to be his curate; butnot declaring what he was indeed, for my brother was a rank papist, andafterwards was the most mortal enemy that ever I had, for the Gospel'ssake. 

"So on Wednesday (Feb. 18), in the morning before Shrovetide, Master Garretdeparted out of Oxford towards Dorsetshire, with my letter, for his newservice. "

The most important person being thus, as was supposed, safe from immediatedanger, Dalaber was at leisure to think a little about himself; andsupposing, naturally, that the matter would not end there, and that somechange of residence might be of advantage for his own security, he movedoff from Alban Hall (as undergraduates it seems were then at liberty to do)to Gloucester College, [510] under pretence that he desired to study civillaw, for which no facilities existed at the hall. This little matter wasaffected on the Thursday; and all Friday and Saturday morning he "was somuch busied in setting his poor stuff in order, his bed, his books, andsuch things else as he had, " that he had no leisure to go forth anywherethose two days, Friday and Saturday. 

"Having set up my things handsomely, " he continues, "the same day, beforenoon, I determined to spend that whole afternoon, until evensong time, atFrideswide College, [511] at my book in mine own study; and so shut mychamber door unto me, and my study door also, and took into my head to readFrancis Lambert upon the Gospel of St. Luke, which book only I had thenwithin there. All my other books written on the Scriptures, of which I hadgreat numbers, I had left in my chamber at Alban's Hall, where I had made avery secret place to keep them safe in, because it was so dangerous to haveany such books. And so, as I was diligently reading in the same book ofLambert upon Luke, suddenly one knocked at my chamber door very hard, whichmade me astonished, and yet I sat still and would not speak; then heknocked again more hard, and yet I held my peace; and straightway heknocked again yet more fiercely; and then I thought this: peradventure itis somebody that hath need of me; and therefore I thought myself bound todo as I would be done unto; and so, laying my book aside, I came to thedoor and opened it, and there was Master Garret, as a man amazed, whom Ithought to have been with my brother, and one with him. "

Garret had set out on his expedition into Dorsetshire, but had beenfrightened, and had stolen back into Oxford on the Friday, to his oldhiding place, where, in the middle of the night, the proctors had takenhim. He had been carried to Lincoln, and shut up in a room in the rector'shouse, where he had been left all day. In the afternoon the rector went tochapel, no one was stirring about the college, and he had taken advantageof the opportunity to slip the bolt of the door and escape. He had a friendat Gloucester College, "a monk who had bought books of him;" and Gloucesterlying on the outskirts of the town, he had hurried down there as thereadiest place of shelter. The monk was out; and as no time was to be lost, Garret asked the servant on the staircase to show him Dalaber's rooms. 

As soon as the door was opened, "he said he was undone, for he was taken. ""Thus he spake unadvisedly in the presence of the young man, who at onceslipped down the stairs, " it was to be feared, on no good errand. "Then Isaid to him, " Dalaber goes on, "alas, Master Garret, by this youruncircumspect coming here and speaking so before the young man, you havedisclosed yourself and utterly undone me. I asked him why he was not inDorsetshire. He said he had gone a day's journey and a half; but he was sofearful, his heart would none other but that he must needs return againunto Oxford. With deep sighs and plenty of tears, he prayed me to help toconvey him away; and so he cast off his hood and gown wherein he came tome, and desired me to give him a coat with sleeves, if I had any; and hetold me that he would go into Wales, and thence convey himself, if hemight, into Germany. Then I put on him a sleeved coat of mine. He wouldalso have had another manner of cap of me, but I had none but priestlike, such as his own was. 

"Then kneeled we both down together upon our knees, and lifting up ourhearts and hands to God our heavenly Father, desired him, with plenty oftears, so to conduct and prosper him in his journey, that he might wellescape the danger of all his enemies, to the glory of His Holy Name, if Hisgood pleasure and will so were. And then we embraced and kissed the one theother, the tears so abundantly flowing out from both our eyes, that we allbewet both our faces, and scarcely for sorrow could we speak one toanother. And so he departed from me, apparelled in my coat, being committedunto the tuition of our Almighty and merciful Father. 

"When he was gone down the stairs from my chamber, I straightways did shutmy chamber door, and went into my study; and taking the New Testament in myhands, kneeled down on my knees, and with many a deep sigh and salt tear, Idid, with much deliberation, read over the tenth chapter of St. Matthew'sGospel, [512] praying that God would endue his tender and lately-born littleflock in Oxford with heavenly strength by his Holy Spirit; that quietly totheir own salvation, with all godly patience, they might bear Christ'sheavy cross, which I now saw was presently to be laid on their young andweak backs, unable to bear so huge a burden without the greater help of hisHoly Spirit. 

"This done, I laid aside my book safe, folded up Master Garret's gown andhood, and so, having put on my short gown, and shut my doors, I wenttowards Frideswide (Christchurch), to speak with that worthy martyr of God, Master Clark. But of purpose I went by St. Mary's church, to go first untoCorpus Christi College, to speak with Diet and Udal, my faithful brethrenand fellows in the Lord. By chance I met by the way a brother of ours, oneMaster Eden, fellow of Magdalen, who, as soon as he saw me, said, we wereall undone, for Master Garret was returned, and was in prison. I said itwas not so; he said it was. I heard, quoth he, our Proctor, Master Cole, say and declare the same this day. Then I told him what was done; and somade haste to Frideswide, to find Master Clark, for I thought that he andothers would be in great sorrow. 

"Evensong was begun; the dean and the canons were there in their greyamices; they were almost at Magnificat before I came thither. I stood inthe choir door and heard Master Taverner play, and others of the chapelthere sing, with and among whom I myself was wont to sing also; but now mysinging and music were turned into sighing and musing. As I there stood, incometh Dr. Cottisford, [513] the commissary, as fast as ever he could go, bareheaded, as pale as ashes (I knew his grief well enough); and to thedean he goeth into the choir, were he was sitting in his stall, and talkedwith him, very sorrowfully: what, I know not; but whereof I might and didtruly guess. I went aside from the choir door to see and hear more. Thecommissary and dean came out of the choir, wonderfully troubled as itseemed. About the middle of the church, met them Dr. London, [514] puffing, blustering, and blowing like a hungry and greedy lion seeking his prey. They talked together awhile; but the commissary was much blamed by them, insomuch that he wept for sorrow. 

"The doctors departed, and sent abroad their servants and spies everywhere. Master Clark, about the middle of the compline, [515] came forth of thechoir. I followed him to his chamber, and declared what had happened thatafternoon of Master Garret's escape. Then he sent for one Master Sumner andMaster Bets, fellows and canons there. In the meantime he gave me a verygodly exhortation, praying God to give us all the wisdom of the serpent andthe harmlessness of doves, for we should shortly have much need thereof. When Master Sumner and Master Bets came, he caused me to declare again thewhole matter to them two. Then desiring them to tell our other brethren inthat college, I went to Corpus Christi College, to comfort our brethrenthere, where I found in Diet's chamber, looking for me, Fitzjames, Diet, and Udal. They all knew the matter before by Master Eden, whom I had sentunto Fitzjames. So I tarried there and supped with them, where they hadprovided meat and drink for us before my coming; and when we had ended, Fitzjames would needs have me to lie that night with him in my old lodgingat Alban's Hall. But small rest and little sleep took we both there thatnight. "

The next day, which was Sunday, Dalaber rose at five o'clock, and as soonas he could leave the Hall, hastened off to his rooms at Gloucester. Thenight had been wet and stormy, and his shoes and stockings were coveredwith mud. The college gates, when he reached them, were still closed, anunusual thing at that hour; and he walked up and down under the walls inthe bleak grey morning, till the clock struck seven, "much disquieted, hishead full of forecasting cares, " but resolved, like a brave man, that comewhat would, he would accuse no one, and declare nothing but what he saw wasalready known. The gates were at last opened; he went to his rooms, and forsome time his key would not turn in the door, the lock having been meddledwith. At length he succeeded in entering, and found everything inconfusion, his bed tossed and tumbled, his study door open, and his clothesstrewed about the floor. A monk who occupied the opposite rooms, hearinghim return, came to him and said that the commissary and the two proctorshad been there looking for Garret. Bills and swords had been thrust throughthe bed-straw, and every corner of the room searched for him. Findingnothing, they had left orders that Dalaber, as soon as he returned, shouldappear before the prior of the students. 

"This so troubled me, " Dalaber says, "that I forgot to make clean my hoseand shoes, and to shift me into another gown; and all bedirted as I was, Iwent to the said prior's chamber. " The prior asked him where he had sleptthat night. At Alban's Hall, he answered, with his old bedfellow, Fitzjames. The prior said he did not believe him, and asked if Garret hadbeen at his rooms the day before. He replied that he had. Whither had hegone, then? the prior inquired; and where was he at that time? "Ianswered, " says Dalaber, "that I knew not, unless he was gone to Woodstock;he told me that he would go there, because one of the keepers had promisedhim a piece of venison to make merry with at Shrovetide. This tale Ithought meetest, though it were nothing so. "[516]

At this moment the university beadle entered with two of the commissary'sservants, bringing a message to the prior that he should repair at once toLincoln, taking Dalaber with him. "I was brought into the chapel, " thelatter continues, "and there I found Dr. Cottisford, commissary; Dr. Higdon, Dean of Cardinal's College; and Dr. London, Warden of New College;standing together at the altar. They called for chairs and sate down, andthen [ordered] me to come to them; they asked me what my name was, how longI had been at the university, what I studied, " with various otherinquiries: the clerk of the university, meanwhile, bringing pens, ink, andpaper, and arranging a table with a few loose boards upon tressels. A massbook, he says, was then placed before him, and he was commanded to lay hishand upon it, and swear that he would answer truly such questions as shouldbe asked him. At first he refused; but afterwards, being persuaded, "partlyby fair words, and partly by great threats, " he promised to do as theywould have him; but in his heart he "meant nothing so to do. " "So I laid myhand on the book, " he goes on, "and one of them gave me my oath, andcommanded me to kiss the book. They made great courtesy between them whoshould examine me; at last, the rankest Pharisee of them all took upon himto do it. 

"Then he asked me again, by my oath, where Master Garret was, and whither Ihad conveyed him. I said I had not conveyed him, nor yet wist where he was, nor whither he was gone, except he were gone to Woodstock, as I had beforesaid. Surely, they said, I brought him some whither this morning, for theymight well perceive by my foul shoes and dirty hosen that I had travelledwith him the most part of the night. I answered plainly, that I lay atAlban's Hall with Sir Fitzjames, and that I had good witness thereof. Theyasked me where I was at evensong. I told them at Frideswide, and that Isaw, first, Master Commissary, and then Master Doctor London, come thitherto Master Dean. Doctor London and the Dean threatened me that if I wouldnot tell the truth I should surely be sent to the Tower of London, andthere be racked, and put into Little-ease. [517]

"At last when they could get nothing out of me whereby to hurt or accuseany man, or to know anything of that which they sought, they all threetogether brought me up a long stairs, into a great chamber, over MasterCommissary's chamber, wherein stood a great pair of very high stocks. ThenMaster Commissary asked me for my purse and girdle, and took away my moneyand my knives; and then they put my legs into the stocks, and so locked mefast in them, in which I sate, my feet being almost as high as my head; andso they departed, locking fast the door, and leaving me alone. 

"When they were all gone, then came into my remembrance the worthyforewarning and godly declaration of that most constant martyr of God, Master John Clark, who, well nigh two years before that, when I didearnestly desire him to grant me to be his scholar, said unto me after thissort: 'Dalaber, you desire you wot not what, and that which you are, Ifear, unable to take upon you; for though now my preaching be sweet andpleasant to you, because there is no persecution laid on you for it, yetthe time will come, and that, peradventure, shortly, if ye continue to livegodly therein, that God will lay on you the cross of persecution, to tryyou whether you can as pure gold abide the fire. You shall be called andjudged a heretic; you shall be abhorred of the world; your own friends andkinsfolk will forsake you, and also hate you; you shall be cast intoprison, and none shall dare to help you; you shall be accused beforebishops, to your reproach and shame, to the great sorrow of all yourfriends and kinsfolk. Then will ye wish ye had never known this doctrine;then will ye curse Clark, and wish that ye had never known him because hehath brought you to all these troubles. '

"At which words, I was so grieved that I fell down on my knees at his feet, and with tears and sighs besought him that, for the tender mercy of God, hewould not refuse me; saying that I trusted, verily, that he which had begunthis in me would not forsake me, but would give me grace to continuetherein to the end. When he heard me say so, he came to me, took me in hisarms and kissed me, the tears trickling from his eyes; and said unto me:'The Lord God Almighty grant you so to do; and from henceforth for ever, take me for your father, and I will take you for my son in Christ. '"

In these meditations the long Sunday morning wore away. A little beforenoon the commissary came again to see if his prisoner was more amenable;finding him, however, still obstinate, he offered him some dinner--apromise which we will hope he fulfilled, for here Dalaber's own narrativeabruptly forsakes us, [518] leaving uncompleted, at this point, the mostvivid picture which remains to us of a fraction of English life in thereign of Henry VIII. If the curtain fell finally on the little group ofstudents, this narrative alone would furnish us with rare insight into thecircumstances under which the Protestants fought their way. The story, however, can be carried something further, and the strangest incidentconnected with it remains to be told. 

Dalaber breaks off on Sunday at noon. The same day, or early the followingmorning, he was submitted once more to examination: this time, for thediscovery of his own offences, and to induce him to give up hisconfederates. With respect to the latter he proved "marvellous obstinate. ""All that was gotten of him was with much difficulty;" nor would he confessto any names as connected with heresy or heretics except that of Clark, which was already known. About himself he was more open. He wrote his "bookof heresy, " that is, his confession of faith, "with his own hand"--hisevening's occupation, perhaps, in the stocks in the rector of Lincoln'shouse; and the next day he was transferred to prison. [519]

This offender being thus disposed of, and strict secrecy being observed toprevent the spread of alarm, a rapid search was set on foot for books inall suspected quarters. The fear of the authorities was that "the infectpersons would flee, " and "convey" their poison "away with them. "[520] Theofficials, once on the scent of heresy, were skilful in running down thegame. No time was lost, and by Monday evening many of "the brethren" hadbeen arrested, their rooms examined, and their forbidden treasuresdiscovered and rifled. Dalaber's store was found "hid with marvelloussecresy;" and in one student's desk a duplicate of Garret's list--thetitles of the volumes with which the first "Religious Tract Society" setthemselves to convert England. 

Information of all this was conveyed in haste by Dr. London to the Bishopof Lincoln, as the ordinary of the university; and the warden told hisstory with much self-congratulation. On one point, however, the news whichhe had to communicate was less satisfactory. Garret himself wasgone--utterly gone. Dalaber was obstinate, and no clue to the track of thefugitive could be discovered. The police were at fault; neither bribes northreats could elicit anything; and in these desperate circumstances, as hetold the bishop, the three heads of houses conceived that they might straina point of propriety for so good a purpose as to prevent the escape of aheretic. Accordingly, after a full report of the points of their success, Doctor London went on to relate the following remarkable proceeding:

"After Master Garret escaped, _the commissary being in extreme pensiveness, knew no other remedy but this extraordinary, and caused a figure to be madeby one expert in astronomy--and his judjment doth continually persist uponthis, that he fled in a tawny coat south-eastward, and is in the middle ofLondon, and will shortly to the sea side_. He was curate unto the parson ofHoney Lane. [521] It is likely he is privily cloaked there. Wherefore, assoon as I knew the judgment of this astronomer, I thought it expedient andmy duty with all speed to ascertain your good lordship of all the premises;that in time your lordship may advertise my lord his Grace, and my lord ofLondon. It will be a gracious deed that he and all his pestiferous works, which he carrieth about, might be taken, to the salvation of his soul, opening of many privy heresies, and extinction of the same. "[522]

We might much desire to know what the bishop's sensations were in readingthis letter--to know whether it occurred to him that in this naïveacknowledgment, the Oxford heresy hunters were themselves confessing to anact of heresy; and that by the law of the church, which they were so eagerto administer, they were liable to the same death which they were sozealous to secure for the poor vendors of Testaments. So indeed they reallywere. Consulting the stars had been ruled from immemorial time to bedealing with the devil; the penalty of it was the same as for witchcraft;yet here was a reverend warden of a college considering it his duty towrite eagerly of a discovery obtained by these forbidden means, to his owndiocesan, begging him to communicate with the Cardinal of York and theBishop of London, that three of the highest church authorities in Englandmight become _participes criminis_, by acting on this diabolicalinformation. 

Meanwhile, the commissary, not wholly relying on the astrologer, butresolving prudently to make use of the more earthly resources which were athis disposal, had sent information of Garret's escape to the corporationsof Dover, Rye, Winchester, Southampton, and Bristol, with descriptions ofthe person of the fugitive; and this step was taken with so muchexpedition, that before the end of the week no vessel was allowed to leaveeither of those harbours without being strictly searched. 

The natural method proved more effectual than the supernatural, thoughagain with the assistance of a singular accident. Garret had not gone toLondon; unfortunately for himself, he had not gone to Wales as he hadintended. He left Oxford, as we saw, the evening of Saturday, February21st. That night he reached a village called Corkthrop, [523] where he layconcealed till Wednesday; and then, not in the astrologer's orange-tawnydress, but in "a courtier's coat and buttoned cap, " which he had by somemeans contrived to procure, he set out again on his forlorn journey, makingfor the nearest sea-port, Bristol, where the police were looking out toreceive him. His choice of Bristol was peculiarly unlucky. The "chapman" ofthe town was the step-father of Cole, the Oxford proctor: to this person, whose name was Master Wilkyns, the proctor had written a special letter, inaddition to the commissary's circular; and the family connection acting asa spur to his natural activity, a coast guard had been set before Garret'sarrival, to watch for him down the Avon banks, and along the Channel shorefor fifteen miles. All the Friday night "the mayor, with the aldermen, andtwenty of the council, had kept privy watch, " and searched suspicioushouses at Master Wilkyns's instance; the whole population were on thealert, and when the next afternoon, a week after his escape, the poorheretic, footsore and weary, dragged himself into the town, he found thathe had walked into the lion's mouth. [524] He quickly learnt this danger towhich he was exposed, and hurried off again with the best speed which hecould command; but it was too late. The chapman, alert and indefatigable, had heard that a stranger had been seen in the street; the police were setupon his track, and he was taken at Bedminster, a suburb on the oppositebank of the Avon, and hurried before a magistrate, where he at onceacknowledged his identity. 

With such happy success were the good chapman's efforts rewarded. Yet inthis world there is no light without shadow; no pleasure without its alloy. In imagination, Master Wilkyns had thought of himself conducting theprisoner in triumph into the streets of Oxford, the hero of the hour. Thesour formality of the law condemned him to ill-merited disappointment. Garret had been taken beyond the liberties of the city; it was necessary, therefore, to commit him to the county gaol, and he was sent to Ilchester. "Master Wilkyns offered himself to be bound to the said justice in threehundred pounds to discharge him of the said Garret, and to see him surelyto Master Proctor's of Oxford; yet could he not have him, for the justicesaid that the order of the law would not so serve. "[525] The fortunatecaptor had therefore to content himself with the consciousness of hisexploit, and the favourable report of his conduct which was sent to thebishops; and Garret went first to Ilchester, and thence was taken byspecial writ, and surrendered to Wolsey. 

Thus unkind had fortune shown herself to the chief criminal, guilty of theunpardonable offence of selling Testaments at Oxford, and therefore hunteddown as a mad dog, and a common enemy of mankind. He escaped for thepresent the heaviest consequences, for Wolsey persuaded him to abjure. Afew years later we shall again meet him, when he had recovered his betternature, and would not abjure, and died as a brave man should die. In themeantime we return to the university, where the authorities were busytrampling out the remains of the conflagration. 

Two days after his letter respecting the astrologer, the Warden of NewCollege wrote again to the Diocesan, with an account of his furtherproceedings. He was an efficient inquisitor, and the secrets of the poorundergraduates had been unravelled to the last thread. Some of "thebrethren" had confessed; all were in prison; and the doctor desiredinstructions as to what should be done with them. It must be said for Dr. London, that he was anxious that they should be treated leniently. Dalaberdescribed him as a roaring lion, and he was a bad man, and came at last toa bad end. But it is pleasant to find that even he, a mere blusteringarrogant official, was not wholly without redeeming points of character;and as little good will be said for him hereafter, the following passage inhis second letter may be placed to the credit side of his account. The tonein which he wrote was at least humane, and must pass for more than anexpression of natural kindness, when it is remembered that he wasaddressing a person with whom tenderness for heresy was a crime. 

"These youths, " he said, "have not been long conversant with Master Garret, nor have greatly perused his mischievous books; and long before MasterGarret was taken, divers of them were weary of these works, and deliveredthem to Dalaber. I am marvellous sorry for the young men. If they be openlycalled upon, although they appear not greatly infect, yet they shall neveravoid slander, because my Lord's Grace did send for Master Garret to betaken. I suppose his Grace will know of your good lordship everything. Nothing shall be hid, I assure your good lordship, an every one of themwere my brother; and I do only make this moan for these youths, for surelythey be of the most towardly young men in Oxford; and as far as I do yetperceive, not greatly infect, but much to blame for reading any part ofthese works. "[526]

Doctor London's intercession, if timid, was generous; he obviously wishedto suggest that the matter should be hushed up, and that the offendingparties should be dismissed with a reprimand. If the decision had restedwith Wolsey, it is likely that this view would have been readily actedupon. But the Bishop of Lincoln was a person in whom the spirit of humanityhad been long exorcised by the spirit of an ecclesiastic. He was staggeringalong the last years of a life against which his own register[527] bearsdreadful witness, and he would not burden his conscience with mercy toheretics. He would not mar the completeness of his barbarous career. Hesingled out three of the prisoners--Garret, Clark, and Ferrars[528]--andespecially entreated that they should be punished. "They be three perilousmen, " he wrote to Wolsey, "and have been the occasion of the corruption ofyouth. They have done much mischief, and for the love of God let them behandled thereafter. "[529]

Wolsey had Garret in his own keeping, and declined to surrender him. Ferrars had been taken at the Black Friars, in London, [530] and making hissubmission, was respited and escaped with abjuration. But Clark was atOxford, in the bishop's power, and the wicked old man was allowed to workhis will upon him. A bill of heresy was drawn, which the prisoner wasrequired to sign. He refused, and must have been sent to the stake, had henot escaped by dying prematurely of the treatment which he had received inprison. [531] His last words only are recorded. He was refused thecommunion, not perhaps as a special act of cruelty, but because the laws ofthe church would not allow the holy thing to be profaned by the touch of aheretic. When he was told that it would not be suffered, he said "_crede etmanducâsti_"--"faith is the communion;" and so passed away; a very nobleperson, so far as the surviving features of his character will let usjudge; one who, if his manhood had fulfilled the promise of his youth, would have taken no common part in the Reformation. 

The remaining brethren were then dispersed. Some were sent home to theirfriends--others, Anthony Dalaber among them, were placed on their trial, and being terrified at their position, recanted, and were sentenced to dopenance. Ferrars was brought to Oxford for the occasion, and we discernindistinctly (for the mere fact is all which survives) a great fire atCarfax; a crowd of spectators, and a procession of students marching upHigh Street with fagots on their shoulders, the solemn beadles leading themwith gowns and maces. The ceremony was repeated to which Dr. Barnes hadbeen submitted at St. Paul's. They were taken three times round the fire, throwing in each first their fagot, and then some one of the offendingbooks, in token that they repented and renounced their errors. 

Thus was Oxford purged of heresy. The state of innocence which Dr. Londonpathetically lamented[532] was restored, and the heads of houses had peacetill their rest was broken by a ruder storm. 

In this single specimen we may see a complete image of Wolsey'spersecution, as with varying details it was carried out in every town andvillage from the Tweed to the Land's End. I dwell on the stories ofindividual suffering, not to colour the narrative, or to re-awaken feelingsof bitterness which may well rest now and sleep for ever; but because, through the years in which it was struggling for recognition, the historyof Protestantism is the history of its martyrs. No rival theology, as Ihave said, had as yet shaped itself into formulas. We have not to trace anyslow growing elaboration of opinion. Protestantism, before it became anestablishment, was a refusal to live any longer in a lie. It was a fallingback upon the undefined untheoretic rules of truth and piety which lay uponthe surface of the Bible, and a determination rather to die than to mockwith unreality any longer the Almighty Maker of the world. We do not lookin the dawning manifestations of such a spirit for subtleties of intellect. Intellect, as it ever does, followed in the wake of the higher virtues ofmanly honesty and truthfulness. And the evidences which were to effect theworld's conversion were so cunningly arranged syllogistic demonstrations, but once more those loftier evidences which lay in the calm endurance byheroic men of the extremities of suffering, and which touched--not the mindwith conviction, but the heart with admiring reverence. 

In the concluding years of his administration Wolsey was embarrassed withthe divorce. Difficulties were gathering round him, from the failure of hishopes abroad and the wreck of his popularity at home; and the activity ofthe persecution was something relaxed, as the guiding mind of the greatminister ceased to have leisure to attend to it. The bishops, however, continued, each in his own diocese, to act with such vigour as theypossessed. Their courts were unceasingly occupied with vexatious suits, commenced without reason, and conducted without justice. They summonedarbitrarily as suspected offenders whoever had the misfortune to haveprovoked their dislike; either compelling them to criminate themselves byquestions on the intricacies of theology, [533] or allowing sentence to bepassed against them on the evidence of abandoned persons, who would nothave been admissible as witnesses before the secular tribunals. [534]

It might have been thought that the clear perception which was shown by theHouse of Commons of the injustice with which the trials for heresy wereconducted, the disregard, shameless and flagrant, of the provisions of thestatutes under which the bishops were enabled to proceed, might have ledthem to reconsider the equity of persecution in itself; or, at least, toremove from the office of judges persons who had shown themselves sosignally unfit to exercise that office. It would have been indecent, however, if not impossible, to transfer to a civil tribunal the cognisanceof opinion; and, on the other hand, there was as yet among the upperclasses of the laity no kind of disposition to be lenient towards those whowere really unorthodox. The desire so far was only to check the recklessand random accusations of persons whose offence was to have criticised, notthe doctrine but the moral conduct, of the church authorities. TheProtestants, although from the date of the meeting of the parliament andWolsey's fall their ultimate triumph was certain, gained nothing in itsimmediate consequences. They suffered rather from the eagerness of thepolitical reformers to clear themselves from complicity with heterodoxy;and the bishops were even taunted with the spiritual dissensions of therealm as an evidence of their indolence and misconduct. [535] Language ofthis kind boded ill for the "Christian Brethren;" and the choice ofWolsey's successor for the office of chancellor soon confirmed theirapprehensions; Wolsey had chastised them with whips; Sir Thomas More wouldchastise them with scorpions; and the philosopher of the _Utopia_, thefriend of Erasmus, whose life was of blameless beauty, whose genius wascultivated to the highest attainable perfection, was to prove to the worldthat the spirit of persecution is no peculiar attribute of the pedant, thebigot, of the fanatic, but may co-exist with the fairest graces of thehuman character. The lives of remarkable men usually illustrate someemphatic truth. Sir Thomas More may be said to have lived to illustrate thenecessary tendencies of Romanism in an honest mind convinced of its truth;to show that the test of sincerity in a man who professes to regardorthodoxy as an essential of salvation, is not the readiness to endurepersecution, but the courage which will venture to inflict it. 

The seals were delivered to the new chancellor in November, 1529. By hisoath on entering office he was bound to exert himself to the utmost for thesuppression of heretics:[536] he was bound, however, equally to obey theconditions under which the law allowed them to be suppressed. Unfortunatelyfor his reputation as a judge, he permitted the hatred of "that kind ofmen, " which he did not conceal that he felt, [537] to obscure his conscienceon this important feature of his duty, and tempt him to imitate the worstiniquities of the bishops. I do not intend in this place to relate thestories of his cruelties in his house at Chelsea, [538] which he himselfpartially denied, and which at least we may hope were exaggerated. Beingobliged to confine myself to specific instances, I choose rather those onwhich the evidence is not open to question; and which prove against More, not the zealous execution of a cruel law, for which we may not fairly holdhim responsible, but a disregard, in the highest degree censurable, of hisobligations as a judge. 

The acts under which heretics were liable to punishment, were the 15th ofthe 2nd of Henry IV. , and the 1st of the 2nd of Henry V. 

By the act of Henry IV. , the bishops were bound to bring offenders to trialin open court, within three months of their arrest, if there were no lawfulimpediment. If conviction followed, they might imprison at theirdiscretion. Except under these conditions, they were not at liberty toimprison. 

By the act of Henry V. , a heretic, if he was first indicted before asecular judge, was to be delivered within ten days (or if possible, ashorter period) to the bishop, "to be acquit or convict" by a jury in thespiritual court, and to be dealt with accordingly. [539]

The secular judge might detain a heretic for ten days before delivering himto the bishop. The bishop might detain him for three months before histrial. Neither the secular judge nor the bishop had power to inflictindefinite imprisonment at will while the trial was delayed; nor if on thetrial the bishop failed in securing a conviction, was he at liberty todetain the accused person any longer on the same charge, because the resultwas not satisfactory to himself. These provisions were not preposterouslylenient. Sir Thomas More should have found no difficulty in observing themhimself, and in securing the observance of them by the bishops, at least incases where he was himself responsible for the first committal. It is to befeared that he forgot that he was a judge in his eagerness to be apartisan, and permitted no punctilious legal scruples to interfere with themore important object of ensuring punishment to heretics. 

The first case which I shall mention is one in which the Bishop of Londonwas principally guilty; not, however, without More's countenance, and, ifFoxe is to be believed, his efficient support. 

In December, 1529, the month succeeding his appointment as chancellor, More, at the instance of the Bishop of London, [540] arrested a citizen ofLondon, Thomas Philips by name, on a charge of heresy. 

The prisoner was surrendered in due form to his diocesan, and was broughtto trial on the 4th of February; a series of articles being alleged againsthim by Foxford, the bishop's vicar-general. The articles were of the usualkind. The prisoner was accused of having used unorthodox expressions ontransubstantiation, on purgatory, pilgrimages, and confession. It does notappear whether any witnesses were produced. The vicar-general brought hisaccusations on the ground of general rumour, and failed to maintain them. Whether there were witnesses or not, neither the particular offences, noreven the fact of the general rumour, could be proved to the satisfaction ofthe jury. Philips himself encountered each separate charge with a specificdenial, declaring that he neither was, nor ever had been, other thanorthodox; and the result of the trial was, that no conviction could beobtained. The prisoner "was found so clear from all manner of infamousslanders and suspicions, that all the people before the said bishop, shouting in judgment as with one voice, openly witnessed his good name andfame, to the great reproof and shame of the said bishop, if he had not beenashamed to be ashamed. "[541] The case had broken down; the proceedings wereover, and by law the accused person was free. But the law, except when itwas on their own side, was of little importance to the church authorities. As they had failed to prove Philips guilty of heresy, they called upon himto confess his guilt by abjuring it; "as if, " he says, "there were nodifference between a nocent and an innocent, between a guilty and a notguilty. "[542]

He refused resolutely, and was remanded to prison, in open violation of thelaw. The bishop, in conjunction with Sir Thomas More, [543] sent for himfrom time to time, submitting him to private examinations, which again wereillegal; and urged the required confession, in order, as Philips says, "tosave the bishop's credit. "

The further they advanced, the more difficult it was to recede; and thebishop at length, irritated at his failure, concluded the process with anarbitrary sentence of excommunication. From this sentence, whether just orunjust, there was then no appeal, except to the pope. The wretched man, invirtue of it, was no longer under the protection of the law, and wascommitted to the Tower, where he languished for three years, protesting, but protesting fruitlessly, against the tyranny which had crushed him, andclamouring for justice in the deaf ears of pedants who knew not whatjustice meant. 

If this had occurred at the beginning of the century, the prisoner wouldhave been left to die, as countless multitudes had already died, unheard, uncared for, unthought of; the victim not of deliberate cruelty, but ofthat frightfullest portent, folly armed with power. Happily the years ofhis imprisonment had been years of swift revolution. The House of Commonshad become a tribunal where oppression would not any longer cry whollyunheard; Philips appealed to it for protection, and recovered hisliberty. [544]

The weight of guilt in this instance presses essentially on Stokesley; yeta portion of the blame must be borne also by the chancellor, who firstplaced Philips in Stokesley's hands; who took part in the illegal privateexaminations, and who could not have been ignorant of the prisoner'sultimate fate. If, however, it be thought unjust to charge a good man'smemory with an offence in which his part was only secondary, the followinginiquity was wholly and exclusively his own. I relate the story withoutcomment in the address of the injured person to More's successor. [545]

"_To the Right Hon. The Lord Chancellor of England. (Sir T. Audeley) andother of the King's Council. _

"In most humble wise showeth unto your goodness your poor bedeman JohnField, how that the next morrow upon twelfth day, [546] in the twenty-firstyear of our sovereign lord the King's Highness, Sir Thomas More, Knight, then being Lord Chancellor of England, did send certain of his servants, and caused your said bedeman, with certain others, to be brought to hisplace at Chelsea, and there kept him (after what manner and fashion it werenow long to tell), by the space of eighteen days;[547] and then set him atliberty, binding him to appear before him again the eighth day following inthe Star Chamber, which was Candlemas eve; at which day your said bedemanappeared, and was then sent to the Fleet, where he continued until PalmSunday two years after [in violation of both the statutes], kept so closethe first quarter that his keeper only might visit him; and always afterclosed up with those that were handled most straitly; often searched, sometimes even at midnight; besides snares and traps laid to take him in. Betwixt Michaelmas and Allhalloween tide next after his coming to prisonthere was taken from your bedeman a Greek vocabulary, price five shillings;Saint Cyprian's works, with a book of the same Sir Thomas More's making, named the _Supplication of Souls_. For what cause it was done he committethto the judgment of God, that seeth the souls of all persons. The said PalmSunday, which was also our Lady's day, towards night there came twoofficers of the Fleet, named George Porter and John Butler, and took yourbedeman into a ward alone, and there, after long searching, found his pursehanging at his girdle; which they took, and shook out the money to the sumof ten shillings, which was sent him to buy such necessaries as he lacked, and delivered him again his purse, well and truly keeping the money tothemselves, as they said for their fees; and forthwith carried him from theFleet (where he lost such poor bedding as he then had, and could neversince get it), and delivered him to the Marshalsea, under our gracioussovereign's commandment and Sir Thomas More's. When the Sunday before theRogation week following, your bedeman fell sick; and the Whitsun Monday wascarried out on four men's backs, and delivered to his friends to berecovered if it so pleased God. At which time the keeper took for yourbedeman's fees other ten shillings, when four shillings should havesufficed if he had been delivered in good health. 

"Within three weeks it pleased God to set your bedeman on his feet, so thathe might walk abroad. Whereof when Sir Thomas More heard (who went out ofhis chancellorship about the time your bedeman was carried out of prison), although he had neither word nor deed which he could ever truly lay to yourbedeman's charge, yet made he such means by the Bishops of Winchester andLondon, as your bedeman heard say, to the Hon. Lord Thomas Duke of Norfolk, that he gave new commandment to the keeper of the Marshalsea to attachagain your said bedeman; which thing was speedily done the Sunday threeweeks after his deliverance. And so he continued in prison again untilSaint Lawrence tide following; at which time money was given to the keeper, and some things he took which were not given, and then was your bedemanre-delivered through the king's goodness, under sureties bound in a certainsum, that he should appear the first day of the next term following, andthen day by day until his dismission. And so hath your bedeman been atliberty now twelve months waiting daily from term to term, and nothing laidto his charge as before. 

"Wherefore, the premises tenderly considered, and also your said bedeman'sgreat poverty, he most humbly beseecheth your goodness that he may now beclearly discharged; and if books, money, or other things seem to be takenor kept from him otherwise than justice would, eftsoons he beseecheth youthat ye will command it to be restored. 

"As for his long imprisonment, with other griefs thereto appertaining, helooketh not to have recompense of man; but committeth his whole cause toGod, to whom your bedeman shall daily pray, according as he is bound, thatye may so order and govern the realm that it may be to the honour of Godand your heavenly and everlasting reward. "

I do not find the result of this petition, but as it appeared that Henryhad interested himself in the story, it is likely to have been successful. We can form but an imperfect judgment on the merits of the case, for wehave only the sufferer's _ex parte_ complaint, and More might probably havebeen able to make some counter-statement. But the illegal imprisonmentcannot be explained away, and cannot be palliated; and when a judge permitshimself to commit an act of arbitrary tyranny, we argue from the known tothe unknown, and refuse reasonably to give him credit for equity where hewas so little careful of law. 

Yet a few years of misery in a prison was but an insignificant misfortunewhen compared with the fate under which so many other poor men were at thistime overwhelmed. Under Wolsey's chancellorship the stake had beencomparatively idle; he possessed a remarkable power of making recantationeasy; and there is, I believe, no instance in which an accused heretic wasbrought under his immediate cognisance, where he failed to arrange someterms by which submission was made possible. With Wolsey heresy was anerror--with More it was a crime. Soon after the seals changed hands theSmithfield fires recommenced; and, the chancellor acting in concert withthem, the bishops resolved to obliterate, in these edifying spectacles, therecollection of their general infirmities. The crime of the offendersvaried--sometimes it was a denial of the corporal presence, more often itwas a reflection too loud to be endured on the character and habits of theclergy; but whatever it was, the alternative lay only between abjurationhumiliating as ingenuity could make it, or a dreadful death. The hearts ofmany failed them in the trial, and of all the confessors those perhaps donot deserve the least compassion whose weakness betrayed them, who sank anddied broken-hearted. Of these silent sufferers history knows nothing. Afew, unable to endure the misery of having, as they supposed, denied theirSaviour, returned to the danger from which they had fled, and washed outtheir fall in martyrdom. Latimer has told us the story of his friendBilney--little Bilney, or Saint Bilney, [548] as he calls him, his companionat Cambridge, to whom he owed his own conversion. Bilney, after escapingthrough Wolsey's hands in 1527, was again cited in 1529 before the Bishopof London. Three times he refused to recant. He was offered a fourth andlast chance. The temptation was too strong, and he fell. For two years hewas hopelessly miserable; at length his braver nature prevailed. There wasno pardon for a relapsed heretic, and if he was again in the bishop's handshe knew well the fate which awaited him. 

He told his friends, in language touchingly significant, that "he would goup to Jerusalem;" and began to preach in the fields. The journey which hehad undertaken was not to be a long one. He was heard to say In a sermon, that of his personal knowledge certain things which had been offered inpilgrimage had been given to abandoned women. The priests, he affirmed, "take away the offerings, and hang them about their women's necks; andafter that they take them off the women, if they please them not, and hangthem again upon the images. "[549] This was Bilney's heresy, or formed theground of his arrest; he was orthodox on the mass, and also on the power ofthe keys; but the secrets of the sacred order were not to be betrayed withimpunity. He was seized, and hurried before the Bishop of Norwich; andbeing found heterodox on the papacy and the mediation of the saints by theBishop of Norwich he was sent to the stake. 

Another instance of recovered courage, and of martyrdom consequent upon it, is that of James Bainham, a barrister of the Middle Temple. This story isnoticeable from a very curious circumstance connected with it. 

Bainham had challenged suspicion by marrying the widow of Simon Fish, theauthor of the famous _Beggars' Petition_, who had died in 1528; and, soonafter his marriage, was challenged to give an account of his faith. He wascharged with denying transubstantiation, with questioning the value of theconfessional, and the power of the keys; and the absence of authoritativeProtestant dogma had left his mind free to expand to a yet larger belief. He had ventured to assert, that "if a Turk, a Jew, or a Saracen do trust inGod and keep his law, he is a good Christian man, "[550]--a conception ofChristianity, a conception of Protestantism, which we but feebly dare towhisper even at the present day. The proceedings against him commenced witha demand that he should give up his books, and also the names of otherbarristers with whom he was suspected to have held intercourse. He refused;and in consequence his wife was imprisoned, and he himself was racked inthe Tower by order of Sir Thomas More. Enfeebled by suffering, he was thenbrought before Stokesley, and terrified by the cold merciless eyes of hisjudge, he gave way, not about his friends, but about himself: he abjured, and was dismissed heartbroken. This was on the seventeenth of February. Hewas only able to endure his wretchedness for a month. At the end of it, heappeared at a secret meeting of the Christian Brothers, in "a warehouse inBow Lane, " where he asked forgiveness of God and all the world for what hehad done; and then went out to take again upon his shoulders the heavyburden of the cross. 

The following Sunday, at the church of St. Augustine, he rose in his seatwith the fatal English Testament in his hand, and "declared openly, beforeall the people, with weeping tears, that he had denied God, " praying themall to forgive him, and beware of his weakness; "for if I should not returnto the truth, " he said, "this Word of God would damn me, body and soul, atthe day of judgment. " And then he prayed "everybody rather to die than todo as he did, for he would not feel such a hell again as he did feel forall the world's good. "[551]

Of course but one event was to be looked for; he knew it, and himself wroteto the bishop, telling him what he had done. No mercy was possible: helooked for none, and he found none. 

Yet perhaps he found what the wise authorities thought to be some act ofmercy. They could not grant him pardon in this world upon any terms; butthey would not kill him till they had made an effort for his soul. He wastaken to the Bishop of London's coal cellar at Fulham, the favouriteepiscopal penance chamber, where he was ironed and put in the stocks; andthere was left for many days, in the chill March weather, to bethinkhimself. This failing to work conviction, he was carried to Sir ThomasMore's house at Chelsea, where for two nights he was chained to a post andwhipped; thence, again, he was taken back to Fulham for another week oftorture; and finally to the Tower, for a further fortnight, again withineffectual whippings. 

The demands of charity were thus satisfied. The pious bishop and thelearned chancellor had exhausted their means of conversion; they haddischarged their consciences; and the law was allowed to take its course. The prisoner was brought to trial on the 20th of April, as a relapsedheretic. Sentence followed; and on the last of the month the drama closedin the usual manner at Smithfield. Before the fire was lighted Bainham madea farewell address to the people, laying his death expressly to More, whomhe called his accuser and his judge. [552]

It is unfortunately impossible to learn the feelings with which thesedreadful scenes were witnessed by the people. There are stories which showthat, in some instances, familiarity had produced the usual effect; thatthe martyrdom of saints was at times of no more moment to an English crowdthan the execution of ordinary felons--that it was a mere spectacle to theidle, the hardened, and the curious. On the other hand, it is certain thatthe behaviour of the sufferers was the argument which at last converted thenation; and an effect which in the end was so powerful with the multitude, must have been visible long before in the braver and better natures. Theincreasing number of prosecutions in London shows, also, that the leavenwas spreading. There were five executions in Smithfield between 1529 and1533, besides those in the provinces. The prisons were crowded withoffenders who had abjured and were undergoing sentence; and the list ofthose who were "troubled" in various ways is so extensive, as to leave nodoubt of the sympathy which, in London at least, must have been felt bymany, very many, of the spectators of the martyrs' deaths. We are left, inthis important point, mainly to conjecture; and if we were better furnishedwith evidence, the language of ordinary narrative would fail to convey anyreal notion of perplexed and various emotions. We have glimpses, however, into the inner world of men, here and there of strange interest; and wemust regret that they are so few. 

A poor boy at Cambridge, John Randall, of Christ's College, a relation ofFoxe the martyrologist, destroyed himself in these years in religiousdesperation; he was found in his study hanging by his girdle, before anopen Bible, with his dead arm and finger stretched pitifully towards apassage on predestination. [553]

A story even more remarkable is connected with Bainham's execution. Amongthe lay officials present at the stake, was "one Pavier, " town clerk ofLondon. This Pavier was a Catholic fanatic, and as the flames were about tobe kindled he burst out into violent and abusive language. The fire blazedup, and the dying sufferer, as the red flickering tongues licked the fleshfrom off his bones, turned to him and said, "May God forgive thee, and shewmore mercy than thou, angry reviler, shewest to me. " The scene was soonover; the town clerk went home. A week after, one morning when his wife hadgone to mass, he sent all his servants out of his house on one pretext oranother, a single girl only being left, and he withdrew to a garret at thetop of the house, which he used as an oratory. A large crucifix was on thewall, and the girl having some question to ask, went to the room, and foundhim standing before it "bitterly weeping. " He told her to take his sword, which was rusty, and clean it. She went away, and left him; when shereturned, a little time after, he was hanging from a beam, dead. He was asingular person. Edward Hall, the historian, knew him, and had heard himsay, that "if the king put forth the New Testament in English, he would notlive to bear it. "[554] And yet he could not bear to see a heretic die. Whatwas it? Had the meaning of that awful figure hanging on the torturing crosssuddenly revealed itself? Had some inner voice asked him whether, in theprayer for his persecutors with which Christ had parted out of life, theremight be some affinity with words which had lately sounded in his own ears?God, into whose hands he threw himself, self-condemned in his wretchedness, only knows the agony of that hour. Let the secret rest where it lies, andlet us be thankful for ourselves that we live in a changed world. 

Thus, however, the struggle went forward; a forlorn hope of saints led theway up the breach, and paved with their bodies a broad road into the newera; and the nation the meanwhile was unconsciously waiting till the worksof the enemy were won, and they could walk safely in and take possession. While men like Bilney and Bainham were teaching with words and writings, there were stout English hearts labouring also on the practical side of thesame conflict, instilling the same lessons, and meeting for themselves thesame consequences. Speculative superstition was to be met with speculativedenial. Practical idolatry required a rougher method of disenchantment. 

Every monastery, every parish church, had in those days its special relics, its special images, its special something, to attract the interest of thepeople. The reverence for the remains of noble and pious men, the dresseswhich they had worn, or the bodies in which their spirits had lived, was initself a natural and pious emotion; but it had been petrified into a dogma;and like every other imaginative feeling which is submitted to that badprocess, it had become a falsehood, a mere superstition, a substitute forpiety, not a stimulus to it, and a perpetual occasion of fraud. The peoplebrought offerings to the shrines where it was supposed that the relics wereof greatest potency. The clergy, to secure the offerings, invented therelics, and invented the stories of the wonders which had been worked bythem. The greatest exposure of these things took place at the visitation ofthe religious houses. In the meantime, Bishop Shaxton's unsavoury inventoryof what passed under the name of relics in the diocese of Salisbury, willfurnish an adequate notion of these objects of popular veneration. There"be set forth and commended unto the ignorant people, " he said, "as Imyself of certain which be already come to my hands, have perfectknowledge, stinking boots, mucky combes, ragged rochettes, rotten girdles, pyl'd purses, great bullocks' horns, locks of hair, and filthy rags, gobbetts of wood, under the name of parcels of the holy cross, and suchpelfry beyond estimation. "[555] Besides matters of this kind, there wereimages of the Virgin or of the Saints; above all, roods or crucifixes, ofespecial potency, the virtues of which had begun to grow uncertain, however, to sceptical Protestants; and from doubt to denial, and fromdenial to passionate hatred, there were but a few brief steps. The mostfamous of the roods was that of Boxley in Kent, which used to smile andbow, or frown and shake its head, as its worshippers were generous orclosehanded. The fortunes and misfortunes of this image I shall by and byehave to relate. There was another, however, at Dovercourt, in Suffolk, ofscarcely inferior fame. This image was of such power that the door of thechurch in which it stood was open at all hours to all comers, and no humanhand could close it. Dovercourt therefore became a place of great andlucrative pilgrimage, much resorted to by the neighbours on all occasionsof difficulty. 

Now it happened that within the circuit of a few miles there lived fouryoung men, to whom the virtues of the rood had become greatly questionable. If it could work miracles, it must be capable, so they thought, ofprotecting its own substance; and they agreed to apply a practical testwhich would determine the extent of its abilities. Accordingly (about thetime of Bainham's first imprisonment), Robert King of Dedham, RobertDebenham of Eastbergholt, Nicholas Marsh of Dedham, and Robert Gardiner ofDedham, "their consciences being burdened to see the honour of Almighty Godso blasphemed by such an idol, " started off "on a wondrous goodly night" inFebruary, with hard frost and a clear full moon, ten miles across thewolds, to the church. 

The door was open as the legend declared; but nothing daunted, they enteredbravely, and lifting down the "idol" from its shrine, with its coat andshoes, and the store of tapers which were kept for the services, theycarried it on their shoulders for a quarter of a mile from the place whereit had stood, "without any resistance of the said idol. " There setting iton the ground, they struck a light, fastened the tapers to the body, andwith the help of them, sacrilegiously burnt the image down to a heap ofashes; the old dry wood "blazing so brimly, " that it lighted them a fullmile on their way home. [556]

For this night's performance, which, if the devil is the father of lies, was a stroke of honest work against him and his family, the world rewardedthese men after the usual fashion. One of them, Robert Gardiner, escapedthe search which was made, and disappeared till better times; the remainingthree were swinging in chains six months later on the scene of theirexploit. Their fate was perhaps inevitable. Men who dare to be the first ingreat movements are ever self-immolated victims. But I suppose that it wasbetter for them to be bleaching on their gibbets, than crawling at the feetof a wooden rood, and believing it to be God. 

 * * * * *

These were the first Paladins of the Reformation; the knights who slew thedragons and the enchanters, and made the earth habitable for common fleshand blood. They were rarely, as we have said, men of great ability, stillmore rarely men of "wealth and station;" but men rather of clear senses andhonest hearts. Tyndal was a remarkable person, and so Clark and Frithpromised to become; but the two last were cut off before they had foundscope to show themselves; and Tyndal remaining abroad, lay outside thebattle which was being fought in England, doing noble work, indeed, andending as the rest ended, with earning a martyr's crown; but taking no partin the actual struggle except with his pen. As yet but two men of thehighest order of power were on the side of Protestantism--Latimer andCromwell. Of them we have already said something; but the time was now fastcoming when they were to step forward, pressed by circumstances which couldno longer dispense with them, into scenes of far wider activity; and thepresent seems a fitting occasion to give some closer account of theirhistory. When the breach with the pope was made irreparable, and the papalparty at home had assumed an attitude of suspended insurrection, thefortunes of the Protestants entered into a new phase. The persecutionceased; and those who but lately were carrying fagots in the streets, orhiding for their lives, passed at once by a sudden alternation into thesunshine of political favour. The summer was but a brief one, followed soonby returning winter; but Cromwell and Latimer had together caught themoment as it went by; and before it was over, a work had been done inEngland which, when it was accomplished once, was accomplished for ever. The conservative party recovered their power, and abused it as before; butthe chains of the nation were broken, and no craft of kings or priests orstatesmen could weld the magic links again. 

It is a pity that of two persons to whom England owes so deep a debt, wecan piece together such scanty biographies. I must attempt, however, togive some outline of the little which is known. 

The father of Latimer was a solid English yeoman, of Thurcaston, inLeicestershire. "He had no lands of his own, " but he rented a farm "of fourpounds by the year, " on which "he tilled so much as kept half a dozen men;""he had walk for a hundred sheep, and meadow ground for thirty cows. "[557]The world prospered with him; he was able to save money for his son'seducation and his daughters' portions; but he was freehanded andhospitable; he kept open house for his poor neighbours; and he was a goodcitizen, too, for "he did find the king a harness with himself and hishorse, " ready to do battle for his country, if occasion called. His familywere brought up "in godliness and the fear of the Lord;" and in all pointsthe old Latimer seems to have been a worthy, sound, upright man, of thetrue English mettle. 

There were several children. [558] The Reformer was born about 1490, somefive years after the usurper Richard had been killed at Bosworth. Bosworthbeing no great distance from Thurcaston, Latimer the father is likely tohave been present in the battle, on one side or the other--the right sidein those times it was no easy matter to choose--but he became a goodservant of the new government--and the little Hugh, when a boy of sevenyears old, helped to buckle[559] on his armour for him, "when he went toBlackheath field. "[560] Being a soldier himself, the old gentleman wascareful to give his sons, whatever else he gave them, a sound soldier'straining. "He was diligent, " says Latimer, "to teach me to shoot with thebow: he taught me how to draw, how to lay my body in the bow--not to drawwith strength of arm, as other nations do, but with the strength of thebody. I had my bows bought me according to my age and strength; as Iincreased in these, my bows were made bigger and bigger. "[561] Under thiseducation, and in the wholesome atmosphere of the farmhouse, the boyprospered well; and by and bye, showing signs of promise, he was sent toschool. When he was fourteen, the promises so far having been fulfilled, his father transferred him to Cambridge. [562]

He was soon known at the university as a sober, hard-working student. Atnineteen, he was elected fellow of Clare Hall; at twenty, he took hisdegree, and became a student in divinity, when he accepted quietly, like asensible man, the doctrines which he had been brought up to believe. At thetime when Henry VIII. Was writing against Luther, Latimer was fleshing hismaiden sword in an attack upon Melancthon;[563] and he remained, he said, till he was thirty, "in darkness and the shadow of death. " About this timehe became acquainted with Bilney, whom he calls "the instrument whereby Godcalled him to knowledge. " In Bilney, doubtless, he found a soundinstructor; but a careful reader of his sermons will see traces of ateaching for which he was indebted to no human master. His deepestknowledge was that which stole upon him unconsciously through theexperience of life and the world. His words are like the clear impressionof a seal; the account and the result of observations, taken first hand, onthe condition of the English men and women of his time, in all ranks andclasses, from the palace to the prison. He shows large acquaintance withbooks; with the Bible, most of all; with patristic divinity and schooldivinity; and history, sacred and profane: but if this had been all, hewould not have been the Latimer of the Reformation, and the Church ofEngland would not, perhaps, have been here to-day. Like the physician, towhom a year of practical experience in a hospital teaches more than a lifeof closest study, Latimer learnt the mental disorders of his age in the ageitself; and the secret of that art no other man, however good, howeverwise, could have taught him. He was not an echo, but a voice; and he drewhis thoughts fresh from the fountain--from the facts of the era in whichGod had placed him. 

He became early famous as a preacher at Cambridge, from the first, "aseditious fellow, " as a noble lord called him in later life, highlytroublesome to unjust persons in authority. "None, except the stiff-neckedand uncircumcised, ever went away from his preaching, it was said, withoutbeing affected with high detestation of sin, and moved to all godliness andvirtue. "[564] And, in his audacious simplicity, he addressed himself alwaysto his individual hearers, giving his words a personal application, andoften addressing men by name. This habit brought him first into difficultyin 1525. He was preaching before the university, when the Bishop of Elycame into the church, being curious to hear him. He paused till the bishopwas seated; and when he recommenced, he changed his subject, and drew anideal picture of a prelate as a prelate ought to be; the features of which, though he did not say so, were strikingly unlike those of his auditor. Thebishop complained to Wolsey, who sent for Latimer, and inquired what he hadsaid. Latimer repeated the substance of his sermon; and other conversationthen followed, which showed Wolsey very clearly the nature of the personwith whom he was speaking. No eye saw more rapidly than the cardinal's thedifference between a true man and an impostor; and he replied to the Bishopof Ely's accusations by granting the offender a licence to preach in anychurch in England. "If the Bishop of Ely cannot abide such doctrine as youhave here repeated, " he said, "you shall preach it to his beard, let himsay what he will. "[565]

Thus fortified, Latimer pursued his way, careless of the universityauthorities, and probably defiant of them. He was still orthodox in pointsof theoretic belief. His mind was practical rather than speculative, and hewas slow in arriving at conclusions which had no immediate bearing uponaction. No charge could be fastened upon him, definitely criminal; and hewas too strong to be crushed by that compendious tyranny which treated asan act of heresy the exposure of imposture or delinquency. 

On Wolsey's fall, however, he would have certainly been silenced: if he hadfallen into the hands of Sir Thomas More, he would have perhaps beenprematurely sacrificed. But, fortunately, he found a fresh protector in theking. Henry heard of him, sent for him, and, with instinctive recognitionof his character, appointed him one of the royal chaplains. He now leftCambridge and removed to Windsor, but only to treat his royal patron asfreely as he had treated the Cambridge doctors--not with any absence ofrespect, for he was most respectful, but with that highest respect whichdares to speak unwelcome truth where the truth seems to be forgotten. Hewas made chaplain in 1530--during the new persecution, for which Henry wasresponsible by a more than tacit acquiescence. Latimer, with no authoritybut his own conscience, and the strong certainty that he was on God's side, threw himself between the spoilers and their prey, and wrote to the king, protesting against the injustice which was crushing the truest men in hisdominions. The letter is too long to insert; the close of it may show how apoor priest could dare to address the imperious Henry VIII. :

"I pray to God that your Grace may take heed of the worldly wisdom which isfoolishness before God; that you may do that [which] God commandeth, andnot that [which] seemeth good in your own sight, without the word of God;that your Grace may be found acceptable in his sight, and one of themembers of his church; and according to the office that he hath called yourGrace unto, you may be found a faithful minister of his gifts, and not adefender of his faith: for he will not have it defended by man or man'spower, but by his word only, by the which he hath evermore defended it, andthat by a way far above man's power or reason. 

"Wherefore, gracious king, remember yourself; have pity upon your soul; andthink that the day is even at hand when you shall give account for youroffice, and of the blood that hath been shed by your sword. In which day, that your Grace may stand steadfastly, and not be ashamed, but be clear andready in your reckoning, and have (as they say), your _quietus est_ sealedwith the blood of our Saviour Christ, which only serveth at that day, is mydaily prayer to Him that suffered death for our sins, which also prayeth tohis Father for grace for us continually; to whom be all honour and praisefor ever. Amen. The Spirit of God preserve your Grace. "[566]

These words, which conclude an address of almost unexampled grandeur, areunfortunately of no interest to us, except as illustrating the character ofthe priest who wrote them, and the king to whom they were written. The handof the persecutor was not stayed. The rack and the lash and the stakecontinued to claim their victims. So far it was labour in vain. But theletter remains, to speak for ever for the courage of Latimer; and to speaksomething, too, for a prince that could respect the nobleness of the pooryeoman's son, who dared in such a cause to write to him as a man to a man. To have written at all in such a strain was as brave a step as was everdeliberately ventured. Like most brave acts, it did not go unrewarded; forHenry remained ever after, however widely divided from him in opinion, hisunshaken friend. 

In 1531, the king gave him the living of West Kingston, in Wiltshire, wherefor a time he now retired. Yet it was but a partial rest. He had a speciallicence as a preacher from Cambridge, which continued to him (with theking's express sanction)[567] the powers which he had received from Wolsey. He might preach in any diocese to which he was invited; and the repose of acountry parish could not be long allowed in such stormy times to Latimer. He had bad health, being troubled with headache, pleurisy, colic, stone;his bodily constitution meeting feebly the demands which he was forced tomake upon it. [568] But he struggled on, travelling up and down to London, to Kent, to Bristol, wherever opportunity called him; marked fordestruction by the bishops, if he was betrayed into an imprudent word, andhimself living in constant expectation of death. [569]

At length the Bishop of London believed that Latimer was in his power. Hehad preached at St. Abb's, in the city, "at the request of a company ofmerchants, "[570] in the beginning of the winter of 1531; and soon after hisreturn to his living, he was informed that he was to be cited beforeStokesley. His friends in the neighbourhood wrote to him, evidently ingreat alarm, and more anxious that he might clear himself, than expectingthat he would be able to do so;[571] he himself, indeed, had almost made uphis mind that the end was coming. [572]

The citation was delayed for a few weeks. It was issued at last, on the10th of January, 1531-2, [573] and was served by Sir Walter Hungerford, ofFarley. [574] The offences with which he was charged were certain "excessesand irregularities" not specially defined; and the practice of the bishopsin such cases was not to confine the prosecution to the acts committed; butto draw up a series of articles, on which it was presumed that theorthodoxy of the accused person was open to suspicion, and to question himseparately upon each. Latimer was first examined by Stokesley; subsequentlyat various times by the bishops collectively; and finally, when certainformulas had been submitted to him, which he refused to sign, his case wastransferred to convocation. The convocation, as we know, were then indifficulty with their premunire; they had consoled themselves in theirsorrow with burning the body of Tracy; and they would gladly have takenfurther comfort by burning Latimer. [575] He was submitted to the closestcross-questionings, in the hope that he would commit himself. They feltthat he was the most dangerous person to them in the kingdom, and theylaboured with unusual patience to ensure his conviction. [576] With a commonperson they would have rapidly succeeded. But Latimer was in no haste to bea martyr; he would be martyred patiently when the time was come formartyrdom; but he felt that no one ought "to consent to die, " as long as hecould honestly live;[577] and he baffled the episcopal inquisitors withtheir own weapons. He has left a most curious account of one of hisinterviews with them. 

"I was once in examination, " he says, [578] "before five or six bishops, where I had much turmoiling. Every week, thrice, I came to examination, andmany snares and traps were laid to get something. Now, God knoweth, I wasignorant of the law; but that God gave me answer and wisdom what I shouldspeak. It was God indeed, for else I had never escaped them. At the last, Iwas brought forth to be examined into a chamber hanged with arras, where Iwas before wont to be examined, but now, at this time, the chamber wassomewhat altered: for whereas before there was wont ever to be a fire inthe chimney, [579] now the fire was taken away, and an arras hanging hangedover the chimney; and the table stood near the chimney's end, so that Istood between the table and the chimney's end. There was among thesebishops that examined me one with whom I had been very familiar, and tookhim for my great friend, an aged man, and he sate next the table end. Then, among all other questions, he put forth one, a very subtle and crafty one, and such one indeed as I could not think so great danger in. And when Iwould make answer, 'I pray you, Master Latimer, ' said he, 'speak out; I amvery thick of hearing, and here be many that sit far off. ' I marvelled atthis, that I was bidden to speak out, and began to misdeem, and gave an earto the chimney; and, sir, there I heard a pen walking in the chimney, behind the cloth. They had appointed one there to write all mine answers;for they made sure work that I should not start from them: there was nostarting from them: God was my good Lord, and gave me answer; I could neverelse have escaped it. The question was this: 'Master Latimer, do you notthink, on your conscience, that you have been suspected of heresy?'--asubtle question--a very subtle question. There was no holding of peacewould serve. To hold my peace had been to grant myself faulty. To answerwas every way full of danger. But God, which hath always given rile answer, helped me, or else I could never have escaped it. _Ostendite mihi numisma__censûs_. Shew me, said he, a penny of the tribute money. They laid snaresto destroy him, but he overturneth them in their own traps. "[580]

The bishops, however, were not men who were nice in their adherence to thelaws; and it would have gone ill with Latimer, notwithstanding hisdialectic ability. He was excommunicated and imprisoned, and would soonhave fallen into worse extremities; but at the last moment he appealed tothe king, and the king, who knew his value, would not allow him to besacrificed. He had refused to subscribe the articles proposed to him. [581]Henry intimated to the convocation that it was not his pleasure that thematter should be pressed further; they were to content themselves with ageneral submission, which should be made to the archbishop, withoutexacting more special acknowledgments. This was the reward to Latimer forhis noble letter. He was absolved, and returned to his parish, thoughsnatched as a brand out of the fire. 

Soon after, the tide turned, and the Reformation entered into a new phase. 

Such is a brief sketch of the life of Hugh Latimer, to the time when itblended with the broad stream of English history. With respect to the othervery great man whom the exigencies of the state called to powersimultaneously with him, our information is far less satisfactory. Thoughour knowledge of Latimer's early story comes to us in fragments only, yetthere are certain marks in it by which the outline can be determined withcertainty. A cloud rests over the youth and early manhood of ThomasCromwell, through which, only at intervals, we catch glimpses of authenticfacts; and these few fragments of reality seem rather to belong to aromance than to the actual life of a man. 

Cromwell, the malleus monachorum, was of good English family, belonging tothe Cromwells of Lincolnshire. One of these, probably a younger brother, moved up to London and conducted an ironfoundry, or other business of thatdescription, at Putney. He married a lady of respectable connections, ofwhom we know only that she was sister of the wife of a gentleman inDerbyshire, but whose name does not appear. [582] The old Cromwell dyingearly, the widow was re-married to a cloth-merchant; and the child of thefirst husband, who made himself so great a name in English story, met withthe reputed fortune of a stepson, and became a vagabond in the wide world. The chart of his course wholly fails us. One day in later life he shook bythe hand an old bell-ringer at Sion House before a crowd of courtiers, andtold them that "this man's father had given him many a dinner in hisnecessities. " And a strange random account is given by Foxe of his havingjoined a party in an expedition to Rome to obtain a renewal from the popeof certain immunities and indulgences for the town of Boston; a story whichderives some kind of credibility from its connection with Lincolnshire, butis full of incoherence and unlikelihood. Following still the popularlegend, we find him in the autumn of 1515 a ragged stripling at the door ofFrescobaldi's banking-house in Florence, begging for help. Frescobaldi hadan establishment in London, [583] with a large connection there; and seeingan English face, and seemingly an honest one, he asked the boy who and whathe was. "I am, sir, " quoth he, "of England, and my name is Thomas Cromwell;my father is a poor man, and by occupation a cloth-shearer; I am strayedfrom my country, and am now come into Italy with the camp of Frenchmen thatwere overthrown at Garigliano, where I was page to a footman, carryingafter him his pike and burganet. " Something in the boy's manner was said tohave attracted the banker's interest; he took him into his house, and afterkeeping him there as long as he desired to stay, he gave him a horse andsixteen ducats to help him home to England. [584] Foxe is the first Englishauthority for the story; and Foxe took it from Bandello, the novelist; butit is confirmed by, or harmonises with, a sketch of Cromwell's early lifein a letter of Chappuys, the imperial ambassador, to Chancellor Granvelle. "Master Cromwell, " wrote Chappuys in 1535, "is the son of a poorblacksmith, who lived in a small village four miles from London, and isburied in a common grave in the parish churchyard. In his youth, for someoffence, he was imprisoned, and had to leave the country. He went toFlanders, and thence to Rome and other places in Italy. "[585]

Returning to England, he married the daughter of a woollen-dealer, andbecame a partner in the business, where he amassed or inherited aconsiderable fortune. [586] Circumstances afterwards brought him, whilestill young, in contact with Wolsey, who discovered his merit, took himinto service, and in 1525, employed him in the most important work ofvisiting and breaking up the small monasteries, which the pope had grantedfor the foundation of the new colleges. He was engaged with this businessfor two years, and was so efficient that he obtained an unpleasantnotoriety, and complaints of his conduct found their way to the king. Nothing came of these complaints, however, and Cromwell remained with thecardinal till his fall. [587]

It was then that the truly noble nature which was in him showed itself. Heaccompanied his master through his dreary confinement at Esher, [588] doingall that man could do to soften the outward wretchedness of it; and at themeeting of parliament, in which he obtained a seat, he rendered him a stillmore gallant service. The Lords had passed a bill of impeachment againstWolsey, violent, vindictive, and malevolent. It was to be submitted to theCommons, and Cromwell prepared to attempt an opposition. Cavendish has lefta most characteristic description of his leaving Esher at this trying time. A cheerless November evening was closing in with rain and storm. Wolsey wasbroken down with sorrow and sickness; and had been unusually tried byparting with his retinue, whom he had sent home, as unwilling to keep themattached any longer to his fallen fortunes. When they were all gone, "Mylord, " says Cavendish, "returned to his chamber, lamenting the departure ofhis servants, making his moan unto Master Cromwell, who comforted him thebest he could, and desired my lord to give him leave to go to London, wherehe would either make or mar before he came again, which was always hiscommon saying. Then after long communication with my lord in secret, hedeparted, and took his horse and rode to London; at whose departing I wasby, whom he bade farewell, and said, ye shall hear shortly of me, and if Ispeed well I will not fail to be here again within these two days. "[589] Hedid speed well. "After two days he came again with a much pleasantercountenance, and meeting with me before he came to my lord, said unto me, that he had adventured to put in his foot where he trusted shortly to bebetter regarded or all were done. " He had stopped the progress of theimpeachment in the Lower House, and was answering the articles one by one. In the evening he rode down to Esher for instructions. In the morning hewas again at his place in Parliament; and he conducted the defence soskilfully, that finally he threw out the bill, saved Wolsey, and himself"grew into such estimation in every man's opinion, for his honest behaviourin his master's cause, that he was esteemed the most faithfullest servant, [and] was of all men greatly commended. "[590]

Henry admired his chivalry, and perhaps his talent. The loss of Wolsey hadleft him without any very able man, unless we may consider Sir Thomas Moresuch, upon his council, and he could not calculate on More for support inhis anti-Roman policy; he was glad, therefore, to avail himself of theservice of a man who had given so rare a proof of fidelity, and who hadbeen trained by the ablest statesman of the age. [591]

To Wolsey Cromwell could render no more service except as a friend, and hiswarm friend he remained to the last. He became the king's secretary, representing the government in the House of Commons, and was at once on thehigh road to power. I cannot call him ambitious; an ambitious man wouldscarcely have pursued so refined a policy, or have calculated on theadmiration which he gained by adhering to a fallen minister. He did notseek greatness--greatness rather sought him as the man in England most fitto bear it. His business was to prepare the measures which were to besubmitted to Parliament by the government. His influence, therefore, grewnecessarily with the rapidity with which events were ripening; and when theconclusive step was taken, and the king was married, the virtual conduct ofthe Reformation passed into his hands. His Protestant tendencies wereunknown as yet, perhaps, even to his own conscience; nor to the last couldhe arrive at any certain speculative convictions. He was drawn towards theProtestants as he rose into power by the integrity of his nature, whichcompelled him to trust only those who were honest like himself. 

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VI

WILL OF THOMAS CROMWELL--1529. 

In the name of God, Amen. The 12th day of July, in the year of our Lord GodMCCCCCXXIX. , and in the 21st year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord, KingHenry VIII. , I, Thomas Cromwell, of London, Gentleman, being whole in bodyand in good and perfect memory, lauded be the Holy Trinity, make, ordain, and declare this my present testament, containing my last will, in manneras following:--First I bequeath my soul to the great God of heaven, myMaker, Creator, and Redeemer, beseeching the most glorious Virgin andblessed Lady Saint Mary the Virgin and Mother, with all the holy company ofheaven, to be mediators and intercessors for me to the Holy Trinity, sothat I may be able, when it shall please Almighty God to call me out ofthis miserable world and transitory life, to inherit the kingdom of heavenamongst the number of good Christian people; and whensoever I shall departthis present life I bequeath my body to be buried where it shall please Godto ordain me to die, and to be ordered after the discretion of mineexecutors undernamed. And for my goods which our Lord hath lent me in thisworld, I will shall be ordered and disposed in manner and form as hereaftershall ensue. First I give and bequeath unto my son Gregory Cromwell sixhundred threescore six pounds, thirteen shillings, and fourpence, of lawfulmoney of England, with the which six hundred threescore six pounds, thirteen shillings, and fourpence, I will mine executors undernamedimmediately or as soon as they conveniently may after my decease, shallpurchase lands, tenements, and hereditaments to the clear yearly value of£33 6s. 8d. By the year above all charges and reprises to the use of mysaid son Gregory, for term of his life; and after the decease of the saidGregory to the heirs male of his body lawfully to be begotten, and for lackof heirs male of the body of the said Gregory, lawfully begotten, to theheirs general of his body lawfully begotten. And for lack of such heirs tothe right heirs of me the said Thomas Cromwell, in fee. I will also thatimmediately and as soon as the said lands, tenements, and hereditamentsshall be so purchased after my death as is aforesaid by mine executors, that the yearly profits thereof shall be wholly spent and employed in andabout the education and finding honestly of my said son Gregory, in virtue, good learning, and manners, until such time as he shall come to the fullage of 24 years. During which time I heartily desire and require my saidexecutors to be good unto my said you Gregory, and to see he do lose notime, but to see him virtuously ordered and brought up according to mytrust. 

Item. I give and bequeath to my said son Gregory, (when he shall come tohis full age of 24 years), two hundred pounds of lawful English money toorder them as our Lord shall give him grace and discretion, which £200 Iwill shall be put in surety to the intent the same may come to his hands athis said age of 24 years. Item. I give and bequeath to my said son Gregoryof such household stuff as God hath lent me, three of my best featherbedswith their bolsters; and, the best pair of blankets of fustian, my bestcoverlet of tapestry, and my quilt of yellow Turkey satin; one pair of mybest sheets, four pillows of down, with four pair of the best pillowberes, four of my best table-cloths, four of my best towels, two dozen of myfinest napkins, and two dozen of my other napkins, two garnish of my bestvessel, three of my best brass pots, three of my best brass pans, two of mybest kettles, two of my best spits, my best joined bed of Flanders work, with the best ---- and tester, and other the appurtenances theretobelonging; my best press, carven of Flanders work, and my best cupboard, carven of Flanders work, with also six joined stools of Flanders work, andsix of my best cushions. Item. I give and bequeath to my said son Gregory abasin with an ewer parcel-gilt, my best salt gilt, my best cup gilt, threeof my best goblets; three other of my goblets parcel-gilt, twelve of mybest silver spoons, three of my best drinking ale-pots gilt; all the whichparcels of plate and household stuff I will shall be safely kept to the useof my said you Gregory till he shall come to his said full age of 24. Andall the which plate, household stuff, napery, and all other the premises, Iwill mine executors do put in safe keeping until my said son come to thesaid years or age of 24. And if he die before the age of 24, then I willall the said plate, vessel, and household stuff shall be sold by mineexecutors. And the money thereof coming to be given and equally dividedamongst my poor kinsfolk, that is to say, amongst the children as well ofmine own sisters Elizabeth and Katherine, as of my late wife's sister Joan, wife to John Williamson;[592] and if it happen that all the children of mysaid sisters and sister-in-law do die before the partition be made, andnone of them be living, then I will that all the said plate, vessel, andhousehold stuff shall be sold and given to other my poor kinsfolk thenbeing in life, and other poor and indigent people, in deeds of charity formy soul, my father and mother their souls, and all Christian souls. 

[[593] Item. I give and bequeath to my daughter Anne an hundred marks oflawful money of England when she shall come to her lawful age or happen tobe married, and £40 toward her finding until the time that she shall be oflawful age or be married, which £40 I will shall be delivered to my friendJohn Cook, one of the six Clerks of the King's Chancery, to the intent hemay order the same and cause the same to be employed in the best wise hecan devise about the virtuous education and bringing up of my said daughtertill she shall come to her lawful age or marriage. Then I will that thesaid 100 marks, and so much of the said £40 as then shall be unspent andunemployed at the day of the death of my said daughter Anne, I will itshall remain to Gregory my son, if he then be in life; and if he be dead, the same hundred marks, and also so much of the said £40 as then shall beunspent, to be departed amongst my sisters' children, in manner and formaforesaid. And if it happen my said sisters' children then to be all dead, then I will the said 100 marks and so much of the said £40 as shall beunspent, shall be divided amongst my kinsfolk, such as then, shall be inlife. ] Item. I give and bequeath unto my sister Elizabeth Wellyfed £40, three goblets without a cover, a mazer, and a nut. Item. I give andbequeath to my nephew Richard Willyams [[594] servant with my Lord MarquessDorset, £66 13s. 4d. ], £40 sterling, my [[594] fourth] best gown, doublet, and jacket. Item. I give and bequeath to my nephew, Christopher Wellyfed£40, [[594] £20] my fifth gown, doublet, and jacket. Item. I give andbequeath to my nephew William Wellyfed the younger £20, [[594] £40]. Item. I give and bequeath to my niece Alice Wellyfed, to her marriage, £20. Andif it happen her to die before marriage, then I will that the said £20shall remain to her brother Christopher. And if it happen him to die, thesame £20 to remain to Wm. Wellyfed the younger, his brother. And if ithappen them all to die before their lawful age or marriage, then I willthat all their parts shall remain to Gregory my son. And if it happen himto die before them, then I will all the said parts shall remain [[594] toAnne and Grace, my daughters] to Richard Willyams and Walter Willyams, mynephews. And if it happen them to die, then I will that all the said partsshall be distributed in deeds of charity for my soul, my father's andmother's souls, and all Christian souls. Item. I give and bequeath to mymother-in-law Mercy Prior, £40 of lawful English money, and her chamber, with certain household stuff; that is to say, a featherbed, a bolster, twopillows with their beres, six pair of sheets, a pair of blankets, a garnishof vessel, two pots, two pans, two spits, with such other of my householdstuff as shall be thought meet for her by the discretion of mine executors, and such as she will reasonably desire, not being bequeathed to other usesin this my present testament and last will. Item. I give and bequeath to mysaid mother-in-law a little salt of silver, a mazer, six silver spoons, anda drinking-pot of silver. And also I charge mine executors to be good untoher during her life. Item. I give and bequeath to my brother-in-law WilliamWellyfed, £20, my third gown, jacket, and doublet. Item. I give andbequeath to John Willyams my brother-in-law, 100 marks, a gown, a doublet, a jacket, a featherbed, a bolster, six pair of sheets, two table-cloths, two dozen napkins, two towels, two brass pots, two brass pans, a silverpot, a nut parcel-gilt; and to Joan, his wife, £40. Item. I give andbequeath to Joan Willyams, their daughter, to her marriage, £20, and toevery other of their children, £12 13s. 4d. Item. I bequeath to WalterWillyams, my nephew, £20. Item. I give and bequeath to Ralph Sadler, myservant, 200 marks of lawful English money, my second gown, jacket, anddoublet, and all my books. Item. I give and bequeath to Hugh Whalley, myservant, £6 13s. 4d. Item. I give and bequeath to Stephen Vaughan, sometimemy servant, 100 marks, a gown, jacket, and doublet. Item. I give andbequeath to Page, my servant, otherwise called John De Fount, £6 13s. 4d. [[594] Item. I give and bequeath to Elizabeth Gregory, sometime my servant, £20, six pair of sheets, a featherbed, a pair of blankets, a coverlet, twotable-cloths, one dozen napkins, two brass pots, two pans, two spits. ] Andalso to Thomas Averey, my servant, £6 13s. 4d. [[594] Item. I give andbequeath to John Cooke, one of the six Master Clerks of the Chancery, £10, my second gown, doublet, and jacket. Item. I give and bequeath to RogerMore, servant of the King's bakehouse, £6 13s. 4d. , three yards of satin;and to Maudelyn, his wife, £3 6s. 8d. ] Item. I give and bequeath to JohnHorwood, £6 13s. 4d. [[594] Item. I give and bequeath to my little daughterGrace 100 marks of lawful English money when she shall come to her lawfulage or marriage; and also £40 towards her exhibition and finding until suchtime she shall be of lawful age or be married, which £40 I will shall bedelivered to my brother-in-law, John Willyams, to the intent he may orderand cause the same to be employed in and about the virtuous education andbringing up of my said daughter, till she shall come to her lawful age ofmarriage. And if it happen my said daughter to die before she come to herlawful age or marriage, then I will that the said 100 marks, and so much ofthe said £40 as shall then be unspent and unemployed about the finding ofmy said daughter at the day of the death of my said daughter shall remainand be delivered to Gregory my son, if he then shall happen to be in life;and if he be dead, then the said 100 marks, and the said residue of thesaid £40, to be evenly departed among my grown kinsfolk--that is to say, mysisters' children aforesaid. ] Item. That the rest of mine apparel beforenot given or bequeathed in this my testament and last will shall be givenand equally departed amongst my servants after the order and discretion ofmine executors. Item. I will also that mine executors shall take the yearlyprofits above the charges of my farm of Carberry, and all other thingscontained in my said lease of Carberry, in the county of Middlesex, andwith the profits thereof shall yearly pay unto my brother-in-law William(Wellyfed) and Elizabeth his wife, mine only sister, twenty pounds; giveand distribute for my soul quarterly 40 shillings during their lives andthe longer of them; and after the decease of the said William andElizabeth, the profits of the said farm over and above the yearly rent tobe kept to the use of my son Gregory till he be come to the age of 24years. And at the years of 24 the said lease and farm of Carberry, I dogive and bequeath to my son Gregory, to have the same to him, his executorsand assigns. And if it fortune the said Gregory my son to die before, mysaid brother-in-law and sister being dead, he shall come to the age of 24years, then I will my said cousin Richard Willyams shall have the farm withthe appurtenances to him and to his executors and assigns; and if it happenmy said brother-in-law, my sister, my son Gregory, and my said cousinRichard, to die before the accomplishment of this my will touching the saidfarm, then I will mine executors shall sell the said farm, and the moneythereof coming to employ in deeds of charity, to pray for my soul and allChristian souls. Item. I will mine executors shall conduct and hire apriest, being an honest person of continent and good living, to sing for mysoul by the space of seven years next after my death, and to give him forthe same £6 13s. 4d. For his stipend. Item. I give and bequeath towards themaking of highways in this realm, where it shall be thought most necessary, £20 to be disposed by the discretion of mine executors. Item. I give andbequeath to every the five orders of Friars within the City of London, topray for my soul, 20 shillings. Item. I give and bequeath to 60 poormaidens in marriage, £40, that is to say, 13s. 4d. To every of the saidpoor maidens, to be given and distributed by the discretion of mineexecutors. Item. I will that there shall be dealt and given after mydecease amongst poor people householders, to pray for my soul, £20, such asby mine executors shall be thought most needful. Item. I give and bequeathto the poor parishioners of the parish where God shall ordain me to have mydwellingplace at the time of my death, £10, to be truly distributed amongstthem by the discretion of mine executors. Item. I give and bequeath to myparish church for my tithes forgotten, 20 shillings. Item. To the poorprisoners of Newgate, Ludgate, King's Bench, and Marshalsea, to be equallydistributed amongst them, £10. Willing, charging, and desiring mineexecutors underwritten, that they shall see this my will performed in everypoint according to my true meaning and intent as they will answer to God, and discharge their consciences. The residue of all my goods, chattels, anddebts not bequeathed, my funeral and burial performed, which I will shallbe done without any earthly pomp, and my debts paid, I will shall be sold, and the money thereof coming, to be distributed in works of charity andpity, after the good discretion of mine executors undernamed. Whom I makeand ordain, Stephen Vaughan, Ralph Sadler, my servants, and John Willyamsmy brother-in-law. Praying and desiring the same mine executors to be goodunto my son Gregory, and to all other my poor friends and kinsfolk andservants aforenamed in this my testament. And of this my present testamentand last will I make Roger More mine overseer; unto whom and also to everyof the other mine executors I give and bequeath £6 13s. 4d. For their painsto be taken in the execution of this my last will and testament, over andabove such legacies as herebefore I have bequeathed them in this sametestament and will. In witness whereof, to this my present testament andlast will I have set to my hand in every leaf contained in this book, theday and year before limited. 

THOMAS CROMWELL. 

Item. I give and bequeath to William Brabazon, my servant, £20 8s. , a gun, a doublet, a jacket, and my second gelding. 

It. To John Avery, Yeoman of the Bedchamber with the King's Highness, £613s. 4d. , and a doublet of satin. 

It. To Thurston, my cook. £6 13s. 4d. 

It. To William Body, my servant, £6 13s. 4d. 

It. To Peter Mewtas, my servant, £6 13s. 4d. 

It. To Ric. Sleysh, my servant, £6 13s. 4d. 

It. To George Wilkinson, my servant, £6 13s. 4d. 

It. To my friend, Thomas Alvard. £10, and my best gelding. 

It. To my friend, Thomas Rush, £10. 

It. To my servant, John Hynde, my horsekeeper, £3 6s. 8d. 

Item. I will that mine executors shall safely keep the patent of the manorof Romney to the use of my son Gregory, and the money growing thereof, tillhe shall come to his lawful age, to be yearly received to the use of mysaid son, and the whole revenue thereof coming to be truly paid unto him atsuch time as he shall come to the age of 24 years. 

CHAPTER VII

THE LAST EFFORTS OF DIPLOMACY

I have now to resume the thread of the political history where it wasdropped at the sentence of divorce pronounced by Cranmer, and thecoronation of the new queen. The effect was about to be ascertained ofthese bold measures upon Europe; and of what their effect would be, only somuch could be foretold with certainty, that the time for trifling was past, and the pope and Francis of France would be compelled to declare their trueintentions. If these intentions were honest, the subordination of Englandto the papacy might be still preserved in a modified form. The papaljurisdiction was at end, but the spiritual supremacy of the Bishop of Rome, with a diminished but considerable revenue attached to it, remainedunaffected; and it was for the pope to determine whether, by fulfilling atlast his original engagements, he would preserve these remnants of hispower and privileges, or boldly take up the gage, excommunicate hisdisobedient subjects, and attempt by force to bring them back to theirallegiance. 

The news of what had been done did not take him wholly by surprise. It wasknown at Brussels at the end of April that the king had married. The queenregent[595] spoke of it to the ambassador sternly and significantly, notconcealing her expectation of the mortal resentment which would be felt byher brothers;[596] and the information was forwarded with the leastpossible delay to the cardinals of the imperial faction at Rome. The truepurposes which underlay the contradiction of Clement's language areundiscoverable. Perhaps in the past winter he had been acting out a deepintrigue--perhaps he was drifting between rival currents, and yielded inany or all directions as the alternate pressure varied; yet whatever hadbeen the meaning of his language, whether it was a scheme to deceive Henry, or was the expression only of weakness and good-nature desiring to avoid aquarrel to the latest moment, the decisive step which had been taken in themarriage, even though it was nominally undivulged, obliged him to choosehis course and openly adhere to it. After the experience of the past, therecould be no doubt what that course would be. 

On the 12th of May a citation was issued against the King of England, summoning him to appear by person or proxy at a stated day. It had beenunderstood that no step of such a kind was to be taken before the meetingof the pope and Francis; Bennet, therefore, Henry's faithful secretary, hastily inquired the meaning of this measure. The pope told him that itcould not be avoided, and the language which he used revealed to theEnglish agent the inevitable future. The king, he said, had defied theinhibitory brief which had been lately issued, and had incurredexcommunication; the imperialists insisted that he should be proceededagainst for contempt, and that the excommunication should at once bepronounced. However great might be his own personal reluctance, it was notpossible for him to remain passive; and if he declined to resort at once tothe more extreme exercise of his power, the hesitation was merely until theemperor was prepared to enforce the censures of the church with the stronghand. It stood not "with his honour to execute such censures, " he said, "and the same not to be regarded. "[597] But there was no wish to spareHenry; and if Francis could be detached from his ally, and if the conditionof the rest of Christendom became such as to favour the enterprise, Englandmight evidently look for the worst which the pope, with the Catholicpowers, could execute. If the papal court was roused into so menacing amood by the mere intimation of the secret marriage, it was easy to foreseewhat would ensue when the news arrived of the proceedings at Dunstable. Bennet entreated that the process should be delayed till the interview; butthe pope answered coldly that he had done his best and could do no more;the imperialists were urgent, and he saw no reason to refuse theirpetition. [598] This was Clement's usual language, but there was somethingpeculiar in his manner. He had been often violent, but he had never shownresolution, and the English agents were perplexed. The mystery was soonexplained. He had secured himself on the side of France; and Francis, whoat Calais had told Henry that his negotiations with the see of Rome weresolely for the interests of England, that for Henry's sake he was marryinghis son into a family beneath him in rank, that Henry's divorce was to formthe especial subject of his conference with the pope, had consented toallow these dangerous questions to sink into a secondary place, and hadrelinquished his intention, if he had ever seriously entertained it, ofbecoming an active party in the English quarrel. 

The long-talked-of interview was still delayed. First it was to have takenplace in the winter, then in the spring; June was the date last fixed forit, and now Bennet had to inform the king that it would not take placebefore September; and that, from the terms of a communication which hadjust passed between the parties who were to meet, the subjects discussed atthe conference would not be those which he had been led to expect. Francis, in answer to a question from the pope, had specified three things which heproposed particularly to "intreat. " The first concerned the defence ofChristendom against the Turks, the second concerned the general council, and the third concerned "the extinction of the Lutheran sect. "[599] Thesewere the points which the Most Christian king was anxious to discuss withthe pope. For the latter good object especially, "he would devise and treatfor the provision of an army. " In the King of England's cause, he trusted"some means might be found whereby it might be compounded;"[600] but ifpersuasion failed, there was no fear lest he should have recourse to anyother method. 

It was this which had given back to the pope his courage. It was this whichBennet had now to report to Henry. The French alliance, it was too likely, would prove a broken reed, and pierce the hand that leant upon it. 

Henry knew the danger; but danger was not a very terrible thing either tohim or to his people. If he had conquered his own reluctance to risk aschism in the church, he was not likely to yield to the fear of isolation;and if there was something to alarm in the aspect of affairs, there wasalso much to encourage. His parliament was united and resolute. His queenwas pregnant. The Nun of Kent had assigned him but a month to live afterhis marriage; six months had passed, and he was alive and well; thesupernatural powers had not declared against him; and while safe withrespect to enmity from above, the earthly powers he could afford to defy. When he finally divorced Queen Catherine, he must have foreseen his presentposition at least as a possibility, and if not prepared for so swift anapostasy in Francis, and if not yet wholly believing it, we may satisfyourselves he had never absolutely trusted a prince of metal soquestionable. 

The Duke of Norfolk was waiting at the French court, with a magnificentembassy, to represent the English king at the interview. The arrival of thepope had been expected in May. It was now delayed till September; and ifClement came after all, it would be for objects in which England had butsmall concern. It was better for England that there should be no meeting atall, than a meeting to devise schemes for the massacre of Lutherans. Henrytherefore wrote to the Duke, telling him generally what he had heard fromRome; he mentioned the three topics which he understood were to form thematter of discussion; but he skilfully affected to regard them as havingoriginated with the imperialists, and not with the French king. In a longpaper of instructions, in which earnestness and irony were strangelyblended, he directed the ambassador to treat his good brother as if he werestill exclusively devoted to the interests of England; and to urge uponhim, on the ground of this fresh delay, that the interview should not takeplace at all. [601]

"Our pleasure is, " he wrote, "that ye shall say--that we be not a littlemoved in our heart to see our good brother and us, being such princes ofChristendom, to be so handled with the pope, so much to our dishonour, andto the pope's and the emperor's advancement; seeming to be at the pope'scommandment to come or tarry as he or his cardinals shall appoint; and todepend upon his pleasure when to meet--that is to say, when he list ornever. If our good brother and we were either suitors to make request, theobtaining whereof we did much set by, or had any particular matter ofadvantage to entreat with him, these proceedings might be the bettertolerated; but our good brother having no particular matter of his own, andbeing . .. That [no] more glory nor surety could happen to the emperour thanto obtain the effect of the three articles moved by the pope and hiscardinals, we think it not convenient to attend the pleasure of the pope, to go or to abyde. We could have been content to have received and taken atthe pope's hand, jointly with our good brother, pleasure and friendship inour great cause; [but] on the other part, we cannot esteem the pope's partso high, as to have our good brother an attendant suitor therefore . .. Desiring him, therefore, in anywise to disappoint for his part the saidinterview; and if he have already granted thereto--upon some new goodoccasion, which he now undoubtedly hath--to depart from the same. 

"For we, ye may say, having the justness of our cause for us, with such anentire and whole consent of our nobility and commons of our realm andsubjects, and being all matters passed, and in such terms as they now be, do not find such lack and want of that the pope might do, with us oragainst us, as we would for the obtaining thereof be contented to have aFrench king our so perfect a friend, to be not only a mediator but a suitortherein, and a suitor attendant to have audience upon liking and after theadvice of such cardinals as repute it among pastymes to play and dally withkings and princes; whose honour, ye may say, is above all things, and moredear to us in the person of our good brother, than is any piece of ourcause at the pope's hands. And therefore, if there be none other thing butour cause, and the other causes whereof we be advertised, our advice, counsel, special desire also and request is, [that our good brother shall]break off the interview, unless the pope will make suit to him; and[unless] our said good brother hath such causes of his own as mayparticularly tend to his own benefit, honour, and profit--wherein he shalldo great and singular pleasure unto us; _giving to understand to the pope, that me know ourselves and him both, and look to be esteemed accordingly. _"

Should it appear that on receipt of this communication, Francis was stillresolved to persevere, and that he had other objects in view to which Henryhad not been made privy, the ambassadors were then to remind him of theremaining obligations into which he had entered; and to ascertain to whatdegree his assistance might be calculated upon, should the pope pronounceHenry deposed, and the emperor attempt to enforce the sentence. 

After forwarding these instructions, the king's next step was to anticipatethe pope by an appeal which would neutralise his judgment should he ventureupon it; and which offered a fresh opportunity of restoring the peace ofChristendom, if there was true anxiety to preserve that peace. The hinge ofthe great question, in the form which at last it assumed, was the validityor invalidity of the dispensation by which Henry had married his brother'swidow. Being a matter which touched the limit of the pope's power, the popewas himself unable to determine it in his own favour; and the onlyauthority by which the law could be ruled, was a general council. In thepreceding winter, the pope had volunteered to submit the question to thistribunal; but Henry believing that it was on the point of immediatesolution in another way, had then declined, on the ground that it wouldcause a needless delay. He was already married, and he had hoped thatsentence might be given in his favour in time to anticipate the publicationof the ceremony. But he was perfectly satisfied that justice was on hisside; and was equally confident of obtaining the verdict of Europe, if itcould be fairly pronounced. Now, therefore, under the alteredcircumstances, he accepted the offered alternative. He anticipated withtolerable certainty the effect which would be produced at Rome, when thenews should arrive there of the Dunstable divorce; and on the 29th of June, he appealed formally, in the presence of the Archbishop of York, from thepope's impending sentence, to the next general council. [602]

Of this curious document the substance was as follows:--It commenced with adeclaration that the king had no intention of acting otherwise than becamea good Catholic prince; or of injuring the church or attacking theprivileges conceded by God to the Holy See. If his words could be lawfullyshown to have such a tendency he would revoke, emend, and correct them in aCatholic spirit. 

The general features of the case were then recapitulated. His marriage withhis brother's wife had been pronounced illegal by the principaluniversities of Europe, by the clergy of the two provinces of the Church ofEngland, by the most learned theologians and canonists, and finally, by thepublic judgment of the church. [603] He therefore had felt himself free;and, "by the inspiration of the Host High, had lawfully married anotherwoman. " Furthermore, "for the common weal and tranquillity of the realm ofEngland, and for the wholesome rule and government of the same, he hadcaused to be enacted certain statutes and ordinances, by authority ofparliaments lawfully called for that purpose. " "Now, however, " hecontinued, "we fearing that his Holyness the Pope . .. Having in our saidcause treated us far otherwise than either respect for our dignity anddesert, or the duty of his own office required at his hands, and havingdone us many injuries which we now of design do suppress, but whichhereafter we shall be ready, should circumstances so require, to divulge. .. May now proceed to acts of further injustice, and heaping wrong onwrong, may pronounce the censures and other penalties of the spiritualsword against ourselves, our realm, and subjects, seeking thereby todeprive us of the use of the sacraments, and to cut us off, in the sight ofthe world, from the unity of the church, to the no slight hurt and injuryof our realm and subjects:

"Fearing these things, and desiring to preserve from detriment not onlyourselves, our own dignity and estimation, but also our subjects, committedto us by Almighty God; to keep them in the unity of the Christian faith, and in the wonted participation in the sacraments; that, when in truth theybe not cut off from the integrity of the church, nor can nor will be so cutoff in any manner, they may not appear to be so cut off in the estimationof men; [desiring further] to check and hold back our people whom God hasgiven to us, lest, in the event of such injury, they refuse utterly to obeyany longer the Roman Pontiff, as a hard and cruel pastor: [for thesecauses] and believing, from reasons probable, conjectures likely, and wordsused to our injury by his Holiness the Pope, which in divers manners havebeen brought to our ears, that some weighty act may be committed by him orothers to the prejudice of ourselves and of our realm;--We, therefore, inbehalf of all and every of our subjects, and of all persons adhering to usin this our cause, do make our appeal to the next general council, whichshall be lawfully held, in place convenient, with the consent of theChristian princes, and of such others as it may concern--not in contempt ofthe Holy See, but for defence of the truth of the Gospel, and for the othercauses afore rehearsed. And we do trust in God that it shall not beinterpreted as a thing ill done on our part, if preferring the salvation ofour soul and the relief of our conscience to any mundane respects orfavours, we have in this cause regarded more the Divine law than the lawsof man, and have thought it rather meet to obey God than to obey man. "[604]

By the appeal and the causes which were assigned for it, Henry pre-occupiedthe ground of the conflict; he entrenched himself in the "debateable land"of legal uncertainty; and until his position had been pronounced untenableby the general voice of Christendom, any sentence which the pope couldissue would have but a doubtful validity. It was, perhaps, but a slightadvantage; and the niceties of technical fencing might soon resolvethemselves into a question of mere strength; yet, in the opening of greatconflicts, it is well, even when a resort to force is inevitable, to throwon the opposing party the responsibility of violence; and Henry had beenled, either by a refinement of policy, or by the plain straightforwardnessof his intentions, into a situation where he could expect without alarm theunrolling of the future. 

The character of that future was likely soon to be decided. The appeal waspublished on the 29th of June; and as the pope must have heard, by themiddle of the month at latest, of the trial and judgment at Dunstable, afew days would bring an account of the manner in which he had received theintelligence. Prior to the arrival of the couriers, Bennet, with theassistance of Cardinal Tournon, had somewhat soothed down his exasperation. Francis, also, having heard that immediate process was threatened, hadwritten earnestly to deprecate such a measure;[605] and though he took theinterference "very displeasantly, "[606] the pope could not afford to lose, by premature impatience; the fruit of all his labour and diplomacy, and hadyielded so far as to promise that nothing of moment should be done. To thisstate of mind he had been brought one day in the second week of June. Themorning after, Bennet found him "sore altered. " The news of "my Lord ofCanterbury's proceedings" had arrived the preceding night; and "hisHoliness said that [such] doings were too sore for him to stand still atand do nothing. "[607] It was "against his duty towards God and the world totolerate them. " The imperialist cardinals, impatient before, clamoured thatthe evil had been caused by the dilatory timidity with which the case hadbeen handled from the first. [608] The consistory sate day after day withclosed doors;[609] and even such members of it as had before inclined tothe English side, joined in the common indignation. "Some extreme process"was instantly looked for, and the English agents, in their daily interviewswith the pope, were forced to listen to language which it was hard to bearwith equanimity. Bennet's well-bred courtesy carried him successfullythrough the difficulty; his companion Bonner was not so fortunate. Bonner'stongue was insolent, and under bad control. He replied to menace byimpertinence; and on one occasion was so exasperating, that Clementthreatened to burn him alive, or boil him in a caldron of lead. [610] Whenfairly roused, the old man was dangerous; and the future Bishop of Londonwrote to England in extremity of alarm. His letter has not been found, butthe character of it may be perceived from the reassuring reply of the king. The agents, Henry said, were not to allow themselves to be frightened; theywere to go on calmly, with their accustomed diligence and dexterity, disputing the ground from point to point, and trust to him. Their cause wasgood, and, with God's help, he would be able to defend them from the maliceof their adversaries. [611]

Fortunately for Bonner, the pope's passion was of brief duration, and theexperiment whether Henry's arm could reach to the dungeons of the Vaticanremained untried. The more moderate of the cardinals, also, somethingassuaged the storm; and angry as they all were, the majority still saw thenecessity of prudence. In the heat of the irritation, final sentence was tohave been pronounced upon the entire cause, backed by interdict, excommunication, and the full volume of the papal thunders. At the close ofa month's deliberation they resolved to reserve judgement on the originalquestion, and to confine themselves for the present to revenging the insultto the pope by "my Lord of Canterbury. " Both the king and the archbishophad disobeyed a formal inhibition. On the 12th of July, the pope issued abrief, declaring Cranmer's judgment to have been illegal, the Englishprocess to have been null and void, and the king, by his disobedience, tohave incurred, _ipso facto_, the threatened penalties of excommunication. Of his clemency he suspended these censures till the close of the followingSeptember, in order that time might be allowed to restore the respectiveparties to their old positions: if within that period the parties were notso restored, the censures would fall. [612] This brief was sent intoFlanders, and fixed in the usual place against the door of a church inDunkirk. 

Henry was prepared for a measure which was no more than natural. He hadbeen prepared for it as a possibility when he married. Both he and Francismust have been prepared for it on their meeting at Calais, when the Frenchking advised him to marry, and promised to support him through theconsequences. His own measures had been arranged beforehand, and he hadsecured himself in technical entrenchments by his appeal. After the issueof the brief, however, he could allow no English embassy to complimentClement by its presence on his visit to France. He "knew the pope, " as hesaid. Long experience had shown him that nothing was to be gained byyielding in minor points; and the only chance which now remained ofpreserving the established order of Christendom, was to terrify the Vaticancourt into submission by the firmness of his attitude. For the presentcomplications, the court of Rome, not he, was responsible. The pope, with aculpable complacency for the emperor, had shrunk from discharging a dutywhich his office imposed upon him; and the result had been, that the dutywas discharged by another. Henry could not blame himself for theconsequences of Clement's delinquency. He rather felt himself wronged inhaving been driven to so extreme a measure against his will. He resolved, therefore, to recall the embassy, and once more, though with no great hopethat he would be successful, to invite Francis to fulfil his promise, andto unite with himself in expressing his resentment at the pope's conduct. 

His despatch to the Duke of Norfolk on this occasion was the natural sequelof what he had written a few weeks previously. That letter had failedwholly of its effect. The interview was resolved upon for quite otherreasons than those which were acknowledged, and therefore was not to begiven up. A promise, however, had been extracted, that it should be givenup, if in the course of the summer the pope "innovated anything" againstthe King of England; and Henry now required, formally, that this engagementshould be observed. "A notorious and notable innovation" had been made, andFrancis must either deny his words, or adhere to them. It would be evidentto all the world, if the interview took place under the presentcircumstances, that the alliance with England was no longer of theimportance with him which it had been; that his place in the struggle, whenthe struggle came, would be found on the papal side. 

The language of Henry throughout this paper was very fine and noble. Hereminded Francis that substantially the cause at issue was the cause of allprinces; the pope claiming a right to summon them to plead in the courts ofRome, and refusing to admit their exemption as sovereign rulers. He hadbeen required not only to undo his marriage, and cancel the sentence ofdivorce, but, as a condition of reconciliation with the Holy See, to undoalso, the Act of Appeals, and to restore the papal jurisdiction. He desiredit to be understood, with emphasis, that these points were all equallysacred, and the repeal of the act was as little to be thought of as theannulling the marriage. "The pope, " he said, "did inforce us to excogitatesome new thing, whereby we might be healed and relieved of that continualdisease, to care for our cause at Rome, where such defence was taken fromus, as by the laws of God, nature, and man, is due unto us. Hereupondepended the wealth of our realm; hereupon consisted the surety of oursuccession, which by no other means could be well assured. " "Andtherefore, " he went on, "you [the Duke] shall say to our good brother, thatthe pope persisting in the ways he hath entered, ye must needs despair inany meeting between the French king and the pope, to produce any sucheffect as to cause us to meet in concord with the pope; but we shall beeven as far asunder as is between yea and nay. For to the pope's enterpriseto revoke or put back anything that is done here, either in marriage, statute, sentence, or proclamation[613]--of which four members is knit andconjoined the surety of our matter, nor any can be removed from the other, lest thereby the whole edifice should be destroyed--we will and shall, byall ways and means say nay, and declare our nay in such sort as the worldshall hear, and the pope feel it. Wherein ye may say our firm trust, perfect hope, and assured confidence is, that our good brother will agreewith us; as well for that it should be partly dishonourable for him to seedecay the thing that was of his own foundation and planting: as also thatit should be too much dishonourable for us--having travelled so far in thismatter, and brought it to this point, that all the storms of the yearpassed, it is now come to harvest, trusting to see shortly the fruit of ourmarriage, to the wealth, joy, and comfort of all our realm, and our ownsingular consolation--that anything should now be done by us to impair thesame, and to put our issue either in peril of bastardy, or otherwisedisturb that [which] is by the whole agreement of our realm established fortheir and our commodity, wealth, and benefit. And in this determination yeknow us to be so fixed, and the contrary hereof to be so infeasible, eitherat our hands, or by the consent of the realm, that ye must needs despair ofany order to be taken by the French king with the pope. For if any were byhim taken wherein any of these four pieces should be touched--that is tosay, the marriage of the queen our wife, the revocation of the Bishop ofCanterbury's sentence, the statute of our realm, or our late proclamation, which be as it were one--and as walls, covering, the foundation make ahouse, so they knit together, establish, and make one matter--ye be wellassured, and be so ascertained from us, that in no wise we will relent, butwill, as we have before written, withstand the same. Whereof ye may saythat ye have thought good to advertise him, to the intent he make nofarther promise to the pope therein than may be performed. "

The ambassadors were the more emphatically to insist on the king'sresolution, lest Francis, in his desire for conciliation, might hold outhopes to the pope which could not be realised. They were to say, however, that the King of England still trusted that the interview would not takeplace. The see of Rome was asserting a jurisdiction which, if conceded, would encourage an unlimited usurpation. If princes might be cited to thepapal courts in a cause of matrimony, they might be cited equally in othercauses at the pope's pleasure; and the free kingdoms of Europe would beconverted into dependent provinces of the see of Rome. It concerned alikethe interest and the honour of all sovereigns to resist encroachments whichpointed to such an issue; and, therefore, Henry said he hoped that his goodbrother would use the pope as he had deserved, "doing him to understand hisfolly, and [that] unless he had first made amends, he could not find in hisheart to have further amity with him. "

If notwithstanding, the instructions concluded, "all these persuasionscannot have place to let the said meeting, and the French king shall say itis expedient for him to have in his hands the duchess, [614] under pretenceof marriage for his son, which he cannot obtain but by this means, ye shallsay that ye remember ye heard him say once he would never conclude thatmarriage but to do us good, which is now infaisible; and now in the voiceof the world shall do us both more hurt in the diminution of the reputationof our amity than it should do otherwise profit. Nevertheless, [if] yecannot let his precise determination, [ye] can but lament and bewail yourown chance to depart home in this sort; and that yet of the twoinconvenients, it is to you more tolerable to return to us nothing done, than to be present at the interview and to be compelled to look patientlyupon your master's enemy. "

After having entered thus their protest against the French king's conduct, the embassy was to return to England, leaving a parting intimation of thesingle condition under which Henry would consent to treat. If the popewould declare that "the matrimony with the Lady Catherine was and isnought, he should do somewhat not to be refused;" except with thispreliminary, no offer whatever could be entertained. [615]

This communication, as Henry anticipated, was not more effectual than theformer in respect of its immediate object. At the meeting of Calais theinterests of Francis had united him with England, and in pursuing theobjects of Henry he was then pursuing his own. The pope and the emperor haddissolved the coalition by concessions on the least dangerous side. Theinterests of Francis lay now in the other direction, and there are fewinstances in history in which governments have adhered to obligationsagainst their advantage from a spirit of honour, when the purposes withwhich they contracted those obligations have been otherwise obtained. TheEnglish embassy returned as they were ordered; the French court pursuedtheir way to Marseilles; not quarrelling with England; intending to abideby the alliance, and to give all proofs of amity which did not involveinconvenient sacrifices; but producing on the world at large by theirconduct the precise effect which Henry had foretold. The world at large, looking to acts rather than to words, regarded the interview as acontrivance to reconcile Francis and the emperor through the interventionof the pope, as a preliminary for a packed council, and for a holy waragainst the Lutherans[616]--a combination of ominous augury to Christendom, from the consequences of which, if Germany was to be the first sufferer, England would be inevitably the second. 

Meanwhile, as the French alliance threatened to fail, the Englishgovernment found themselves driven at last to look for a connection amongthose powers from whom they had hitherto most anxiously disconnectedthemselves. At such a time. Protestant Germany, not Catholic France, wasEngland's natural friend. The Reformation was essentially a Teutonicmovement; the Germans, the English, the Scotch, the Swedes, the Hollanders, all were struggling on their various roads towards an end essentially thesame. The same dangers threatened them, the same inspiration moved them;and in the eyes of the orthodox Catholics they were united in a blackcommunion of heresy. Unhappily, though this identity was obvious to theirenemies, it was far from obvious to themselves. The odium theologicum isever hotter between sections of the same party which are divided bytrifling differences, than between the open representatives of antagonistprinciples; and Anglicans and Lutherans, instead of joining hands acrossthe Channel, endeavoured only to secure each a recognition of themselves atthe expense of the other. The English plumed themselves on their orthodoxy. They were "not as those publicans, " heretics, despisers of the keys, disobedient to authority; they desired only the independence of theirnational church, and they proved their zeal for the established faith withall the warmth of persecution. To the Germans national freedom was ofwholly minor moment, in comparison with the freedom of the soul; theorthodoxy of England was as distasteful to the disciples of Luther as theorthodoxy of Rome--and the interests of Europe were sacrificed on bothsides to this foolish and fatal disunion. Circumstances indeed would notpermit the division to remain in its first intensity, and their commondanger compelled the two nations into a partial understanding. Yet thereconciliation, imperfect to the last, was at the outset all butimpossible. Their relations were already embittered by many reciprocal actsof hostility. Henry VIII. Had won his spurs as a theologian by an attack onLuther. Luther had replied by a hailstorm of invectives. The Lutheran bookshad been proscribed, the Lutherans themselves had' been burnt by Henry'sbishops. The Protestant divines in Germany had attempted to conciliate theemperor by supporting the cause of Catherine; and Luther himself had spokenloudly in condemnation of the king. The elements of disunion were so manyand so powerful, that there was little hope of contending against themsuccessfully. Nevertheless, as Henry saw, the coalition of Francis and theemperor, if the pope succeeded in cementing it, was a most serious danger, to which an opposite alliance would alone be an adequate counterpoise; andthe experiment might at least be tried whether such an alliance waspossible. At the beginning of August, therefore, Stephen Vaughan was senton a tentative mission to the Elector of Saxe, John Frederick, atWeimar. [617] He was the bearer of letters containing a proposal for aresident English ambassador; and if the elector gave his consent, he was toproceed with similar offers to the courts of the Landgrave of Hesse and theDuke of Lunenberg. [618] Vaughan arrived in due time at the elector's court, was admitted to audience and delivered his letters. The prince read them, and in the evening of the same day returned for answer a polite but whollyabsolute refusal. Being but a prince elector, he said, he might not aspireto so high an honour as to be favoured with the presence of an Englishambassador. It was not the custom in Germany, and he feared that if heconsented he should displease the emperor. [619] The meaning of such a replydelivered in a few hours was not to be mistaken, however disguised incourteous language. The English emissary saw that he was an unwelcomevisitor, and that he must depart with the utmost celerity. "The elector, "he wrote, [620] "thirsted to have me gone from him, which I right wellperceived by evident tokens which declared unto me the same. " He had noanxiety to expose to hazard the toleration which the Protestant dukedoms asyet enjoyed from the emperor, by committing himself to a connection with aprince with whose present policy he had no sympathy, and whose conversionto the cause of the Reformation he had as yet no reason to believesincere. [621]

The reception which Vaughan met with at Weimar satisfied him that he needgo no further; neither the Landgrave nor the Duke of Lunenberg would belikely to venture on a course which the elector so obviously feared. He, therefore, gave up his mission, and returned to England. 

The first overtures in this direction issued in complete failure, nor wasthe result wholly to be regretted. It taught Henry (or it was a firstcommencement of the lesson) that so long as he pursued a merely Englishpolicy he might not expect that other nations would embroil themselves inhis defence. He must allow the Reformation a wider scope, he must permit itto comprehend within its possible consequences the breaking of the chainsby which his subjects' minds were bound--not merely a change of jailors. Then perhaps the German princes might return some other answer. 

The disappointment, however, fell lightly; for before the account of thefailure had reached England, an event had happened, which, poor as the kingmight be in foreign alliances, had added most material strength to hisposition in England. The full moment of that event he had no means ofknowing. In its immediate bearing it was matter for most abundantsatisfaction. On the seventh of September, between three and four in theafternoon, at the palace of Greenwich, was born a princess, named threedays later in her baptism, after the king's mother, Elizabeth. [622] A sonhad been hoped for. The child was a daughter only; yet at least Providencehad not pronounced against the marriage by a sentence of barrenness; atleast there was now an heir whose legitimacy the nation had agreed toaccept. Te Deums were sung in all the churches; again the river deckeditself in splendour; again all London steeples were musical with bells. Afont of gold was presented for the christening. Francis, in compensationfor his backslidings, had consented to be godfather; and the infant, whowas soon to find her country so rude a stepmother, was received with allthe outward signs of exulting welcome. To Catherine's friends the offspringof the rival marriage was not welcome, but was an object rather of bitterhatred; and the black cloud of a sister's jealousy gathered over the cradlewhose innocent occupant had robbed her of her title and her expectations. To the king, to the parliament, to the healthy heart of England, she was anobject of eager hope and an occasion for thankful gratitude; but the seedswere sown with her birth of those misfortunes which were soon to overshadowher, and to form the school of the great nature which in its maturity wouldre-mould the world. 

Leaving Elizabeth for the present, we return to the continent, and to thelong-promised interview, which was now at last approaching. Henry made nofurther attempt to remonstrate with Francis; and Francis assured him, andwith all sincerity, that he would use his best efforts to move the pope tomake the necessary concessions. The English embassy meanwhile waswithdrawn. The excommunication had been received as an act of hostility, ofwhich Henry would not even condescend to complain; and it was to beunderstood distinctly that in any exertions which might be made by theFrench king, the latter was acting without commission on his ownresponsibility. The intercession was to be the spontaneous act of a mutualfriend, who, for the interests of Christendom, desired to heal a dangerouswound; but neither directly nor indirectly was it to be interpreted as anexpression of a desire for a reconciliation on the English side. 

It was determined further, on the recal of the Duke of Norfolk, that theopportunity of the meeting should be taken to give a notice to the pope ofthe king's appeal to the council; and for this purpose, Bennet and Bonnerwere directed to follow the papal court from Rome. Bennet neveraccomplished this journey, dying on the route, worn out with muchservice. [623] His death delayed Bonner, and the conferences had opened formany days before his arrival. Clement had reached Marseilles by ship fromGenoa, about the 20th of October. As if pointedly to irritate Henry, he hadplaced himself under the conduct of the Duke of Albany. [624] He wasfollowed two days later by his fair niece, Catherine de Medici; and thepreparations for the marriage were commenced with the utmost swiftness andsecrecy. The conditions of the contract were not allowed to transpire, butthey were concluded in three days; and on this 25th of October the popebestowed his precious present on the Duke of Orleans, he himself performingthe nuptial ceremony, and accompanying it with his paternal benediction onthe young pair, and on the happy country which was to possess them for itsking and queen. France being thus securely riveted to Rome, other matterscould be talked of more easily. Francis made all decent overtures to thepope in behalf of Henry; if the pope was to be believed indeed, he wasvehemently urgent. [625] Clement in turn made suggestions for terms ofalliance between Francis and Charles, "to the advantage of the MostChristian king;"[626] and thus parried the remonstrances. The only pointpositively clear to the observers, was the perfect understanding whichexisted between the King of France and his spiritual father. [627] Unusualactivity was remarked in the dockyards; Italian soldiers of fortune wereabout the court in unusual numbers, and apparently in favour. [628] Aninvasion of Lombardy was talked of among the palace retinue; and theemperor was said to distrust the intentions of the conference. Possiblyexperience had taught all parties to doubt each other's faith. Possiblythey were all in some degree waiting upon events; and had not yet resolvedupon their conduct. 

In the midst of this scene arrived Doctor Bonner, in the beginning ofNovember, with Henry's appeal. He was a strange figure to appear in such asociety. There was little probity, perhaps, either in the court of France, or in their Italian visitors: but of refinement, of culture, of thosegraces which enable men to dispense with the more austere excellences ofcharacter--which transform licentiousness into elegant frailty, andtreachery and falsehood into pardonable finesse--of these there was verymuch: and when a rough, coarse, vulgar Englishman was plunged among thesedelicate ladies and gentlemen, he formed an element which contrastedstrongly with the general environment. Yet Banner, perhaps, was not withoutqualifications which fitted him for his mission. He was not, indeed, virtuous; but he had a certain downright honesty about him, joined with anentire insensibility to those finer perceptions which would have interferedwith plain speaking, where plain speaking was desirable; he had a broad, not ungenial humour, which showed him things and persons in their genuinelight, and enabled him to picture them for us with a distinctness for whichwe owe him lasting thanks. 

He appeared at Marseilles on the 7th of November, and had much difficultyin procuring an interview. At length, weary of waiting, and regardless ofthe hot lead with which he had been lately threatened, he forced his wayinto the room where "the pope was standing, with the Cardinals De Lorraineand Medici, ready apparelled with his stole to go to the consistory. "

"Incontinently upon my coming thither, " he wrote to Henry, [629] "the pope, whose sight is incredulous quick, eyed me, and that divers times; making agood pause in one place; at which time I desired the datary to advertisehis Holiness that I would speak with him; and albeit the datary made nolittle difficulty therein, yet perceiving that upon refusal I would havegone forthwith to the pope, he advertised the pope of my said desire. HisHoliness dismissing as then the said cardinals, and letting his vesturefall, went to a window in the said chamber, calling me unto him. At whichtime I showed unto his Holiness how that your Highness had given me expressand strait commandment to intimate unto him how that your Grace hadsolemnly provoked and appealed unto the general council; submittingyourself to the tuition and defence thereof; which provocation and appeal Ihad under authentic writings then with me, to show for that purpose. Andherewithal I drew out the said writing, showing his said Holiness that Ibrought the same in proof of the premises, and that his Holiness might seeand perceive all the same. The pope having this for a breakfast, onlypulled down his head to his shoulders, after the Italian fashion, and saidthat because he was as then fully ready to go into the consistory, he wouldnot tarry to hear or see the said writings, but willed me to come atafternoon. "

The afternoon came, and Bonner returned, and was admitted. There was someconversation upon indifferent matters; the pope making good-naturedinquiries about Bennet, and speaking warmly and kindly of him. 

"Presently, " Bonner continues, "falling out of that, he said that hemarvelled your Highness would use his Holiness after such sort as itappears ye did. I said that your Highness no less did marvel that hisHoliness having found so much benevolence and kindness at your hands in alltimes past, would for acquittal show such unkindness as of late he did. Andhere we entered in communication upon two points: one was that hisHoliness, having committed in times past, and in most ample form, the causeinto the realm, promising not to revoke the said commission, and over that, to confirm the process and sentence of the commissaries, should not at thepoint of sentence have advoked the cause, retaining it at Rome--forasmuchas Rome was a place whither your Highness could not, ne yet ought, personally to come unto, and also was not bound to send thither yourproctor. The second point was, that your Highness's cause being, in theopinion of the best learned men in Christendom, approved good and just, andso [in] many ways known unto his Holiness, the same should not so long haveretained it in his hands without judgment. 

"His Holiness answering the same, as touching the first point, said that ifthe queen (meaning the late wife of Prince Arthur, calling her always inhis conversation the queen) had not given an oath refusing the judges assuspect, he would not have advoked the matter at all, but been content thatit should have been determined and ended in your realm. But seeing she gavethat oath, appealing also to his court, he might and ought to hear her, hispromise made to your Highness, which was qualified, notwithstanding. Astouching the second point, his Holiness said that your Highness only wasthe default thereof, because ye would not send a proxy to the cause. Thesematters, however, he said, had been many times fully talked upon at Rome;and therefore [he] willed me to omit further communication thereupon, andto proceed to the doing of such things that I was specially sent for. 

"Whereupon making protestation of your Highness's mind and intent towardsthe see apostolic--not intending anything to do in contempt of the same--Iexhibited unto his Holiness the commission which your Highness had sentunto me; and his Holiness delivering it to the datary, commanded him toread it; and hearing in the same the words (referring to the injuries whichhe had done to your Highness), he began to look up after a new sort, andsaid, 'O questo et multo vero! (this is much true!)' meaning that it wasnot true indeed. And verily, sure not only in this, but also in many partsof the said commission, he showed himself grievously offended; insomuchthat, when those words, 'To the next general council which shall belawfully held in place convenient, ' were read, he fell in a marvellousgreat choler and rage, not only declaring the same by his gesture andmanner, but also by words: speaking with great vehemence, and saying, 'Whydid not the king, when I wrote to my nuncio this year past, to speak untohim for this general council, give no answer unto my said nuncio, butreferred him for answer to the French king? at what time he might perceiveby my doing, that I was very well disposed, and much spake for it. ' 'Thething so standing, now to speak of a general council! Oh, good Lord! butwell! his commission and all his other writings cannot be but welcome untome;' which words methought he spake willing to hide his choler, and make mebelieve that he was nothing angry with their doings, when in vary deed Iperceived, by many arguments, that it was otherwise. And one among otherswas taken here for infallible with them that knoweth the pope's conditions, that he was continually folding up and unwinding of his handkerchief, whichhe never doth but when he is tickled to the very heart with great choler. "

At length the appeal was read through; and at the close of it Francisentered, and talked to the pope for some time, but in so low a voice thatBonner could not hear what was passing. When he had gone, his Holiness saidthat he would deliberate upon the appeal with the consistory, and afterhearing their judgments would return his answer. 

Three days passed, and then the English agent was informed that he mightagain present himself. The pope had recovered his calmness. When he hadtime to collect himself, Clement could speak well and with dignity; and ifwe could forget that his conduct was substantially unjust, and that in hisconscience he knew it to be unjust, he would almost persuade us to believehim honest. "He said, " wrote Bonner, "that his mind towards your Highnessalways had been to minister justice, and to do pleasure to you; albeit ithath not been so taken: and he never unjustly grieved your Grace that heknoweth, nor intendeth hereafter to do. As concerning the appeal, he saidthat, forasmuch as there was a constitution of Pope Pius, his predecessor, that did condemn and reprove all such appeals, he did therefore reject yourGrace's appeal as frivolous, forbidden, and unlawful. " As touching thecouncil, he said generally, that he would do his best that it should meet;but it was to be understood that the calling a general council belonged tohim, and not to the King of England. 

The audience ended, and Bonner left the pope convinced that he intended, onhis return to Rome, to execute the censures and continue the processwithout delay. That the sentence which he would pronounce would be againstthe king appeared equally certain. 

It appeared certain, yet after all no certain conclusion is possible. Francis I. , though not choosing to quarrel with the see of Rome to do apleasure to Henry, was anxious to please his ally to the extent of hisconvenience; at any rate, he would not have gratuitously deceived him; andstill less would he have been party to an act of deliberate treachery. WhenBonner was gone he had a last interview with the pope, in which he urgedupon him the necessity of complying with Henry's demands; and the pope onthis occasion said that he was satisfied that the King of England wasright; that his cause was good; and that he had only to acknowledge thepapal jurisdiction by some formal act, to find sentence immediatelypronounced in his favour. Except for his precipitation, and his refusal todepute a proxy to plead for him, his wishes would have been complied withlong before. In the existing posture of affairs, and after the measureswhich had been passed in England with respect to the see of Rome, hehimself, the pope said, could not make advances without some kind ofsubmission; but a single act of acknowledgment was all which herequired. [630]

Extraordinary as it must seem, the pope certainly bound himself by thisengagement: and who can tell with what intention? To believe him sincereand to believe him false seems equally impossible. If he was persuaded thatHenry's cause _was_ good, why did he in the following year pronouncefinally for Catherine? why had he imperilled so needlessly the interests ofthe papacy in England? why had his conduct from the beginning pointedsteadily to the conclusion at which he at last arrived? and why throughoutEurope were the ultramontane party, to a man, on Catherine's side? On theother hand, what object at such a time can be conceived for falsehood? Canwe suppose that he designed to dupe Henry into submission by a promisewhich he had predetermined to break? It is hard to suppose even Clementcapable of so elaborate an act of perfidy; and it is, perhaps, idle towaste conjectures on the motives of a weak, much-agitated man. He was, probably, but giving a fresh example of his disposition to say at eachmoment whatever would be most agreeable to his hearers. This was hisunhappy habit, by which he earned for himself a character for dishonesty, Ilabour to think, but half deserved. 

If, however, Clement meant to deceive, he succeeded, undoubtedly, indeceiving the French king. Francis, in communicating to Henry the languagewhich the pope had used, entreated him to reconsider his resolution. Theobjection to pleading at Rome might be overcome; for the pope would meethim in a middle course. Judges could be appointed, who should sit atCambray, and pass a sentence in condemnation of the original marriage; witha definite promise that their sentence should not again be called inquestion. To this arrangement there could be no reasonable objection; andFrancis implored that a proposal so liberal should not be rejected. Sufficient danger already threatened Christendom, from heretics within andfrom the Turks without; and although the English parliament were agreed tomaintain the second marriage, it was unwise to provoke the displeasure offoreign princes. To allow time for the preliminary arrangements, theexecution of the censures had been further postponed; and if Henry wouldmake up the quarrel, the French monarch was commissioned to offer a league, offensive and defensive, between England, France, and the Papacy. Hehimself only desired to be faithful to his engagements to his good brother;and as a proof of his good faith, he said that he had been offered theDuchy of Milan, if he would look on while the emperor and the pope attackedEngland. [631]

This language bears all the character of sincerity; and when we rememberthat it followed immediately upon a close and intimate communication ofthree weeks with Clement, it is not easy to believe that he could havemistaken the extent of the pope's promises. We may suppose Clement for themoment to have been honest, or wavering between honesty and falsehood; wemay suppose further that Francis trusted him because it was undesirable tobe suspicious, in the belief that he was discharging the duty of a friendto Henry, and of a friend to the church, in offering to mediate upon theseterms. 

But Henry was far advanced beyond the point at which fair words could movehim. He had trusted many times, and had been many times deceived. It wasnot easy to entangle him again. It mattered little whether Clement was weakor false; the result was the same--he could not be trusted. To an openEnglish understanding there was something monstrous in the position of aperson professing to be a judge, who admitted that a cause which lay beforehim was so clear that he could bind himself to a sentence upon it, andcould yet refuse to pronounce that sentence, except upon conditions. It wasscarcely for the interests of justice to leave the distribution of it inhands so questionable. 

Instead, therefore, of coming forward, as Francis hoped, instead ofconsenting to entangle himself again in the meshes of diplomatic intrigue, the king returned a peremptory refusal. 

The Duke of Norfolk, and such of the council as dreaded the completion ofthe schism, assured d'Inteville, the French ambassador, that for themselvesthey considered Francis was doing the best for England which could be done, and that they deprecated violent measures as much as possible; but in allthis party there was a secret leaning to Queen Catherine, a dislike ofQueen Anne and the whole Boleyn race, and a private hope and belief thatthe pope would after all be firm. Their tongues were therefore tied. Theydurst not speak except alone in whispers to each other; and the Frenchambassador, who did dare, only drew from Henry a more determined expressionof his resolution. 

As to his measures in England, the king said, the pope had begun thequarrel by issuing censures and by refusing to admit his reasons fordeclining to plead at Rome. He was required to send a proctor, and was toldthat the cause should be decided in favour of whichever party was sorepresented there. For the sake of all other princes as well as himself, hewould send no proctor, nor would he seem to acquiesce in the pretences ofthe papal see. The King of France told him that the pope admitted thejustice of his cause. Let the pope do justice, then. The laws passed inparliament were for the benefit of the commonwealth, and he would neverrevoke them. He demanded no reparation, and could make no reparation. Heasked only for his right, and if he could not obtain it, he had God andtruth on his side, and that was enough. In vain d'Inteville answeredfeebly, that his master had done all that was in his power; the kingreplied that the French council wished to entangle him with the pope; butfor his own part he would never more acknowledge the pope in his pretendedcapacity. He might be bishop of Rome, or pope also, if he preferred thename; but the see of Rome should have no more jurisdiction in England, andhe thought he would be none the worse Christian on that account, but ratherthe better. Jesus Christ he would acknowledge, and him only, as the trueLord of Christian men, and Christ's word only should be preached inEngland. The Spaniards might invade him as they threatened. He did not fearthem. They might come, but they might not find it so easy to return. [632]

The King had taken his position and was prepared for the consequences. Hehad foreseen for more than a year the possibility of an attempted invasion;and since his marriage, he had been aware that the chances of success inthe adventure had been discussed on the Continent by the papal and imperialparty. The pope had spoken of his censures being enforced, and Francis hadrevealed to Henry the nature of the dangerous overtures which had been madeto himself. The Lutheran princes had hurriedly declined to connectthemselves in any kind of alliance with England; and on the 25th ofSeptember, Stephen Vaughan had reported that troops were being raised inGermany, which rumour destined for Catherine's service. [633] Ireland, too, as we shall hear in the next chapter, was on the verge of an insurrection, which had been fomented by papal agents. 

Nevertheless, there was no real danger from an invasion, unless it wasaccompanied with an insurrection at home, or with a simultaneous attackfrom Scotland; and while of the first there appeared upon the surface noprobability, with Scotland a truce for a year had been concluded on the 1stof October. [634] The king, therefore, had felt himself reasonably secure. Parliament had seemed unanimous; the clergy were submissive; the nationacquiescent or openly approving;[635] and as late as the beginning ofNovember, 1533, no suspicion seems to have been entertained of the spreadof serious disaffection. A great internal revolution had been accomplished;a conflict of centuries between the civil and spiritual powers had beenterminated without a life lost or a blow struck. Partial murmurs there hadbeen, but murmurs were inevitable, and, so far as the government yet knew, were harmless. The Scotch war had threatened to be dangerous, but it hadbeen extinguished. Impatient monks had denounced the king from the pulpits, and disloyal language had been reported from other quarters, which hadroused vigilance, but had not created alarm. The Nun of Kent had forcedherself into the royal presence with menacing prophecies; but she hadappeared to be a harmless dreamer, who could only be made of importance bypunishment. The surface of the nation was in profound repose. Cromwell, like Walsingham after him, may perhaps have known of the fire which wassmouldering below, and have watched it silently till the moment came atwhich to trample it out; but no symptom of uneasiness appears either in theconduct of the government or in the official correspondence. Theorganisation of the friars, the secret communication of the Nun withCatherine and the Princess Mary, with the papal nuncio, or with noble lordsand reverend bishops, was either unknown, or the character of thosecommunications was not suspected. That a serious political conspiracyshould have shaped itself round the ravings of a seeming lunatic, to allappearance had not occurred as a possibility to a single member of thecouncil, except to those whose silence was ensured by their complicity. 

So far as we are able to trace the story (for the links of the chain whichled to the discovery of the design's which were entertained, are somethingimperfect), the suspicions of the government were first roused in thefollowing manner:

Queen Catherine, as we have already seen, had been called upon, at thecoronation of Anne Boleyn, to renounce her title, and she had refused. Maryhad been similarly deprived of her rank as princess; but either herdisgrace was held to be involved in that of her mother, or some othercause, perhaps the absence of immediate necessity, had postponed the demandfor her own personal submission. As, however, on the publication of thesecond marriage, it had been urged on Catherine that there could not be twoqueens in England, so on the birth of the Princess Elizabeth, an analogousargument required the disinheritance of Mary. It was a hard thing; but hermother's conduct obliged the king to be peremptory. She might have beenlegitimatised by act of parliament, if Catherine would have submitted. Theconsequences of Catherine's refusal might be cruel, but they wereunavoidable. 

Mary was not with her mother. It had been held desirable to remove her froman influence which would encourage her in a useless opposition; and she wasresiding at Beaulieu, afterwards New Hall, in Essex, under the care of LordHussey and the Countess of Salisbury. Lord Hussey was a dangerous guardian;he was subsequently executed for his complicity in the Pilgrimage of Grace, the avowed object of which was the restoration of Mary to her place asheir-apparent. We may believe, therefore, that while under his surveillanceshe experienced no severe restraint, nor received that advice with respectto her conduct which prudence would have dictated. Lord Hussey, however, for the present enjoyed the confidence of the king, and was directed toinform his charge, that for the future she was to consider herself not asprincess, but as the king's natural daughter, the Lady Mary Tudor. Themessage was a painful one; painful, we will hope, more on her mother'saccount than on her own; but her answer implied that, as yet, Henry VIII. Was no object of especial terror to his children. 

"Her Grace replied, " wrote Lord Hussey to the council in communicating theresult of his undertaking, [636] that "she could not a little marvel that Ibeing alone, and not associate with some other the king's most honourablecouncil, nor yet sufficiently authorised neither by commission not by anyother writing from the King's Highness, would attempt to declare such ahigh enterprise and matter of no little weight and importance unto herGrace, in diminishing her said estate and name; her Grace not doubting thatshe is the king's true and legitimate daughter and heir procreate in goodand lawful matrimony; [and] further adding, that unless she were advertisedfrom his Highness by his writing that his Grace was so minded to diminishher estate, name, and dignity, which she trusteth his Highness will neverdo, she would not believe it. "

Inasmuch as Mary was but sixteen at this time, the resolution which shedisplayed in sending such a message was considerable. The early Englishheld almost Roman notions on the nature of parental authority, and the toneof a child to a father was usually that of the most submissive reverence. Nor was she contented with replying indirectly through her guardian. Shewrote herself to the king, saying that she neither could nor would in herconscience think the contrary, but that she was his lawful daughter born intrue matrimony, and that she thought that he in his own conscience didjudge the same. [637]

Such an attitude in so young a girl was singular, yet not necessarilycensurable. Henry was not her only parent, and if we suppose her to havebeen actuated by affection for her mother, her conduct may appear notpardonable only, but spirited and creditable. In insisting upon herlegitimacy, nevertheless, she was not only asserting the good name and fameof Catherine of Arragon, but unhappily her own claim to the succession tothe throne. It was natural that under the circumstances she should havefelt her right to assert that claim; for the injury which she had sufferedwas patent not only to herself, but to Europe. Catherine might have beenrequired to give way that the king might have a son, and that thesuccession might be established in a prince; but so long as the child ofthe second marriage was a daughter only, it seemed substantially monstrousto set aside the elder for the younger. Yet the measure was a harshnecessity; a link in the chain which could not be broken. The harassednation insisted above all things that no doubt should hang over the future, and it was impossible in the existing complications to recognise thedaughter of Catherine without excluding Elizabeth, and excluding the princewho was expected to follow her. By asserting her title, Mary was makingherself the nucleus of sedition, which on her father's death would lead toa convulsion in the realm. She might not mean it, but the result would notbe affected by a want of purpose in herself; and it was possible that herresolution might create immediate and far more painful complications. Theking's excommunication was imminent, and if the censures were enforced bythe emperor, she would be thrust into the unpermitted position of herfather's rival. 

The political consequences of her conduct, notwithstanding, althoughevident to statesmen, might well be concealed from a headstrong, passionategirl. There was no suspicion that she herself was encouraging any of thesedangerous thoughts, and Henry looked upon her answer to Lord Hussey and herletter to himself as expressions of petulant folly. Lord Oxford, the Earlof Essex, and the Earl of Sussex were directed to repair to Beaulieu, andexplain to her the situation in which she had placed herself. 

"Considering, " wrote the king to them, "how highly such contempt andrebellion done by our daughter and her servants doth touch not only us, andthe surety of our honour and person, but also the tranquillity of ourrealm; and not minding to suffer the pernicious example hereof to spreadfar abroad, but to put remedy to the same in due time, we have given youcommandment to declare to her the great folly, temerity, and indiscretionthat she hath used herein, with the peril she hath incurred by reason ofher so doing. By these her ungodly doings hitherto she hath most worthilydeserved our high indignation and displeasure, and thereto no less pain andpunition than by the order of the laws of our realm doth appertain in caseof high treason, unless our mercy and clemency should be shewed in thatbehalf. [If, however, after] understanding our mind and pleasure, [shewill] conform herself humbly and obediently to the observation of the same, according to the office and duty of a natural daughter, and of a true andfaithful subject, she may give us cause hereafter to incline our fatherlypity to her reconciliation, her benefit and advancement. "[638]

The reply of Mary to this message is not discoverable; but it is certainthat she persisted in her resolution, and clung either to her mother's"cause" or to her own rank and privilege, in sturdy defiance of her father. To punish her insubordination or to tolerate it was equally difficult; andthe government might have been in serious embarrassment had not a series ofdiscoveries, following rapidly one upon the other, explained the mystery ofthese proceedings, and opened a view with alarming clearness into theunder-currents of the feeling of the country. 

Information from time to time had reached Henry from Rome, relating to thecorrespondence between Catherine and the pope. Perhaps, too, he knew howassiduously she had importuned the emperor to force Clement to adecision. [639] No effort, however, had been hitherto made to interfere withher hospitalities, or to oblige her visitors to submit to scrutiny beforethey could be admitted to her presence. She was the mistress of her owncourt and of her own actions; and confidential agents, both from Rome, Brussels, and Spain, had undoubtedly passed and repassed with reciprocalinstructions and directions. 

The crisis which was clearly approaching had obliged Henry, in the courseof this autumn, to be more watchful; and about the end of October, or thebeginning of November, [640] two friars were reported as having been atBugden, whose movements attracted suspicion from their anxiety to escapeobservation. Secret agents of the government, who had been "set" for thepurpose, followed the friars to London, and notwithstanding "many wiles andcautells by them invented to escape, " the suspected persons were arrestedand brought before Cromwell. Cromwell, "upon examination" could gathernothing from them of any moment or great importance; but, "entering onfurther communication, " he said, "he found one of them a very seditiousperson, and so committed them to ward. " The king was absent from London, but had left directions that, in the event of any important occurrence ofthe kind, Archbishop Cranmer should be sent for; but Cranmer not beingimmediately at hand, Cromwell wrote to Henry for instructions; inasmuch as, he said, "it is undoubted that they (the monks) have intended, and wouldconfess, some great matter, if they might be examined as they ought tobe--that is to say, by pains. "

The curtain here falls over the two prisoners; we do not know whether theywere tortured, whether they confessed, or what they confessed; but we maynaturally connect this letter, directly or indirectly, with the eventswhich immediately followed. In the middle of November we find a commissionsitting at Lambeth, composed of Cromwell, Cranmer, and Latimer, ravellingout the threads of a story, from which, when the whole was disentangled, itappeared that by Queen Catherine, the Princess Mary, and a large andformidable party in the country, the king, on the faith of a pretendedrevelation, was supposed to have forfeited the crown; that his death, either by visitation of God or by visitation of man, was daily expected;and that whether his death took place or not, a revolution was immediatelylooked for, which would place the princess on the throne. 

The Nun of Kent, as we remember, had declared that if Henry persisted inhis resolution of marrying Anne, she was commissioned by God to tell himthat he should lose his power and authority. She had not specified themanner in which the sentence would be carried into effect against him. Theform of her threats had been also varied occasionally; she said that heshould die, but whether by the hands of his subjects, or by a providentialjudgment, she left to conjecture;[641] and the period within which hispunishment was to fall upon him was stated variously at one month or atsix. [642] She had attempted no secresy with these prophecies; she hadconfined herself in appearance to words; and the publicity which shecourted having prevented suspicion of secret conspiracy, Henry quietlyaccepted the issue, and left the truth of the prophecy to be confuted bythe event. He married. The one month passed; the six months passed;eight--nine months. His child was born and was baptised, and no divinethunder had interposed; only a mere harmless verbal thunder, from a poorold man at Rome. The illusion, as he imagined, had been lived down, and hadexpired of its own vanity. 

But the Nun and her friar advisers were counting on other methods ofsecuring the fulfilment of the prophecy than supernatural assistance. It isremarkable that hypocrites and impostors as they knew themselves to be, they were not without a half belief that some supernatural intervention wasimminent; but the career on which they had entered was too fascinating toallow them to forsake it when their expectation failed them. They wereswept into the stream which was swelling to resist the Reformation, andallowed themselves to be hurried forward either to victory or todestruction. 

The first revelation being apparently confuted by facts, a second wasproduced as an interpretation of it; which, however, was not published likethe other, but whispered in secret to persons whose dispositions wereknown. [643]

"When the King's Grace, " says the report of the commissioners, "hadcontinued in good health, honour, and prosperity more than a month, Dr. Bocking shewed the said Nun, that as King Saul, abjected from his kingdomby God, yet continued king in the sight of the world, so her saidrevelations might be taken. And therefore the said Nun, upon thisinformation, forged another revelation, that her words should beunderstanded to mean that the King's Grace should not be king in thereputation or acceptation of God, not one month or one hour after that hemarried the Queen's Grace that now is. The first revelation had moved agreat number of the king's subjects, both high and low, to grudge againstthe said marriage before it was concluded and perfected; and also inducedsuch as were stiffly bent against that marriage, daily to look for thedestruction of the King's Grace within a month after he married the Queen'sGrace that now is. And when they were deluded in that expectation, thesecond revelation was devised not only as an interpretation of the former, but to the intent to induce the king's subjects to believe that God tookthe King's Grace for no king of this realm, and that they should likewisetake him for no righteous king, and themselves not bounden to be hissubjects; which might have put the King and the Queen's Grace in jeopardyof their crown and of their issue, and the people of this realm in greatdanger of destruction. "[644]

It was no light matter to pronounce the king to be in the position of Saulafter his rejection; and read by the light of the impendingexcommunication, the Nun's words could mean nothing but treason. Thespeaker herself was in correspondence with the pope; she had attested herdivine commission by miracles, and had been recognised as a saint by anArchbishop of Canterbury; the regular orders of the clergy throughout therealm were known to regard her as inspired; and when the commissionrecollected that the king was threatened further with dying "a villain'sdeath;" and that these and similar prophecies were carefully written out, and were in private circulation through the country, the matter assumed adangerous complexion: it became at once essential to ascertain how far, andamong what classes of the state, these things had penetrated. The FriarsMendicant were discovered to be in league with her, and these itinerantswere ready-made missionaries of sedition. They had privilege of vagrancywithout check or limit; and owing to their universal distribution and thefreemasonry among themselves, the secret disposition of every family inEngland was intimately known to them. No movement, therefore, could besecurely over-looked in which these orders had a share; the country mightbe undermined in secret; and the government might only learn their dangerat the moment of explosion. 

No sooner, therefore, were the commissioners in possession of the generalfacts, than the principal parties--that is to say, the Nun herself and fiveof the monks of Christ Church at Canterbury--with whom her intercourse wasmost constant, were sent to the Tower to be "examined"--the monks it islikely by "torture, " if they could not otherwise be brought to confession. The Nun was certainly not tortured. On her first arrest, she was obstinatein maintaining her prophetic character; and she was detected in sendingmessages to her friends, "to animate them to adhere to her and to herprophecies. "[645] But her courage ebbed away under the hard reality of herposition. She soon made a full confession, in which her accomplices joinedher; and the half-completed web of conspiracy was ravelled out. They didnot attempt to conceal that they had intended, if possible, to create aninsurrection. The five monks--Father Bocking, Father Rich, Father Rysby, Father Dering, and Father Goold--had assisted the Nun in inventing her"Revelations;" and as apostles, they had travelled about the country tocommunicate them in whatever quarters they were likely to be welcome. Whenwe remember that Archbishop Warham had been a dupe of this woman, and thateven Wolsey's experience and ability had not prevented him from believingin her power, we are not surprised to find high names among those who wereimplicated. Vast numbers of abbots and priors, and of regular and secularclergy, had listened eagerly; country gentlemen also, and London merchants. The Bishop of Rochester had "wept for joy" at the first utterances of theinspired prophetess; and Sir Thomas More, "who at first did little regardthe said revelations, afterwards did greatly rejoice to hear of them. "[646]We learn, also, that the Nun had continued to _communicate with "the LadyPrincess Dowager" and "the Lady Mary, her daughter. "_[647]

These were names which might have furnished cause for regret, but littlefor surprise or alarm. The commissioners must have found occasion for otherfeelings, however, when among the persons implicated were found theCountess of Salisbury and the Marchioness of Exeter, with their chaplains, households, and servants; Sir Thomas Arundel, Sir George Carew, and "manyof the nobles of England. "[648] A combination headed by the Countess ofSalisbury, if she were supported even by a small section of the nobility, would under any circumstances have been dangerous; and if such acombination was formed in support of an invasion, and was backed by theblessings of the pope and the fanaticism of the clergy, the result might beserious indeed. So careful a silence is observed in the official papers onthis feature of the Nun's conspiracy, that it is uncertain how far thecountess had committed herself; but she had listened certainly to avowalsof treasonable intentions without revealing them, which of itself was noslight evidence of disloyalty; and that the government were really alarmedmay be gathered from the simultaneous arrest of Sir William and Sir GeorgeNeville, the brothers of Lord Latimer. The connection and significance ofthese names I shall explain presently; in the meantime I return to thepreparations which had been made by the Nun. 

As the final judgment drew near--which, unless the king submitted, would beaccompanied, with excommunication, and a declaration that the Englishnation was absolved from allegiance, --"the said false Nun, " says thereport, "surmised herself to have made a petition to God to know, whenfearful war should come, whether any man should take my Lady Mary's part orno; and she feigned herself to have answer by revelation that no man shouldfear but that she should have succour and help enough; and that no manshould put her from her right that she was born unto. And petitioning nextto know when it was the pleasure of God that her revelations should be putforth to the world, she had answer that knowledge should be given to herghostly father when it should be time. "[649]

With this information Father Goold had hastened down to Bugden, encouragingCatherine to persevere in her resistance;[650] and while the imperialistsat Rome were pressing the pope for sentence (we cannot doubt at Catherine'sinstance), the Nun had placed herself in readiness to seize the opportunitywhen it offered, and to blow the trumpet of insurrection in the panic whichmight be surely looked for when that sentence should be published. 

For this purpose she had organised, with considerable skill, a corps offanatical friars, who, when the signal was given, were simultaneously tothrow themselves into the midst of the people, and call upon them to risein the name of God. "To the intent, " says the report, "to set forth thismatter, certain spiritual and religious persons were appointed, as they hadbeen chosen of God, to preach the false revelations of the said Nun, whenthe time should require, if warning were given them; and some of thesepreachers have confessed openly, and subscribed their names to theirconfessions, that if the Nun had so sent them word, they would havepreached to the king's subjects that the pleasure of God was that theyshould take him no longer for their king; and some of these preachers weresuch as gave themselves to great fasting, watching, long prayers, wearingof shirts of hair and great chains of iron about their middle, whereby thepeople had them in high estimation of their great holiness, --and thisstrait life they took on them by the counsel and exhortation of the saidNun. "[651]

Here, then, was the explanation of the attitude of Catherine and Mary. Smarting under injustice, and most naturally blending their private quarrelwith the cause of the church, they had listened to these disordered visionsas to a message from heaven, and they had lent themselves to the first ofthose religious conspiracies which held England in chronic agitation forthree quarters of a century. The innocent Saint at Bugden was theforerunner of the prisoner at Fotheringay; and the Observant friars, withtheir chain girdles and shirts of hair, were the antitypes of Parsons andCampion. How critical the situation of England really was, appears from thefollowing letter of the French ambassador. The project for the marriage ofthe Princess Mary with the Dauphin had been revived by the Catholic party;and a private arrangement, of which this marriage was to form theconnecting link, was contemplated between the Ultramontanes in France, thepope, and the emperor. 

_D'Inteville to Cardinal Tournon. _[652]

"MY LORD, --You will be so good as to tell the Most Christian king that theemperor's ambassador has communicated with the old queen. The emperor sendsa message to her and to her daughter, that he will not return to Spain tillhe has seen them restored to their rights. 

"The people are so much attached to the said ladies that they will rise inrebellion, and join any prince who will undertake their quarrel. Youprobably know from other quarters the intensity of this feeling. It isshared by all classes, high and low, and penetrates even into the royalhousehold. 

"The nation is in marvellous discontent. Every one but the relations of thepresent queen, is indignant on the ladies' account. Some fear the overthrowof religion; others fear war and injury to trade. Up to this time, thecloth, hides, wool, lead, and other merchandise of England have foundmarkets in Flanders, Spain, and Italy; now it is thought navigation will beso dangerous that English merchants must equip their ships for war if theytrade to foreign countries; and besides the risk of losing all to theenemy, the expense of the armament will swallow the profits of the voyage. In like manner, the emperor's subjects and the pope's subjects will not beable to trade with England. The coasts will be blockaded by the ships ofthe emperor and his allies; and at this moment men's fears are aggravatedby the unseasonable weather throughout the summer, and the failure of thecrops. There is not corn enough for half the ordinary consumption. 

"The common people, foreseeing these inconveniences, are so violent againstthe queen, that they say a thousand shameful things of her, and of all whohave supported her in her intrigues. On them is cast the odium of all thecalamities anticipated from the war. 

"When the war comes, no one doubts that the people will rebel as much fromfear of the dangers which I have mentioned, as from the love which is feltfor the two ladies, and especially for the Princess. She is so entirelybeloved that, notwithstanding the law made at the last Parliament, and themenace of death contained in it, they persist in regarding her as Princess. No Parliament, they say, can make her anything but the king's daughter, born in marriage; and so the king and every one else regarded her beforethat Parliament. 

"Lately, when she was removed from Greenwich, a vast crowd of women, wivesof citizens and others, walked before her at their husbands' desire, weeping and crying that notwithstanding all she was Princess. Some of themwere sent to the Tower, but they would not retract. 

"Things are now so critical, and the fear of war is so general, that manyof the greatest merchants in London have placed themselves in communicationwith the emperor's ambassador, telling him, that if the emperor willdeclare war, the English nation will join him for the love they bear theLady Mary. 

"You, my Lord, will remember that when you were here, it was said you werecome to tell the king that he was excommunicated, and to demand the hand ofthe Princess for the Dauphin. The people were so delighted that they havenever ceased to pray for you. We too, when we arrived in London, were toldthat the people were praying for us. They thought our embassy was to thePrincess. They imagined her marriage with the Dauphin had been determinedon by the two kings, and the satisfaction was intense and universal. 

"They believe that, except by this marriage, they cannot possibly escapewar; whereas, can it be brought about, they will have peace with theemperor and all other Christian princes. They are now so disturbed and sodesperate that, although at one time they would have preferred a husbandfor her from among themselves, that they might not have a foreign king, there now is nothing which they desire more. Unless the Dauphin will takeher, they say she will continue disinherited; or, if she come to herrights, it can only be by battle, to the great incommodity of the country. The Princess herself says publicly that the Dauphin is her husband, andthat she has no hope but in him. I have been told this by persons who haveheard it from her own lips. 

"The emperor's ambassador inquired, after you came, whether we had seenher. He said he knew she was most anxious to speak with us; she thought wehad permission to visit her, and she looked for good news. He told us, among other things, that she had been more strictly guarded of late, by theorders of the queen that now is, who, knowing her feeling for the Dauphin, feared there might be some practice with her, or some attempt to carry heroff. 

"The Princess's ladies say that she calls herself the Dauphin's wife. Atime will come, she says, when God will see that she has suffered pain andtribulation sufficient; the Dauphin will then demand her of the king herfather, and the king her father will not be able to refuse. 

"The lady who was my informant heard, also, from the Princess, that hergoverness, and the other attendants whom the queen had set to watch her, had assured her that the Dauphin was married to the daughter of theemperor; but she, the Princess, had answered it was not true--the Dauphincould not have two wives, and they well knew that she was his wife: theytold her that story, she said, to make her despair, and agree to give upher rights; but she would never part with her hopes. 

"You may have heard of the storm that broke out between her and hergoverness when we went to visit her little sister. She was carried off byforce to her room, that she might not speak with us; and they could neitherpacify her nor keep her still, till the gentleman who escorted us told herhe had the king's commands that she was not to show herself while we werein the house. You remember the message the same gentleman brought to youfrom her, and the charge which was given by the queen. 

"Could the king be brought to consent to the marriage, it could be a fairunion of two realms, and to annex Britain to the crown of France would be agreat honour to our Sovereign; the English party desire nothing better; thepope will be glad of it; the pope fears that, if war break out again, France will draw closer to England on the terms which the King of Englanddesires; and he may thus lose the French tribute as he has lost theEnglish. He therefore will urge the emperor to agree, and the emperor willassist gladly for the love which he bears to his cousin. 

"If the emperor be willing, the King of England can then be informed; andhe can be made to feel that, if he will avoid war, he must not refuse hisconsent. The king, in fact, has no wish to disown the Princess, and heknows well that the marriage with the Dauphin was once agreed on. 

"Should he be unwilling, and should his wife's persuasions stil haveinfluence with him, he will hesitate before he will defy, for her sake, theKing of France and the emperor united. His regard for the queen is lessthan it was, and diminishes every day. He has a new fancy, [653] as you areaware. "

The actual conspiracy, in the form which it had so far assumed, was ratheran appeal to fanaticism than a plot which could have laid hold of thedeeper mind of the country; but as an indication of the unrest which wasstealing over the minds of men, it assumed an importance which it would nothave received from its intrinsic character. 

The guilt of the principal offenders admitted of no doubt. As soon as thecommissioners were satisfied that there was nothing further to bediscovered, the Nun, with the monks, was brought to trial before the StarChamber; and conviction followed as a matter of course. [654]

The unhappy girl finding herself at this conclusion, after seven years ofvanity, in which she had played with popes, and queens, and princesses, andarchbishops, now, when the dream was thus rudely broken, in the revulsionof feeling could see nothing in herself but a convicted impostor. We neednot refuse to pity her. The misfortunes of her sickness had exposed her totemptations far beyond the strength of an ordinary woman: and the guiltwhich she passionately claimed for herself rested far more truly with theknavery of the Christ Church monks and the incredible folly of ArchbishopWarham. [655] But the times were too stern to admit of nice distinctions. Noimmediate sentence was pronounced, but it was thought desirable for thesatisfaction of the people that a confession should be made in public bythe Nun and her companions. The Sunday following their trial they wereplaced on a raised platform at Paul's Cross by the side of the pulpit, andwhen the sermon was over they one by one delivered their "bills" to thepreacher, which by him were read to the crowd. [656]

After an acknowledgment of their imposture the prisoners were remanded tothe Tower, and their ultimate fate reserved for the consideration ofparliament, which was to meet in the middle of January. 

The chief offenders being thus disposed of, the council resolved next thatperemptory measures should be taken with respect to the Princess Mary. [657]Her establishment was broken up, and she was sent to reside as the LadyMary in the household of the Princess Elizabeth--a hard but not unwholesomediscipline. [658] As soon as this was done, being satisfied that the leadingshoot of the conspiracy was broken, and that no immediate danger was now tobe feared, they proceeded leisurely to follow the clue of the Nun'sconfession, and to extend their inquiries. The Countess of Salisbury wasmentioned as one of the persons with whom the woman had been incorrespondence. This lady was the daughter of the Duke of Clarence, brotherof Edward IV. Her mother was a Neville, a child of Richard the Kingmaker, the famous Earl of Warwick, and her only brother had been murdered tosecure the shaking throne of Henry VII. Margaret Plantagenet, in recompensefor the lost honours of the house, was made Countess of Salisbury in herown right. The title descended from her grandfather, who was Earl ofSalisbury and Warwick; but the prouder title had been dropped as suggestiveof dangerous associations. The Earldom of Warwick remained in abeyance, andthe castle and the estates attached to it were forfeited to the Crown. Thecountess was married after her brother's death to a Sir Richard Pole, asupporter and relation[659] of the king; and when left a widow she receivedfrom Henry VIII. The respectful honour which was due to the most nobly bornof his subjects, the only remaining Plantagenet of unblemished descent. Inhis kindness to her children the king had attempted to obliterate therecollection of her brother's wrongs, and she had been herself selected topreside over the household of the Princess Mary. During the first twentyyears of Henry's reign the countess seems to have acknowledged hisattentions with loyal regard, and if she had not forgotten her birth andher childhood, she never connected herself with the attempts which duringthat time were made to revive the feuds of the houses. Richard de la Pole, nephew of Edward IV. , [660] and called while he lived "the White Rose, " hadmore than once endeavoured to excite an insurrection in the easterncounties; but Lady Salisbury was never suspected of holding intercoursewith him; she remained aloof from political disputes, and in loftyretirement she was contented to forget her greatness for the sake of thePrincess Mary, to whom she and her family were deeply attached. Herrelations with the king had thus continued undisturbed until his secondmarriage. As the representative of the House of York she was the object ofthe hopes and affections of the remnants of their party, but she hadbetrayed no disposition to abuse her influence, or to disturb the quiet ofthe nation for personal ambition of her own. 

If it be lawful to interpret symptoms in themselves trifling by the lightof later events, it would seem as if her attitude now underwent a materialchange. Her son Reginald had already quarrelled with the king upon thedivorce. He was in suspicious connection with the pope, and having beenrequired to return home upon his allegiance, had refused obedience. Hismother, and his mother's attached friend, the Marchioness of Exeter, we nowfind among those to whom the Nun of Kent communicated her prophecies andher plans. It does not seem that the countess thought at any time ofreviving her own pretensions; it does seem that she was ready to build athrone for the Princess Mary out of the ruined supporters of her father'sfamily. The power which she could wield might at any moment becomeformidable. She had two sons in England, Lord Montague and Sir GeoffreyPole. Her cousin, the Marquis of Exeter, a grandson himself of EdwardIV. , [661] was, with the exception of the Duke of Norfolk, the most powerfulnobleman in the realm; and he, to judge by events, was beginning to lookcoldly on the king. [662] We find her surrounded also by the representativesof her mother's family--Lord Abergavenny, who had been under suspicion whenthe Duke of Buckingham was executed, Sir Edward Neville, afterwardsexecuted, Lord Latimer, Sir George and Sir William Neville, all of themwere her near connections, all collateral heirs of the King-maker, inheriting the pride of their birth, and resentfully conscious of theirfallen fortunes. The support of a party so composed would have addedformidable strength to the preaching friars of the Nun of Kent; and as Icannot doubt that the Nun was endeavouring to press her intrigues in aquarter where disaffection if created would be most dangerous, so the ladywho ruled this party with a patriarchal authority had listened to hersuggestions; and the repeated interviews with her which were sought by theMarchioness of Exeter were rendered more than suspicious by the secresywith which these interviews were conducted. [663]

These circumstances explain the arrest, to which I alluded above, of SirWilliam and Sir George Neville, brothers of Lord Latimer. They were notamong "the many noblemen" to whom the commissioners referred; for theirconfessions remain, and contain no allusion to the Nun; but they wereexamined at this particular time on general suspicion; and the arrest, under such circumstances, of two near relatives of Lady Salisbury, indicates clearly an alarm in the council, lest she might be contemplatingsome serious movements. At any rate, either on her account or on their own, the Nevilles fell under suspicion, and while they had no crimes to reveal, their depositions, especially that of Sir William Neville, furnish singularevidence of the temper of the times. 

The confession of the latter begins with an account of the loss of certainsilver spoons, for the recovery of which Sir William sent to a wizard whoresided in Cirencester. The wizard took the opportunity of telling SirWilliam's fortune: his wife was to die, and he himself was to marry anheiress, and be made a baron; with other prospective splendours. The wizardconcluded, however, with recommending him to pay a visit to another dealerin the dark art more learned than himself, whose name was Jones, at Oxford. 

"So after that, " said Sir William [Midsummer, 1532], "I went to Oxford, intending that my brother George and I should kill a buck with Sir SimonHarcourt, which he had promised me; and there at Oxford, in the saidJones's chamber, I did see certain stillatories, alembics, and otherinstruments of glass, and also a sceptre and other things, which he saiddid appertain to the conjuration of the four kings; and also an image ofwhite metal; and in a box, a serpent's skin, as he said, and divers booksand things, whereof one was a book which he said was my Lord Cardinal's, having pictures in it like angels. He told me he could make rings of gold, to obtain favour of great men; and said that my Lord Cardinal had such; andpromised my said brother and me, either of us, one of them; and also heshowed me a round thing like a ball of crystal. 

"He said that if the King's Grace went over to France [the Calais visit ofOctober, 1532], his Grace should marry my Lady Marchioness of Pembrokebefore that his Highness returned again; and that it would be dangerous tohis Grace, and to the most part of the noblemen that should go with him;saying also that he had written to one of the king's council to advise hisHighness not to go over, for if he did, it should not be for his Grace'sprofit. "

The wizard next pretended that he had seen a vision of a certain room in atower, in which a spirit had appeared with a coat of arms in his hand, andhad "delivered the same to Sir William Neville. " The arms being describedas those of the Warwick family, Sir William, his brother, and Jones rodedown from Oxford to Warwick, where they went over the castle. The wizardprofessed to recognise in a turret chamber the room in which he had seenthe spirit, and he prophesied that Sir William should recover the earldom, the long-coveted prize of all the Neville family. 

On their return to Oxford, Jones, continues Sir William, said further, "That there should be a field in the north about a se'n-night beforeChristmas, in which my Lord my brother [Lord Latimer] should be slain; therealm should be long without a king; and much robbery would be within therealm, specially of abbeys and religious houses, and of rich men, asmerchants, graziers, and others; so that, if I would, he at that time wouldadvise me to find the means to enter into the said castle for mine ownsafeguard, and divers persons would resort unto me. _None of Cadwallader'sblood_, he told me, _should reign more than twenty-four years;_ and alsothat Prince Edward [son of Henry VI. And Margaret of Anjou, killed atTewkesbury], had issue a son which was conveyed over sea; and there hadissue a son which was yet alive, either in Saxony or Almayne; and thateither he or the King of Scots should reign next after the King's Gracethat now is. To all which I answered, " Sir William concluded, "that thereis nothing which the will of God is that a man shall obtain, but that he ofhis goodness will put in his mind the way whereby he shall come by it; andthat surely I had no mind to follow any such fashion; and that, also, thelate Duke of Buckingham and others had cast themselves away by too muchtrust in prophecies, and other jeoparding of themselves, and therefore Iwould in no wise follow any such way. He answered, if I would not, it wouldbe long ere I obtained it. Then I said I believed that well, and if itnever came, I trusted to God to live well enough. "[664]

Sir George Neville confirmed generally his brother's story, protesting thatthey had never intended treason, and that "at no time had he been ofcounsel" when any treason was thought of. [665]

The wizard himself was next sent for. The prophecies about the king hedenied wholly. He admitted that he had seen an angel in a dream giving SirWilliam Neville the shield of the earldom in Warwick Castle, and that hehad accompanied the two brothers to Warwick, to examine the tower. Beyondthat, he said that he knew nothing either of them or of their intentions. He declared himself a good subject, and he would "jeopard his life" to makethe philosopher's stone for the king in twelve months if the king pleasedto command him. He desired "no longer space than twelve months upon silverand twelve and a half upon gold;" to be kept in prison till he had done it;and it would be "better to the King's Grace than a thousand men. "[666]

The result of these examinations does not appear, except it be that theNevilles were dismissed without punishment; and the story itself may bethought too trifling to have deserved a grave notice. I see in it, however, an illustration very noticeworthy of the temper which was working in thecountry. The suspicion of treason in the Neville family may not have beenconfirmed, although we see them casting longing looks on the lostinheritance of Warwick; but their confessions betray the visions ofimpending change, anarchy, and confusion, which were haunting the popularimagination. A craving after prophecies, a restless eagerness to searchinto the future by abnormal means, had infected all ranks from the highestto the lowest; and such symptoms, when they appear, are a sure evidence ofapproaching disorder, for they are an evidence of a present madness whichhas brought down wisdom to a common level with folly. At such times, theidlest fancy is more potent with the mind than the soundest arguments ofreason. The understanding abdicates its functions; and men are given over, as if by magic, to the enchantments of insanity. 

Phenomena of this eccentric kind always accompany periods of intellectualchange. Most men live and think by habit; and when habit fails them, theyare like unskilful sailors who have lost the landmarks of their course, andhave no compass and no celestial charts by which to steer. In the yearswhich preceded the French Revolution, Cagliostro was the companion ofprinces--at the dissolution of paganism the practicers of curious arts, thewatches and the necromancers, were the sole objects of reverence in theRoman world;--and so, before the Reformation, archbishops and cardinals sawan inspired prophetess in a Kentish servant girl; Oxford heads of collegessought out heretics with the help of astrology; Anne Boleyn blessed a basinof rings, her royal fingers pouring such virtue into the metal that nodisorder could resist it;[667] Wolsey had a magic crystal; and Cromwell, while in Wolsey's household, "did haunt to the company of a wizard. "[668]These things were the counterpart of a religion which taught that slips ofpaper, duly paid for, could secure indemnity for sin. It was well forEngland that the chief captain at least was proof against the epidemic--norandom scandal seems ever to have whispered that such delusions had touchedthe mind of the king. [669]

While the government were prosecuting these inquiries at home, the law atthe Vatican had run its course; November passed, and as no submission hadarrived, the sentence of the 12th of July came into force, and the king, the queen, and the Archbishop of Canterbury were declared to have incurredthe threatened censures. 

The privy council met on the 2nd of December, and it was determined inconsequence that copies of the "Act of Appeals, " and of the king's"provocation" to a general council, should be fixed without delay on everychurch door in England. Protests were at the same time to be drawn up andsent into Flanders, and to the other courts in Europe, "to the intent thefalsehood and injustice of the Bishop of Rome might appear to all theworld. " The defences of the country were to be looked to; and "spies" to besent into Scotland to see "what they intended there, " "and whether theywould confeder themselves with any outward princes. " Finally, it wasproposed that the attempt to form an alliance with the Lutheran powersshould be renewed on a larger scale; that certain discreet and gravepersons should be appointed to conclude "some league or amity with theprinces of Germany"--"that is to say, the King of Poland, the King ofHungary, [670] the Duke of Saxony, the Duke of Bavaria, the Duke ofBrandenburg, the Landgrave of Hesse, and other potentates. "[671] Vaughan'smission had been merely tentative, and had failed. Yet the offer of aleague, offensive and defensive, the immediate and avowed object of whichwas a general council at which the Protestants should be represented, mighteasily succeed where vague offers of amity had come to nothing. Theformation of a Protestant alliance, however, would have been equivalent toa declaration of war against Catholic Europe; and it was a step which couldnot be taken, consistently with the Treaty of Calais, --without firstcommunicating with Francis. 

Henry, therefore, by the advice of the council, wrote a despatch to SirJohn Wallop, the ambassador at Paris, which was to be laid before theFrench court. He explained the circumstances in which he was placed, withthe suggestion which the council had made to him. He gave a list of theprinces with whom he had been desired by his ministers to connecthimself--and the object was nothing less than a coalition of NorthernEurope. He recapitulated the injuries which he had received from the pope, who at length was studying "to subvert the rest and peace of the realm;""yea, and so much as in him was, utterly to destroy the same. " The noblesand council, he said, for their own sake as well as for the sake of thekingdom, had entreated him to put an end, once for all, to the pope'susurpation; and to invite the Protestant princes, for the universal weal ofChristendom, to unite in a common alliance. In his present situation he wasinclined to act upon this advice. "As concerning his own realm, he hadalready taken such order with his nobles and subjects, as he would shortlybe able to give to the pope such a buffet as he never had heretofore;" butas a German alliance was a matter of great weight and importance, "although, " he concluded, "we consider it to be right expedient to setforth the same with all diligence, yet we intend nothing to do thereinwithout making our good brother first privy thereunto. And for this causeand consideration only, you may say that we have at this time addressedthese letters unto you, commanding you to declare our said purpose unto ourgood brother, and to require of him on our behalf his good address and bestadvice. Of his answer we require you to advertise us with all diligence, for according thereunto we intend to attemper our proceedings. We havelately had advertisements how that our said good brother should, by thelabour of divers affectionate Papists, be minded to set forth somethingwith his clergy in advancement of the pope and his desires. This we cannotbelieve that he will do. "[672]

The meaning of this letter lies upon the surface. If the European powerswere determined to leave him no alternative, the king was prepared to allyhimself with the Lutherans. But however he might profess to desire thatalliance, it was evident that he would prefer, if possible, a less extremeresource. The pope had ceased to be an object of concern to him; but hecould not contemplate, without extreme unwillingness, a separation from theorderly governments who professed the Catholic faith. The pope had injuredhim; Francis had deceived him; they had tempted his patience because theyknew his disposition. The limit of endurance had been reached at length;yet, on the verge of the concluding rupture, he turned once more, as if tooffer a last opportunity of peace. 

The reply of Francis was an immediate mission of the Bishop of Bayonne (nowBishop of Paris), first into England, and from England to Rome, where hewas to endeavour, to the best of his ability, to seam together the alreadygaping rent in the church with fair words--a hopeless task--the results ofwhich, however, were unexpectedly considerable, as will be presently seen. 

Meanwhile, on the side of Flanders, the atmosphere was dubious andmenacing. The refugee friars, who were reported to be well supplied withmoney from England, were labouring to exasperate the people, Father Petoespecially distinguishing himself upon this service. [673] The Englishambassador, Sir John Hacket, still remained at Brussels, and the twogovernments were formally at peace; but when Hacket required thequeen-regent to forbid the publication of the brief of July in theNetherlands, he was met with a positive refusal. "M. Ambassador, " she said, "the Emperor, the King of Hungary, the Queen of France, the King ofPortugal, and I, understand what are the rights of our aunt--our duty is toher--and such letters of the pope as come hither in her favour we shallobey. Your master has no right to complain either of the emperor or ofmyself, if we support our aunt in a just cause. "[674] At the same time, formal complaints were made by Charles of the personal treatment of QueenCatherine, and the clouds appeared to be gathering for a storm. Yet here, too, there was an evident shrinking from extremities. A Welsh gentleman hadbeen at Brussels to offer his services against Henry, and had met withapparent coldness. Sir John Hacket wrote, on the 15th of December, that hewas assured by well-informed persons, that so long as Charles lived, hewould never be the first to begin a war with England, "which would reboundto the destruction of the Low Countries. "[675] A week later, when thequeen-regent was suffering from an alarming illness, he said it wasreported that, should she die, Catherine or Mary, if either of them wasallowed to leave England, would be held "meet to have governance of the LowCountries. "[676] This was a generous step, if the emperor seriouslycontemplated it. The failure of the Nun of Kent had perhaps taught him thatthere was no present prospect of a successful insurrection. In his conducttowards England, he was seemingly governing himself by the prospect whichmight open for a successful attack upon it. If occasion offered to strikethe government in connection with an efficient Catholic party in the nationitself, he would not fail to avail himself of it. [677] Otherwise, he wouldperhaps content himself with an attitude of inactive menace; unless menacedhimself by a Protestant confederation. 

Amidst these uneasy symptoms at home and abroad, parliament re-assembled onthe 15th of January. It was a changed England since these men first cametogether on the fall of Wolsey. Session after session had been spent inclipping the roots of the old tree which had overshadowed them forcenturies. On their present meeting they were to finish their work, and layit prostrate for ever. Negotiations were still pending with the See ofRome, and this momentous session had closed before the final catastrophe. The measures which were passed in the course of it are not, therefore, tobe looked upon as adopted hastily, in a spirit of retaliation, but as theconsistent accomplishment of a course which had been deliberately adopted, to reverse the positions of the civil and spiritual authority within therealm, and to withdraw the realm itself from all dependence on a foreignpower. 

The Annates and Firstfruits' Bill had not yet received the royal assent;but the pope had refused to grant the bulls for bishops recently appointed, and he was no longer to receive payment for services which he refused torender. Peter's pence were still paid, and might continue to be paid, ifthe pope would recollect himself; but, like the Sibyl of Cuma, Henrydestroyed some fresh privilege with each delay of justice, demanding thesame price for the preservation of what remained. The secondary streams oftribute now only remained to the Roman See; and communion with the Englishchurch, which it was for Clement to accept or refuse. 

The circumstances under which the session opened were, however, grave andsaddening. Simultaneously with the concluding legislation on the church, the succession to the throne was to be determined in terms which might, perhaps, be accepted as a declaration of war by the emperor; and the affairof the Nun of Kent had rendered necessary an inquiry into the conduct ofhonoured members of the two Houses, who were lying under the shadow of hightreason. The conditions were for the first time to be plainly seen underwhich the Reformation was to fight its way. The road which lay before itwas beset not merely with external obstacles, which a strong will and astrong hand could crush, but with the phantoms of dying faiths, whichhaunted the hearts of all living men; the superstitions, the prejudices, the hopes, the fears, the passions, which swayed stormily and fitfullythrough the minds of every actor in the great drama. 

The uniformity of action in the parliament of 1529, during the seven yearswhich it continued, is due to the one man who saw his way distinctly, Thomas Cromwell. The nation was substantially united in the divorcequestion, could the divorce be secured without a rupture with the Europeanpowers. It was united also on the necessity of limiting the jurisdiction ofthe clergy, and cutting short the powers of the consistory courts. But inquestions of "opinion" there was the most sensitive jealousy; and from thecombined instincts of prejudice and conservatism, the majority of thecountry in a count of heads would undoubtedly have been against aseparation from Rome. 

The clergy professed to approve the acts of the government, but it was forthe most part with the unwilling acquiescence of men who were withoutcourage to refuse. The king was divided against himself. Nine days in tenhe was the clear-headed, energetic, powerful statesman; on the tenth he waslooking wistfully to the superstition which he had left, and the clearsunshine was darkened with theological clouds, which broke in lightning andpersecution. Thus there was danger at any moment of a reaction, unlessopportunity was taken at the flood, unless the work was executed toocompletely to admit of reconsideration, and the nation committed to acourse from which it was impossible to recede. The action of theconservatives was paralysed for the time by the want of a fixed purpose. The various parts of the movement were so skilfully linked together, thatpartial opposition to it was impossible; and so long as the people had tochoose between the pope and the king, their loyalty would not allow them tohesitate. But very few men actively adhered to Cromwell. Cromwell hadstruck the line on which the forces of nature were truly moving--theresultant, not of the victory of either of the extreme parties, but of thejoint action of their opposing forces. To him belonged the rare privilegeof genius, to see what other men could not see; and therefore he wascondemned to rule a generation which hated him, to do the will of God, andto perish in his success. He had no party. By the nobles he was regardedwith the same mixed contempt and fear which had been felt for Wolsey. TheProtestants, perhaps, knew what he was, but he could only purchase theirtoleration by himself checking their extravagance. Latimer was the onlyperson of real power on whose friendship he could calculate, and Latimerwas too plain spoken on dangerous questions to be useful as a politicalsupporter. 

The session commenced on the 15th of January. 

The first step was to receive the final submission of convocation. Theundignified resistance was at last over, and the clergy had promised toabstain for the future from unlicensed legislation. To secure theiradherence to their engagements, an act[678] was passed to make the breachof that engagement penal; and a commission of thirty-two persons, half ofwhom were to be laymen, was designed for the revision of the Canonlaw. [679]

The next most important movement was to assimilate the trials for heresywith the trials for other criminal offences. I have already explained atlength the manner in which the bishops abused their judicial powers. Thesepowers were not absolutely taken away, but ecclesiastics were no longerpermitted to arrest _ex officio_ and examine at their pleasure. Where acharge of heresy was to be brought against a man, presentments were to bemade by lawful witnesses before justices of the peace; and then, and nototherwise, he might fall under the authority of the "ordinary. " Secretexaminations were declared illegal. The offender was to be tried in opencourt, and, previous to his trial, had a right to be admitted to bail, unless the bishop could show cause to the contrary to the satisfaction oftwo magistrates. [680]

This was but a slight instalment of lenity; but it was an indication of theturning tide. Limited as it was, the act operated as an effective checkupon persecution till the passing of the Six Articles Bill. 

Turning next to the relations between England and Rome, the parliamentreviewed the Annates Act, [681] which had been left unratified in the hopethat the pope might have consented to a compromise, and that "by somegentle ways the said exaction might have been redressed and reformed. " Theexpectation had been disappointed. The pope had not condescended to replyto the communication which had been made to him, and the act had inconsequence received the royal assent. An alteration had thus becomenecessary in the manner of presentation to vacant bishoprics. The anomaliesof the existing practice have been already described. By the Great Charterthe chapters had acquired the right of free election. A _congé d'élire_ wasgranted by the king on the occurrence of a vacancy, with no attempt at anomination. The chapters were supposed to make their choice freely, and thename of the bishop-elect was forwarded to the pope, who returned thePallium and the Bulls, receiving the Annates in exchange. The pope's partin the matter was now terminated. No Annates would be sent any longer toRome, and no Bulls would be returned from Rome. The appointments laybetween the chapters and the crown; and it might have seemed, at firstsight, as if it would have been sufficient to omit the reference to thepapacy, and as if the remaining forms might continue as they were. Thechapters, however, had virtually long ceased to elect freely; the crown hadabsorbed the entire functions of presentation, sometimes appointingforeigners, [682] sometimes allowing the great ecclesiastical ministers tonominate themselves;[683] while the rights of the chapters, though existingin theory, were not officially recognised either by the pope or by thecrown. The king affected to accept the names of the prelates-elect, whenreturned to him from Rome, as nominations by the pope; and the pope, incommunicating with the chapters, presented them with their bishops as fromhimself. [684] The papal share in the matter was a shadow, but it wasacknowledged under the forms of courtesy; the share of the chapters waswholly and absolutely ignored. The crisis of a revolution was not themoment at which their legal privileges could be safely restored to them. The problem of re-arrangement was a difficult one, and it was met in amanner peculiarly English. The practice of granting the _congé d'élire_ tothe chapters on the occurrence of a vacancy, which had fallen intodesuetude, was again adopted, and the church resumed the forms of liberty:but the licence to elect a bishop was to be accompanied with the name ofthe person whom the chapter was required to elect; and if within twelvedays the person so named had not been chosen, the nomination of the crownwas to become absolute, and the chapter would incur a Premunire. [685]

This act, which I conceive to have been more arbitrary in form than inintention, was followed by a closing attack upon the remaining "exactions"of the Bishop of Rome. The Annates were gone. There were yet to go, "Pensions, Censes, Peter's Pence, Procurations, Fruits, Suits forProvision, Delegacies and Rescripts in causes of Contention and Appeals, Jurisdictions legatine--also Dispensations, Licenses, Faculties, Grants, Relaxations, Writs called Perinde valere, Rehabilitations, Abolitions, "with other unnamed (the parliament being wearied of naming them) "infinitesorts of Rules, Briefs, and instruments of sundry natures, names, andkinds. " All these were perennially open sluices, which had drained Englandof its wealth for centuries, returning only in showers of paper, and theCommons were determined that streams so unremunerative should flow nolonger. They conceived that they had been all along imposed upon, and thatthe "Bishop of Rome was to be blamed for having allured and beguiled theEnglish nation, persuading them that he had power to dispense with humanlaws, uses, and customs, contrary to right and conscience. " If the king sopleased, therefore, they would not be so beguiled any more. These and allsimilar exactions should cease; and all powers claimed by the Bishop ofRome within the realm should cease, and should be transferred to the crown. At the same time they would not press upon the pope too hardly; they wouldrepeat the same conditions which they had offered with the Annates. He hadreceived these revenues as the supreme judge in the highest court inEurope, and he might retain his revenues or receive compensation for them, if he dared to be just. It was for himself to resolve, and three monthswere allowed for a final decision. 

In conclusion, the Commons thought it well to assert that they wereseparating, not from the church of Christ, but only from the papacy. Ajudge who allowed himself to be overawed against his conscience by asecular power, could not any longer be recognised; but no thing or thingscontained in the act should be afterwards "interpreted or expounded, thathis Grace (the king), his nobles and subjects, intended by the same todecline or vary from the congregation of Christ's church in anythingconcerning the articles of the Catholic faith of Christendom, or in anyother things declared by the Holy Scripture and the Word of God necessaryfor salvation; but only to make an ordinance, by policies necessary andconvenient, to repress vice, and for the good conservation of the realm inpeace, unity, and tranquillity, from ravin and spoil--ensuing much the oldantient customs of the realm in that behalf. "[686]

The most arduous business was thus finished--the most painful remained. TheNun of Kent and her accomplices were to be proceeded against by act ofparliament; and the bill of their attainder was presented for the firsttime in the House of Lords, on the 18th of February. The offence of theprincipal conspirators was plainly high treason; their own confessionsremoved uncertainty; the guilt was clear--the sentence was inevitable. Butthe fault of those who had been listeners only was less easy ofmeasurement, and might vary from comparative innocence to a definite breachof allegiance. 

The government were unwilling to press with severity on the noble lords andladies whose names had been unexpectedly brought to light; and there weretwo men of high rank only, whose complicity it was thought necessary tonotice. The Bishop of Rochester's connection with the Nun had been culpablyencouraging; and the responsibility of Sir Thomas More was held also to bevery great in having countenanced, however lightly, such perilous schemers. 

In the bill, therefore, as it was first read, More and Fisher foundthemselves declared guilty of misprision of treason. But the object of thismeasure was rather to warn than to punish, nor was there any real intentionof continuing their prosecution. Cromwell, under instructions from theking, had communicated privately with both of them. He had sent a messageto Fisher through his brother, telling him that he had only to ask forforgiveness to receive it;[687] and he had begged More through hisson-in-law, Mr. Roper, to furnish him with an explicit account of what hadpassed at any time between himself and the Nun, [688] with an intimationthat, if honestly made, it would be accepted in his favour. 

These advances were met by More in the spirit in which they were offered. He heartily thanked Cromwell, "reckoning himself right deeply beholden tohim;"[689] and replied with a long, minute, and evidently veracious story, detailing an interview which he had held with the woman in the chapel ofSion Monastery. He sent at the same time a copy of a letter which he hadwritten to her, and described various conversations with the friars whowere concerned in the forgery. He did not deny that he had believed the Nunto have been inspired, or that he had heard of the language which she wasin the habit of using respecting the king. He protested, however, that hehad himself never entertained a treasonable thought. He told Cromwell that"he had done a very meritorious deed in bringing forth to light suchdetestable hypocrisy, whereby every other wretch might take warning, and befeared to set forth their devilish dissembled falsehoods under the mannerand colour of the wonderful work of God. "[690] More's offence had not beengreat. His acknowledgments were open and unreserved; and Cromwell laid hisletter before the king, adding his own intercession that the matter mightbe passed over. Henry consented, expressing only his grief and concern thatSir Thomas More should have acted so unwisely. [691] He required, nevertheless, as Cromwell suggested, that a formal letter should bewritten, with a confession of fault, and a request for forgiveness. Moreobeyed; he wrote, gracefully reminding the king of a promise when heresigned the chancellorship, that in any suit which he might afterwardshave to his Grace, either touching his honour or his profit, he should findhis Highness his good and gracious lord. [692] Henry acknowledged his claim;his name was struck out of the bill, and the prosecution against him wasdropped. 

Fisher's conduct was very different; his fault had been far greater thanMore's, and promises more explicit had been held out to him of forgiveness. He replied to these promises by an elaborate and ridiculous defence--notwriting to the king, as Cromwell desired him, but vindicating himself ashaving committed no fault; although he had listened eagerly to languagewhich was only pardonable on the assumption that it was inspired, and hadencouraged a nest of fanatics by his childish credulity. The Nun "hadshowed him not, " he said, "that any prince or temporal lord should put theking in danger of his crown. " He knew nothing of the intended insurrection. He believed the woman to have been a saint; he supposed that she hadherself told the king all which she had told to him; and therefore he saidthat he had nothing for which to reproach himself. [693] He was unable tosee that the exposure of the imposture had imparted a fresh character tohis conduct, which he was bound to regret. Knowingly or unknowingly, he hadlent his countenance to a conspiracy; and so long as he refused toacknowledge his indiscretion, the government necessarily would interprethis actions in the manner least to his advantage. 

If he desired that his conduct should be forgotten, it was indispensablethat he should change his attitude, and so Cromwell warned him. "Yedesire, " the latter wrote, "for the passion of Christ, that ye be no morequickened in this matter; for if ye be put to that strait ye will not loseyour soul, but ye will speak as your conscience leadeth you; with many morewords of great courage. My Lord, if ye had taken my counsel sent unto youby your brother, and followed the same, submitting yourself by your letterto the King's Grace for your offences in this behalf, I would have trustedthat ye should never be quickened in the matter more. But now where ye takeupon you to defy the whole matter as ye were in no default, I cannot so farpromise you. Wherefore, my Lord, I would eftsoons advise you that, layingapart all such excuses as ye have alleged in your letters, which in myopinion be of small effect, ye beseech the King's Grace to be your graciouslord and to remit unto you your negligence, oversight, and offencecommitted against his Highness in this behalf; and I dare undertake thathis Highness shall benignly accept you into his gracious favour, all matterof displeasure past afore this time forgotten and forgiven. "[694]

Fisher must have been a hopelessly impracticable person. Instead offollowing More's example, and accepting well-meant advice, he persisted inthe same tone, and drew up an address to the House of Lords, in which herepeated the defence which he had made to Cromwell. He expressed no sorrowthat he had been engaged in a criminal intrigue, no pleasure that theintrigue had been discovered; and he doggedly adhered to his assertions ofhis own innocence. [695]

There was nothing to be done except to proceed with his attainder. The billpassed three readings, and the various prisoners were summoned to the StarChamber to be heard in arrest of judgment. The Bishop of Rochester'sattendance was dispensed with on the ground of illness, and because he hadmade his defence in writing. [696] Nothing of consequence was urged byeither of the accused. The bill was most explicit in its details, goingcarefully through the history of the imposture, and dwelling on theseparate acts of each offender. They were able to disprove no one of itsclauses, and on the 12th of March it was read a last time. On the 21st itreceived the royal assent, and there remained only to execute the sentence. The Nun herself, Richard Masters, and the five friars being found guilty ofhigh treason, were to die; the Bishop of Rochester, Father Abel, QueenCatherine's confessor, and four more, were sentenced for misprision oftreason to forfeiture of goods and imprisonment. All other personsimplicated whose names did not appear, were declared pardoned at theintercession of Queen Anne. [697]

The chief offenders suffered at Tyburn on the 21st of April, meeting deathcalmly, as it appears; receiving a fate most necessary and mostdeserved, [698] yet claiming from us that partial respect which is due toall persons who will risk their lives in an unselfish cause. For the Nunherself, we may feel even a less qualified regret. Before her death she waspermitted to speak a few words to the people, which at the distance ofthree centuries will not be read without emotion. 

"Hither am I come to die, " she said, "and I have not been the only cause ofmine own death, which most justly I have deserved; but also I am the causeof the death of all these persons which at this time here suffer. And yet Iam not so much to be blamed, considering that it was well known unto theselearned men that I was a poor wench without learning; and therefore theymight have easily perceived that the things which were done by me could notproceed in no such sort; but their capacities and learning could right welljudge that they were altogether feigned. But because the things which Ifeigned were profitable unto them, therefore they much praised me, and bareme in hand that it was the Holy Ghost and not I that did them. And I beingpuffed up with their praises, fell into a pride and foolish fantasye withmyself, and thought I might feign what I would, which thing hath brought meto this case, and for the which I now cry God and the King's Highness mostheartily mercy, and desire all you good people to pray to God to have mercyon me, and on all them that here suffer with me. "[699]

And now the closing seal was to be affixed to the agitation of the greatquestion of the preceding years. I have said that throughout these yearsthe uncertainty of the succession had been the continual anxiety of thenation. The birth of a prince or princess could alone provide an absolutesecurity; and to beget a prince appeared to be the single feat which Henrywas unable to accomplish. The marriage so dearly bought had been followedas yet only by a girl; and if the king were to die, leaving two daughterscircumstanced as Mary and Elizabeth were circumstanced, a dispute wouldopen which the sword only could decide. To escape the certainty of civilwar, therefore, it was necessary to lay down the line of inheritance by aperemptory order; to cut off resolutely all rival claims; and inlegislating upon a matter so vital, and hitherto so uncertain andindeterminate, to enforce the decision with the most stringent and exactingpenalties. From the Heptarchy downwards English history furnished no fixedrule of inheritance, but only a series of precedents of uncertainty; andwhile at no previous time had the circumstances of the succession been of anature so legitimately embarrassing, the relations of England with the popeand with foreign powers doubly enhanced the danger. But I will not use myown language on so important a subject. The preamble of the Act ofSuccession is the best interpreter of the provisions of that act. 

"In their most humble wise show unto your Majesty your most humble andobedient subjects, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal and the Commons, inthis present parliament assembled; that since it is the natural inclinationof every man gladly and willingly to provide for the safety of both histitle and succession, although it touch only his private cause; wetherefore, most rightful and dreadful Sovereign Lord, reckon ourselves muchmore bounden to beseech and intreat your Highness (although we doubt not ofyour princely heart and wisdom, mixed with a natural affection to the same)to foresee and provide for the most perfect surety of both you and of yourmost lawful successors and heirs, upon which dependeth all our joy andwealth; in whom also is united and knit the only mere true inheritance andtitle of this realm without any contradiction. We, your said most humbleand obedient servants, call to our remembrance the great divisions which intimes past hath been in this realm by reason of several titles pretended tothe imperial crown of the same; which some time and for the most partensued by occasion of ambiguity, and [by] doubts then not so perfectlydeclared but that men might upon froward intents expound them to everyman's sinister appetite and affection after their senses; whereof hathensued great destruction and effusion of man's blood, as well of a greatnumber of the nobles as of other the subjects and specialty inheritors inthe same. The greatest occasion thereof hath been because no perfect andsubstantial provision by law hath been made within this realm itself whendoubts and questions have been moved; by reason whereof the Bishops of Romeand See Apostolic have presumed in times past to invest who should pleasethem to inherit in other men's kingdoms and dominions, which thing we yourmost humble subjects, both spiritual and temporal, do much abhor anddetest. And sometimes other foreign princes and potentates of sundrydegrees, minding rather dissension and discord to continue in the realmthan charity, equity, or unity, have many times supported wrong titles, whereby they might the more easily and facilly aspire to the superiority ofthe same. 

"The continuance and sufferance of these things, deeply considered andpondered, is too dangerous and perilous to be suffered any longer; and toomuch contrary to unity, peace, and tranquillity, being greatly reproachableand dishonourable to the whole realm. And in consideration thereof, yoursaid subjects, calling further to their remembrance, that the good unity, peace, and wealth of the realm, specially and principally, above allworldly things, consisteth in the surety and certainty of the procreationand posterity of your Highness, in whose most Royal person at this time isno manner of doubt, do therefore most humbly beseech your Highness that itmay be enacted, with the consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal andthe Commons in this present parliament assembled--

"1. That the marriage between your Highness and the Lady Catherine, widowof the late Prince Arthur, be declared to have been from the beginning, null, the issue of it illegitimate, and the separation pronounced by theArchbishop of Canterbury good and valid. 

"2. That the marriage between your Highness and your most dear and entirelybeloved wife, Queen Anne, be established and held good, and taken forundoubtful, true, sincere, and perfect, ever hereafter. "[701]

The act then assumed a general character, laying down a table of prohibiteddegrees, within which marriage might not under any pretence be in futurecontracted; and demanding that any marriage which might already existwithin those degrees should be at once dissolved. After this provision, itagain returned to the king, and fixed the order in which his children byQueen Anne were to succeed. The details of the regulations were minute andelaborate, and the rule to be observed was the same as that which exists atpresent. First, the sons were to succeed with their heirs. If sons failed, then the daughters, with their heirs; and, in conclusion, it was resolvedthat any person who should maliciously do anything by writing, printing, orother external act or deed to the peril of the king, or to the prejudice ofhis marriage with Queen Anne, or to the derogation of the issue of thatmarriage, should be held guilty of high treason; and whoever should speakagainst that marriage, should be held guilty of misprision oftreason--severe enactments, such as could not be justified at ordinarytimes, and such as, if the times had been ordinary, would not have beenthought necessary--but the exigencies of the country could not tolerate anuncertainty of title in the heir to the crown; and the title could only besecured by prohibiting absolutely the discussion of dangerous questions. 

The mere enactment of a statute, whatever penalties were attached to theviolation of it, was still, however, an insufficient safeguard. The recentinvestigation had revealed a spirit of disloyalty, where such a spirit hadnot been expected. The deeper the inquiry had penetrated, the more clearlyappeared tokens, if not of conspiracy, yet of excitement, of doubt, ofagitation, of alienated feeling, if not of alienated act. All the symptomswere abroad which provide disaffection with its opportunity; and in thenatural confusion which attended the revolt from the papacy, theobligations of duty, both political and religious, had become indefiniteand contradictory, pointing in all directions, like the magnetic needle ina thunderstorm. 

It was thought well, therefore, to vest a power in the crown, of trying thetempers of suspected persons, and examining them upon oath, as to theirwillingness to maintain the decision of parliament. This measure was anatural corollary of the statute, and depended for its justification on theextent of the danger to which the state was exposed. If a difference ofopinion on the legitimacy of the king's children, or of the pope's power inEngland, was not dangerous, it was unjust to interfere with the naturalliberty of speech or thought. If it was dangerous, and if the state hadcause for supposing that opinions of the kind might spread in secret solong as no opportunity was offered for detecting their progress, to requirethe oath was a measure of reasonable self-defence, not permissible only, but in a high degree necessary and right. 

Under the impression, then, that the circumstances of the country demandedextraordinary precautions, a commission was appointed, consisting of theArchbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor, the Duke of Norfolk, and theDuke of Suffolk; and these four, or any three of them, were empowered toadminister, at the pleasure of the king, "to all and singular liegesubjects of the realm, " the following oath:--

"Ye shall swear to bear your faith, truth, and obedience only to the King'sMajesty, and to the heirs of his body, according to the limitation andrehearsal within the statute of succession; and not to any other withinthis realm, or foreign authority, prince, or potentate: and in case anyoath be made or hath been made by you to any other person or persons, thatthen you do repute the same as vain and annihilate: and that to yourcunning, wit, and utmost of your power, without guile, fraud, or otherundue means, ye shall observe, keep, maintain, and defend this act abovespecified, and all the whole contents and effects thereof; and all otheracts and statutes made since the beginning of this present parliament, inconfirmation or for due execution of the same, or of anything thereincontained. And thus ye shall do against all manner of persons, of whatestate, dignity, degree, or condition soever they be; and in no wise do orattempt, or to your power suffer to be done or attempted, directly orindirectly, any thing or things, privily or apertly, to the let, hindrance, damage, or derogation thereof, by any manner of means, or for any pretenceor cause, so help you God and all saints. "[702]

With this last resolution the House rose, having sat seventy-five days, anddespatched their business swiftly. A week later, the news arrived from Romethat there too all was at length over; that the cause was decided, anddecided against the king. The history of the closing catastrophe is asobscure as it is strange, and the account of the manner in which it wasbrought about is unfortunately incomplete in many important particulars. The outline only can be apprehended, and that very imperfectly. 

On the receipt in Paris of the letter in which Henry threatened to organisea Protestant confederacy, Du Bellay, in genuine anxiety for the welfare ofChristendom, had volunteered his services for a final effort. Not a momentwas to be lost, for the courts of Rome were already busy with the greatcause; but the king's evident reluctance to break with the Catholic powers, gave room for hope that something might still be done; and going in personto England, the bishop had induced Henry, at the last extremity, either toentrust him with representative powers, or else to allow him after all tomake some kind of concession. I am unable to learn the extent to whichHenry yielded, but that an offer was made of some kind is evident from theform of the story. [703] The winter was very cold, but the bishop made hisway to Rome with the haste of good will, and arrived in time to stayjudgment, which was on the point of being pronounced. It seemed, for themoment, as if he would succeed. He was permitted to make engagements on thepart of Henry; and that time might be allowed for communication withEngland, the pope agreed to delay sentence till the 23rd of March. Thisbishop's terms were approved by the king, and a courier was sent off withletters of confirmation; Sir Edward Karne and Dr. Revett followingleisurely, with a more ample commission. The stone which had beenlaboriously rolled to the summit of the hill was trembling on the brink, and in a moment might rebound into the plain. 

But this was not to be the end. Some accidental cause delayed the courier;the 23rd of March came, and he had not arrived. Du Bellay implored afurther respite. The King of England, he said, had waited six years; it wasnot a great thing for the papal council to wait six days. The cardinalswere divided; but the Spanish party were the strongest, and when the voteswere taken carried the day. The die was cast, and the pope, in spite ofhimself, his promises, and his conscience, drove at length upon the rocksto which he had been so long drifting. [704] In deference to the opinion ofthe majority of the cardinals, he pronounced the original marriage to havebeen valid, the dispensation by which it was permitted to have been legal;and, as a natural consequence, Henry, King of England, should he fail inobedience to this judgment, was declared to be excommunicate from thefellowship of the church, and to have forfeited the allegiance of hissubjects. 

Lest the censures should be discredited by a blank discharge, engagementswere entered into, that within four months of the promulgation of thesentence, the emperor would invade England, and Henry should bedeposed. [705] The imperialists illuminated Rome; cannon were fired;bonfires blazed; and great bodies of men paraded the streets with shouts of"the Empire and Spain. "[706] Already, in their eager expectation, Englandwas a second Netherlands, a captured province under the regency ofCatherine or Mary. 

Two days later, the courier arrived. The pope, at the entreaties of theBishop of Paris, re-assembled the consistory, to consider whether the stepswhich had been taken should be undone. They sat debating all night, and theresult was nothing. No dependence could be placed on the cardinals, DuBellay said, for they spoke one way, and voted another. [707]

Thus all was over. In a scene of general helplessness the long dramaclosed, and, what we call accident, for want of some better word, cut theknot at last over which human incapacity had so vainly laboured. The Bishopof Paris retired from Rome in despair. On his way back, he met the Englishcommissioners at Bologna, and told them that their errand was hopeless, andthat they need not proceed. "When we asked him, " wrote Sir Edward Karne tothe king, "the cause of such hasty process, he made answer that theimperialists at Rome had strengthened themselves in such a manner, thatthey coacted the said Bishop of Rome to give sentence contrary to his ownmind, and the expectation of himself and of the French king. He showed usalso that the Lady Princess Dowager sent lately, in the month of Marchpast, letters to the Bishop of Rome, and also to her proctors, whereby theBishop of Rome was much moved for her part. The imperials, before thesentence was given, promised, in the emperor's behalf, that he would be theexecutor of the sentence. "[708]

This is all which we are able to say of the immediate catastrophe whichdecided the fate of England, and through England, of the world. The deepimpenetrable falsehood of the Roman ecclesiastics prevents us fromdiscovering with what intentions the game of the last few weeks or monthshad been played; it is sufficient for Englishmen to remember that, whatevermay have been the explanation of his conduct, the pope, in the concludingpassage of his connection with this country, furnished the most signaljustification which was ever given for the revolt from an abused authority. The supreme judge in Christendom had for six years trifled with justice, out of fear of an earthly prince; he concluded these years with uniting theextreme of folly with the extreme of improbity, and pronounced a sentence, willingly or unwillingly, which he had acknowledged to be unjust. 

Charity may possibly acquit Clement of conscious duplicity. He was one ofthose men who waited upon fortune, and waited always without success; whogave his word as the interest of the moment suggested, trusting that itmight be convenient to observe it; and who was too long accustomed to breakhis promises to look with any particular alarm on that contingency. It ispossible, also, --for of this Clement was capable--that he knew from thebeginning the conclusion to which he would at last be driven; that he hadengaged himself with Charles to decide in Catherine's favour as distinctlyas he had engaged himself with Francis to decide against her; and that allhis tortuous scheming was intended either to weary out the patience of theKing of England, or to entangle him in acknowledgments from which he wouldnot be able to extricate himself. 

He was mistaken, certainly, in the temper of the English nation; hebelieved what the friars told him; and trusting to the promises ofdisaffection, insurrection, invasion--those _ignes fatui_ which for sixtyyears floated so delusively before the Italian imagination, he imagined, perhaps, that he might trifle with Henry with impunity. This only isimpossible, that, if he had seriously intended to fulfil the promises whichhe had made to the French king, the accidental delay of a courier couldhave made so large a difference in his determination. It is not possiblethat, if he had assured himself, as he pretended, that justice was on theside against which he had declared, he would not have availed himself ofany pretext to retreat from a position which ought to have been intolerableto him. 

The question, however, had ended, "as all things in this world do havetheir end. " The news of the sentence arrived in England at the beginning ofApril, with an intimation of the engagements which had been entered upon bythe imperial ambassador for an invasion. Du Bellay returned to Paris at thesame time, to report the failure of his undertaking; and Francis, disappointed, angry, and alarmed, sent the Duke of Guise to London withpromises of support if an attempt to invade was really made, and with awarning at the same time to Henry to prepare for danger. Troops weregathering in Flanders; detachments were on their way out of Italy, Germany, and Bohemia, to be followed by three thousand Spaniards, and perhaps manymore; and the object avowed for these preparations was whollyincommensurate with their magnitude. [709] For his own sake Francis couldnot permit a successful invasion of England, unless, indeed, he himself wasto take part in it; and therefore, with entire sincerity, he offered hisservices. The cordial understanding for which Henry had hoped was at anend; but the political confederacy remained, which the interests of the twocountries combined for the present to preserve unbroken. 

Guise proposed another interview at Calais between the sovereigns. The kingfor the moment was afraid to leave England, [710] lest the opportunityshould be made use of for an insurrection; but prudence taught him, thoughdisappointed in Francis, to make the best of a connection too convenient tobe sacrificed. The German league was left in abeyance till the immediatedanger was passed, and till the effect of the shock in England itself hadbeen first experienced. He gladly accepted, in lieu of it, an offer thatthe French fleet should guard the Channel through the summer; andmeanwhile, he collected himself resolutely, to abide the issue, whateverthe issue was to be. 

The Tudor spirit was at length awake in the English sovereign. He hadexhausted the resources of patience; he had stooped even to indignity toavoid the conclusion which had come at last. There was nothing left but tomeet defiance by defiance, and accept the position to which the pope haddriven him. In quiet times occasionally wayward and capricious, Henry, likeElizabeth after him, reserved his noblest nature for the moment of danger, and was ever greatest when peril was most immediate. Woe to those whocrossed him now, for the time was grown stern, and to trifle further was tobe lost. The suspended act of parliament was made law on the day (it wouldseem) of the arrival of the sentence. Convocation, which was still sitting, hurried through a declaration that the pope had no more power in Englandthan any other bishop. [711] Five years before, if a heretic had ventured sodesperate an opinion, the clergy would have shut their ears and run uponhim: now they only contended with each other in precipitate obsequiousness. The houses of the Observants at Canterbury and Greenwich, which had beenimplicated with the Nun of Kent, were suppressed, and the brethren werescattered among monasteries where they could be under surveillance. The Nunand her friends were sent to execution. [712] The ordnance stores wereexamined, the repairs of the navy were hastened, and the garrisons werestrengthened along the coast. Everywhere the realm armed itself for thestruggle, looking well to the joints of its harness and to the temper ofits weapons. 

The commission appointed under the Statute of Succession opened itssittings to receive the oaths of allegiance. Now, more than ever, was itnecessary to try men's dispositions, when the pope had challenged theirobedience. In words all went well: the peers swore; bishops, abbots, priors, heads of colleges swore[713] with scarcely an exception, --thenation seemed to unite in an unanimous declaration of freedom. In onequarter only, and that a very painful one, was there refusal. It was foundsolely among the persons who had been implicated in the late conspiracy. Neither Sir Thomas More nor the Bishop of Rochester could expect that theirrecent conduct would exempt them from an obligation which the peoplegenerally accepted with good will. They had connected themselves, perhapsunintentionally, with a body of confessed traitors. An opportunity wasoffered them of giving evidence of their loyalty, and escaping from theshadow of distrust. More had been treated leniently; Fisher had beentreated far more than leniently. It was both fair and natural that theyshould be called upon to give proof that their lesson had not been learntin vain; and, in fact, no other persons, if they had been passed over, could have been called upon to swear, for no other persons had laidthemselves open to so just suspicion. 

Their conduct so exactly tallied, that they must have agreed beforehand onthe course which they would adopt; and in following the details, we needconcern ourselves only with the nobler figure. 

The commissioners sate at the archbishop's palace at Lambeth; and at theend of April, Sir Thomas More received a summons to appear beforethem. [714] He was at his house at Chelsea, where for the last two years hehad lived in deep retirement, making ready for evil times. Those times atlength were come. On the morning on which he was to present himself, heconfessed and received the sacrament in Chelsea church; and "whereas, " sayshis great-grandson, "at other times, before he parted from his wife andchildren, they used to bring him to his boat, and he there kissing thembade them farewell, at this time he suffered none of them to follow himforth of his gate, but pulled the wicket after him, and with a heavy hearthe took boat with his son Roper. "[715] He was leaving his home for the lasttime, and he knew it. He sat silent for some minutes, and then, with asudden start, said, "I thank our Lord, the field is won. " Lambeth Palacewas crowded with people who had come on the same errand with himself. Morewas called in early, and found Cromwell present with the fourcommissioners, and also the Abbot of Westminster. The oath was read to him. It implied that he should keep the statute of succession in all its parts, and he desired to see the statute itself. He read it through, and at oncereplied that others might do as they pleased; he would blame no one fortaking the oath; but for himself it was impossible. He would swearwillingly to the part of it which secured the succession to the children ofQueen Anne. [716] That was a matter on which parliament was competent todecide, and he had no right to make objections. If he might be allowed totake an oath to this portion of the statute in language of his own, hewould do it; but as the words stood, he would "peril his soul" by usingthem. The Lord Chancellor desired him to re-consider his answer. He retiredto the garden, and in his absence others were called in; among them theBishop of Rochester, who refused in the same terms. More was then recalled. He was asked if he persisted in his resolution; and when he replied that hedid, he was requested to state his reasons. He said that he was afraid ofincreasing the king's displeasure, but if he could be assured that he mightexplain himself safely he was ready to do so. If his objection could thenbe answered to his satisfaction, he would swear; in the meantime, herepeated, very explicitly, that he judged no one--he spoke only forhimself. 

An opening seemed to be offered in these expressions which was caught at byCranmer's kind-hearted casuistry. If Sir Thomas More could not condemnothers for taking the oath, the archbishop said, Sir Thomas More could notbe sure that it was sin to take it; while his duty to his king and to theparliament was open and unquestioned. 

More hesitated for an instant, but he speedily recovered his firmness. Hehad considered what he ought to do, he said; his conscience was clear aboutit, and he could say no more than he had said already. They continued toargue with him, but without effect; he had made up his mind; the victory, as he said, had been won. 

Cromwell was deeply affected. In his passionate regret, he exclaimed, thathe had rather his only son had lost his head than that More should haverefused the oath. No one knew better than Cromwell that intercession wouldbe of no further use; that he could not himself advise the king to giveway. The parliament, after grave consideration, had passed a law which theyheld necessary to secure the peace of the country; and two persons of highrank refused obedience to it, whose example would tell in every Englishhousehold. Either, therefore, the act was not worth the parchment on whichit was written, or the penalties of it must be enforced: no middle way, nocompromise, no acquiescent reservations, could in such a case be admitted. The law must have its way. 

The recusants were committed for four days to the keeping of the Abbot ofWestminster; and the council met to determine on the course to be pursued. Their offence, by the act, was misprision of treason. On the other hand, they had both offered to acknowledge the Princess Elizabeth as the lawfulheir to the throne; and the question was raised whether this offer shouldbe accepted. It was equivalent to a demand that the form should be altered, not for them only, but for every man. If persons of their rank andnotoriety were permitted to swear with a qualification, the same privilegemust be conceded to all. But there was so much anxiety to avoidextremities, and so warm a regard was personally felt for Sir Thomas More, that this objection was not allowed to be fatal. It was thought thatpossibly an exception might be made, yet kept a secret from the world; andthe fact that they had sworn under any form might go far to silenceobjectors and reconcile the better class of the disaffected. [717] This viewwas particularly urged by Cranmer, always gentle, hoping, andillogical. [718] But, in fact, secresy was impossible. If More's discretioncould have been relied upon, Fisher's babbling tongue would have trumpetedhis victory to all the winds. Nor would the government consent to passcensure on its own conduct by evading the question whether the act was orwas not just. If it was not just, it ought not to be: maintained at all; ifit was just, there must be no respect of persons. 

The clauses to which the bishop and the ex-chancellor declined to bindthemselves were those which declared illegal the marriage of the king withCatherine, and the marriage legal between the king and Queen Anne. Torefuse these was to declare Mary legitimate, to declare Elizabethillegitimate, and would do more to strengthen Mary's claims than could beundone by a thousand oaths. However large might be More's estimate of thepower of parliament, he could have given no clear answer--and far lesscould Fisher have given a clear answer--if they had been required to saythe part which they would take, should the emperor invade the kingdom underthe pope's sanction. The emperor would come to execute a sentence which intheir consciences they believed to be just; how could they retain theirallegiance to Henry, when their convictions must be with the invading army?

What ought to have been done let those say who disapprove of what wasactually done. The high character of the prisoners, while it increased thedesire, increased the difficulty of sparing them; and to have given waywould have been a confession of a doubtful cause, which at such a timewould not have been dangerous, but would have been fatal. Anne Boleyn issaid to have urged the king to remain peremptory;[719] but the followingletter of Cromwell's explains the ultimate resolution of the council in avery reasonable manner. It was written to Cranmer in reply to hisarguments for concession. 

"My Lord, after mine humble commendation, it may please your Grace to beadvertised that I have received your letter, and showed the same to theKing's Highness; who, perceiving that your mind and opinion is, that itwere good that the Bishop of Rochester and Master More should be sworn tothe act of the king's succession, and not to the preamble of the same, thinketh that if their oaths should be taken, it were an occasion to allmen to refuse the whole, or at least the like. For, in case they be swornto the succession, and not to the preamble, it is to be thought that itmight be taken not only as a confirmation of the Bishop of Rome'sauthority, but also as a reprobation of the king's second marriage. Wherefore, to the intent that no such things should be brought into theheads of the people, by the example of the said Bishop of Rochester andMaster More, the King's Highness in no wise willeth but that they shall besworn as well to the preamble as to the act. Wherefore his Grace speciallytrusteth that ye will in no wise attempt to move him to the contrary; foras his Grace supposeth, that manner of swearing, if it shall be suffered, may be an utter destruction to his whole cause, and also to the effect ofthe law made for the same. "[720]

Thus, therefore, with much regret the council decided--and, in fact, whyshould they have decided otherwise? They were satisfied that they wereright in requiring the oath; and their duty to the English nation obligedthem to persevere. They must go their way; and those who thought them wrongmust go theirs; and the great God would judge between them. It was a hardthing to suffer for an opinion; but there are times when opinions are asdangerous as acts; and liberty of conscience was a plea which could beurged with a bad grace for men who, while in power, had fed the stake withheretics. They were summoned for a last time, to return the same answer asthey had returned before; and nothing remained but to pronounce againstthem the penalties of the statute, imprisonment at the king's pleasure, andforfeiture. The latter part of the sentence was not enforced. More's familywere left in the enjoyment of his property. Fisher's bishoprick was nottaken from him. They were sent to the Tower, where for the present we leavethem. 

Meanwhile, in accordance with the resolution taken in council on the and ofDecember, [721] but which seems to have been suspended till the issue of thetrial at Rome was decided, the bishops, who had been examined severally onthe nature of the papal authority, and whose answers had been embodied inthe last act of parliament, were now required to instruct the clergythroughout their dioceses--and the clergy in turn to instruct thepeople--in the nature of the changes which had taken place. A bishop was topreach each Sunday at Paul's Cross, on the pope's usurpation. Every secularpriest was directed to preach on the same subject week after week, in hisparish church. Abbots and priors were to teach their convents; noblemen andgentlemen their families and servants; mayors and aldermen the boroughs. Intown and country, in all houses, at all dinner-tables, the conduct of thepope and the causes of the separation from Rome were to be the one subjectof conversation; that the whole nation might be informed accurately andfaithfully of the grounds on which the government had acted. No wisermethod could have been adopted. The imperial agents would be busy under thesurface; and the mendicant friars, and all the missionaries ofinsurrection. The machinery of order was set in force to counteract themachinery of sedition. 

Further, every bishop, in addition to the oath of allegiance, had swornobedience to the king as Supreme Head of the Church;[722] and this was thetitle under which he was to be spoken of in all churches of the realm. Aroyal order had been issued, "that all manner of prayers, rubrics, canonsof Mass books, and all other books in the churches wherein the Bishop ofRome was named, or his presumptuous and proud pomp and authority preferred, should utterly be abolished, eradicated, and rased out, and his name andmemory should be never more, except to his contumely and reproach, remembered; but perpetually be suppressed and obscured. "[723]

Nor were these mere idle sounds, like the bellow of unshotted cannon; butwords with a sharp, prompt meaning, which the king intended to be obeyed. He had addressed his orders to the clergy, because the clergy were theofficials who had possession of the pulpits from which the people were tobe taught; but he knew their nature too well to trust them. They were toowell schooled in the tricks of reservation; and, for the nonce, it wasnecessary to reverse the posture of the priest and of his flock, and to setthe honest laymen to overlook their pastors. 

With the instructions to the bishops circulars went round to the sheriffsof the counties, containing a full account of these instructions, and anappeal to their loyalty to see that the royal orders were obeyed. "We, " theking wrote to them, "seeing, esteeming, and reputing you to be of suchsingular and vehement zeal and affection towards the glory of Almighty God, and of so faithful, loving, and obedient heart towards us, as you willaccomplish, with all power, diligence, and labour, whatsoever shall be tothe preferment and setting forth of God's word, have thought good, not onlyto signify unto you by these our letters, the particulars of the chargegiven by us to the bishops, but also to require and straitly charge you, upon pain of your allegiance, and as ye shall avoid our high indignationand displeasure, [that] at your uttermost peril, laying aside all vainaffections, respects, and other carnal considerations, and setting onlybefore your eyes the mirrour of the truth, the glory of God, the dignity ofyour Sovereign Lord and King, and the great concord and unity, andinestimable profit and utility, that shall by the due execution of thepremises ensue to yourselves and to all other faithful and loving subjects, ye make or cause to be made diligent search and wait, whether the saidbishops do truly and sincerely, without all manner of cloke, colour, ordissimulation, execute and accomplish our will and commandment, as isaforesaid. And in case ye shall hear that the said bishops, or any otherecclesiastical person, do omit and leave undone any part or parcel of thepremises, or else in the execution and setting forth of the same, do coldlyand feignedly use any manner of sinister addition, wrong interpretation, orpainted colour, then we straitly charge and command you that you do make, undelayedly, and with all speed and diligence, declaration andadvertisement to us and to our council of the said default. 

"And forasmuch as we upon the singular trust which we have in you, and forthe special love which we suppose you bear towards us, and the weal andtranquillity of this our realm, have specially elected and chosen you amongso many for this purpose, and have reputed you such men as unto whosewisdom and fidelity we might commit a matter of such great weight andimportance: if ye should, contrary to our expectation and trust which wehave in you, and against your duty and allegiance towards us, neglect, oromit to do with all your diligence, whatsoever shall be in your power forthe due performance of our pleasure to you declared, or halt or stumble atany part or specialty of the same; Be ye assured that we, like a prince ofjustice, will so extremely punish you for the same, that all the worldbeside shall take by you example, and beware contrary to their allegianceto disobey the lawful commandment of their Sovereign Lord and Prince. 

"Given under our signet, at our Palace of Westminster, the 9th day of June, 1534. "[724]

So Henry spoke at last. There was no place any more for nice distinctionsand care of tender consciences. The general, when the shot is flying, cannot qualify his orders with dainty periods. Swift command and swiftobedience can alone be tolerated; and martial law for those who hesitate. 

This chapter has brought many things to a close. Before ending it we willleap over three months, to the termination of the career of the pope whohas been so far our companion. Not any more was the distracted Clement totwist his handkerchief, or weep, or flatter, or wildly wave his arms inangry impotence; he was to lie down in his long rest, and vex the world nomore. He had lived to set England free--an exploit which, in the face of sopersevering an anxiety to escape a separation, required a rare genius and acombination of singular qualities. He had finished his work, and now he wasallowed to depart. 

In him, infinite insincerity was accompanied with a grace of manner whichregained confidence as rapidly as it was forfeited. Desiring sincerely, sofar as he could be sincere in anything, to please every one by turns, andreckless of truth to a degree in which he was without a rival in the world, he sought only to escape his difficulties by inactivity, and he trusted toprovide himself with a refuge against all contingencies by waiting upontime. Even when at length he was compelled to act, and to act in a distinctdirection, his plausibility long enabled him to explain away his conduct;and, honest in the excess of his dishonesty, he wore his falsehood with soeasy a grace that it assumed the character of truth. He was false, deceitful, treacherous; yet he had the virtue of not pretending to bevirtuous. He was a real man, though but an indifferent one; and we canrefuse to no one, however grave his faults, a certain ambiguous sympathy, when in his perplexities he shows us features so truly human in theirweakness as those of Clement VII. 

 * * * * *

NOTES. 

[1] Printed in FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 659, Townsend's edition. 

[2] 24 Hen. VIII. Cap. 4. 

[3] Bishop Latimer, in a sermon at Paul's Cross, suggested another purposewhich this act might answer. One of his audience, writing to the Mayor ofPlymouth, after describing the exceedingly disrespectful language in whichhe spoke of the high church dignitaries, continues, "The king, " quoth he, "made a marvellous good act of parliament that certain men should sow everyof them two acres of hemp; but it were all too little were it so much moreto hang the thieves that be in England. "--_Suppression of the Monasteries_, Camden Society's publications, p. 38. 

[4] 32 Hen. VIII. Cap. 18. 

[5] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 18. 

[6] _Antiquities of Hengrave_, by Sir T. GAGE. 

[7] See especially 2 Hen. VII. Capp. 16 and 19. 

[8] 24 Hen. VIII. Cap. 9. 

[9] See especially the 4th of the 5th of Elizabeth. 

[10] 10 Ed. III. Cap. 3. 

[11] Statutes of the Realm, vol. I. (edit. 1817), pp. 227-8. 

[12] "The artificers and husbandmen make most account of such meat as theymay soonest come by and have it quickliest ready. Their food consistethprincipally in beef, and such meat as the butcher selleth, that is to say, mutton, veal, lamb, pork, whereof the one findeth great store in themarkets adjoining; besides souse, brawn, bacon, fruit, pies of fruit, fowlsof sundry sorts, as the other wanteth it not at home by his own provision, which is at the best hand and commonly least charge. In feasting, thislatter sort--I mean the husbandmen--do exceed after their manner, especially at bridals and such odd meetings, where it is incredible to tellwhat meat is consumed and spent. "--HARRISON'S _Description of England_, p. 282. 

The Spanish nobles who came into England with Philip were astonished at thediet which they found among the poor. 

"These English, " said one of them, "have their houses made of sticks anddirt, but they fare commonly so well as the king. "--Ibid. P. 313. 

[13] _State Papers_, Hen. VIII. Vol. Ii. P. 10. 

[14] HALL, p. 646. 

[15] 25 Ed. III. Cap. I. 

[16] _Statutes of the Realm_, vol. I. P. 199. 

[17] 3 Ed. IV. Cap. 2. 

[18] 10 Hen. VI. Cap. 2. 

[19] STOW'S _Chronicle. _

[20] _Statutes of Philip and Mary. _

[21] From 1565 to 1575 there was a rapid and violent rise in the prices ofall kinds of grain. Wheat stood at four and five times its earlier rates;and in 1576, when Harrison wrote, was entirely beyond the reach of thelabouring classes. "The poor in some shires, " he says, "are enforced tocontent themselves with rye or barley, yea, and in time of dearth many withbread made either of peas, beans, or oats, or of all together and someacorns among, of which scourge the poorest do soonest taste, sith they areleast able to provide themselves of better. I will not say that thisextremity is oft so well seen in time of plenty as of dearth, but if Ishould I could easily bring my trial. For, albeit that there be much moreground eared now almost in every place than hath been of late years, yetsuch a price of corn continues in each town and market, that the artificerand poor labouring man is not able to reach to it, but is driven to contenthimself with beans, peas, oats, tares, and lentils. "--HARRISON, p. 283. Thecondition of the labourer was at this period deteriorating rapidly. Thecauses will be described in the progress of this history. 

[22] _Chronicle_, p. 568. 

[23] 33 Hen. VIII. Cap. II. The change in the prices of such articlescommenced in the beginning of the reign of Edward VI. , and continued tillthe close of the century. A discussion upon the subject, written in 1581 byMr. Edward Stafford, and containing the clearest detailed account of thealteration, is printed in the _Harleian Miscellany_, vol. Ix. P. 139, etc. 

[24] Leland, _Itin. _, vol. Vi. P. 17. In large households beef used to besalted in great quantities for winter consumption. The art of fattingcattle in the stall was imperfectly understood, and the loss of substancein the destruction of fibre by salt was less than in the falling off offlesh on the failure of fresh grass. The Northumberland Household Bookdescribes the storing of salted provision for the earl's establishment atMichaelmas; and men now living can remember the array of salting tubs inold-fashioned country houses. So long as pigs, poultry, and other articlesof food, however, remained cheap and abundant, the salt diet could not, asHume imagines, have been carried to an extent injurious to health; andfresh meat, beef as well as mutton, was undoubtedly sold in all markets thewhole year round in the reign of Henry VIII. , and sold at a uniform price, which it could not have been if there had been so much difficulty inprocuring it. Latimer (_Letters_, p. 412), writing to Cromwell on ChristmasEve, 1538, speaks of his winter stock of "beeves" and muttons as a thing ofcourse. 

[25] STAFFORD'S _Discourse on the State of the Realm_. It is to beunderstood, however, that these rates applied only to articles of ordinaryconsumption. Capons fatted for the dinners of the London companies weresometimes provided at a shilling apiece. Fresh fish was also extravagantlydear, and when two days a week were observed strictly as fasting days, itbecomes a curious question to know how the supply was kept up. The inlandcounties were dependent entirely on ponds and rivers. London was providedeither from the Thames or from the coast of Sussex. An officer of theFishmongers' Company resided at each of the Cinque Ports whose business itwas to buy the fish wholesale from the boats and to forward it onhorseback. Three hundred horses were kept for this service at Rye alone. And when an adventurous fisherman, taking advantage of a fair wind, sailedup the Thames with his catch and sold it first hand at London Bridge, theinnovation was considered dangerous, and the Mayor of Rye petitionedagainst it. 

Salmon, sturgeon, porpoise, roach, dace, flounders, eels, etc. , were caughtin considerable quantities in the Thames, below London Bridge, and furtherup, pike and trout. The fishermen had great nets that stretched all acrossLimehouse-reach four fathoms deep. 

Fresh fish, however, remained the luxury of the rich, and the poor wereleft to the salt cod, ling, and herring brought in annually by the Icelandfleet. 

Fresh herrings sold for five or six a penny in the time of Henry VIII. , andwere never cheaper. Fresh salmon five and six shillings apiece. Roach, dace, and flounders from two to four shillings a hundred. Pike and barbelvaried with their length. The barbel a foot long sold for five-pence, andtwopence was added for each additional inch: a pike a foot long sold forsixteen pence, and increased a penny an inch. --_Guildhall MSS. Journals_12, 13, 14, 15. 

[26] "When the brewer buyeth a quarter of malt for two shillings, then heshall sell a gallon of the best ale for two farthings; when he buyeth aquarter malt for four shillings, the gallon shall be four farthings, and soforth. .. And that he sell a quart of ale upon his table for a farthing. "--Assize of Brewers: from a MS. In Balliol College, Oxford. 

By an order of the Lord Mayor and Council of the City of London, inSeptember, 1529, the price of a kilderkin of single beer was fixed at ashilling, the kilderkin of double beer at two shillings; but this includedthe cask; and the London brewers replied with a remonstrance, saying thatthe casks were often destroyed or made away with, and that an allowance hadto be made for bad debts. "Your beseechers, " they said, "have many citydebtors, for many of them which have taken much beer into their housessuddenly goeth to the sanctuary, some keep their houses--some purchase theking's protection, and some, when they die, be reckoned poor, and of novalue, and many of your said beseechers be for the most part against suchdebtors remediless and suffer great losses. "

They offered to supply then: customers with sixteen gallon casks of singlebeer for eleven pence, and the same quantity of double beer for a shilling, the cask included. And this offer was accepted. 

The corporation, however, returned two years after to their original order. _Guildhall Records_, MS. Journal 13, pp. 210, 236. 

[27] 28 Hen. VIII. Cap. 14. 

The prices assessed, being a maximum, applied to the best wines of eachclass. In 1531, the mayor and corporation "did straitly charge and commandthat all such persons as sold wines by retail within the city and libertiesof the same, should from henceforth sell two gallons of the best red winefor eightpence, and not above; the gallon of the best white wine foreightpence, and not above; the pottle, quart, and pint after the same rate, upon pain of imprisonment. "

The quality of the wine sold was looked into from time to time, and whenfound tainted, or unwholesome, "according to the antient customs of thecity, " the heads of the vessels were broken up, and the wines in them putforth open into the kennels, in example of all other offenders. _GuildhallMS. _ Journals 12 and 13. 

[28] _Sermons_, p. 101. 

[29] See HARRISON, p. 318. At the beginning of the century farms let forfour pounds a year, which in 1576 had been raised to forty, fifty, or ahundred. The price of produce kept pace with the rent. The large farmersprospered; the poor forfeited their tenures. 

[30] The wages were fixed at a maximum, showing that labour was scarce, andthat its natural tendency was towards a higher rate of remuneration. Persons not possessed of other means of subsistence were punishable if theyrefused to work at the statutable rate of payment; and a clause in the actof Hen. VIII. Directed that where the practice had been to give lowerwages, lower wages should be taken. This provision was owing to adifference in the value of money in different parts of England. The priceof bread at Stratford, for instance, was permanently twenty-five per cent. Below the price in London. (Assize of Bread in England: _Balliol MS_. ) Thestatute, therefore, may be taken as a guide sufficiently conclusive as tothe practical scale. It is of course uncertain how far work was constant. The ascending tendency of wages is an evidence, so far as it goes, in thelabourer's favour; and the proportion between the wages of the householdfarm servant and those of the day labourer, which furnishes a furtherguide, was much the same as at present. By the same statute of Henry VIII. The common servant of husbandry, who was boarded and lodged at his master'shouse, received 16s. 8d. A year in money, with 4s. For his clothes; whilethe wages of the out-door labourer, supposing his work constant, would havebeen £5 a year. Among ourselves, on an average of different counties, thelabourer's wages are £25 to £30 a year, supposing his work constant. Thefarm servant, unless in the neighbourhood of large towns, receives about£6, or from that to £8. 

Where meat and drink was allowed it was calculated at 2d. A day, or 1s. 2d. A week. In the household of the Earl of Northumberland the allowance was2-1/2d. Here, again, we observe an approach to modern proportions. Theestimated cost of the board and lodging of a man servant in an Englishgentleman's family is now about £25 a year. 

[31] Mowers, for instance, were paid 8d. A day. --_Privy Purse Expenses ofHenry VIII. _

[32] In 1581 the agricultural labourer, as he now exists, was onlybeginning to appear. "There be such in the realm, " says Stafford, "as liveonly by the labour of their hands and the profit which they can make uponthe commons. "--STAFFORD'S _Discourse_. This novel class had been calledinto being by the general raising of rents, and the wholesale evictions ofthe smaller tenantry which followed the Reformation. The progress of thecauses which led to the change can be traced from the beginning of thecentury. Harrison says he knew old men who, comparing things present withthings past, spoke of two things grown to be very grievous--to wit, "theenhancing of rents, and the daily oppression of copyholders, whose lordsseek to bring their poor tenants almost into plain servitude and misery, daily devising new means, and seeking up all the old, how to cut themshorter and shorter; doubling, trebling, and now and then seven timesincreasing their fines; driving them also for every trifle to lose andforfeit their tenures, by whom the greatest part of the realm doth standand is maintained, to the end they may fleece them yet more: which is alamentable hearing. "--_Description of England_, p. 318. 

[33] HALL, p. 581. Nor was the act in fact observed even in London itself, or towards workmen employed by the Government. In 1538, the Corporation ofLondon, "for certain reasonable and necessary considerations, " assessed thewages of common labourers at 7d. And 8d. The day, classing them withcarpenters and masons. --_Guildhall MSS. Journal_ 14, fol. 10. Labourersemployed on Government works in the reign of Hen. VIII. Never received lessthan 6d. A day, and frequently more. --_Chronicle of Calais_, p. 197, etc. Sixpence a day is the usual sum entered as the wages of a day's labour inthe innumerable lists of accounts in the Record Office. And 6d. A day againwas the lowest pay of the common soldier, not only on exceptional servicein the field, but when regularly employed in garrison duty. Those who doubtwhether this was really the practice, may easily satisfy themselves byreferring to the accounts of the expenses of Berwick, or of Dover, Deal, orWalmer Castles, to be found in the Record Office in great numbers. Thedaily wages of the soldier are among the very best criteria for determiningthe average value of the unskilled labourer's work. No government giveshigher wages than it is compelled to give by the market rate. 

[34] The wages of the day labourer in London, under this act of Elizabeth, were fixed at 9d. The day, and this, after the restoration of thedepreciated currency. --_Guildhall MSS. Journal_ 18, fol. 157, etc. 

[35] 4 Hen. VII. Cap. 16. By the same parliament these provisions wereextended to the rest of England. 4 Hen. VII. Cap. 19. 

[36] HALL, p. 863. 

[37] 27 Hen. VIII. Cap. 22. 

[38] There is a cause of difficulty "peculiar to England, the increase ofpasture, by which sheep may be now said to devour men and unpeople not onlyvillages but towns. For wherever it is found that the sheep yield a softerand richer wool than ordinary, there the nobility and gentry, and eventhose holy men the abbots, not contented with the old rents which theirfarms yielded, nor thinking it enough that they, living at their ease, dono good to the public, resolve to do it hurt instead of good. They stop thecourse of agriculture. .. . One shepherd can look after a flock which willstock an extent of ground that would require many hands if it were ploughedand reaped. And this likewise in many places raises the price of corn. Theprice of wool is also risen . .. Since, though sheep cannot be called amonopoly, because they are not engrossed by one person; yet they are in sofew hands, and these are so rich, that as they are not prest to sell themsooner than they have a mind to it, so they never do it till they haveraised the price as high as possible. "--Sir THOMAS MORE'S _Utopia_, Burnet's Translation, pp. 17-19. 

[39] I find scattered among the _State Papers_ many loose memoranda, apparently of privy councillors, written on the backs of letters, or onsuch loose scraps as might be at hand. The following fragment on thepresent subject is curious. I do not recognise the hand:--

"Mem. That an act may be made that merchants shall employ their goodscontinually in the traffic of merchandise, and not in the purchasing oflands; and that craftsmen, also, shall continually use their crafts incities and towns, and not leave the same and take farms in the country; andthat no merchant shall hereafter purchase above £40 lands by theyear. "--_Cotton MS. _ Titus, b. I. 160. 

[40] When the enclosing system was carried on with greatest activity andprovoked insurrection. In expressing a sympathy with the social policy ofthe Tudor government, I have exposed myself to a charge of opposing thereceived and ascertained conclusions of political economy. I disclaimentirely an intention so foolish; but I believe that the science ofpolitical economy came into being with the state of things to which aloneit is applicable. It ought to be evident that principles which answeradmirably when a manufacturing system capable of indefinite expansionmultiplies employment at home--when the soil of England is but a fractionof its empire, and the sea is a highway to emigration--would have producedfar different effects, in a condition of things which habit had petrifiedinto form, when manufactures could not provide work for one additionalhand, when the first colony was yet unthought of, and where those who werethrown out of the occupation to which they had been bred could find noother. The tenants evicted, the labourers thrown out of employ, when thetillage lands were converted into pastures, had scarcely an alternativeoffered them except to beg, to rob, or to starve. 

[41] _Lansdowne MS. _ No. I. Fol. 26. 

[42] GIUSTINIANI'S _Letters from the Court of Henry VIII_. 

[43] Ibid. 

[44] 22 Hen. VIII. Cap. 18. 

[45] Under Hen. VI. The household expenses were £23, 000 a year--Cf. _Proceedings and Ordinances of the Privy Council_, vol. Vi. P. 35. Theparticulars of the expenses of the household of Hen. VIII. Are in an MS. Inthe Rolls House. They cover the entire outlay except the personalexpenditure of the king, and the sum total amounts to £14, 365 10s. 7d. Thiswould leave above £5000 a year for the privy purse, not, perhaps, sufficient to cover Henry's gambling extravagances in his early life. Curious particulars of his excesses in this matter will be found in apublication wrongly called _The Privy Purse Expenses of Henry the Eighth_. It is a diary of general payments, as much for purposes of state as for theking himself. The high play was confined for the most part to Christmas orother times of festivity, when the statutes against unlawful games weredispensed with for all classes. 

[46] 18 Hen. VI. Cap. 11. 

[47] 4 Hen. VII. Cap. 12. 

[48] During the quarter sessions time they were allowed 4s. A day. --Ric. II. Xii. 10. 

[49] The rudeness of the furniture in English country houses has been dweltupon with much emphasis by Hume and others. An authentic inventory of thegoods and chattels in a parsonage in Kent proves that there has been muchexaggeration in this matter. It is from an MS. In the Rolls House. 

_The Inventory of the Goods and Catales of Richd. Master, Clerk, Parson ofAldington, being in his Parsonage on the 20th Day of April, in the 25thYear of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord King Henry VIII. _

 _Plate_ Silver spoons, twelve. 

 _In the Hall_ Two tables and two forms. Item, a painted cloth hanging at the upper part of the hall. Item, a green banker hung on the bench in the hall. Item, a laver of laten. 

 _In the Parlour_ A hanging of old red and green saye. Item, a banker of woven carpet of divers colours. Item, two cushions. Item, one table, two forms, one cupboard, one chair. Item, two painted pictures and a picture of the names of kings of England pinned on the said hanging. 

 _In the Chamber on the North Side of the said Parlour_ A painted hanging. Item, a bedstedyll with a feather bed, one bolster, two pillows, one blanket, one roulett of rough tapestry, a testner of green and red saye. Item, two forms. Item, one jack to set a basin on. 

 _In the Chamber over the Parlour_ Two bedsteads. Item, another testner of painted cloth. Item, a painted cloth. Item, two forms. 

 _At the Stairs' Hed beside the Parson's Bedchamber_ One table, two trestylls, four beehives. 

 _In the Parson's Lodging-chamber_ A bedstedyll and a feather bed, two blankets, one payr of sheets, one coverlet of tapestry lined with canvas, one bolster, one pillow with a pillocote. Item, one gown of violet cloth lined with red saye. Item, a gown of black cloth, furred with lamb. Item, two hoods of violet cloth, whereof one is lined with green sarsenet. Item, one jerkyn of tawny camlet. Item, a jerkyn of cloth furred with white. Item, a jacket of cloth furred. Item, a sheet to put in cloth. Item, one press. Item, a leather mail. Item, one table, two forms, four chairs, two trestylls. Item, a tester of painted cloth. Item, a pair of hangings of green saye, with two pictures thereupon. Item, one cupboard, two chests. Item, a little flock bed, with a bolster and a coverlet. Item, one cushion, one mantell, one towel, and, by estimation, a pound of wax candles. Item, Greek books covered with boards, 42. Item, small books covered with boards, 33. Item, books covered with leather and parchment, 38. 

 _In the said Chest in the said Chamber_ Three pieces of red saye and green. Item, one tyke for a bolster, two tykes for pillows. Item, a typpett of cloth. Item, diaper napkins, 4, diaper towels, 2. Item, four pairs of sheets, and one shete, two tablecloths. 

 _In the other Chest in the same Chamber_ One typpett of sarsenett. Item, two cotes belonging to the crosse of Underbill, whereupon hang thirty-three pieces of money, rings, and other things, and three crystal stones closed in silver. 

 _In the Study_ Two old boxes, a wicker hamper full of papers. 

 _In the Chamber behind the Chimney_ One seam and a half of old malt. Item, a trap for rats. Item, a board of three yards length. 

 _In the Chamber next adjoining westwards_ One bedstedyll, one flock bed, one bolster. One form, two shelf boards, one little table, two trestylls, two awgyes, one nett, called a stalker, a well rope, five quarters of hemp. 

 _In the Buttery_ Three basins of pewter, five candlesticks, one ewer of lateen, one chafing dish, two platters, one dish, one salter, three podingers [? porringer], a saltseller of pewter, seven kilderkyns, three keelers, one form, five shelves, one byn, one table, one glasse bottell. 

 _In the Priest's Chamber_ One bedstedyll, one feather bed, two forms, one press. 

 _In the Woman's Keeping_ Two tablecloths, two pairs of sheets. 

 _In the Servant's Chamber_ One painted hanging, a bedstedyll, one feather bed, a press, and a shelf. 

 _In the Kitchen_ Eight bacon flitches, a little brewing lead, three brass pots, three kettles, one posnett, one frying-pan, a dripping-pan, a great pan, two trivetts, a chopping knife, a skimmer, one fire rake, a pothanger, one pothooke, one andiron, three spits, one gridiron, one firepan, a coal rake of iron, two bolts [? butts], three wooden platters, six boldishes, three forms, two stools, seven platters, two pewter dishes, four saucers, a covering of a saltseller, a podynger, seven tubbs, a caldron, two syffs, a capon cope, a mustard quern, a ladder, two pails, one beehive. 

 _In the Mill-house_ Seven butts, two cheeses, an old sheet, an old brass pan, three podyngers, a pewter dish. 

 _In the Boulting-house_ One brass pan, one quern, a boulting hutch, a boulting tub, three little tubbys, two keelers, a tolvett, two boulters, one tonnell. 

 _In the Larder_ One sieve, one bacon trough, a cheese press, one little tub, eight shelves, one graper for a well. 

 _Wood_ Of tall wood ten load, of ash wood a load and a half. 

 _Poultry_ Nine hens, eight capons, one cock, sixteen young chickens, three old geese, seventeen goslings, four ducks. 

 _Cattle_ Five young hoggs, two red kyne, one red heifer two years old, one bay gelding lame of spavins, one old grey mare having a mare colt. 

 _In the Entries_ Two tubbs, one trough, one ring to bear water and towel, a chest to keep cornes. 

 _In the same House_ Five seams of lime. 

 _In the Woman's Chamber_ One bedstedyll of hempen yarn, by estimation 20 lbs. 

 _Without the House_ Of tyles, ----, of bricks, ----, seven planks, three rafters, one ladder. 

 _In the Gate-house_ One form, a leather sack, three bushels of wheat. 

 _In the Still beside the Gate_ Two old road saddles, one bridle, a horse-cloth. 

 _In the Barn next the Gate_ Of wheat unthrashed, by estimation, thirty quarters, of barley unthrashed, by estimation, five quarters. 

 _In the Cartlage_ One weene with two whyles, one dung-cart without whyles, two shod-whyles, two yokes, one sledge. 

 _In the Barn next the Church_ Of oats unthrashed, by estimation, one quarter. 

 _In the Garden-house_ Of oats, by estimation, three seams four bushels. 

 _In the Court_ Two racks, one ladder. 

[50] Two hundred poor were fed daily at the house of Tomas Cromwell. Thisfact is perfectly authenticated. Stowe the historian, who did not likeCromwell, lived in an adjoining house, and reports it as an eyewitness. --_See_ STOWE'S _Survey of London. _

[51] HARRISON'S _Description of Britain_. 

[52] The Earl and Countess of Northumberland breakfasted together alone atseven. The meal consisted of a quart of ale, a quart of wine, and a chineof beef: a loaf of bread is not mentioned, but we hope it may be presumed. On fast days the beef was exchanged for a dish of sprats or herrings, freshor salt. --_Northumberland Household Book_, quoted by Hume. 

[53] Some notice of the style of living sometimes witnessed in England inthe old times may be gathered from the details of a feast given at theinstallation of George Neville, brother of Warwick the King Maker, whenmade Archbishop of York. 

The number of persons present including servants was about 3500. 

The provisions were as follow--

 Wheat, 300 quarters. Ale, 300 tuns. Wine, 104 tuns. Ipocras, 1 pipe. Oxen, 80. Wild bulls, 6. Muttons, 1004. Veal, 300. Porkers, 300. Geese, 3000. Capons, 2300. Pigs, 2000. Peacocks, 100. Cranes, 200. Kids, 200. Chickens, 2000. Pigeons, 4000. Conies, 4000. Bitterns, 204. Mallards and teals, 4000. Heronshaws, 4000. Fesants, 200. Partridges, 500. Woodcocks, 400. Plovers, 400. Curlews, 100. Quails, 100. Egrets, 1000 Rees, 200. Harts, bucks, and roes, 400 and odd. Pasties of venison, cold, 4000. Pasties of venison, hot, 1506. Dishes of jelly, pasted, 1000. Plain dishes of jelly, 4000. Cold tarts, baken, 4000. Cold custards, 4000. Custards, hot, 2000. Pikes, 300. Breams, 300. Seals, 8. Porpoises, 4. 

[54] LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 64. 

[55] _Statutes of the Realm_, 1 Ed. VI. Cap. 12. 

[56] HOOKER'S _Life of Sir Peter Carew_. 

[57] In a subsequent letter he is described as learning French, etymology, casting of accounts, playing at weapons, and other such exercises. --ELLIS, third series, vol. I. P. 342-3. 

[58] It has been objected that inasmuch as the Statute Book gives evidenceof extensive practices of adulteration, the guild system was useless, nay, it has been even said that it was the cause of the evil. Cessante causâcessat effectus;--when the companies lost their authority, the adulterationought to have ceased, which in the face of recent exposures will bescarcely maintained. It would be as reasonable to say that the police areuseless because we have still burglars and pickpockets among us. 

[59] Throughout the old legislation, morality went along with politics andeconomics, and formed the life and spirit of them. The fruiterers in thestreets were prohibited from selling plums and apples, because theapprentices played dice with them for their wares, or because thetemptation induced children and servants to steal money to buy. WhenParliament came to be held regularly in London, an order of Council fixedthe rates which the hotel-keeper might charge for dinners. Messes wereserved for four at twopence per head; the bill of fare providing bread, fish, salt and fresh, two courses of meat, ale, with fire and candles. Andthe care of the Government did not cease with their meals, and in ananxiety that neither the burgesses nor their servants should be led intosin, stringent orders were issued against street-walkers coming near theirquarters. --_Guildhall MSS. Journals_ 12 and 15. 

The sanitary regulations for the city are peculiarly interesting. Thescavengers, constables and officers of the wards were ordered, "on pain ofdeath, " to see all streets and yards kept clear of dung and rubbish and allother filthy and corrupt things. Carts went round every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, to carry off the litter from the houses, and on each of thosedays twelve buckets of water were drawn for "every person, " and used incleaning their rooms and passages. 

Particular pains were taken to keep the Thames clean, and at the mouth ofevery sewer or watercourse there was a strong iron grating two feetdeep. --_Guildhall MSS. Journal_ 15. 

[60] And not in England alone, but throughout Europe. 

[61] 27 Hen. VIII. Cap. 25. 

[62] Ibid. 

[63] Ibid. 

[64] 22 Hen. VIII. Cap. 4; 28 Hen. VIII. Cap. 5. 

[65] _Statut. Winton. _ 13 Edw. I. Cap. 6. 

[66] 12 Rich. II. Cap. 6: 11 Hen. IV. Cap. 4. 

[67] ELLIS'S _Original Letters_, first series, vol. I. P. 226. 

[68] It has been stated again and again that the policy of Henry the Eighthwas to make the crown despotic by destroying the remnants of the feudalpower of the nobility. How is such a theory to be reconciled with statutesthe only object of which was the arming and training of the countrypopulation, whose natural leaders were the peers, knights, and gentlemen?We have heard too much of this random declamation. 

[69] 33 Hen. VIII. Cap. 9. 

[70] From my experience of modern archery I found difficulty in believingthat these figures were accurately given. Few living men could send thelightest arrow 220 yards, even with the greatest elevation, and foreffective use it must be delivered nearly point blank. A passage inHOLINSHED'S _Description of Britain_, however, prevents me from doubtingthat the words of the statute are correct. In his own time, he says thatthe strength of the English archers had so notoriously declined that theFrench soldiers were in the habit of disrespectfully turning their backs, at long range, "bidding them shoot, " whereas, says Holinshed, "had thearchers been what they were wont to be, these fellows would have had theirbreeches nailed unto their buttocks. " In an order for bowstaves, in thereign of Henry the Eighth, I find this direction: "Each bowstave ought tobe _three fingers thick_ and squared, and _seven feet long_: to be got upwell polished and without knots. "--Butler to Bullinger: _Zurich Letters_. 

[71] Page 735, quarto edition. 

[72] The Personages, Dresses, and Properties of a Mystery Play, acted atGreenwich, by command of Henry VIII. _Rolls House MS. _

[73] Hall says "collar of the _garter_ of St. Michael, " which, however, Iventure to correct. 

[74] Rich. II. 12, cap. 7, 8, 9; Rich. II. 15, cap. 6. 

[75] _Lansdowne MSS. _ 1, fol. 26. 

[76] Injunctions to the Monasteries: BURNET'S _Collect. _ pp. 77-8. 

[77] Letter of Thomas Dorset to the Mayor of Plymouth: _Suppression of theMonasteries_, p. 36. 

[78] "Divers of your noble predecessors, kings of this realm, have givenlands to monasteries, to give a certain sum of money yearly to the poorpeople, whereof for the ancienty of the time they never give one penny. Wherefore, if your Grace will build to your poor bedemen a sure hospitalthat shall never fail, take from them these things. .. . Tie the holy idlethieves to the cart to be whipped, naked, till they fall to labour, thatthey, by their importunate begging take not away the alms that the goodcharitable people would give unto us sore, impotent, miserable people, yourbedemen. "--FISH'S _Supplication_: FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 664. 

[79] 27 Hen. VIII. Cap. 25. 

[80] Roads, harbours, embankments, fortifications at Dover and at Berwick, etc. --STRYPE's _Memorials_, vol. 1. P. 326 and 419. 

[81] It is to be remembered that the criminal law was checked on one sideby the sanctuary system, on the other by the practice of benefit of clergy. Habit was too strong for legislation, and these privileges continued toprotect criminals long after they were abolished by statute. There isabundant evidence that the execution of justice was as lax in practice asit was severe in theory. 

[82] 27 Ed. III. Stat. 1; 38 Ed. III. Stat. 2; 16 Rich. Cap. 5. 

[83] 25 Ed. III. Stat. 4; stat. 5, cap. 22; 13 Rich. II. Stat. 2, cap. 2; 2Hen. IV. Cap. 3; 9 Hen. IV. Cap. 8. 

[84] See p. 42. 

[85] _Lansdowne MS. _ 1, fol. 26; STOW'S _Chron. _ ed. 1630, p. 338. 

[86] 2 Hen. IV. Cap. 3; 9 Hen. IV. Cap. 8. 

[87] 2 Hen. IV. Cap. 15. 

[88] Hen. VII. Cap. 4. Among the miscellaneous publications of the RecordCommission, there is a complaint presented during this reign, by thegentlemen and the farmers of Carnarvonshire, accusing the clergy ofsystematic seduction of their wives and daughters. 

[89] Hen. IV. Cap. 15. 

[90] MORTON'S _Register_, MS. Lambeth. See vol. Ii. Cap. 10, of the secondedition of this work for the results of Morton's investigation. 

[91] MORTON'S _Register_; and see WILKINS'S _Concilia_, vol. Iii. Pp. 618-621. 

[92] Quibus Dominus intimavit qualis infamia super illos in dictâ civitatecrescit quod complures eorundem tabernas pandoxatorias, sive cauponesindies exerceant ibidem expectando fere per totum diem. Quare Dominusconsuluit et monuit eosdem quod in posterum talia dimittant, et quoddimittant suos longos crines et induantur togis non per totum apertis. 

[93] The expression is remarkable. They were not to dwell on the offencesof their brethren coram laicis qui semper clericis sunt infesti. --WILKINS, vol. Iii. P. 618. 

[94] Johannes permissione divinâ Cantuar. Episcop. Totius Angliæ primas cumin præsenti convocatione pie et salubriter consideratum fuit quod nonnullisacerdotes et alii clerici ejusdem nostræ provinciæ in sacris ordinibusconstituti honestatem clericalem in tantum abjecerint ac in comâ tonsurâqueet superindumentis suis quæ in anteriori sui parte totaliter apertaexistere dignoscuntur, sic sunt dissoluti et adeo insolescant quod intereos et alios laicos et sæculares viros nulla vel modica comæ vel habituumsive vestimentorum distinctio esse videatur quo fiet in brevi ut a multisverisimiliter formidatur quod sicut populus ita et sacerdos erit, et nisiceleriori remedio tantæ lasciviæ ecclesiasticarum personarum quanto ocyusobviemus et clericorum mores hujusmodi maturius compescamus, _EcclesiaAnglicana quæ superioribus diebus vitâ famâ et compositis moribus floruissedignoscitur nostris temporibus quod Deus avertat, præcipitanter ruet_;

Desiring, therefore, to find some remedy for these disorders, lest theblood of those committed to him should be required at his hands, thearchbishop decrees and ordains, --

Ne aliquis sacerdos vel clericus in sacris ordinibus constitutus togamgerat nisi clausam a parte anteriori et non totaliter apertam neque utaturense nec sicâ nec zonâ aut marcipio deaurato vel auri ornatum habente. Incedent etiam omnes et singuli presbyteri et clerici ejusdem nostræprovinciæ coronas et tonsuras gerentes aures patentes ostendendo juxtacanonicas sanctiones. --WILKINS, vol. Iii. P. 619. 

[95] See WARHAM'S _Register_, MS. Lambeth. 

[96] 21 Hen. VIII. Cap. 13. 

[97] ROY'S _Satire against the Clergy_, written about 1528, is soplain-spoken, and goes so directly to the point of the matter, that it isdifficult to find a presentable extract. The following lines on the bishopsare among the most moderate in the poem:--

 "What are the bishops divines-- Yea, they can best skill of wines Better than of divinity; Lawyers are they of experience, And in cases against conscience They are parfet by practice. To forge excommunications, For tythes and decimations Is their continual exercise. As for preaching they take no care, They would rather see a course at a hare; Rather than to make a sermon To follow the chase of wild deer, Passing the time with jolly cheer. Among them all is common To play at the cards and dice; Some of them are nothing nice Both at hazard and momchance; They drink in golden bowls The blood of poor simple souls Perishing for lack of sustenance. Their hungry cures they never teach, Nor will suffer none other to preach, " etc. 

[98] LATIMER'S _Sermons_, pp. 70, 71. 

[99] A peculiarly hateful form of clerical impost, the priests claiming thelast dress worn in life by persons brought to them for burial. 

[100] Fitz James to Wolsey, FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 196. 

[101] _Supplication of the Beggars_; FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 661. The glimpsesinto the condition of the monasteries which had been obtained in theimperfect visitation of Morton, bear out the pamphleteer too completely. See chapter x. Of this work, second edition. 

[102] FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 658. 

[103] 13 Ric. II. Stat. Ii. C. 2; 2 Hen. IV. C. 3; 9 Hen. IV. C. 8. Lingardis mistaken in saying that the Crown had power to dispense with thesestatutes. A dispensing power was indeed granted by the 12th of the 7th ofRic. II. But by the 2nd of the 13th of the same reign, the king isexpressly and by name placed under the same prohibitions as all otherpersons. 

[104] HALL, p. 784. 

[105] 25 Hen. VIII. C. 22. 

[106] 28 Hen. VIII. C. 24. Speech of Sir Ralph Sadler in parliament, _Sadler Papers_, vol. Iii. P. 323. 

[107] Nor was the theory distinctly admitted, or the claim of the house ofYork would have been unquestionable. 

[108] 25 Hen. VIII. C. 22, Draft of the Dispensation to be granted to HenryVIII. _Rolls House MS. _ It has been asserted by a writer in the _Tablet_that there is no instance in the whole of English history where theambiguity of the marriage law led to a dispute of title. This was not theopinion of those who remembered the wars of the fifteenth century. "Recensin quorundam vestrorum animis adhuc est illius cruenti temporis memoria, "said Henry VIII. In a speech in council, "quod a Ricardo tertio cum avinostri materni Edwardi quarti statum in controversiam vocâsset ejusqueheredes regno atque vitâ privâsset illatum est. "-WILKINS'S _Concilia_, vol. Iii. P. 714. Richard claimed the crown on the ground that a precontractrendered his brother's marriage invalid, and Henry VII. Tacitly allowed thesame doubt to continue. The language of the 22nd of the 25th of Hen. VIII. Is so clear as to require no additional elucidation; but another distinctevidence of the belief of the time upon the subject is in one of the paperslaid before Pope Clement. 

"Constat, in ipso regno quam plurima gravissima bella sæpe exorta, confingentes ex justis et legitimis nuptiis quorundam Angliæ regumprocreatos illegitimos fore propter aliquod consangunitatis vel affinitatisconfictum impedimentum et propterea inhabiles esse ad regnisuccessionem. "--_Rolls House MS. _; WILKINS'S _Concilia_, vol. Iii. P. 707. 

[109] 28 Hen. VIII. C. 24. 

[110] _Appendix 2 to the Third Report of the Deputy-Keeper of the PublicRecords_, p. 241. 

[111] _Sadler Papers_, vol. Iii. P. 323. 

[112] 28 Hen. VIII. C. 24. 

[113] _Four Years at the Court of Henry the Eighth_, vol. Ii. Pp. 315-16. 

[114] Sir Charles Brandon, created Duke of Suffolk, and married to MaryTudor, widow of Louis XII. 

[115] 28 Hen. VIII. C. 24. 

[116] The treaty was in progress from Dec. 24, 1526, to March 2, 1527 [LORDHERBERT, pp. 80, 81], and during this time the difficulty was raised. Theearliest intimation which I find of an intended divorce was in June, 1527, at which time Wolsey was privately consulting the bishops. --_State Papers_vol. I. P. 189. 

[117] It was for some time delayed; and the papal agent was instructed toinform Ferdinand that a marriage which was at variance a jure etlaudabilibus moribus could not be permitted nisi maturo consilio etnecessitatis causâ. --Minute of a brief of Julius the Second, dated March13, 1504, _Rolls House MS_. 

[118] LORD HERBERT, p. 114. 

[119] LORD HERBERT, p. 117, Kennett's edition. The act itself is printed inBURNET'S _Collectanea_, vol. Iv. (Nares' edition) pp. 5, 6. It is datedJune 27, 1505. Dr. Lingard endeavours to explain away the renunciation as aform. The language of Moryson, however, leaves no doubt either of itscauses or its meaning. "Non multo post sponsalia contrahuntur, " he says, "Henrico plus minus tredecim annos jam nato. Sed rerum non recte inceptarumsuccessus infelicior homines non prorsus oscitantes plerumque docet quidrecte gestum quid perperam, quid factum superi volunt quid infectum. Nimirum Henricus Septimus nullâ ægritudinis prospecta causâ repente indeteriorem valetudinem prolapsus est, nec unquam potuit affectum corpuspristinum statum recuperare. Uxor in aliud ex alio malum regina omniumlaudatissimia non multo post morbo periit. Quid mirum si Rex tot iratinuminis indiciis admonitus coeperit cogitare rem male illis succedere quivellent hoc nomine cum Dei legibus litem instituere ut diutius cum homineamicitiam gerere possent. Quid deinceps egit? Quid aliud quam quod decuitChristianissimum regem? Filium ad se accersiri jubet, accersitur. Adest, adsunt et multi nobilissimi homines. Rex filium regno natum hortatur utsecum una cum doctissimis ac optimis viris cogitavit nefarium esse putareleges Dei leges Dei non esse cum papa volet. Non ita longâ oratione ususfilium patri obsequentissimum a sententiâ nullo negotio abduxit. Sponsaliacontracta infirmantur, pontificiæque auctoritatis beneficio palamrenunciatum est. Adest publicus tabellio--fit instrumentum. Rerum gestarumtestes rogati sigilla apponunt. Postremo filius patri fidem se illam uxoremnunquam ducturum. "--_Apomaxis_ RICARDI MORYSINI. Printed by Berthelet, 1537. 

[120] See LINGARD, sixth edition, vol. Iv. P. 164. 

[121] HALL, p. 507. 

[122] He married Catherine, June 3, 1509. Early in the spring of 1510 shemiscarried. --_Four Years at the Court of Henry VIII. _ vol. I. P. 83. 

Jan. 1, 1511. A prince was born, who died Feb. 22. --HALL. 

Nov. 1513. Another prince was born, who died immediately. --LINGARD, vol. Iv, p. 290. 

Dec. 1514. Badoer, the Venetian ambassador, wrote that the queen had beendelivered of a still-born male child, to the great grief of the wholenation. 

May 3, 1515. The queen was supposed to be pregnant. If the supposition wasright, she must have miscarried. --_Four Years at the Court of Henry VIII. _vol. I. P. 81. 

Feb. 18, 1516. The Princess Mary was born. 

July 3, 1518. "The Queen declared herself quick with child. " (Pace toWolsey: _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 2, ) and again miscarried. 

These misfortunes we are able to trace accidentally through casual letters, and it is probable that these were not all. Henry's own words upon thesubject are very striking:--

"All such issue male as I have received of the queen died incontinent afterthey were born, so that I doubt the punishment of God in that behalf. Thusbeing troubled in waves of a scrupulous conscience, and partly in despairof any issue male by her, it drove me at last to consider the estate ofthis realm, and the danger it stood in for lack of issue male to succeed mein this imperial dignity. "--CAVENDISH, p. 220. 

[123] "If a man shall take his brother's wife it is an uncleanthing. He hath uncovered his brother's nakedness. They shall bechildless. "--_Leviticus_ xx. 21. It ought to be remembered, that if thepresent law of England be right, the party in favour of the divorce wasright. 

[124] _Letters of the Bishop of Bayonne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[125] Legates to the Pope, printed in BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 40. 

[126] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 117. 

[127] _Letters of the Bishop of Bayonne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. ; HALL, 669. 

[128] They were shut up in the Castle of St. Angelo. 

[129] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 18, 19. 

[130] The fullest account of Wolsey's intentions on church reform will befound in a letter addressed to him by Fox, the old blind Bishop ofWinchester, in 1528. The letter is printed in STRYPE'S _Memorials Eccles. _vol. I. Appendix 10. 

[131] _Letters of the Bishop of Bayonne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. It is notuncommon to find splendid imaginations of this kind haunting statesmen ofthe 16th century; and the recapture of Constantinople always formed afeature in the picture. _A Plan for the Reformation of Ireland_, drawn upin 1515, contains the following curious passage: "The prophecy is, that theKing of England shall put this land of Ireland into such order that thewars of the land, whereof groweth the vices of the same, shall cease forever; and after that God shall give such grace and fortune to the same kingthat he shall with the army of England and of Ireland subdue the realm ofFrance to his obeysance for ever, and shall rescue the Greeks, and recoverthe great city of Constantinople, and shall vanquish the Turks and win theHoly Cross and the Holy Land, and shall die Emperor of Rome, and eternalblisse shall be his end. "--_State Papers_, vol. Ii. Pp. 30, 31. 

[132] Knight to Henry: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 2, 3. 

[133] Wolsey to Cassalis: Ibid. P. 26. 

[134] The dispensing power of the popes was not formally limited. Accordingto the Roman lawyers, a faculty lay with them of granting extraordinarydispensations in cases where dispensations would not be usuallyadmissible--which faculty was to be used, however, dummodo causa cogaturgentissima ne regnum aliquod funditus pereat; the pope's business beingto decide on the question of urgency. --Sir Gregory Cassalis to Henry VIII. , Dec. 26, 1532. _Rolls House MS. _

[135] Knight and Cassalis to Wolsey: BURNET'S _Collect. _ p. 12. 

[136] STRYPE'S _Memorials_, vol. I. , Appendix p. 66. 

[137] Sir F. Bryan and Peter Vannes to Henry; _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 144. 

[138] STRYPE'S _Memorials_, Appendix, vol. I. P. 100. 

[139] Ibid. Appendix, vol. I. Pp. 105-6; BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 13. 

[140] Wolsey to the Pope, BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 16: Vereor quod tamennequeo tacere, ne Regia Majestas, humano divinoque jure quod habet ex omniChristianitate suis his actionibus adjunctum freta, postquam viderit sedisApostolicæ gratiam et Christi in terris Vicarii clementiam desperatamCæsaris intuitu, in cujus manu neutiquam est tam sanctos conatus reprimere, ea tunc moliatur, ea suæ causæ perquirat remedia, quæ non solum huic Regnosed etiam aliis Christianis principibus occasionem subministrarent sedisApostolicæ auctoritatem et jurisdictionem imminuendi et vilipendendi. 

[141] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 20. Wolsey to John Cassalis: "If hisHolyness, which God forbid, shall shew himself unwilling to listen to theking's demands, to me assuredly it will be but grief to live longer, forthe innumerable evils which I foresee will then follow. One only sureremedy remains to prevent the worst calamities. If that be neglected, thereis nothing before us but universal and inevitable ruin. "

[142] Gardiner and Fox to Wolsey; STRYPE'S _Memorials_, vol. I. Appendix, p. 92. 

[143] His Holiness being yet in captivity, as he esteemed himself to be, solong as the Almayns and Spaniards continue in Italy, he thought if heshould grant this commission that he should have the emperour his perpetualenemy without any hope of reconciliation. Notwithstanding he was contentrather to put himself in evident ruin, and utter undoing, than the king oryour Grace shall suspect any point of ingratitude in him; heartily desiringwith sighs and tears that the king and your Grace which have been alwaysfast and good to him, will not now suddenly precipitate him for ever: whichshould be done if immediately on receiving the commission your Grace shouldbegin process. He intendeth to save all upright thus. If M. De Lautrecwould set forwards, which he saith daily that he will do, but yet he dothnot, at his coming the Pope's Holiness may have good colour to say, "He wasrequired of the commission by the ambassador of England, and denying thesame, he was, eftsoons, required by M. De Lautrec to grant the saidcommission, inasmuch as it was but a letter of justice. " And by this colourhe would cover the matter so that it might appear unto the emperour thatthe pope did it not as he that would gladly do displeasure unto theemperour, but as an indifferent judge, that could not nor might denyjustice, specially being required by such personages; and immediately hewould despatch a commission bearing date after the time that M. De Lautrechad been with him or was nigh unto him. The pope most instantly beseechethyour Grace to be a mean that the King's Highness may accept this in a goodpart, and that he will take patience for this little time, which, as it issupposed, will be but short. --Knight to Wolsey and the King, Jan. 1, 1527-8: BURNET _Collections_, 12, 13. 

[144] Such at least was the ultimate conclusion of a curious discussion. When the French herald declared war, the English herald accompanied himinto the emperor's presence, and when his companion had concluded, followedup his words with an intimation that unless the French demands werecomplied with, England would unite to enforce them. The Emperor replied toFrancis with defiance. To the English herald he expressed a hope that peaceon that side would still be maintained. For the moment the two countrieswere uncertain whether they were at war or not. The Spanish ambassador inLondon did not know, and the court could not tell him. The Englishambassador in Spain did not leave his post, but he was placed undersurveillance. An embargo on Spanish and English property was laidrespectively in the ports of the two kingdoms; and the merchants andresidents were placed under arrest. Alarmed by the outcry in London, theking hastily concluded a truce with the Regent of the Netherlands, thelanguage of which implied a state of war; but when peace was concludedbetween France and Spain, England appeared only as a contracting party, notas a principal, and in 1542 it was decided that the antecedent treatiesbetween England and the empire continued in force. --See LORD HERBERT;HOLINSHED; _State Papers_, vols. Vii. Viii. And ix. ; with the treaties inRYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2. 

[145] Gardiner to the King: BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 426. 

[146] Duke of Suffolk to Henry the Eighth: _State Papers_, vol. Vii, p. 183. 

[147] Duke of Suffolk to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 183. 

[148] HALL, p. 744. 

[149] When the clothiers of Essex, Kent, Wiltshire, Suffolk, and othershires which are clothmaking, brought cloths to London to be sold, as theywere wont, few merchants or none bought any cloth at all. When theclothiers lacked sale, then they put from them their spinners, carders, tuckers, and such others that lived by clothworking, which caused thepeople greatly to murmur, and specially in Suffolk, for if the Duke ofNorfolk had not wisely appeased them, no doubt but they had fallen to somerioting. When the king's council was advertised of the inconvenience, thecardinal sent for a great number of the merchants of London, and to themsaid, "Sirs, the king is informed that you use not yourselves likemerchants, but like graziers and artificers; for where the clothiers dodaily bring cloths to the market for your ease, to their great cost, andthen be ready to sell them, you of your wilfulness will not buy them, asyou have been accustomed to do. What manner of men be you?" said thecardinal. "I tell you that the king straitly commandeth you to buy theircloths as beforetime you have been accustomed to do, upon pain of his highdispleasure. "--HALL, p. 746. 

[150] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 157. By manners and customs he was referringclearly to his intended reformation of the church. See the letter of Fox, Bishop of Winchester (STRYPE'S _Memorials_, vol. Ii. P. 25), in whichWolsey's intentions are dwelt upon at length. 

[151] Ibid. Pp. 136, 7. 

[152] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 96, 7. 

[153] Wolsey to Cassalis: Ibid. P. 100. 

[154] State Papers, vol. Vii. Pp. 106, 7

[155] Ibid. P. 113. 

[156] Ibid. Vii. P. 113. 

[157] Take the veil. 

[158] Instruction to the Ambassadours at Rome: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 136. 

[159] _Letters of the Bishop of Bayanne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[160] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 231. 

[161] Instrucion para Gonzalo Fernandez que se envoie a Ireland al Conde deDesmond, 1529. --MS. Archives at Brussels. --_The Pilgrim_, note 1, p. 169. 

[162] Henrici regis octavi de repudiandâ dominâ Catherinâ oratio IdibusNovembris habita 1528. 

Veneranda et chara nobis præsulum procerum atque consiliariorum cohors quoscommunis reipublicæ atque regni nostri administrandi cura conjunxit. Haudvos latet divinâ nos Providentiâ viginti jam ferme annis hanc nostrampatriam tantâ felicitate rexisse ut in illâ ab hostilibus incursionibustuta semper interea fuerit et nos in his bellis quæ suscepimus victoressemper evasimus; et quanquam in eo gloriâri jure possumus majoremtranquillitatem opes et honores prioribus huc usque ductis socculis, nunquam subditis a majoribus parentibusque nostris Angliâ regibus quam anobis provenisse, tamen quando cum hâc gloriâ in mentem una venit acconcurrit mortis cogitatio, veremur ne nobis sine prole legitimâdecedentibus majorem ex morte nostrâ patiamini calamitatem quam ex vitâfructum ac emolumentum percepistis. Recens enim in quorundam vestrorumanimis adhuc est illius cruenti temporis memoria quod a Ricardo tertio cumavi nostri materni Edwardi Quarti statum in controversiam vocasset ejusqueheredes regno atque vitâ privâsset illatum est. Tum ex historiis notæ suntillæ diræ strages quæ a clarissimis Angliæ gentibus Eboracensi atqueLancastrensi, dum inter se de regno et imperio multis ævis contenderent, populo evenerunt. Ac illæ ex justis nuptiis inter Henricum Septimum etdominam Elizabetham clarissimos nostros parentes contractis in nobis indelegitimâ natâ sobole sopitæ tandem desierunt. Si vero quod absit, regalisex nostris nuptiis stirps quæ jure deinceps regnare possit non nascatur, hoc regnum civilibus atque intestinis se versabit tumultibus aut inexterorum dominationem atque potestatem veniet. Nam quanquam formâ atquevenustate singulari, quæ magno nobis solatio fuit filiam Dominam Mariam exnobilissimâ foeminâ Dominâ Catherinâ procreavimus, tamen a piis atqueeruditis theologis nuper accepimus quia eam quæ Arturi fratris nostriconjux ante fuerat uxorem duximus nostras nuptias jure divino esse vetitas, partumque inde editum non posse censeri legitimum. Id quod eo vehementiusnos angit et excruciat, quod cum superiori anno legatos ad conciliandasinter Aureliensem ducem et filiam nostram Mariam nuptias ad FranciscumGallorum regem misissemus a quodam ejus consiliario responsum est, "antequam de hujusmodi nuptiis agatum inquirendum esse prius an Mariafuerit filia nostra legitima; constat enim 'inquit, ' quod exdominâCatherinâ fratris sui viduâ cujusmodi nuptiæ jure divino interdictæ suntsuscepta est. " Quæ oratio quanto metu ac horrore animum nostrum turbaveritquia res ipsa æternæ tam animi quam corporis salutis periculum in secontinet, et quam perplexis cogitationibus conscientiam occupat, vos quibuset capitis aut fortunæ ac multo magis animarum jactura immineret, remediumnisi adhibere velitis, ignorare non posse arbitror. Hæc una res--quod Deoteste et in Regis oraculo affirmamus--nos impulit ut per legatosdoctissimorum per totum orbem Christianum theologorum sententiasexquireremus et Romani Pontificis legatum verum atque æquum judicium detantâ causâ laturum ut tranquillâ deinceps et intergâ conscientiâ inconjugio licito vivere possimus accerseremus. In quo si ex sacris litterishoc quo viginti jam fere annis gavisi sumus matrimonium jure divinopermissum esse manifeste liquidoque constabit, non modo ob conscientiætranquillitatem, verum etiam ob amabiles mores virtutesque quibus reginaprædita et ornata est, nihil optatius nihilque jucundius accidere nobispotest. Nam præterquam quod regali atque nobili genere prognata est, tantâpræterea comitate et obsequio conjugali tum cæteris animi morumqueornamentis quæ nobilitatem illustrant omnes foeminas his viginti annis sicmihi anteire visa est ut si a conjugio liber essem ac solutus, si juredivino liceret, hanc solam præ cæteris foeminis stabili mihi jure acfoedere matrimoniali conjungerem. Si vero in hoc judicio matrimoniumnostrum jure divino prohibitum, ideoque ab initio nullum irritumque fuissepronuncietur, infelix hic meus casus multis lacrimis lugendus acdeplorandus erit. Non modo quod a tam illustris et amabilis mulierisconsuetudine et consortio divertendum sit, sed multo magis quod specie adsimilitudinem veri conjugii decepti in amplexibus plusquam fornicariis tammultos annos trivimus nullâ legitimâ prognatâ nobis sobole quæ nobismortuis hujus inclyti regni hereditatem capessat. 

Hæ nostræ curæ istæque solicitudines sunt quæ mentem atque conscientiamnostram dies noctesque torquent et excurciant, quibus auferendis etprofligandis remedium ex hâc legatione et judicio opportunum quærimus. Ideoque vos quorum virtuti atque fidei multum attribuimus rogamus ut certumatque genuinum nostrum de hâc re sensum quem ex nostro sermone percepistispopulo declaretis: eumque excitetis ut nobiscum una oraret ut adconscientiæ nostræ pacem atque tranquillitatem in hoc judicio veritasmultis jam annis tenebris involuta tandem patefiat. --WILKINS'S _Concilia_, vol. Iii. P. 714. 

[163] HALL, _Letters of the Bishop of Bayonne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[164] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[165] Ibid. Vol. Iii. Pp. 232, 3. 

[166] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 120; Ibid. P. 186. 

[167] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 41. 

[168] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 193. 

[169] The Emperor could as little trust Clement as the English, and to thelast moment could not tell how he would act. 

"Il me semble, " wrote Inigo di Mendoza to Charles on the 17th of June, 1529, --"il me semble que Sa Sainteté differe autant qu'il peut ce qu'auparavant il avoit promis, et je crains qu'il n'ait ordonné aux legatz cequi jusques à present avoit resté en suspens qu'ils procedent par lapremière commission. Ce qui faisant votre Majesté peut tenir la Reineautant que condamné. "--_MS. Archives at Brussels. _

The sort of influence to which the See of Rome was amenable appears inanother letter to the Emperor, written from Rome itself on the 4th ofOctober. The Pope and cardinals, it is to be remembered, were claiming tobe considered the supreme court of appeal in Christendom. 

"Si je ne m'abuse tous ou la pluspart du Saint College sont plusaffectionnez à vostre dite Majesté que à autre Prince Chrestien: de vousescrire, Sire, particulièrement toutes leurs responses seroit chose troplongue. Tant y a que elles sont telles que votre Majesté a raison doubtgrandement se contenter d'icelles. 

". .. Seulement diray derechief à vostre Majesté, et me souvient l'avoirdict plusieurs fois, qu'il est en vostre Majesté gaigner et entretenirperpetuellement ce college en vostre devotion en distribuant seulemententre les principaulx d'eulx en pensions et benefices la somme de vingtmille ducas, l'ung mille, l'autre deulx ou trois mille. Et est cecy chose, Sire, que plus vous touche que à autre Prince Chrestien pour les affairesque vostre Majesté a journellement à despescher en ceste court. "--M. DePræt to Charles V. August 5th, 1529. MS. Ibid. 

[170] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 377. 

[171] Ibid. Vol. Iii. P. 374. 

[172] Ibid. Vol. Iii. P. 355. 

[173] Ibid. 

[174] Memorandum relating to the Society of Christian Brethren. _RollsHouse MS. _

[175] DALABER'S _Narrative_, printed in FOXE, vol. Iv. Seeley's Ed. 

[176] All authorities agree in the early account of Henry, and his lettersprovide abundant proof that it is not exaggerated. The followingdescription of him in the despatches of the Venetian ambassador shows theeffect which he produced on strangers in 1515:--

"Assuredly, most serene prince, from what we have seen of him, and inconformity, moreover, with the report made to us by others, this mostserene king is not only very expert in arms and of great valour and mostexcellent in his personal endowments, but is likewise so gifted and adornedwith mental accomplishments of every sort, that we believe him to have fewequals in the world. He speaks English, French, Latin, understands Italianwell; plays almost on every instrument; sings and composes fairly; isprudent, and sage, and free from every vice. "--_Four Years at the Court ofHenry VIII. _ vol. I. P. 76. 

Four years later, the same writer adds, --

"The king speaks good French, Latin, and Spanish; is very religious; hearsthree masses a day when he hunts, and sometimes five on other days; hehears the office every day in the queen's chamber--that is to say, vespersand complins. "--Ibid. Vol. Ii. P. 312. William Thomas, who must have seenhim, says, "Of personage he was one of the goodliest men that lived in his time; beinghigh of stature, in manner more than a man, and proportionable in all hismembers unto that height; of countenance he was most amiable; courteous andbenign in gesture unto all persons and specially unto strangers; seldom ornever offended with anything; and of so constant a nature in himself that Ibelieve few can say that ever he changed his cheer for any novelty howcontrary or sudden so ever it were. Prudent he was in council andforecasting; most liberal in rewarding his faithful servants, and even untohis enemies, as it behoveth a prince to be. He was learned in all sciences, and had the gift of many tongues. He was a perfect theologian, a goodphilosopher, and a strong man at arms, a jeweller, a perfect builder aswell of fortresses as of pleasant palaces, and from one to another therewas no necessary kind of knowledge, from a king's degree to a carter's, buthe had an honest sight in it. "--_The Pilgrim_ p. 78. 

[177] Exposition of the Commandments, set forth by Royal authority, 1536. This treatise was drawn up by the bishops, and submitted to, and revisedby, the king. 

[178] SAGUDINO'S _Summary. Four Years at the Court of Henry VIII. _ vol. Ii. P. 75. 

[179] "The truth is, when I married my wife, I had but fifty pounds to liveon for me and my wife so long as my father lived, and yet she brought meforth every year a child. "--Earl of Wiltshire to Cromwell: ELLIS, thirdseries, vol. Iii. Pp. 22, 3. 

[180] BURNET, vol. I. P. 69. 

[181] Thomas Allen to the Earl of Shrewsbury: LODGE'S _Illustrations_, vol. I. P. 20. 

[182] Earl of Northumberland to Cromwell: printed by LORD HERBERT and byBURNET. 

[183] 28 Hen. VIII. Cap. 7. 

[184] Since these words were written, I have discovered among the Archivesof Simancas what may perhaps be some clue to the mystery, in an epitome ofa letter written to Charles V. From London in May, 1536:---

"His Majesty has letters from England of the 11th of May, with certain newsthat the paramour of the King of England, who called herself queen, hasbeen thrown into the Tower of London for adultery. The partner of her guiltwas an organist of the Privy Chamber, who is in the Tower as well. Anofficer of the King's wardrobe has been arrested also for the same offencewith her, and one of her brothers for having been privy to her offenceswithout revealing them. They say, too, that if the adultery had not beendiscovered, the King was determined to put her away, having been informedby competent witnesses that she was married and had consummated hermarriage nine years before, with the Earl of Northumberland. "

[185] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 131. 

[186] Wyatt's Memorials, printed in Singer's CAVENDISH, p. 420. 

[187] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 132. 

[188] ELLIS, first series, vol. I. P. 135. "My Lord, in my most humblestwise that my poor heart can think, I do thank your Grace for your kindletter, and for your rich and goodly present; the which I shall never beable to deserve without your great help; of the which I have hitherto hadso great plenty, that all the days of my life I am most bound of allcreatures, next to the King's Grace, to love and serve your Grace. Of thewhich I beseech you never to doubt that ever I shall vary from this thoughtas long as any breath is in my body. "

[189] CAVENDISH _Life of Wolsey, _ p. 316. Singer's edition. 

[190] CAVENDISH, pp. 364, 5. 

[191] _Letters of the Bishop of Bayonne_, LEGRAND, vol. Iii. Pp. 368, 378, etc. 

[192] See HALE'S _Criminal Causes from the Records of the Consistory Courtof London. _

[193] Petition of the Commons, infra, p. 191, etc. 

[194] Reply of the Ordinaries to the petition of the Commons, infra, p. 202, etc. 

[195] Petition of the Commons. 23 Hen. VIII. C. 9. 

[196] HALE'S _Criminal Causes, _ p. 4. 

[197] An Act that no person committing murder, felony, or treason should beadmitted to his clergy under the degree of sub-deacon. 

[198] In May, 1528, the evil had become so intolerable, that Wolsey drewthe pope's attention to it. Priests, he said, both secular and regular, were in the habit of committing atrocious crimes, for which, if not inorders, they would have been promptly executed; and the laity werescandalised to see such persons not only not degraded, but escaping withcomplete impunity. Clement something altered the law of degradation inconsequence of this representation, but quite inadequately. --RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 96. 

[199] Thomas Cowper et ejus uxor Margarita pronubæ horribiles, et instigantmulieres ad fornicandum cum quibuscunque laicis, religiosis, fratribusminoribus, et nisi fornicant in domo suâ ipsi diffamabunt nisi voluerintdare eis ad voluntatem eorum; et vir est pronuba uxori, et vult relinquereeam apud fratres minores pro peccatis habendis. --HALE, _Criminal Causes, _p. 9. 

Joanna Cutting communis pronuba at præsertim inter presbyteros fratresmonachos et canonicos et etiam inter Thomam Peise et quandam Agnetam, etc. --HALE, _Criminal Causes, _ p. 28. 

See also Ibid. Pp. 15, 22, 23, 39, etc. 

In the first instance the parties accused "made their purgation" and weredismissed. The exquisite corruption of the courts, instead of invitingevidence and sifting accusations, allowed accused persons to support theirown pleas of not guilty by producing four witnesses, not to disprove thecharges, but to swear that they believed the charges untrue. This wascalled "purgation. "

Clergy, it seems, were sometimes allowed to purge themselves simply ontheir own word. --HALE, p. 22; and see the Preamble of the 1st of the 23rdof Henry VIII. 

[200] Complaints of iniquities arising from confession were laid beforeParliament as early as 1394. 

"Auricularis confessio quæ dicitur tam necessaria ad salvationem hominis, cum fictâ potestate absolutionis exaltat superbiam sacerdotum, et dat illisopportunitatem secretarum sermocinationum quas nos nolumus dicere, quiadomini et dominæ attestantur quod pro timore confessorum suorum non audentdicere veritatem; et in tempore confessionis est opportunum tempusprocationis id est of wowing et aliarum secretarum conventionum adpeccata mortalia. Ipsi dicunt quod sunt commissarii Dei ad judicandum deomni peccato perdonandum et mundandum quemcunque eis placuerint. Dicuntquod habent claves coeli et inferni et possunt excommunicare et benedicereligare et solvere in voluntatem eorum; in tantum quod pro bussello vel 12denariis volunt vendere benedictionem coeli per chartam et clausulam dewarrantiâ sigillitâ sigillo communi. Ista conclusio sic est in usu quod noneget probatione aliquâ. "--Extract from a Petition presented to Parliament:WILKINS, vol. Iii. P. 221. 

This remarkable paper ends with the following lines:--

 "Plangunt Anglorum gentes crimen Sodomorum Paulus fert horum sunt idola causa malorum Surgunt ingrati Giezitæ Simone nati Nomine prælati hoc defensare parati Qui reges estis populis quicunque præstis Qualiter his gestis gladios prohibere potestis. "

See also HALE, p. 42, where an abominable instance is mentioned, and astill worse in the _Suppression of the Monasteries, _ pp. 45-50. 

[201] HALE, p. 12. 

[202] Ibid. Pp. 75, 83; _Suppression of the Monasteries, _ p. 47. 

[203] Ibid. P. 80. 

[204] Ibid. P. 83. 

[205] I have been taunted with my inability to produce more evidence. Forthe present I will mention two additional instances only, and perhaps Ishall not be invited to swell the list further. 

1. In the State Paper Office is a report to Cromwell by Adam Bekenshaw, oneof his diocesan visitors, in which I find this passage:--

"There be knights and divers gentlemen in the diocese of Chester who dokeep concubines and do yearly compound with the officials for a small sumwithout monition to leave their naughty living. "

2. In another report I find also the following:--

"The names of such persons as be permitted to live in adultery andfornication for money:--

 "The Vicar of Ledbury. The Vicar of Brasmyll. The Vicar of Stow. The Vicar of Cloune. The Parson of Wentnor. The Parson of Rusbury. The Parson of Plowden. The Dean of Pountsbury. The Parson of Stratton. Sir Matthew of Montgomery. Sir ---- of Lauvange. Sir John Brayle. Sir Morris of Clone. Sir Adam of Clone. Sir Pierce of Norbury. Sir Gryffon ap Egmond. Sir John Orkeley. Sir John of Mynton. Sir John Reynolds. Sir Morris of Knighton, priest. Hugh Davis. Cadwallader ap Gern. Edward ap Meyrick. With many others of the diocese of Hereford. "

The originals of both these documents are in the State Paper Office. Thereare copies in the Bodleian Library. --_MS. Tanner, _ 105. 

[206] Skelton gives us a specimen of the popular criticisms:--

 "Thus I, Colin Clout, As I go about, And wondering as I walk, I hear the people talk: Men say for silver and gold Mitres are bought and sold: A straw for Goddys curse, What are they the worse?

 "What care the clergy though Gill sweat, Or Jack of the Noke? The poor people they yoke With sumners and citacions, And excommunications. About churches and markets The bishop on his carpets At home soft doth sit. This is a fearful fit, To hear the people jangle. How wearily they wrangle! But Doctor Bullatus

 "Parum litteratus, Dominus Doctoratus At the broad gate-house. Doctor Daupatus And Bachelor Bacheleratus, Drunken as a mouse At the ale-house, Taketh his pillion and his cap At the good ale-tap, For lack of good wine. As wise as Robin Swine, Under a notary's sign, Was made a divine; As wise as Waltham's calf, Must preach in Goddys half; In the pulpit solemnly; More meet in a pillory; For by St. Hilary He can nothing smatter Of logic nor school matter. 

 "Such temporal war and bate As now is made of late Against holy church estate, Or to mountain good quarrels; The laymen call them barrels Full of gluttony and of hypocrisy, That counterfeits and paints As they were very saints. 

 "By sweet St. Marke, This is a wondrous warke, That the people talk this. Somewhat there is amiss. The devil cannot stop their mouths, But they will talk of such uncouths All that ever they ken Against spiritual men. "

I am unable to quote more than a few lines from ROY'S _Satire_. At theclose of a long paragraph of details an advocate of the clergy ventures tosay that the bad among them are a minority. His friend answers:--

 "Make the company great or small, Among a thousand find thou shall Scant one chaste of body or mind. "

[207] Answer of the Bishops to the Commons' Petition: _Rolls House MS. _

[208] Joanna Leman notatur officio quod non venit ad ecclesiam parochialem;et dicit se nolle accipere panem benedictum a manibus rectoris; et vocaviteum "horsyn preste. "--HALE, p. 99. 

[209] HALE, p. 63. 

[210] Ibid. P. 98. 

[211] Ibid. P. 38. 

[212] Ibid. P. 67. 

[213] Ibid. P. 100. 

[214] CAVENDISH, _Life of Wolsey_, p. 251. 

[215] HALL, p. 764. 

[216] Ibid. P. 764. 

[217] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 361. 

[218] 6 Hen. VIII. Cap. 16. 

[219] The session lasted six weeks only, and several of the subjects of thepetition were disposed of in the course of it, as we shall see. 

[220] The MS. From which I have transcribed this copy is itself imperfect, as will be seen in the "reply of the Bishops, " which supplies severalomitted articles. See p. 137, et seq. It is in the Rolls House. 

[221] The penny, as I have shown, equalled, in terms of a poor man'snecessities, a shilling. See chap. I. 

[222] See instance's in HALE: p, 62, _Omnium Sanctorum in muro_. --M. Gulielmus Edward curatus notatur officio quod recusat ministrare sacramentaecelesiastica ægrotantibus nisi prius habitis pecuniis pro suo labore: p. 64, _St. Mary Magdalen_. --Curatus notatur officio prbpter quod recusavitsolemnizare matrrimonium quousque habet pro hujusmodi solemnizatione, _3s. 8d. _; and see pp. 52, 75. 

[223] I give many instances of this practice in my sixth chapter. It was adirect breach of the statute of Henry IV. , which insists on allexaminations for heresy being conducted in open court. "The diocesan andhis commissaries, " says that act, "shall openly and judicially proceedagainst persons arrested. "--2 Hen. IV. C. 15. 

[224] Again breaking the statute of Hen. IV. , which limited the period ofimprisonment previous to public trial to three months. --2 Hen. IV. C. 15. 

[225] To be disposed of at Smithfield. Abjuration was allowed once. For asecond offence there was no forgiveness. 

[226] Petition of the Commons. _Rolls House MS. _

[227] See STRYPE, _Eccles. Memorials_, vol. I. P. 191-2, --who is veryeloquent in his outcries upon his subject. 

[228] _Answer of the Bishops_, p. 204, etc. 

[229] Explanations are not easy; but the following passage may suggest themeaning of the House of Commons:--"The holy Father Prior of Maiden Bradleyhath but six children, and but one daughter married yet of the goods of themonastery; trusting shortly to marry the rest. "--Dr. Leyton to Cromwell:_Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 58. 

[230] Reply of the Bishops, infra. 

[231] CAVENDISH, _Life of Wolsey_, p. 390. MORE'S _Life of More_, p. 109. 

[232] Populus diu oblatrans. Fox to Wolsey. STRYPE, _Eccl. Mem. _ vol. I. Appendix, p. 27. 

[233] RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 119. 

[234] The answer of the Ordinaries to the supplication of the worshipfulthe Commons of the Lower House of Parliament offered to our Sovereign Lordthe King's most noble Grace. --_Rolls House MS. _

[235] The terms of the several articles of complaint are repeated verballyfrom the petition. I condense them to spare recapitulation. 

[236] 2 Hen. IV. Cap. 15; 2 Hen. V. Cap. 7. 

[237] An Act that no person shall be cited out of the diocese in which hedwells, except in certain cases. It received the Royal assent two yearslater. See 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 9. 

[238] 21 Hen. VIII. Cap. 5. An Act concerning fines and sums of money to betaken by the ministers of bishops and other ordinaries of holy church forthe probate of testaments. 

[239] HALE, _Precedents_, p. 86. 

[240] Ibid. 

[241] 21 Hen. VIII. Cap. 6. An Act concerning the taking of mortuaries, ordemanding, receiving, or claiming the same. 

In Scotland the usual mortuary was, a cow and the uppermost cloth orcounterpane on the bed in which the death took place. A bishop reprimandinga suspected clergyman for his leaning toward the Reformation, said tohim:--

"My joy, Dean Thomas, I am informed that ye preach the epistle and gospelevery Sunday to your parishioners, and that ye take not the cow nor theupmost cloth from your parishioners; which thing is very prejudicial to thechurchmen. And therefore, Dean Thomas, I would ye took your cow and upmostcloth, or else it is too much to preach every Sunday, for in so doing yemay make the people think we should preach likewise. "--CALDERWOOD, vol. I. P. 126. 

The bishop had to burn Dean Thomas at last, being unable to work convictioninto him in these matters. 

[242] 21 Hen. VIII. Cap. 13. An Act that no spiritual person shall takefarms; or buy and sell for lucre and profit; or keep tan-houses orbreweries. And for pluralities of benefices and for residence. 

[243] HALL, p. 767. 

[244] Ibid. 766

[245] Ibid. 767. 

[246] Ibid. 766. 

[247] Ibid. 768. 

[248] So reluctant was he, that at one time he had resolved, rather thancompromise the unity of Christendom, to give way. When the disposition ofthe court of Rome was no longer doubtful, "his difficultatibus permotus, cum in hoc statu res essent, dixerunt qui ejus verba exceperunt, postprofundam secum de universo negotio deliberationem et mentis agitationem, tandem in hæc verba prorupisse, se primum tentâsse illud divortiumpersuasum ecclesiam Romanam hoc idem probaturum--quod si ita iliaabhorreret ab illâ sententiâ ut nullo modo permittendum censeret se nollecum eâ contendere neque amplius in illo negotio progredi. "

Pole, on whose authority we receive these words, says that they were heardwith almost unanimous satisfaction at the council board. The moment ofhesitation was, it is almost certain, at the crisis which preceded orattended Wolsey's fall. It endured but for three days, and was dispelled bythe influence of Cromwell, who tempted both the king and parliament intotheir fatal revolt. --POLI _Apologia ad Carolum Quintum_. 

[249] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 446. The censures were threatened in the firstbrief, but the menace was withdrawn under the impression that it was notneeded. 

[250] Ibid. The second brief is dated March 7, and declares that the king, if he proceeds, shall incur ipso facto the greater excommunication; thatthe kingdom will fall under an interdict. 

[251] Cranmer was born in 1489, and was thus forty years old when he firstemerged into eminence. 

[252] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 226. 

[253] Je croy qu'il ne feist en sa vie ceremonie qui luy touchast si présdu coeur, ne dont je pense qu'il luy doive advenir moins du bien. Caraucunes fois qu'il pensoit qu'on ne le regardast, il faisoit de si grandssoupirs que pour pesante que fust sa chappe, il la faisoit bransler à bonescient. --_Lettre de M. De Gramont, Evêque de Tarbès. _ LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 386. 

[254] ELLIS, _Third Series_, vol. Ii. P. 98. "In the letters showed us byM. De Buclans from the emperor, of the which mention was made in ciphers, it was written in terms that the French king would offer unto your Gracethe papalite of France vel Patriarchate, for the French men would no moreobey the Church of Rome. "--Lee to Wolsey. 

[255] A ce qu'il m'en a declaré des fois plus de trois en secret, il seroitcontent que le dit mariage fust ja faict, ou par dispense du Legatd'Angleterre ou autrement; mais que ce ne fust par son autorité, in aussidiminuant sa puissance, quant aux dispenses, et limitation de droictdivin. --_Dechiffrement de Lettres de M. De Tarbès. _--LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 408. 

[256] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 408. 

[257] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 230. 

[258] The Bishop of Tarbès to the King of France. LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 401. 

[259] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 234. 

[260] Ibid. P. 235. 

[261] We demand a service of you which it is your duty to concede; and yourfirst thought is lest you should offend the emperor. We do not blame _him_. That in such a matter he should be influenced by natural affection isintelligible and laudable. But for that very reason we decline to submit toso partial a judgment. --Henry VIII. To the Pope: BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 431. 

[262] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 394. 

[263] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 317. 

[264] For Croke's Mission, see BURNET, vol. I. P. 144 e. 

[265] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 241. 

[266] Friar Pallavicino to the Bishop of Bath. _Rolls House MS. _

[267] Croke and Omnibow to the King. _Rolls House MS. _

[268] Generalis magister nostri ordinis mandavit omnibus suæ religionisprofessoribus, ut nullus audeat de auctoritate Pontificis quicquam loqui. Denique Orator Cæsareus in talia verba prorupit, quibus facile cognovi utme a Pontifice vocari studeat et tunc timendum esset saluti meæ. FatherOmnibow to Henry VIII. _Rolls House MS. _

[269] BURNET'S _Collect. _ p. 50. Burnet labours to prove that on Henry'sside there was no bribery, and that the emperor was the only offender; anexamination of many MS. Letters from Croke and other agents in Italy leadsme to believe that, although the emperor only had recourse to intimidation, because he alone was able to practise it, the bribery was equally sharedbetween both parties. 

[270] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 458. The Grand Master to the King ofFrance:--De l'autre part, adventure il n'est moins a craindre, que le Royd'Angleterre, irrité de trop longues dissimulations, trouvast moyen deparvenir a ses intentions du consentement de l'Empereur, et que parl'advenement d'un tiers _se fissent ami, Herode et Pilate_. 

[271] Ibid. Vol. Iii. P. 467, etc. 

[272] Letter from the King of France to the President of the Parliament ofParis. _Rolls House MS. _

[273] Letter from Reginald Pole to Henry VIII. _Rolls House MS. _

[274] Pole to Henry VIII. _Rolls House MS. _

[275] BURNET, _Collectanea_, p. 429. 

[276] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 377. 

[277] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 436; _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 378. 

[278] It is not good to stir a hornet's nest. 

[279] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 431. 

[280] Ibid. P. 48. 

[281] Preface to LATIMER'S _Sermons_. Parker Society's edition, p. 3. 

[282] "King Harry loved a man, " was an English proverb to the close of thecentury. See SIR ROBERT NAUNTON'S _Fragmenta Regalia_, London, 1641, p. 14. 

[283] Sir George Throgmorton, who distinguished himself by his oppositionto the Reformation in the House of Commons. 

[284] BURNET'S _Collect_, p. 429. 

[285] _A Glasse of Truth. _

[286] Ibid. P. 144. 

[287] 35 Ed. I. ; 25 Ed. III. Stat. 4; stat. 5, cap. 22; 27 Ed. III. Stat. 1; 13 Ric. II. Stat. 2, cap. 2; 16 Ric. II. Cap. 5; 9 Hen. IV. Cap. 8. 

[288] CAVENDISH, p. 276. 

Gardiner has left some noticeable remarks on this subject. 

"Whether, " he says, "a king may command against a common law or an act ofparliament, there is never a judge or other man in the realm ought to knowmore by experience of that the laws have said than I. 

"First, my Lord Cardinal, that obtained his legacy by our late SovereignLord's requirements at Rome, yet, because it was against the laws of therealm, the judges concluded the offence of Premunire, which matter I bareaway, and took it for a law of the realm, because the lawyers said so, butmy reason digested it not. The lawyers, for confirmation of their doings, brought in the case of Lord Tiptoft. An earl he was, and learned in thecivil laws, who being chancellor, because in execution of the king'scommandment he offended the laws of the realm, suffered on Tower Hill. Theybrought in examples of many judges that had fines set on their heads inlike cases for transgression of laws by the king's commandment, and this Ilearned in that case. 

"Since that time being of the council, when many proclamations were devisedagainst the carriers out of corn, when it came to punish the offender, thejudges would answer it might not be by the law, because the Act ofParliament gave liberty, wheat being under a price. Whereupon at lastfollowed the Act of Proclamations, in the passing whereof were many largewords spoken. "

After mentioning other cases, he goes on:--

"I reasoned once in the parliament house, where there was free speechwithout danger, and the Lord Audely, to satisfy me, because I was in somesecret estimation, as he knew, 'Thou art a good fellow, Bishop, ' quoth he;'look at the Act of Supremacy, and there the king's doings be restrained tospiritual jurisdiction; and in another act no spiritual law shall haveplace contrary to a common law, or an act of parliament. And this werenot, ' quoth he, 'you bishops would enter in with the king, and by means ofhis supremacy order the laws as ye listed. But we will provide, ' quoth he, 'that the premunire shall never go off your heads. ' This I bare away then, and held my peace. "--Gardiner to the Protector Somerset: _MS. Harleian_, 417. 

[289] 13 Ric. II. Stat. 2, cap. 2. Et si le Roi envoie par lettre on enautre maniere a la Courte du Rome al excitacion dascune person, parount quela contrarie de cest estatut soit fait touchant ascune dignité de SainteEglise, si celuy qui fait tiel excitacion soit Prelate de Sainte Eglise, paie au Roy le value de ses temporalitees dun an. The petition ofparliament which occasioned the statute is even more emphatic: Perveuz toutfoitz que par nulle traite ou composition a faire entre le Seint Pere lePape et notre Seigneur le Roy que riens soit fait a contraire en prejudicede cest Estatute a faire. Et si ascune Seigneur Espirituel ou Temporel ouascune persone quiconque de qu'elle condition q'il soit, enforme, ensenceou excite le Roi ou ses heirs, l'anientiser, adnuller ou repeller cestEstatut a faire, et de ceo soit atteint par due proces du loy que leSeigneur Espirituel eit la peyne sus dite, etc. --_Rolls of Parliament_, Ric. II. 13. 

[290] Even further, as chancellor the particular duty had been assigned tohim of watching over the observance of the act. 

Et le chancellor que pur le temps serra a quelle heure que pleint a luy oua conseill le Roy soit fait d'ascunes des articles sus ditz par ascunepersone que pleindre soy voudra granta briefs sur le cas ou commissions afaire au covenables persones, d'oier et terminer les ditz articles surpeyne de perdre son office et jamais estre mys en office le Roy et perdremille livres a lever a l'oeps le Roy si de ce soit atteint par duproces. --_Rolls of Parliament_, Ric. II. 13. 

[291] BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 77. See a summary of the acts of thisConvocation in a sermon of Latimer's preached before the two Houses in1536. LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 45. 

[292] The king, considering what good might come of reading of the NewTestament and following the same; and what evil might come of the readingof the same if it were evil translated, and not followed; came into theStar Chamber the five-and-twentieth day of May; and then communed with hiscouncil and the prelates concerning the cause. And after long debating, itwas alleged that the translations of Tyndal and Joy were not trulytranslated, and also that in them were prologues and prefaces that soundedunto heresy, and railed against the bishops uncharitably. Wherefore allsuch books were prohibited, and commandment given by the king to thebishops, that they, calling to them the best learned men of theuniversities, should cause a new translation to be made, so that the peopleshould not be ignorant of the law of God. --HALL, p. 771. And see WARHAM'S_Register_ for the years 1529-1531. MS. Lambeth. 

[293] 22 Hen. VIII. Cap. 15. 

[294] BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 78. 

[295] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. 457. 

[296] Memoranda relating to the Clergy: _Rolls House MS. _

[297] BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 80. 

[298] The King's Highness, having always tender eyes with mercy and pityand compassion towards his spiritual subjects, minding of his high goodnessand great benignity so always to impart the same unto them, as justicebeing duly administered, all rigour be excluded; and the great benevolentminds of his said subjects [having been] largely and many times approvedtowards his Highness, and specially in their Convocation and Synod nowpresently being in the Chapter House of Westminster, his Highness, of hissaid benignity and high liberality, in consideration that the saidConvocation has given and granted unto him a subsidy of one hundredthousand pounds, is content to grant his general pardon to the clergy andthe province of Canterbury, for all offences against the statute andpremunire. --22 Hen. VIII. Cap. 15. 

[299] BURNET, vol. 1. P. 185. 

[300] An instance is reported in the Chronicle of the Grey Friars ten yearspreviously. The punishment was the same as that which was statutablyenacted in the case of Rouse. 

[301] HALL, p. 781. 

[302] Most shocking when the _wrong persons_ were made the victims; andbecause clerical officials were altogether incapable of detecting the_right persons_, the memory of the practice has become abhorrent to alljust men. I suppose, however, that, if the _right persons_ could have beendetected, even the stake itself would not have been too tremendous apenalty for the destroying of human souls. 

[303] 22 Hen. VIII. Cap. 10. 

[304] See a very curious pamphlet on this subject, by SIR FRANCIS PALGRAVE. It is called _The Confessions of Richard Bishop, Robert Seymour, and SirEdward Neville, before the Privy Council, touching Prophecie, Necromancy, and Treasure-trove_. 

[305] Miscellaneous Depositions on the State Of the Country: _Rolls HouseMS. _

[306] See the Preamble of the Bill against conjurations, witchcraft, sorceries, and enchantments. --33 Hen. VIII. Cap. 8. 

Also "the Bill touching Prophecies upon Arms and Badges. "--33 Hen. VIII. Cap. 14. 

A similar edict expelled the gipsies from Germany. At the Diet of Spires, June 10, 1544. 

Statutum est ne vagabundum hominum genus quos vulgo Saracenos vocant perGermaniam oberrare sinatur _usu enim compertum est eos exploratores etproditores esse. --State Papers_, vol. Ix. P. 705. 

[307] ELLIS, first series, vol. Ii. P. 101. 

[308] Bulla pro Johanne Scot, qui sine cibo et potu per centum et sex diesvixerat. --RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 176. 

[309] BUCHANAN, _History of Scotland_, vol. Ii. P. 156. 

[310] _Letter of Archbishop Cranmer. _--ELLIS, second series, vol. Ii. P. 314. 

[311] _Statutes of the Realm. _ 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[312] Extracts from a Narrative containing an Account of Elizabeth Barton:_Rolls House MS. _

[313] _Statutes of the Realm. _

[314] _Rolls House MS. _

[315] Ibid. 

[316] _Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 19. 

[317] Ibid. 

[318] Proceedings connected with Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _

[319] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[320] Ibid. 

[321] Ibid. 

[322] _Cranmer's Letter. _ ELLIS, third series, vol. Iii. P. 315. 

[323] More to Cromwell: BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 350. 

[324] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[325] Confessions of Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _ Sir Thomas Moregave her a double ducat to pray for him and his. BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 352. Moryson, in his _Apomaxis_, declares that she had a regularunderstanding with the confessors at the Priory. When penitents came toconfess, they were detained while a priest conveyed what they hadacknowledged to the Nun; and when afterwards they were admitted to herpresence, she amazed them with repeating their own confessions. 

[326] The said Elizabeth subtilly and craftily conceiving the opinion andmind of the said Edward Bocking, willing to please him, revealed and showedunto the said Edward that God was highly displeased with our said sovereignlord the king for this matter; and in case he desisted not from hisproceeding in the said divorce and separation, but pursued the same andmarried again, that then within one month after such marriage, he should nolonger be king of this realm; and in the reputation of Almighty God heshould not be a king one day nor one hour, and that he should die avillain's death. Saying further, that there was a root with three branches, and till they were plucked up it should never be merry in England:interpreting the root to be the late lord cardinal, and the first branch tobe the king our sovereign lord, the second the Duke of Norfolk, and thethird the Duke of Suffolk. --25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[327] Revelations of Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _ In the epitome ofthe book of her Revelations it is stated that there was a story in it "ofan angel that appeared, and bade the Nun go unto the king, that infidelprince of England, and say that I command him to amend his life, and thathe leave three things which he loveth and pondereth upon, _i. E. _, that hetake none of the pope's right nor patrimony from him; the second that hedestroy all these new folks of opinion and the works of their new learning;the third, that if he married and took Anne to wife, the vengeance of Godshould plague him; and as she sayth she shewed this unto the king. "--Paperon the Nun of Kent: _MS. Cotton, Cleopatra_, E 4. 

[328] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 137. Warham had promised to marryHenry to Anne Boleyn. The Nun frightened him into a refusal by a pretendedmessage from an angel. --_MS. _ ibid. 

[329] The Nun hath practised with two of the pope's ambassadors within thisrealm, and hath sent to the pope that if he did not do his duty inreformation of kings, God would destroy him at a certain day which he hadappointed. By reason whereof it is supposed that the pope hath showedhimself so double and so deceivable to the King's Grace in his great causeof marriage as he hath done, contrary to all truth, justice, and equity. Aslikewise the late cardinal of England, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, being very well-minded to further and set at an end the marriage which theKing's Grace now enjoyeth, according to their spiritual duty, wereprevented by the false revelations of the said Nun. And that the saidBishop of Canterbury was so minded may be proved by divers which knew thenhis towardness. --Narrative of the Proceedings of Elizabeth Barton: _RollsHouse MS. _

[330] Note of the Revelations of Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _

[331] HALL, p. 780. 

[332] RYMER, vol. Vi. P. 160. We are left to collateral evidence to fix theplace of this petition, the official transcriber having contented himselfwith the substance, and omitted the date. The original, as appears from thepope's reply (LORD HERBERT, p. 145), bore the date of July 13; and unless amistake was made in transcribing the papal brief, this was July, 1530. Ihave ventured to assume a mistake, and to place the petition in thefollowing year, because the judgment of the universities, to which itrefers, was not completed till the winter of 1530; they were not read inparliament till March 30, 1531; and it seems unlikely that a petition of sogreat moment would have been presented on an incomplete case, or before theadditional support of the House of Commons had been secured. I am far fromsatisfied, however, that I am right in making the change. The petition musthave been drawn up (though it need not have been presented) in 1530; sinceit bears the signature of Wolsey, who died in the November of that year. 

[333] Mademoiselle de Boleyn est venue; et l'a le Roy logée en fort beaulogis; et qu'il a faict bien accoustrer tout auprés du sien. Et luy est lacour faicte ordinairement tous les jours plus grosse que de long temps ellene fut faicte a la Royne. Je crois bien qu'on veult accoutumer par lespetie ce peuple à l'endurer, afin que quand ivendra à donner les grandscoups, il ne les trouve si estrange. Toutefois il demeure tous joursendurcy, et croy bien qu'il feroit plus qu'il ne faict si plus il avoit depuissance; mais grand ordre se donne par tout. --Bishop of Bayonne to theGrand Master: LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 231. 

[334] HALL, p. 781. 

[335] It seems to have been his favourite place of retirement. The gardensand fishponds were peculiarly elaborate and beautiful. --Sir John Russell toCromwell: _MS. State Paper Office. _

[336] Also it is a proverb of old date--"The pride of France, the treasonof England, and the war of Ireland, shall never have end. " _State Papers_, vol. Ii. P. 11

[337] There was a secret ambassador with the Scots king from the emperour, who had long communicated with the king alone in his privy chamber. Andafter the ambassador's departure the king, coming out into his outerchamber, said to his chancellor and the Earl Bothwell, "My lords, how muchare we bounden unto the emperour that in the matter concerning our style, which so long he hath set about for our honour, that shall be by himdiscussed on Easter day, and that we may lawfully write ourself Prince ofEngland and Duke of York. " To which the chancellor said, "I pray God thepope confirm the same. " The Scots king answered, "Let the emperouralone. "--Earl of Northumberland to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Iv. P. 599. 

[338] HALL, p. 783. 

[339] "The bishop was brought in desperation of his life. "--_Rolls HouseMS. _, second series, 532. This paper confirms Hall's account in everypoint. 

[340] HALL, p. 796. 

[341] BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 115. 

[342] Warham was however fined £300 for it. --HALL, 796. A letter of RichardTracy, son of the dead man, is in the _MS. State Paper Office_, firstseries, vol. Iv. He says the King's Majesty had committed the investigationof the matter to Cromwell. 

[343] LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 46. 

[344] Cap. Iii. 

[345] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 1. 

[346] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 9. 

[347] Be it further enacted that no archbishop or bishop, official, commissary, or any other minister, having spiritual jurisdiction, shallask, demand, or receive of any of the king's subjects any sum or sums ofmoney for the seal of any citizen, but only threepence sterling. --23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 9. 

[348] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 10. --By a separate clause all covenants to defraudthe purposes of this act were declared void, and the act itself was to beinterpreted "as beneficially as might be, to the destruction and utteravoiding of such uses, intents, and purposes. "

[349] Annates or firstfruits were first suffered to be taken within therealm for the only defence of Christian people against infidels; and nowthey be claimed and demanded as mere duty only for lucre, against all rightand conscience. --23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 20. 

[350] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 20. 

[351] It hath happened many times by occasion of death unto archbishops orbishops newly promoted within two or three years after their consecration, that their friends by whom they have been holpen to make payment have beenutterly undone and impoverished. --23 Henry VIII. Cap. 20. 

[352] _M. De la Pomeroy to Cardinal Tournon. _

"London, March 23, 1531-2. 

"My Lord, --I sent two letters to your lordship on the 20th of this month. Since that day Parliament has been prorogued, and will not meet again tillafter Easter. 

"It has been determined that the Pope's Holiness shall receive no moreannates, and the collectors' office is to be abolished. Everything isturning against the Holy See, but the King has shown no little skill; theLords and Commons have left the final decision of the question at hispersonal pleasure, and the Pope is to understand that, if he will donothing for the King, the King has the means of making him suffer. Theclergy in convocation have consented to nothing, nor will they, till theyknow the pleasure of their master the Holy Father; but the other estatesbeing agreed, the refusal of the clergy is treated as of no consequence. 

"Many other rights and privileges of the Church are abolished also, toonumerous to mention. "--MS. Bibliot. Impér. Paris. 

[353] STRYPE, _Eccles. Mem. _, vol. I. Part 2, p. 158. 

[354] Ibid. 

[355] Sir George Throgmorton, Sir William Essex, Sir John Giffard, SirMarmaduke Constable, with many others, spoke and voted in opposition to thegovernment. They had a sort of club at the Queen's Head by Temple Bar, where they held discussions in secret, "and when we did commence, " saidThrogmorton, "we did bid the servants of the house go out, and likewise ourown servants, because we thought it not convenient that they should hear usspeak of such matters. "--Throgmorton to the King: _MS. State Paper Office. _

[356] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 20. 

[357] Printed in STRYPE, _Eccles. Mem. _, vol. I. P. 201. Strype, knowingnothing of the first answer, and perceiving in the second an allusion toone preceding, has supposed that this answer followed the third and last, and was in fact a retractation of it. All obscurity is removed when thethree replies are arranged in their legitimate order. 

[358] STRYPE, _Eccles. Mem. _, vol. I. P. 199, etc. 

[359] 23 Hen. VIII. Cap. 20. 

[360] STOW, p. 562. 

[361] "In connection with the Annates Act, the question of appeals to Romehad been discussed in the present session. Sir George Throgmorton hadspoken on the papal side, and in his subsequent confession he mentioned aremarkable interview which he had had with More. 

"After I had reasoned to the Bill of Appeals, " he said, "Sir Thomas More, then being chancellor, sent for me to come and speak with him in theparliament chamber. And when I came to him he was in a little chamberwithin the parliament chamber, where, as I remember, stood an altar, or athing like unto an altar, whereupon he did lean and, as I do think, thesame time the Bishop of Bath was talking with him. And then he said this tome, I am very glad to hear the good report that goeth of you, and that yebe so good a Catholic man as ye be. And if ye do continue in the same waythat ye begin, and be not afraid to say your conscience, ye shall deservegreat reward of God, and thanks of the King's Grace at length, and muchworship to yourself. "--Throgmorton to the King: _MS. State Paper Office_. 

[362] In part of it he speaks in his own person. Vide supra, cap. 3. 

[363] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 435. 

[364] Note of the Revelations of Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _

[365] It has been thought that the Tudor princes and their ministerscarried out the spy system to an iniquitous extent, --that it was the greatinstrument of their Machiavellian policy, introduced by Cromwell, andafterwards developed by Cecil and Walsingham. That both Cromwell andWalsingham availed themselves of secret information, is unquestionable, --asI think it is also unquestionable that they would have betrayed theinterests of their country if they had neglected to do so. Nothing, infact, except their skill in fighting treason with its own weapons, savedEngland from a repetition of the wars of the Roses, envenomed with theadditional fury of religious fanaticism. But the agents of Cromwell, atleast, were all volunteers;--their services were rather checked thanencouraged; and when I am told, by high authority, that in those times anaccusation was equivalent to a sentence of death, I am compelled to lay sosweeping a charge of injustice by the side of a document which forces me todemur to it. "In the reign of the Tudors, " says a very eminent writer, "thecommittal, arraignment, conviction, and execution of any state prisoner, accused or _suspected, or under suspicion of being suspected_ of hightreason, were only the regular terms in the series of judicialproceedings. " This is scarcely to be reconciled with the 10th of the 37thof Hen. VIII. , which shows no desire to welcome accusations, or exaggeratedreadiness to listen to them. 

"Whereas, " says that Act, "divers malicious and evil disposed persons oftheir perverse, cruel, and malicious intents, minding the utter undoing ofsome persons to whom they have and do bear malice, hatred, and evil will, have of late most devilishly practised and devised divers writings, whereinhath been comprised that the same persons to whom they bear malice shouldspeak traitorous words against the King's Majesty, his crown and dignity, or commit divers heinous and detestable treasons against the King'sHighness, where, in very deed, the persons so accused never spake norcommitted any such offence; by reason whereof divers of the king's true, faithful, and loving subjects have been put in fear and dread of theirlives and of the loss and forfeiture of their lands and chattels--forreformation hereof, be it enacted, that if any person or persons, of whatestate, degree, or condition he or they shall be, shall at any timehereafter devise, make, or write, or cause to be made any manner of writingcomprising that any person has spoken, committed, or done any offence oroffences which now by the laws of this realm be made treason, or thathereafter shall be made treason, and do not subscribe, or cause to besubscribed, his true name to the said writing, and within twelve days nextafter ensuing do not personally come before the king or his council, andaffirm the contents of the said writings to be true, and do as much as inhim shall be for the approvement of the same, that then all and everyperson or persons offending as aforesaid, shall be deemed and adjudged afelon or felons; and being lawfully convicted of such offence, after thelaws of the realm, shall suffer pains of death and loss and forfeiture oflands, goods, and chattels, without benefit of clergy or privilege ofsanctuary to be admitted or allowed in that behalf. "

[366] Accusation brought by Robert Wodehouse, Prior of Whitby, against theAbbot, for slanderous words against Anne Boleyn: _Rolls House MS. _

[367] Deposition of Robert Legate concerning the Language of the Monks ofFurness: _Rolls House MS. _

[368] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 254. 

[369] Father Forest hath laboured divers manner of ways to expulse FatherLaurence out of the convent, and his chief cause is, because he knoweththat Father Laurence will preach the king's matter whensoever it shallplease his Grace to command him. --Ibid. P. 250. 

[370] Ibid. P. 251. 

[371] Lyst to Cromwell. Ibid. P. 255. STRYPE, _Eccles. Memor. _, vol. I. Appendix, No. 47. 

[372] STOW'S _Annals_, p. 562. This expression passed into a proverb, although the words were first spoken by a poor friar; they were the lastwhich the good Sir Humfrey Gilbert was heard to utter before his ship wentdown. 

[373] Vaughan to Cromwell: _State Papers, _ vol. Vii. P. 489-90. "I learnthat this book was first drawn by the Bishop of Rochester, and so beingdrawn, was by the said bishop afterwards delivered in England to twoSpaniards, being secular and laymen. They receiving his first draught, either by themselves or some other Spaniards, altered and perfinished thesame into the form that it now is; Peto and one Friar Elstowe ofCanterbury, being the only men that have and do take upon themselves to beconveyers of the same books into England, and conveyers of all other thingsinto and out of England. If privy search be made, and shortly, peradventurein the house of the same bishop shall be found his first copy. Master Morehath sent oftentimes and lately books unto Peto, in Antwerp--as his book ofthe confutation of Tyndal, and of Frith's opinion of the sacrament, withdivers other books. I can no further learn of More's practices, but if youconsider this well, you may perchance espy his craft. Peto labourethbusylier than a bee in the setting forth of this book. He never ceasethrunning to and from the court here. The king never had in his realmtraitors like his friars--[Vaughan wrote "clergy. " The word in the originalis dashed through, and "friars" is substituted, whether by Cromwell or byhimself in an afterthought, I do not know]--and so I have always said, andyet do. Let his Grace look well about him, for they seek to devour him. They have blinded his Grace. "

[374] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 262, etc. 

[375] The wishes of the French Court had been expressed emphatically toClement in the preceding January. Original copies of the two followingletters are in the Bibliothèque Impérial at Paris:--

_The Cardinal of Lorraine to Cardinal ---- at Rome. _

"Paris, Jan. 8, 1531-2. 

"RIGHT REVEREND FATHER AND LORD IN CHRIST. --After our most humblecommendations--The King of England complains loudly that his cause is notremanded into his own country; he says that it cannot be equitably dealtwith at Rome, where he cannot be present. He himself, the Queen, and theother witnesses, are not to be dragged into Italy to give their evidence;and the suits of the Sovereigns of England and France have always hithertobeen determined in their respective countries. 

"Nevertheless, by no entreaty can we prevail on the Pope to nominateimpartial judges who will decide the question in England. 

"The King's personal indignation is not the only evil which has to befeared. When these proceedings are known among the people, there will, perhaps, be a revolt, and the Apostolic See may receive an injury whichwill not afterwards be easily remedied. 

"I have explained these things more at length to his Holiness, as my dutyrequires. Your affection towards him, my lord, I am assured is no less thanmine. I beseech you, therefore, use your best endeavours with his Holiness, that the King of England may no longer have occasion to exclaim againsthim. In so doing you will gratify the Most Christian King, and you willfollow the course most honourable to yourself and most favourable to thequiet of Christendom. 

"From Abbeville. "

_Francis the First to Pope Clement the Seventh. _

"Paris, Jan. 10, 1531-2. 

"MOST HOLY FATHER, --You are not ignorant what our good brother and ally theKing of England demands at your hands. He requires that the cognisance ofhis marriage be remanded to his own realm, and that he be no furtherpressed to pursue the process at Rome. The place is inconvenient from itsdistance, and there are other good and reasonable objections which heassures us that he has urged upon your Holiness's consideration. 

"Most Holy Father, we have written several times to you, especially of latefrom St. Cloud, and afterwards from Chantilly, in our good brother'sbehalf; and we have further entreated you, through our ambassador residingat your Court, to put an end to this business as nearly according to thewishes of our said good brother as is compatible with the honour ofAlmighty God. We have made this request of you as well for the affectionand close alliance which exist between ourselves and our brother, as forthe filial love and duty with which we both in common regard your Holiness. 

"Seeing, nevertheless, Most Holy Father, that the affair in question isstill far from settlement, and knowing our good brother to be displeasedand dissatisfied, we fear that some great scandal and inconvenience mayarise at last which may cause the diminution of your Holiness's authority. There is no longer that ready obedience to the Holy See in England whichwas offered to your predecessors; and yet your Holiness persists in citingmy good brother the King of England to plead his cause before you in Rome. Surely it is not without cause that he calls such treatment of himunreasonable. We have ourselves examined into the law in this matter, andwe are assured that your Holiness's claim is unjust and contrary to theprivilege of kings. For a sovereign to leave his realm and plead as asuitor in Rome, is a thing wholly impossible, [377] and therefore, HolyFather, we have thought good to address you once more in this matter. Bearwith us, we entreat you. Consider our words, and recall to your memory whatby letter and through our ministers we have urged upon you. Look promptlyto our brother's matter, and so act that your Holiness may be seen to valueand esteem our friendship. What you do for him, or what you do against him, we shall take it as done to ourselves. 

"Holy Father, we will pray the Son of God to pardon and long preserve yourHoliness to rule and govern our Holy Mother the Church. --FRANCIS. "

[376] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 428. LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[377] Chose beaucoup plus impossible que possible. 

[378] LORD HERBERT, p. 160. RYMER, vol. Vi. Part ii. P. 171. 

[379] Francis seems to have desired that the intention of the interviewshould be kept secret. Henry found this impossible. "Monseigneur, " wrotethe Bishop of Paris to the Grand Master, "quant à tenir la chose secrettecomme vous le demandez, il est mal aisé; combien que ce Roy fust bien decest advis, sinon qu'il le treuve impossible; car a cause de ces provisionset choses, qu'il fault faire en ce Royaulme, incontinent sera sceu aLondres, et de la par tout le monde. Pourquoy ne faictes vostre comptequ'on le puisse tenir secret. 

"Monseigneur, je sçay veritablement et de bon lieu que le plus grantplaisir que le Roy pourroit faire au Roy son frere et a Madame Anne, c'estque le dit seigneur m'escripre que je requiere le Roy son dit frere qu'ilveuille mener la dicte Dame Anne avec luy a Callais pour la veoir et pourla festoyer, afin qu'ils ne demeurrent ensembles sans compagnie de dames, pour ce que les bonnes cheres en sont tous jours meilleures: mais ilfauldroit que en pareil le Roy menast la Royne de Navarre à Boulogne, pourfestoyer le Roy d'Angleterre. 

"Quant à la Royne pour rien ce Roy ne vouldroit qu'elle vint: Il häit cesthabillement à l'Espagnolle, tant qu'il luy semble veoir un diable. Ildesireroit qu'il pleust au Roy mener à Boulogne, messeigneurs ses enfanspour les veoir. 

"Surtout je vous prie que vous ostez de la court deux sortes de gens, ceulxqui sont imperiaulx, s'aucuns en y a, et ceux qui ont la reputation d'estremocqueurs et gaudisseurs, car c'est bien la chose en ce monde autant häiede ceste nation. "--Bishop of Paris to the Grand Master: LEGRAND, vol. Iii. Pp. 555, 556. 

[380] Sir Gregory Cassalis to Henry VIII. : BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 433. Valde existimabam necessarium cum hoc Principe (_i. E. _, Francis) agere utduobus Cardinalibus daret in mandatis ut ante omnes Cardinalis de Montememinissent, eique pensionem annuam saltem trium millium aureorum exquadraginta millibus quæ mihi dixerat velle in Cardinales distribuere, assignaret. Et Rex quidem hæc etiam scribi ad duos Cardinales jussitsecretario Vitandri. Quicum ego postmodo super iis pensionibus sermonemhabui, cognovique sic in animo Regem habere ut duo Cardinales cum Romæfuerint, videant, qui potissimum digni hâc Regiâ sint liberalitate; ineosque quum quid in Regno Galliæ ecclesiasticum vacare contigerit exmeritis uniuscujusque pensiones conferantur. Tunc autem nihil in promptuhaberi quod Cardinali de Monte dari possit--verum Regio nomine illi defuturo esse promittendum quod mihi certe summopere displicuit; etsecretario Vitandri non reticui ostendens pollicitationes hujusmodi centiesjam Cardinali de Monte factas fuisse; et modo si iterum fiant nihileffecturas nisi ut illius viri quasi ulcera pertractent; id quod Vitandrisverum esse fatebatur pollicitusque est se, quum Rex a venatu rediissetvelle ei suadere ut Cardinalem de Monte aliquâ presenti pensioneprosequatur; quâ quidem tibi nihil conducibilius aut opportunius fieripossit. 

[381] _State Papers_, vol. Iv. P. 612. 

[382] Ibid, p. 616. 

[383] The _State Papers_ contain a piteous picture of this business, thehereditary feuds of centuries bursting out on the first symptoms ofill-will between the two governments, with fire and devastation. --_StatePapers_, vol. Iv. P. 620-644. 

[384] If the said Earl of Angus do make unto us oath of allegiance, andrecognises us as Supreme Lord of Scotland, and as his prince and sovereign, we then, the said earl doing the premises, by these presents bind ourselfto pay yearly to the said earl the sum of one thousand poundssterling. --Henry VIII. To the Earl of Angus: _State Papers_, vol. Iv. P. 613. 

[385] A letter of Queen Catherine to the Emperor, written on the occasionof this visit, will be read with interest:--

"HIGH AND MIGHTY LORD, --Although your Majesty is occupied with your ownaffairs and with your preparations against the Turk, I cannot, nevertheless, refrain from troubling you with mine, which perhaps insubstance and in the sight of God are of equal importance. Your Majestyknows well, that God hears those who do him service, and no greater servicecan be done than to procure an end in this business. It does not concernonly ourselves--it concerns equally all who fear God. None can measure thewoes which will fall on Christendom, if his Holiness will not act in it andact promptly. The signs are all around us in new printed books full of liesand dishonesty--in the resolution to proceed with the cause here inEngland--in the interview of these two princes, where the king, my lord, iscovering himself with infamy through the companion which he takes with him. The country is full of terror and scandal; and evil may be looked for ifnothing be done, and inasmuch as our only hope is in God's mercy, and inthe favour of your Majesty, for the discharge of my conscience, I must letyou know the strait in which I am placed. 

"I implore your Highness for the service of God, that you urge his Holinessto be prompt in bringing the cause to a conclusion. The longer the delaythe harder the remedy will be. 

"The particulars of what is passing here are so shocking, so outrageousagainst Almighty God, they touch so nearly the honour of my Lord andhusband, that for the love I bear him, and for the good that I desire forhim, I would not have your Highness know of them from me. Your ambassadorwill inform you of all. "--Queen Catherine to Charles V. September 18. --MS. Simancas. 

The Emperor, who was at Mantua, was disturbed at the meeting at Boulogne, on political grounds as well as personal. On the 24th of October he wroteto his sister, at Brussels. 

_Charles the Fifth to the Regent Mary. _

Mantua, October 16, 1532. 

I found your packets on arriving here, with the ambassadors' letters fromFrance and England. The ambassadors will themselves have informed you ofthe intended conference of the Kings. The results will make themselves feltere long. We must be on our guard, and I highly approve of your precautionsfor the protection of the frontiers. 

As to the report that the King of England means to take the opportunity ofthe meeting to marry Anne Boleyn, I can hardly believe that he will be soblind as to do so, or that the King of France will lend himself to theother's sensuality. At all events, however, I have written to my ministersat Rome, and I have instructed them to lay a complaint before the Pope, that, while the process is yet pending, in contempt of the authority of theChurch, the King of England is scandalously bringing over the said Annewith him, as if she were his wife. 

His Holiness and the Apostolic See will be the more inclined to do usjustice, and to provide as the case shall require. 

Should the King indeed venture the marriage--as I cannot think he will--Ihave desired his Holiness not only not to sanction such conduct openly, butnot to pass it by in silence. I have demanded that severe and fittingsentence be passed at once on an act so wicked and so derogatory to theApostolic See. --_The Pilgrim_, p. 89. 

[386] There can be little doubt of this. He was the child of the onlyintrigue of Henry VIII. Of which any credible evidence exists. His motherwas Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Blunt, an accomplished and mostinteresting person; and the offspring of the connection, one boy only, wasbrought up with the care and the state of a prince. Henry FitzRoy, as hewas called, was born in 1519, and when six years old was created Earl ofNottingham and Duke of Richmond and Somerset, the title of the king'sfather. 

In 1527, before the commencement of the disturbance on the divorce, Henryendeavoured to negotiate a marriage for him with a princess of the imperialblood; and in the first overtures gave an intimation which could not bemistaken, of his intention, if possible, to place him in the line of thesuccession. After speaking of the desire which was felt by the King ofEngland for some connection in marriage of the Houses of England and Spain, the ambassadors charged with the negotiation were to say to Charles, that--

"His Highness can be content to bestow the Duke of Richmond and Somerset(who is near of his blood, and of excellent qualities, and is alreadyfurnished to keep the state of a great prince, _and yet may be easily bythe king's means exalted to higher things_) to some noble princess of hisnear blood. "--ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 121. 

He was a gallant, high-spirited boy. A letter is extant from him to Wolsey, written when he was nine years old, begging the cardinal to intercede withthe king, "for an harness to exercise myself in arms according to myerudition in the Commentaries of Cæsar. "--Ibid. P. 119. 

He was brought up with Lord Surrey, who has left a beautiful account oftheir boyhood at Windsor--their tournaments, their hunts, their youngloves, and passionate friendship. Richmond married Surrey's sister, butdied the year after, when only seventeen; and Surrey revisiting Windsor, recalls his image among the scenes which they had enjoyed together, in themost interesting of all his poems. He speaks of

 The secret grove, which oft we made resound Of pleasant plaint and of our ladies' praise; Recording oft what grace each one had found, What hope of speed, what dread of long delays. The wild forest; the clothed holts with green; With reins availed, and swift y-breathed horse, With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between, Where we did chase the fearful hart of force. The void walls eke that harboured us each night, Wherewith, alas! reviveth in my breast The sweet accord, such sleeps as yet delight The pleasant dream, the quiet bed of rest; The secret thought imparted with such trust. The wanton talk, the divers change of play, The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just, Wherewith we past the winter nights away. 

[387] Compare LORD HERBERT with A Paper of Instructions to Lord Rochfort onhis Mission to Paris: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 427, etc. ; and ARemonstrance of Francis I. To Henry VIII. : LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 571, etc. It would be curious to know whether Francis ever actually wrote to the popea letter of which Henry sent him a draft. If he did, there are expressionscontained in it which amount to a threat of separation. In case the popewas obstinate Francis was to say, "Lors force seroit de pourvoir audictaffaire, par autres voyes et façons, qui peut etre, ne vous seroint gueresagreable. "--_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 436. 

[388] A nostre derniere entrevue sur la fraternelle et familierecommunication que nous eusmes ensemble de noz affaires venant aux nostres, Luy declarasmes comme a tord et injustment nous estions affligez, dilayez, et fort ingratemeut manniez et troublez, en nostre dicte grande et pesantematiere de marriage par la particuliere affection de l'empereur et du pape. Lesquelz sembloient par leurs longues retardations de nostre dicte matierene sercher autre chose, sinon par longue attente et laps de temps, nousfrustrer malicieusement du propoz, qui plus nous induict a poursuivir etmettre avant la dicte matiere; c'est davoir masculine succession etposterite en laquelle nous etablirons (Dieu voulant) le quiet repoz ettranquillite de notre royaulme et dominion. Son fraternel, plain, et entieradvis (et a bref dire le meilleur qui pourroit estre) fut tel; il nousconseilla de ne dilayer ne protractor le temps plus longuement, mais entoute celerite proceder effectuellement a laccomplisment et consummation denostre marriage. --Henry VIII. To Rochfort: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 428-9. 

[389] The extent of Francis's engagements, as Henry represents them, wasthis:--He had promised qu'en icelle nostre dicte cause jamais ne nousabandonneroit quelque chose que sen ensuyst; ainsi de tout son pouvoirl'establiroit, supporteroit, aideroit et maintiendroit notre bon droict, etle droict de la posterite et succession qui sen pourroit ensuyr; et a tousceulz qui y vouldroyent mettre trouble, empeschement, encombrance, ou yprocurer deshonneur, vitupere, ou infraction, il seroit enemy et adversairede tout son pouvoir, de quelconque estat qu'il soit, fust pape ouempereur, --avecque plusieurs autres consolatives paroles. This he wishedFrancis to commit to paper. Car autant de fois, que les verrions, he says, qui seroit tous les jours, nous ne pourrions, si non les liscent, imagineret reduire a notre souvenance la bonne grace facunde et geste, dont il lesnous prononçait, et estimer estre comme face a face, parlans avecqueluy. --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 437. Evidently language of so wide akind might admit of many interpretations. 

[390] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 571, etc. 

[391] Note of the Revelations of Eliz. Barton: _Rolls House MS. Suppressionof the Monasteries_, p. 17. 

The intention was really perhaps what the nun said. An agent of thegovernment at Brussels, who was watching the conference, reported on the12th of November:--"The King of England did really cross with the intentionof marrying; but, happily for the emperor, the ceremony is postponed. Ofother secrets, my informant has learned thus much. They have resolved todemand as the portion of the Queen of France, Artois, Tournay, and part ofBurgundy. They have also sent two cardinals to Rome to require the Pope torelinquish the tenths, which they have begun to levy for themselves. If hisHoliness refuse, the King of England will simply appropriate themthroughout his dominions. Captain ---- heard this from the king's proctorat Rome, who has been with him at Calais, and from an Italian namedJeronymo, whom the Lady Anne has roughly handled for managing her businessbadly. She trusted that she would have been married in September. 

"The proctor told her the Pope delayed sentence for fear of the Emperor. The two kings, when they heard this, despatched the cardinals to quickenhis movements; and the demand for the tenths is thought to have beeninvented to frighten him. 

"They are afraid that the Emperor may force his Holiness into givingsentence before the cardinals arrive. Jeronymo has been therefore sentforward by post to give him notice of their approach, and to require him tomake no decision till they have spoken with him. "--_The Pilgrim_, p. 89. 

[392] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[393] Revelations of Eliz. Barton: _Rolls House MS. _

[394] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 435, 468. 

[395] Letter from ----, containing an account of an interview with hisHoliness: _Rolls House MS. _

[396] This proposal was originally the king's (see chapter 2), but it hadbeen dropped because one of the conditions of it had been Catherine's"entrance into religion. " The pope, however, had not lost sight of thealternative, as one of which, in case of extremity, he might avail himself;and, in 1530, in a short interval of relaxation, he had definitely offeredthe king a dispensation to have two wives, at the instigation, curiously, of the imperialists. The following letter was written on that occasion tothe king by Sir Gregory Cassalis:--

Serenissime et potentissime domine rex, domine mi supreme humillimâcommendatione premissâ, salutem et felicitatem. Superioribus diebusPontifex secreto, veluti rem quam magni faceret, mihi proposuit conditionemhujusmodi; concedi posse vestræ majestati, ut duas uxores habeat; cui dixinolle me provinciam suscipere eâ de re scribendi, ob eam causam quodignorarem an inde vestræ conscientiæ satisfieri posset quam vestra majestasimprimis exonerare cupit. Cur autem sic responderem, illud in causâ fuit, quod ex certo loco, unde quæ Cæsariani moliantur aucupari soleo exploratumcertumque habebam Cæsarianos illud ipsum quærere et procurare. Quem vero adfinem id quærant pro certo exprimere non ausim. Id certe totum vestræprudentiæ considerandum relinquo. Et quamvis dixerim Pontifici, nihil me deeo scripturum, nolui tamen majestati vestræ hoc reticere; quæ sciat omni meindustriâ laborâsse in iis quæ nobis mandat exequendis et cum Anconitanoqui me familiariter uti solet, omnia sum conatus. De omnibus autem me adcommunes literas rejicio. Optime valeat vestra majestas. --Romæ die xviii. Septembris, 1530. 

Clarissimi vestrai Majestatis, Humillimus servus, GREGORIUS CASSALIS, --LORD HERBERT, p. 140. 

[397] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 394, etc. 

[398] The obtaining the opinion in writing of the late Cardinal of Ancona, and submitting it to the emperor. This minister, the most aged as well asthe most influential member of the conclave, had latterly been supposed tobe inclined to advise a conciliatory policy towards England; and hisjudgment was of so much weight that it was thought likely that the emperorwould have been unable to resist the publication of it, if it was givenagainst him. At the critical moment of the Bologna interview this cardinalunfortunately died: he had left his sentiments, however, in the hands ofhis nephew, the Cardinal of Ravenna, who, knowing the value of his legacy, was disposed to make a market of it. It was a knavish piece of business. The English ambassadors offered 3000 ducats; Charles bid them out of thefield with a promise of church benefices to the extent of 6000 ducats; hedid not know precisely the terms of the judgment, or even on which side itinclined, but in either case the purchase was of equal importance to him, either to produce it or to suppress it. The French and English ambassadorsthen combined, and bid again with church benefices in the two countries, ofequal value with those offered by Charles, with a promise of the nextEnglish bishopric which fell vacant, and the original 3000 ducats as aninitiatory fee. There was a difficulty in the transaction, for the cardinalwould not part with the paper till he had received the ducats, and theambassadors would not pay the ducats till they had possession of the paper. The Italian, however, proved an overmatch for his antagonists. He got hismoney, and the judgment was not produced after all. --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 397-8, 464. BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 108. 

[399] Bennet to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 402. 

[400] Sir Gregory Cassalis to the King: _Rolls House M. S. _, endorsed byHenry, Litteræ in Pontificis dicta declaratoriæ quæ maxime causam nostramprobant. 

[401] There was a tradition (it cannot be called more), that no Englishmancould be compelled against his will to plead at a foreign tribunal. "NeAngli extra Angliam litigare cogantur. "

[402] Henry VIII. To the Ambassadors with the Pope: _Rolls House M. S. _

[403] Ibid. 

[404] So at least the English government was at last convinced, as appearsin the circular to the clergy, printed in BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 447, etc. I try to believe, however, that the pope's conduct was rather weakthan treacherous. 

[405] So at least Cranmer says; but he was not present, nor was he at thetime informed that it was to take place. --ELLIS, first series, vol. Ii. P. 32. The belief, however, generally was, that the marriage took place inNovember; and though Cranmer's evidence is very strong, his language is toovague to be decisive. 

[406] Individual interests have to yield necessarily and justly to theinterests of a nation, provided the conduct or the sacrifice which thenation requires is not sinful. That there would have been any sin on QueenCatherine's part if she had consented to a separation from the king, wasnever pretended; and although it is a difficult and delicate matter todecide how far unwilling persons may be compelled to do what they ought tohave done without compulsion, yet the will of a single man or woman cannotbe allowed to constitute itself an irremovable obstacle to a great nationalgood. 

[407] It is printed by LORD HERBERT, and in LEGRAND, vol. Iii. 

[408] LEGRAND, vol. Iii. P. 558, etc. 

[409] Ye may show unto his Holiness that ye have heard from a friend ofyours in Flanders lately, that there hath been set up certain writings fromthe See Apostolic, in derogation both of justice and of the affectionlately showed by his Holiness unto us; which thing ye may say ye can hardlybelieve to be true, but that ye reckon them rather to be counterfeited. Forif it should be true, it is a thing too far out of the way, speciallyconsidering that you and other our ambassadors be there, and have heardnothing of the matter. We send a copy of these writings unto you, whichcopy we will in no wise that ye shall show to any person which might thinkthat ye had any knowledge from us nor any of our council, marvellinggreatly if the same hath proceeded indeed from the pope; [and] willing youexpressly not to show that ye had it of us. --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 421. 

[410] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 454. 

[411] Sir John Wallop to Henry: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 422. 

[412] Francis represented himself to Henry as having refused with a speciesof bravado. "He told me, " says Sir John Wallop, "that he had announcedpreviously that he would consent to no such interview, unless your Highnesswere also comprised in the same; and if it were so condescended that yourHighness and he should be then together, yet you two should go after such asort and with such power that you would not care whether the pope andemperor would have peace or else _coups de baston_. "--Wallop to Henry, fromParis, Feb. 22. But this was scarcely a complete account of thetransaction; it was an account only of so much of it as the French king waspleased to communicate. The emperor was urgent for a council. The pope, feeling the difficulty either of excluding or admitting the Protestantrepresentatives, was afraid of consenting to it, and equally afraid ofrefusing. The meeting proposed to Francis was for the discussion of thisdifficulty; and Francis, in return, proposed that the great Powers, Henryincluded, should hold an interview, and arrange beforehand the conclusionsat which the council should arrive. This naïve suggestion was waived byCharles, apparently on grounds of religion. LORD HERBERT, Kennet's Edit. P. 167. 

[413] The emperor's answer touching this interview is come, and is, ineffect, that if the pope shall judge the said interview to be for thewealth and quietness of Christendom, he will not be seen to dissuade hisHoliness from the same; but he desired him to remember what he showed tohis Holiness when he was with the same, at what time his Holiness offeredhimself for the commonwealth to go to any place to speak with the Frenchking. --Bennet to Henry VIII. ; _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 464. 

[414] The estrapade was an infernal machine introduced by Francis intoParis for the better correction of heresy. The offender was slung by achain over a fire, and by means of a crane was dipped up and down into theflame, the torture being thus prolonged for an indefinite time. Francis wasoccasionally present in person at these exhibitions, the executionerwaiting his arrival before commencing the spectacle. 

[415] 24 Hen. VIII. Cap. 13. 

[416] 24 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12

[417] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 441. 

[418] D'Inteville to Francis the First: MS. Bibliothèque Impérial, Paris--_Pilgrim_, p. 92. 

[419] 24 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[420] He had been selected as Warham's successor; and had been consecratedon the 30th of March, 1533. On the occasion of the ceremony when the usualoath to the Pope was presented to him, he took it with a declaration thathis first duty and first obedience was to the crown and laws of his owncountry. It is idle trifling, to build up, as too many writers haveattempted to do, a charge of insincerity upon an action which was forcedupon him by the existing relation between England and Rome. The Act ofAppeals was the law of the land. The separation from communion with thepapacy was a contingency which there was still a hope might be avoided. Such a protest as Cranmer made was therefore the easiest solution of thedifficulty. See it in STRYPE'S _Cranmer_, Appendix, p. 683. 

[421] BURNET, Vol. Iii. Pp. 122-3

[422] Bennet to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 402. Sir GregoryCassalis to the same: _Rolls House MS. _

[423] BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 123. 

[424] Ibid. Vol. I. P. 210. 

[425] See _State Papers_, vol. I. Pp. 415, 420, etc. 

[426] BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 22. It is very singular that in theoriginal Bull of Julius, the expression is "forsan consummavissetis;" whilein the brief, which, if it was genuine, was written the same day, andwhich, if forged, was forged by Catherine's friends, there is no forsan. The fact is stated absolutely. 

[427] LORD HERBERT, p. 163. BURNET. Vol. Iii. P. 123. 

[428] _State Papers_, vol. I. Pp. 390. 391. 

[429] Ye therefore duly recognising that it becometh you not, being oursubject, to enterprise any part of your said office in so weighty and greata cause pertaining to us being your prince and sovereign, without ourlicence obtained so to do; and therefore in your most humble wise yesupplicate us to grant unto you our licence to proceed. --_State Papers_, vol. I. P. 392. 

[430] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 392. 

[431] Cromwell to the King on his Committal to the Tower: BURNET, _Collectanea_, p. 500. 

[432] So at least she called him a few days later. --_State Papers_, vol. I. P. 420. We have no details of her words when she was summoned; but only ageneral account of them. --_State Papers_, vol. I. P. 394-5. 

[433] The words of the sentence may be interesting:--"In the name of God, Amen. We, Thomas, by Divine permission Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate ofall England, and Legate of the Apostolic See, in a certain cause of inquiryof and concerning the validity of the marriage contracted and consummatedbetween the most potent and most illustrious Prince, our Sovereign Lord, Henry VIII. , by the grace of God King of England and France, Defender ofthe Faith, and Lord of Ireland, and the most serene Princess, Catherine, daughter of his Most Catholic Majesty, Ferdinand, King of Spain, ofglorious memory, we proceeding according to law and justice in the saidcause which has been brought judicially before us in virtue of our office, and which for some time has lain under examination, as it still is, beingnot yet finally determined and decided; having first seen all the articlesand pleas which have been exhibited and set forth of her part, togetherwith the answers made thereto on the part of the most illustrious andpowerful Prince, Henry VIII. ; having likewise seen and diligently inspectedthe informations and depositions of many noblemen and other witnesses ofunsuspected veracity exhibited in the said cause; having also seen and inlike manner carefully considered not only the censures and decrees of themost famous universities of almost the whole Christian world, but likewisethe opinions and determinations both of the most eminent divines andcivilians, as also the resolutions and conclusions of the clergy of bothProvinces of England in Convocation assembled, and many other wholesomeinstructions and doctrines which have been given in and laid before usconcerning the said marriage; having further seen and in like mannerinspected all the treaties and leagues of peace and amity on this accountentered upon and concluded between Henry VII. , of immortal fame, late Kingof England, and the said Ferdinand, of glorious memory, late King of Spain;having besides seen and most carefully weighed all and every of the acts, debates, letters, processes, instruments, writs, arguments, and all otherthings which have passed and been transacted in the said cause at any time;in all which thus seen and inspected, our most exact care in examining, andour most mature deliberation in weighing them hath by us been used, and allother things have been observed by us, which of right in this matter wereto be observed; furthermore, the said most illustrious Prince, Henry VIII. , in the forementioned cause, by his proper Proctor having appeared beforeus, but the said most serene Lady Catherine in contempt absenting herself(whose absence we pray that the divine presence may compensate) [cujusabsentia Divinâ repleatur præsentiâ. Lord Herbert translates it, "whoseabsence may the Divine presence attend, " missing, I think, the point of theArchbishop's parenthesis] by and with the advice of the most learned in thelaw, and of persons of most eminent skill in divinity whom we haveconsulted in the premises, we have found it our duty to proceed to give ourfinal decree and sentence in the said cause, which, accordingly, we do inthis manner. 

"Because by acts, warrants, deductions, propositions, exhibitions, allegations, proofs and confessions, articles drawn up, answers ofwitnesses, depositions, informations, instruments, arguments, letters, writs, censures, determinations of professors, opinions, councils, assertions, affirmations, treaties, and leagues of peace, processes, andother matters in the said cause, as is above mentioned, before us laid, had, done, exhibited, and respectively produced, as also from the same andsundry other reasons, causes, and considerations, manifold arguments, andvarious kinds of proof of the greatest evidence, strength, and validity, ofwhich in the said cause we have fully and clearly informed ourselves, wefind, and with undeniable evidence and plainness see that the marriagecontracted and consummated, as is aforesaid, between the said mostillustrious Prince, Henry VIII. , and the most serene Lady Catherine, wasand is null and invalid, and that it was contracted and consummatedcontrary to the law of God: therefore, we, Thomas, Archbishop, Primate, andLegate aforesaid, having first called upon the name of Christ for directionherein, and having God altogether before our eyes, do pronounce sentence, and declare for the invalidity of the said marriage, decreeing that thesaid pretended marriage always was and still is null and invalid; that itwas contracted and consummated contrary to the will and law of God, that itis of no force or obligation, but that it always wanted, and still wants, the strength and sanction of law; and therefore we sentence that it is notlawful for the said most illustrious Prince, Henry VIII. , and the said mostserene Lady Catherine, to remain in the said pretended marriage; and we doseparate and divorce them one from the other, inasmuch as they contractedand consummated the said pretended marriage de facto, and not de jure; andthat they so separated and divorced are absolutely free from all marriagebond with regard to the foresaid pretended marriage, we pronounce, anddeclare by this our definitive sentence and final decree, which we nowgive, and by the tenour of these present writings do publish. May 23rd, 1533. "--BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 68, and LORD HERBERT. 

[434] HALL. 

[435] Ibid. 

[436] Ibid. P. 801. Hall was most likely an eye-witness, and may bethoroughly trusted in these descriptions. Whenever we are able to test him, which sometimes happens, by independent contemporary accounts, he provesfaithful in the most minute particulars. 

[437] FOXE, vol. V. P. III. 

[438] Northumberland to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Iv. Pp. 598-9. 

[439] Hawkins to Henry VIII. : Ibid. Vol. Vii. P. 488. 

[440] BURNET. Vol. Iii. P. 115. 

[441] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 398. 

[442] Papers relating to the Nun of Kent: _Rolls House MS. _

[443] ELLIS, first series, vol. Ii. P. 43. 

[444] _Cotton M. S. _ Otho X, p. 199. _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 397. 

[445] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 403. 

[446] Cromwell had endeavoured to save Frith, or at least had beeninterested for him. Sir Edmund Walsingham, writing to him about theprisoners in the Tower, says:--"Two of them wear irons, and Frith wearethnone. Although he lacketh irons, he lacketh not wit nor pleasant tongue. His learning passeth my judgment. Sir, as ye said, it were great pity tolose him if he may be reconciled. "--Walsingham to Cromwell: _M. S. StatePaper Office_, second series, vol. Xlvi. 

[447] ELLIS, first series, vol. Ii. P. 40. 

[448] "The natural body and blood of our Saviour Christ are in Heaven, andnot here, it being against the truth of Christ's natural body to be at onetime in more places than one. " The argument and the words in which it isexpressed were Frith's. --See FOXE, vol. V. P. 6. 

[449] The origin of the word Lollards has been always a disputed question. I conceive it to be from Lolium. They were the "tares" in the corn ofCatholicism. 

[450] 35 Ed. I. ; Statutes of Carlisle, cap. 1-4. 

[451] Ibid. 

[452] 25 Ed. III. Stat. 4. A clause in the preamble of this act bears asignificantly Erastian complexion: _come seinte Eglise estoit founde enestat de prelacie deins le royaulme Dengleterre par le dit Roi et sesprogenitours, et countes, barons, et nobles de ce Royaulme et loursancestres, pour eux et le poeple enfourmer de la lei Dieu. _ If the Churchof England was held to have been, founded not by the successors of theApostles, but by the king and the nobles, the claim of Henry VIII. To thesupremacy was precisely in the spirit of the constitution. 

[453] 38 Ed. III. Stat. 2; 3 Ric. II. Cap. 3; 12 Ric. II. Cap. 15; 13 Ric. II. Stat. 2. The first of these acts contains a paragraph which shifts theblame from the popes themselves to the officials of the Roman courts. Thestatute is said to have been enacted en eide et confort du pape qui moultsovent a estee trublez par tieles et semblables clamours et impetracions, et qui y meist voluntiers covenable remedie, si sa seyntetee estoit sur ceschoses enfournee. I had regarded this passage as a fiction of courtesy likethat of the Long Parliament who levied troops in the name of Charles I. Thesuspicious omission of the clause, however, in the translation of thestatutes which was made in the later years of Henry VIII. Justifies aninterpretation more favourable to the intentions of the popes. 

[454] The abbots and bishops decently protested. Their protest was read inparliament, and entered on the Rolls. _Rot. Parl. _ iii. [264] quoted byLingard, who has given a full account of these transactions. 

[455] 13 Ric. II. Stat. 2. 

[456] See 16 Ric. II. Cap. 5. 

[457] This it will be remembered was the course which was afterwardsfollowed by the parliament under Henry VIII. Before abolishing the paymentof first-fruits. 

[458] Lingard says, that "there were rumours that if the prelates executedthe decree of the king's courts, they would be excommunicated. "--Vol. Iii. P. 172. The language of the act of parliament, 16 Ric. II. Cap. 5, isexplicit that the sentence was pronounced. 

[459] 16 Ric. II. Cap. 5. 

[460] Ibid. 

[461] Ibid. 

[462] LEWIS, _Life of Wycliffe_. 

[463] If such _scientia media_ might be allowed to man, which is beneathcertainty and above conjecture, such should I call our persuasion that hewas born in Durham. --FULLER'S _Worthies_, vol. I. P. 479. 

[464] _The Last Age of the Church_ was written in 1356. See LEWIS, p. 3. 

[465] LELAND. 

[466] LEWIS, p. 287. 

[467] 1 Ric. II. Cap. 13. 

[468] WALSINGHAM, 206-7, apud LINGARD. It is to be observed, however, thatWycliffe himself limited his arguments strictly to the property of theclergy. See MILMAN'S _History of Latin Christianity_, vol. V. P. 508. 

[469] WALSINGHAM, p. 275, apud LINGARD. 

[470] 5 Ric. II. Cap. 5. 

[471] WILKINS, _Concilia_, iii. 160-167. 

[472] _De Heretico comburendo. _ 2 Hen. IV. Cap. 15. 

[473] STOW, 330, 338. 

[474] _Rot. Parl. _ iv. 24, 108, apud LINGARD; RYMER, ix. 89, 119, 129, 170, 193; MILMAN, Vol. V. P. 520-535. 

[475] 2 Hen. V. Stat. 1, cap. 7. 

[476] There is no better test of the popular opinion of a man than thecharacter assigned to him on the stage; and till the close of the sixteenthcentury Sir John Oldcastle remained the profligate buffoon of Englishcomedy. Whether in life he bore the character so assigned to him, I amunable to say. The popularity of Henry V. , and the splendour of his Frenchwars, served no doubt to colour all who had opposed him with a blackershade than they deserved: but it is almost certain that Shakspeare, thoughnot intending Falstaff as a portrait of Oldcastle, thought of him as he wasdesigning the character; and it is altogether certain that by the Londonpublic Falstaff was supposed to represent Oldcastle. We can hardly supposethat such an expression as "my old lad of the castle, " should beaccidental; and in the epilogue to the Second Part of _Henry the Fourth_, when promising to reintroduce Falstaff once more, Shakspeare says, "wherefor anything I know he shall die of the sweat, for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man. " He had, therefore, certainly been supposed to _bethe man_, and Falstaff represented the English conception of the characterof the Lollard hero. I should add, however, that Dean Milman, who hasexamined the records which remain to throw light on the character of thisremarkable person with elaborate care and ability, concludes emphaticallyin his favour. 

[477] Two curious letters of Henry VI. Upon the Lollards, written in 1431, are printed in the _Archæologia_, vol. Xxiii. P. 339, etc. "As Godknoweth, " he says of them, "never would they be subject to his laws nor toman's, but would be loose and free to rob, reve, and dispoil, slay anddestroy all men of thrift and worship, as they proposed to have done in ourfather's days; and of lads and lurdains would make lords. "

[478] Proceedings of an organised Society in London called the ChristianBrethren, supported by voluntary contributions, for the dispersion oftracts against the doctrines of the Church: _Rolls House MS. _

[479] HALE'S _Precedents_. The London and Lincoln Registers, in FOXE, vol. Iv. ; and the MS. Registers of Archbishops Morton and Warham, at Lambeth. 

[480] KNOX'S _History of the Reformation in Scotland_. 

[481] Also we object to you that divers times, and specially in RobertDurdant's house, of Iver Court, near unto Staines, you erroneously anddamnably read in a great book of heresy, all [one] night, certain chaptersof the Evangelists, in English, containing in them divers erroneous anddamnable opinions and conclusions of heresy, in the presence of diverssuspected persons. --Articles objected against Richard Butler--LondonRegister: FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 178. 

[482] FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 176. 

[483] MICHELET, _Life of Luther_, p. 71. 

[484] Ibid. 

[485] Ibid. P. 41. 

[486] WOOD'S _Athenæ Oxonienses_. 

[487] FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 618. 

[488] The suspicious eyes of the Bishops discovered Tyndal's visit, and theresult which was to be expected from it. 

On Dec. 2nd, 1525, Edward Lee, afterwards Archbishop of York, then king'salmoner, and on a mission into Spain, wrote from Bordeaux to warn Henry. The letter is instructive:

"Please your Highness to understand that I am certainly informed as Ipassed in this country, that an Englishman, your subject, at thesolicitation and instance of Luther, with whom he is, hath translated theNew Testament into English; and within few days intendeth to return withthe same imprinted into England. I need not to advertise your Grace whatinfection and danger may ensue hereby if it be not withstanded. This is thenext way to fulfil your realm with Lutherians. For all Luther's perverseopinions be grounded upon bare words of Scripture, not well taken, neunderstanded, which your Grace hath opened in sundry places of your royalbook. All our forefathers, governors of the Church of England, hath withall diligence forbid and eschewed publication of English Bibles, asappeareth in constitutions provincial of the Church of England. Nowe, sure, as God hath endued your Grace with Christian courage to sett forth thestandard against these Philistines and to vanquish them, so I doubt not butthat he will assist your Grace to prosecute and perform the same--that is, to undertread them that they shall not now lift up their heads; which theyendeavour by means of English Bibles. They know what hurt such books hathdone in your realm in times past. "--Edward Lee to Henry VIII. : ELLIS, thirdseries, vol. Ii. P. 71. 

[489] Answer of the Bishops: _Rolls House MS. _ See cap. 3. 

[490] Answer of the Bishops, vol. I. Cap. 3. 

[491] See, particularly, _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 302. 

[492] Proceedings of the Christian Brethren: _Rolls House MS. _

[493] See the letter of Bishop Fox to Wolsey: STRYPE'S _Memorials_, vol. I. Appendix. 

[494] Particulars of Persons who had dispersed Anabaptist and LutheranTracts: _Rolls House MS. _

[495] Dr. Taylor to Wolsey: _Rolls House MS. _ Clark to Wolsey: _StatePapers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 80, 81. 

[496] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 189. 

[497] Memoirs of Latimer prefixed to _Sermons_, pp. 3, 4; and see STRYPE'S_Memorials_, vol. I. 

[498] FOXE, vol. V. P. 416. 

[499] Tunstall, Bishop of London, has had the credit hitherto of thisingenious folly, the effect of which, as Sir Thomas More warned him, couldonly be to supply Tyndal with money. --HALL, 762, 763. The following letterfrom the Bishop of Norwich to Warham shows that Tunstall was only acting incanonical obedience to the resolution of his metropolitan:--

"In right humble manner I commend me unto your good Lordship, doing thesame to understand that I lately received your letters, dated at your manorof Lambeth, the 26th day of the month of May, by the which I do perceivethat your Grace hath lately gotten into your hands all the books of the NewTestament, translated into English, and printed beyond the sea; as wellthose with the glosses joined unto them as those without the glosses. 

"Surely, in myn opinion, you have done therein a gracious and a blesseddeed; and God, I doubt not, shall highly reward you therefore. And when, inyour said letters, ye write that, insomuch as this matter and the dangerthereof, if remedy had not been provided, should not only have touched you, but all the bishops within your province; and that it is no reason that theholle charge and cost thereof should rest only in you; but that they andevery of them, for their part, should advance and contribute certain sumsof money towards the same: I for my part will be contented to advance inthis behalf, and to make payment thereof unto your servant, Master WilliamPotkyn. 

"Pleaseth it you to understand, I am well contented to give and advance inthis behalf ten marks, and shall cause the same to be delivered shortly;the which sum I think sufficient for my part, if every bishop within yourprovince make like contribution, after the rate and substance of theirbenefices. Nevertheless, if your Grace think this sum not sufficient for mypart in this matter, your further pleasure known, I shall be as glad toconform myself thereunto in this, or any other matter concerning thechurch, as any your subject within your province; as knows Almighty God, who long preserve you. At Hoxne in Suffolk, the 14th day of June, 1527. Your humble obedience and bedeman, "R. NORWICEN. "

[500] FOXE, vol. Iv. 

[501] The papal bull, and the king's licence to proceed upon it, areprinted in _Rymer_, vol. Vi. Part ii. Pp. 8 and 17. The latter is expliciton Wolsey's personal liberality in establishing this foundation. Ultro etex propriâ liberalitate et munificentiâ, nec sine gravissimo suo sumptu etimpensis, collegium fundare conatur. 

[502] Would God my Lord his Grace had never been motioned to call anyCambridge man to his most towardly college. It were a gracious deed if theywere tried and purged and restored unto their mother from whence they came, if they be worthy to come thither again. We were clear without blot orsuspicion till they came, and some of them, as Master Dean hath known along time, hath had a shrewd name. --Dr. London to Archbishop Warham: _RollsHouse MS. _

[503] Dr. London to Warham: _Rolls House MS. _

[504] DALABER'S _Narrative. _

[505] Clark seems to have taken pupils in the long vacation. Dalaber atleast read with him all one summer in the country. --Dr. London to Warham:_Rolls House MS. _

[506] The Vicar of Bristol to the Master of Lincoln College, Oxford: _RollsHouse MS. _

[507] Dr. London to Warham: _Rolls House MS. _

[508] Radley himself was one of the singers at Christchurch: London toWarham. _MS. _

[509] Dr. London to Warham: _Rolls House MS. _

[510] On the site of the present Worcester College. It lay beyond the wallsof the town, and was then some distance from it across the fields. 

[511] Christchurch, where Dalaber occasionally sung in the quire. Videinfra. 

[512] Some part of which let us read with him. "I send you forth as sheepin the midst of wolves; be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless asdoves. But beware of men, for they will deliver you up to the councils, andthey will scourge you in their synagogues; and ye shall be brought beforegovernors and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them and thegentiles. But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what yeshall speak, for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shallspeak; for it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father whichspeaketh in you. And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death; andthe father the child; and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for myname's sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved. Whosoevershall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father whichis in heaven. Whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also denybefore my Father which is in heaven. Think not that I am come to send peaceon earth; I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a manat variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, andthe daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a man's foes shall bethey of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me isnot worthy of me. He that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthyof me. He that taketh not his cross and followeth after me is not worthy ofme. He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he that loseth his life formy sake shall find it. "

[513] Rector of Lincoln. 

[514] Warden of New College. 

[515] The last prayer. 

[516] Dr. Maitland, who has an indifferent opinion of the earlyProtestants, especially on the point of veracity, brings forward thisassertion of Dalaber as an illustration of what he considers theirrecklessness. It seems obvious, however, that a falsehood of this kind issomething different in kind from what we commonly mean by unveracity, andhas no affinity with it. I do not see my way to a conclusion; but I amsatisfied that Dr. Maitland's strictures are unjust. If Garret was taken, he was in danger of a cruel death, and his escape could only be madepossible by throwing the bloodhounds off the scent. A refusal to answerwould not have been sufficient; and the general laws by which our conductis ordinarily to be directed, cannot be made so universal in theirapplication as to meet all contingencies. It is a law that we may notstrike or kill other men, but occasions rise in which we may innocently doboth. I may kill a man in defence of my own life or my friend's life, oreven of my friend's property; and surely the circumstances which dispensewith obedience to one law may dispense equally with obedience to another. _If_ I may kill a man to prevent him from robbing my friend, why may I notdeceive a man to save my friend from being barbarously murdered? It ispossible that the highest morality would forbid me to do either. I amunable to see why, if the first be permissible, the second should be acrime. Rahab of Jericho did the same thing which Dalaber did, and on thatvery ground was placed in the catalogue of saints. 

[517] A cell in the Tower, the nature of which we need not inquire into. 

[518] FOXE, vol. V. P. 421. 

[519] Dr. London to the Bishop of Lincoln: _Rolls House MS. _

[520] Ibid. 

[521] Dr. Forman, rector of All Hallows, who had himself been in troublefor heterodoxy. 

[522] Dr. London to the Bishop of Lincoln, Feb. 20, 1528: _Rolls House MS. _

[523] Now Cokethorpe Park, three miles from Stanton Harcourt, and abouttwelve from Oxford. The village has disappeared. 

[524] Vicar of All Saints, Bristol, to the Rector of Lincoln: _Rolls HouseMS. _

[525] The Vicar of All Saints to the Rector of Lincoln: _Rolls House MS. _

[526] Dr. London to the Bishop of Lincoln: _Rolls House MS. _

[527] Long extracts from it are printed in FOXE, vol. Iv. 

[528] Another of the brethren, afterwards Bishop of St. David's, and one ofthe Marian victims. 

[529] Bishop of Lincoln to Wolsey, March 5, 1527-8: _Rolls House MS. _: andsee ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 77. 

[530] ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 77. 

[531] With some others he "was cast into a prison where the saltfish lay, through the stink whereof the most part of them were infected; and the saidClark, being a tender young man, died in the same prison. "--FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 615. 

[532] London to Warham: _Rolls House MS. _

[533] Petition of the Commons, vol. I. Cap. 3. 

[534] Ibid. And, as we saw in the bishops' reply, they considered theirpractice in these respects wholly defensible. --See _Reply of the Bishops_, cap. 3. 

[535] Petition of the Commons, cap. 3. 

[536] Hen. V. Stat. 1. 

[537] He had been "troublesome to heretics, " he said, and he had "done itwith a little ambition;" for "he so hated this kind of men, that he wouldfie the sorest enemy that they could have, if they would notrepent. "--MORE'S _Life of More_, p. 211. 

[538] See FOXE:, vol. Iv. Pp. 689, 698, 705. 

[539] 2 Hen. V. Stat. 1. 

[540] John Stokesley. 

[541] Petition of Thomas Philips to the House of Commons: _Rolls House MS. _

[542] Ibid. 

[543] FOXE, vol. V. Pp. 29, 30. 

[544] The circumstances are curious. Philips begged that he might have thebenefit of the king's writ of corpus cum causâ, and be brought to the barof the House of Commons, where the Bishop of London should be subpoenaed tomeet him. [Petition of Thomas Philips: _Rolls House MS. _] The Commons didnot venture on so strong a measure; but a digest of the petition was sentto the Upper House, that the bishop might have an opportunity of reply. TheLords refused to receive or consider the case: they replied that it was too"frivolous an affair" for so grave an assembly, and that they could notdiscuss it. [_Lords' Journals_, vol. I. P. 66. ] A deputation of the Commonsthen waited privately upon the bishop, and being of course anxious toascertain whether Philips had given a true version of what had passed, theybegged him to give some written explanation of his conduct, which might beread in the Commons' House. [_Lords' Journals_, vol. I. P. 71. ] The requestwas reasonable, and we cannot doubt that, if explanation had been possible, the bishop would not have failed to offer it; but he preferred to shieldhimself behind the judgment of the Lords. The Lords, he said, had decidedthat the matter was too frivolous for their own consideration; and withouttheir permission, he might not set a precedent of responsibility to theCommons by answering their questions. 

This conduct met with the unanimous approval of the Peers. [_Lords'Journals_, vol. I. P. 71. Omnes proceres tam spirituales quam temporalesunâ, voce dicebant, quod non consentaneum fuit aliquem procerum prædictorumalicui in eo loco responsurum. ] The demand for explanation was treated as abreach of privilege, and the bishop was allowed to remain silent. But thetime was passed for conduct of this kind to be allowed to triumph. If thebishop could not or would not justify himself, his victim might at least bereleased from unjust imprisonment. The case was referred to the king: andby the king and the House of Commons Philips was set at liberty. 

[545] Petition of John Field: _Rolls House MS. _

[546] Jan. 1529-30. 

[547] Illegal. See 2 Hen. V. Stat. 1. 

[548] Seventh Sermon before King Edward. First Sermon before the Duchess ofSuffolk. 

[549] FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 649. 

[550] Articles against James Bainham: FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 703. 

[551] FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 702. 

[552] Ibid. Vol. Iv. P. 705. 

[553] Ibid. Vol. Iv. P. 694. 

[554] HALL, p. 806; and see FOXE, vol iv. P. 705. 

[555] Instructions given by the Bishop of Salisbury: BURNET'S_Collectanea_, p. 493. 

[556] From a Letter of Robert Gardiner: FOXE, vol. Iv. P. 706. 

[557] LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 101. 

[558] Latimer speaks of sons and daughters. --Ibid. P. 101. 

[559] Ibid. 

[560] Where the Cornish rebels came to an end in 1497. --BACON'S _History ofHenry the Seventh_. 

[561] LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 197. 

[562] On which occasion, old relations perhaps shook their heads, and madeobjection to the expense. Some such feeling is indicated in the followingglimpse behind the veil of Latimer's private history:--

"I was once called to one of my kinsfolk, " he says ("it was at that timewhen I had taken my degree at Cambridge); I was called, I say, to one of mykinsfolk which was very sick, and died immediately after my coming. Now, there was an old cousin of mine, which, after the man was dead, gave me awax candle in my hand, and commanded me to make certain crosses over himthat was dead; for she thought the devil should run away by and bye. Now, Itook the candle, but I could not cross him as she would have me to do; forI had never seen it before. She, perceiving I could not do it, with greatanger took the candle out of my hand, saying, 'It is pity that thy fatherspendeth so much money upon thee;' and so she took the candle, and crossedand blessed him; so that he was sure enough. "--LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 499. 

[563] "I was as obstinate a papist as any was in England, insomuch that, when I should be made Bachelor of Divinity, my whole oration went againstPhilip Melancthon and his opinions. "--LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 334. 

[564] _Jewel of Joy_, p. 224, et seq. : Parker Society's edition. LATIMER'S_Sermons_, p. 3. 

[565] LATIMER'S _Remains_, pp. 27-31. 

[566] Ibid. Pp. 308-9. 

[567] LATIMER to Sir Edward Baynton: _Letters_, p. 329. 

[568] _Letters_, p. 323. 

[569] He thought of going abroad. "I have trust that God will help me, " hewrote to a friend; "if I had not, I think the ocean sea should have dividedmy Lord of London and me by this day. "--_Remains_, p. 334. 

[570] Latimer to Sir Edward Baynton. 

[571] See Latimer's two letters to Sir Edward Baynton: _Remains_, pp. 322-351. 

[572] "As ye say, the matter is weighty, and ought substantially to belooked upon, even as weighty as my life is worth; but how to looksubstantially upon it otherwise know not I, than to pray my Lord God, dayand night, that, as he hath emboldened me to preach his truth, so he willstrengthen me to suffer for it. 

"I pray you pardon me that I write no more distinctly, for my head is [so]out of frame, that it would be too painful for me to write it again. If Ibe not prevented shortly, I intend to make merry with my parishioners, thisChristmas, for all the sorrow, _lest perchance I never return to themagain_; and I have heard say that a doe is as good in winter as a buck insummer. "--Latimer to Sir Edward Baynton, p. 334. 

[573] LATIMER'S _Remains_, p. 334. 

[574] Ibid. P. 350. 

[575] "I pray you, in God's name, what did you, so great fathers, so many, so long season, so oft assembled together? What went you about? What wouldye have brought to pass? Two things taken away--the one that ye (which Iheard) burned a dead man, --the other, that ye (which I felt) went about toburn one being alive. Take away these two noble acts, and there is nothingelse left that ye went about that I know, " etc. , etc. --Sermon preachedbefore the Convocation: LATIMER'S _Sermons_, p. 46. 

[576] "My affair had some bounds assigned to it by him who sent for me up, but is now protracted by intricate and wily examinations, as if it wouldnever find a period; while sometimes one person, sometimes another, ask mequestions, without limit and without end. "--Latimer to the Archbishop ofCanterbury: _Remains_, p. 352. 

[577] _Remains_, p. 222. 

[578] _Sermons_, p. 294. 

[579] The process lasted through January, February, and March. 

[580] _Sermons_, p. 294. 

[581] He subscribed all except two--one apparently on the power of thepope, the other I am unable to conjecture. Compare the Articlesthemselves--printed in LATIMER'S _Remains_, p. 466--with the Sermon beforethe Convocation. --_Sermons_, p. 46; and BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 116. 

[582] Nicholas Glossop to Cromwell: ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 237. 

[583] Where he was known among the English of the day as Master Frisky-all. 

[584] See FOXE. Vol. V. P. 392. 

[585] Eustace Chappuys to Chancellor Granvelle: _MS. Archiv. Brussels:Pilgrim_, p. 106. 

[586] See Cromwell's will in an appendix to this chapter. This document, lately found in the Rolls House, furnishes a clue at last to theconnections of the Cromwell family. 

[587] Are we to believe Foxe's story that Cromwell was with the Duke ofBourbon at the storming of Rome in May, 1527? See FOXE, vol. V. P. 365. Hewas with Wolsey in January, 1527. See ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 117. And he was again with him early in 1528. Is it likely that he was in Italyon such an occasion in the interval? Foxe speaks of it as one of the randomexploits of Cromwell's youth, which is obviously untrue; and the naturalimpression which we gather is, that he was confusing the expedition of theDuke of Bourbon with some earlier campaign. On the other hand Foxe'sauthority was Cranmer, who was likely to know the truth; and it is notimpossible that, in the critical state of Italian politics, the Englishgovernment might have desired to have some confidential agent in the Dukeof Bourbon's camp. Cromwell, with his knowledge of Italy and Italian, andhis adventurous ability, was a likely man to have been sent on such anemployment; and the story gains additional probability from another legendabout him, that he once saved the life of Sir John Russell, in some secretaffair at Bologna. See FOXE, vol. V. P. 367. Now, although Sir John Russellhad been in Italy several times before (he was at the Battle of Pavia, andhad been employed in various diplomatic missions), and Cromwell might thushave rendered him the service in question on an earlier occasion, yet hecertainly was in the Papal States, on a most secret and dangerous mission, in the months preceding the capture of Rome. _State Papers_, vol. Vi. P. 560, etc. The probabilities may pass for what they are worth till furtherdiscovery. 

[588] A damp, unfurnished house belonging to Wolsey, where he was orderedto remain till the government had determined upon their course towards him. See CAVENDISH. 

[589] CAVENDISH, pp. 269-70. 

[590] Ibid. P. 276. 

[591] Chappuys says, that a quarrel with Sir John Wallop first introducedCromwell to Henry. Cromwell, "not knowing how else to defend himself, contrived with presents and entreaties to obtain an audience of the king, whom he promised to make the richest sovereign that ever reigned inEngland. "--Chappuys to Granvelle: _The Pilgrim_, p. 107. 

[592] Or Willyams. The words are used indifferently. 

[593] The clause enclosed between brackets is struck through. 

[594] Struck through. 

[595] Mary, widow of Louis of Hungary, sister of the emperor, and Regent ofthe Netherlands. 

[596] She was much affected when the first intimation of the marriagereached her. "I am informed of a secret friend of mine, " wrote Sir JohnHacket, "that when the queen here had read the letters which she receivedof late out of England, the tears came to her eyes with very sadcountenance. But indeed this day when I spake to her she showed me not suchcountenance, but told me that she was not well pleased. 

"At her setting forward to ride at hunting, her Grace asked me if I hadheard of late any tidings out of England. I told her Grace, as it is true, that I had none. She gave me a look as that she should marvel thereof, andsaid to me, 'Jay des nouvelles qui ne me semblent point trop bonnes, ' andtold me touching the King's Highness's marriage. To the which I answeredher Grace and said, 'Madame, je ne me doute point syl est faict, et quandle veult prendre et entendre de bonne part et au sain chemyn, sans porterfaveur parentelle que ung le trouvera tout lente et bien raysonnable parlayde de Dieu et de bonne conscience. ' Her Grace said to me again, 'Monsieur l'ambassadeur, c'est Dieu qui le scait que je vouldroye que letout allysse bien, mais ne scaye comment l'empereur et le roy mon frereentendront l'affaire car il touche a eulx tant que a moy. ' I answered andsaid, 'Madame, il me semble estre assuree que l'empereur et le roy vostrefrere qui sont deux Prinssys tres prudens et sayges, quant ilz aurontconsidere indifferentement tout l'affaire qu ilz ne le deveroyentprendre que de bonne part. ' And hereunto her Grace made me answer, saying, 'Da quant de le prendre de bonne part ce la, ne sayge M. L'ambassadeur. '"--Hacket to the Duke of Norfolk: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 452. 

[597] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 457. 

[598] Sir Gregory Cassalis to the Duke of Norfolk. Ad pontificem accessi etmei sermonis illa summa fuit, vellet id præstare ut serenissimum regemnostrum certiorem facere possemus, in suâ causâ nihil innovatum iri. Hicille, sicut solet, respondit, nescire se quo pacto possit Cæsarianisobsistere, --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 461. 

[599] Bennet to Henry: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 462. 

[600] Ibid. 

[601] Letter undated, but written about the middle of June: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 474

[602] Of the Archbishop of York, not of Canterbury: which provokes aquestion. Conjectures are of little value in history, but inasmuch as theremust have been some grave reason for the substitution, a suggestion of apossible reason may not be wholly out of place. The appeal in itself wasstrictly legal; and it was of the highest importance to avoid anyillegality of form. Cranmer, by transgressing the inhibition which Clementhad issued in the winter, might be construed by the papal party to havevirtually incurred the censures threatened, and an escape might thus havebeen furnished from the difficulty in which the appeal placed them. 

[603] Publico ecclesiæ judicio. 

[604] RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 188. 

[605] The French king did write unto Cardinal Tournon (not, however, of hisown will, but under pressure from the Duke of Norfolk), very instantly, that he should desire the pope, in the said French king's name, that hisHolyness would not innovate anything against your Highness any wise tillthe congress: adding, withal, that if his Holyness, notwithstanding hissaid desire, would proceed, he could not less do, considering the great andindissoluble amity betwixt your Highnesses, notorious to all the world, buttake and recognise such proceeding for a fresh injury. --Bennet to HenryVIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 468. 

[606] Ibid. P. 469. 

[607] Ibid. P. 469. 

[608] Ibid. P. 470. 

[609] Ibid. P. 467, note, and p. 470. 

[610] BURNET, vol. I. P. 221. 

[611] We only desire and pray you to endeavour yourselves in the executionof that your charge--easting utterly away and banishing from you such fearand timorousness, or rather despair, as by your said letters we perceive yehave conceived--reducing to your memories in the lieu and stead thereof, asa thing continually lying before your eyes and incessantly sounded in yourears, the justice of our cause, which cannot at length be shadowed, butshall shine and shew itself to the confusion of our adversaries. And wehaving, as is said, truth for us, with the help and assistance of God, author of the same, shall at all times be able to maintain you. --HenryVIII. To Bonner: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 485. 

[612] Bonner to Cromwell: Ibid. Vol. Vii. P. 481. 

[613] The proclamation ordering that Catherine should be called not queen, but Princess Dowager. 

[614] Catherine de Medici. 

[615] Henry VIII. To the Duke of Norfolk: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 493. 

[616] Sir John Racket, writing from Ghent on the 6th of September, describes as the general impression that the Pope's "trust was to assurehis alliance on both sides. " "He trusts to bring about that his Majesty theFrench king and he shall become and remain in good, fast, and sure alliancetogether; and so ensuring that they three (the Pope, Francis, and CharlesV. ) shall be able to reform and set good order in the rest of Christendom. But whether his Unhappiness's--I mean his Holiness's--intention, is set forthe welfare and utility of Christendom, or for his own insincerity andsingular purpose, I remit that to God and to them that know more of theworld than I do. "--Hacket to Cromwell: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 506. 

[617] John the Magnanimous, son of John the Steadfast, and nephew of theElector Frederick, Luther's first protector. 

[618] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 499-501. 

[619] Princeps Elector ducit se imparem ut Regiæ Celsitudinis vel aliorumregum oratores eâ lege in aulâ suâ degerent; vereturque ne ob id apudCæsaream majestatem unicum ejus Dominum et alios male audiret, possetquesinistre tale institutum interpretari. --Reply of the Elector: _StatePapers_, vol. Vii. P. 503. 

[620] Vaughan to Cromwell: _State Papers_, vol vii. P. 509. 

[621] I consider the man, with other two--that is to say, the Landgrave vonHesse and the Duke of Lunenberg--to be the chief and principal defendersand maintainers of the Lutheran sect: who considering the same with nosmall difficulty to be defended, as well against the emperor and thebishops of Germany, his nigh and shrewd neighbours, as against the mostopinion of all Christian men, feareth to raise any other new matter wherebythey should take a larger and peradventure a better occasion to revenge thesame. The King's Highness seeketh to have intelligence with them, as theyconjecture to have them confederate with him; yea, and that against theemperor, if he would anything pretend against the king. --Here is the thingwhich I think feareth the duke. --Vaughan to Cromwell: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 509-10. 

[622] HALL, p. 805. 

[623] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 512. 

[624] The Duke of Albany, during the minority of James V. , had headed theparty in Scotland most opposed to the English. He expelled thequeen-mother, Margaret, sister of Henry; he seized the persons of the twoyoung princes, whom he shut up in Stirling, where the younger brother diedunder suspicion of foul play (_Despatches of_ GIUSTINIANI, vol. I. P. 157);and subsequently, in his genius for intrigue, he gained over the queendowager herself in a manner which touched her honour. --Lord Thomas Dacre toQueen Margaret: ELLIS, second series, vol. I. P. 279. 

[625] Ex his tamen, qui hæc a Pontifice, audierunt, intelligo regemvehementissime instare, ut vestræ majestatis expectatione satisfiatPontifex. --Peter Vannes to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 518. 

[626] _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 520. 

[627] Hoc dico quod video inter regem et pontificem conjunctissime etamicissime hic agi. --Vannes to Cromwell: Ibid. 

[628] Vannes to Cromwell: Ibid. Pp. 522-3. 

[629] BURNET, _Collectanea_, p. 436. 

[630] Letter of the King of France: LEGRAND, vol. Iii. Reply of Henry:FOXE, vol. V. P. 110. 

[631] Commission of the Bishop of Paris: LEGRAND, vol. Iii; BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 128; FOXE, vol. V. P. 106-111. The commission of the Bishop ofBayonne is not explicit on the extent to which the pope had bound himselfwith respect to the sentence. Yet either in some other despatch, orverbally through the Bishop, Francis certainly informed Henry that the Popehad promised that sentence should be given in his favour. We shall findHenry assuming this in his reply; and the Archbishop of York declared toCatherine that the pope "said at Marseilles, that if his Grace would send aproxy thither he would give sentence for his Highness against her, becausethat he knew his cause to be good and just. "--_State Papers_, vol. I. P. 421. 

[632] MS. Bibl. Impér. Paris. --_The Pilgrim_, pp. 97, 98. Cf. FOXE, vol. V. P. 110. 

[633] I hear of a number of Gelders which be lately reared; and the opinionof the people here is that they shall go into England. All men there speakevil of England, and threaten it in their foolish manner. --Vaughan toCromwell: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 511. 

[634] RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 189. 

[635] Parties were so divided in England that lookers-on who reported anyone sentiment as general there, reported in fact by their own wishes andsympathies. D'Inteville, the French ambassador, a strong Catholic, declaresthe feeling to have been against the revolt. Chastillon, on the other hand, writing at the same time from the same place (for he had returned fromFrance, and was present with d'Inteville at the last interview), says, "TheKing has made up his mind to a complete separation from Rome; and the lordsand the majority of the people go along with him. "--Chastillon to theBishop of Paris: _The Pilgrim_, p. 99. 

[636] STRYPE, _Eccles. Memor. _, vol. I. P. 224. 

[637] Instructions to the Earls of Oxford, Essex, and Sussex, toremonstrate with the Lady Mary: _Rolls House MS. _

[638] Ibid. 

[639] On the 15th of November, Queen Catherine wrote to the Emperor, andafter congratulating him on his successes against the Turks, she continued, "And as our Lord in his mercy has worked so great a good for Christendom byyour Highness's hands, so has he enlightened also his Holiness; and I andall this realm have now a sure hope that, with the grace of God, hisHoliness will slay this second Turk, this affair between the King my Lordand me. Second Turk, I call it, from the misfortunes which, through hisHoliness's long delay, have grown out of it, and are now so vast and of soill example that I know not whether this or the Turk be the worst. Sorry amI to have been compelled to importune your Majesty so often in this matter, for sure I am you do not need my pressing. But I see delay to be socalamitous, my own life is so unquiet and so painful, and the opportunityto make an end now so convenient, that it seems as if God of his goodnesshad brought his Holiness and your Majesty together to bring about so greata good. I am forced to be importunate, and I implore your Highness for thepassion of our Lord Jesus Christ, that in return for the signal benefitswhich God each day is heaping on you, you will accomplish for me this greatblessing, and bring his Holiness to a decision. Let him remember what hepromised you at Bologna. The truth here is known, and he will thus destroythe hopes of those who persuade the King my Lord that he will never passjudgment. "--Queen Catherine to Charles V. : _MS. Simancas_, November 15, 1533. 

[640] Letter to the King, giving an account of certain Friars Observantswho had been about the Princess Dowager: _Rolls House MS. _

[641] We remember the northern prophecy, "In England shall be slain thedecorate Rose in his mother's belly, " which the monks of Furnessinterpreted as meaning that "the King's Grace should die by the hands ofpriests. "--Vol. I. Cap. 4. 

[642] Statutes of the Realm, 25 Henry VIII. Cap. 12. State Papers relatingto Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls House MS. _ Prior of Christ Church, Canterbury, to Cromwell: _Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 20. 

[643] Thus Cromwell writes to Fisher: "My Lord, [the outward evidencesthat she was speaking truth] moved you not to give credence to her, butonly the very matter whereupon she made her false prophecies, to whichmatter ye were so affected--as ye be noted to be on all matters whichye once enter into--that nothing could come amiss that made for thatpurpose. "--_Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 30. 

[644] Papers relating to the Nun of Kent: _Rolls House MS. _

[645] Ibid. 

[646] Ibid. 

[647] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[648] Papers relating to the Nun of Kent: _Rolls House MS. _ 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. The "many" nobles are not more particularly designated in theofficial papers. It was not desirable to mention names when the offence wasto be passed over. 

[649] Report of the Commissioners--Papers relating to the Nun of Kent:_Rolls House MS. _

[650] Goold, says the Act of the Nun's attainder, travelled to Bugden, "toanimate the said Lady Princess to make commotion in the realm against oursovereign lord; surmitting that the said Nun should hear by revelation ofGod that the said Lady Catherine should prosper and do well, and that herissue, the Lady Mary, should prosper and reign in the realm. "--25 HenryVIII. Cap. 13. 

[651] Report of the Proceedings of the Nun of Kent: _Rolls House MS. _

[652] MS. Bibliot. Impér. , Paris. The letter is undated. It was apparentlywritten in the autumn of 1533. 

[653] Il a des nouvelles amours. In a paper at Simancas, containing Nuevasde Inglaterra, written about this time, is a similar account of the dislikeof Anne and her family, as well as of the king's altered feelings towardsher. Dicano anchora che la Anna è mal voluta degli Si. Di Inghilterra siper la sua superbia, si anche per l'insolentia e mali portamenti che fannonel regno li fratelli e parenti di Anna; e che per questo il Re non laporta la affezione que soleva per che il Re festeggia una altra Donna dellaquale se mostra esser inamorato, e molti Si. Di Inghilterra lo ajutano nelseguir el predito amor per deviar questo Re dalla pratica di Anna. 

[654] HALL. 

[655] "I, dame Elizabeth Barton, " she said, "do confess that I, mostmiserable and wretched person, have been the original of all this mischief, and by my falsehood I have deceived all these persons (the monks who wereher accomplices), and many more; whereby I have most grievously offendedAlmighty God, and my most noble sovereign the King's Grace. Wherefore Ihumbly, and with heart most sorrowful, desire you to pray to Almighty Godfor my miserable sins, and make supplication for me to my sovereign for hisgracious mercy and pardon. "--Confession of Elizabeth Barton: _Rolls HouseMS. _

[656] Papers relating to Elizabeth Barton: Ibid. 

[657] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 415. 

[658] A curious trait in Mary's character may be mentioned in connectionwith this transfer. She had a voracious appetite; and in Elizabeth'shousehold expenses an extra charge was made necessary of £26 a year for themeat breakfasts and meat suppers "served into the Lady Mary'schamber. "--Statement of the expenses of the Household of the PrincessElizabeth: _Rolls House MS. _

[659] He is called _frater consobrinus_. See FULLER'S _Worthies_, vol. Iii. P. 128. 

[660] He was killed at the battle of Pavia. 

[661] Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire, married Catherine, daughter of Edward. 

[662] Believe me, my lord, there are some here, and those of the greatestin the land, who will be indignant if the Pope confirm the sentence againstthe late Queen. --D'Inteville to Montmorency: _The Pilgrim_, p. 97. 

[663] She once rode to Canterbury, disguised as a servant, with only ayoung girl for a companion. --Depositions of Sir Geoffrey Pole: _Rolls HouseMS. _

[664] Confession of Sir William Neville: _Rolls House MS. _

[665] Confession of Sir George Neville: Ibid. 

[666] Confession of the Oxford Wizard: Ibid. 

[667] Queen Anne Boleyn to Gardiner: BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 355. Officefor the Consecration of Cramp Rings: Ibid. 

[668] So at least the Oxford Wizard said that Sir William Neville had toldhim. --Confession of the Wizard: _Rolls House MS. _ But the authority is notgood. 

[669] Henry alone never listened seriously to the Nun of Kent. 

[670] John of Transylvania, the rival of Ferdinand. His designation by thetitle of king in an English state paper was a menace that, if driven toextremities, Henry would support him against the empire. 

[671] Acts of Council: _State Papers_, vol. I. Pp. 414-15. 

[672] Henry VIII. To Sir John Wallop: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 524. 

[673] Stephen Vaughan to Cromwell: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 517. Vaughan describes Peto with Shakespearian raciness. "Peto is an ipocriteknave, as the most part of his brethren be; a wolf; a tiger clad in asheep's skin. It is a perilous knave--a raiser of sedition--an evilreporter of the King's Highness--a prophecyer of mischief--a fellow I wouldwish to be in the king's hands, and to be shamefully punished. Would God Icould get him by any policy--I will work what I can. Be sure he shall donothing, nor pretend to do nothing, in these parts, that I will not findmeans to cause the King's Highness to know. I have laid a bait for him. Heis not able to wear the clokys and cucullys that be sent him out ofEngland, they be so many. "

[674] Hacket to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 528. 

[675] Ibid. P. 530. 

[676] Hacket to Cromwell: _State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 531. 

[677] So at least Henry supposed, if we may judge by the resolutions of theCouncil "for the fortification of all the frontiers of the realm, as wellupon the coasts of the sea as the frontiers foreanenst Scotland. " Thefortresses and havens were to be "fortefyed and munited;" and money to besent to York to be in readiness "if any business should happen. "--Ibid. Vol. I. P. 411. 

[678] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 19. 

[679] A design which unfortunately was not put in effect. In the hurry ofthe time it was allowed to drop. 

[680] 25 Henry VIII. Cap. 14. 

[681] 23 Henry VIII. Cap. 20. 

[682] At this very time Campeggio was Bishop of Salisbury, and Ghinucci, who had been acting for Henry at Rome, was Bishop of Worcester. The Act bywhich they were deprived speaks of these two appointments as _nominations_by the king. --25 Henry VIII. Cap. 27. 

[683] Wolsey held three bishoprics and one archbishopric, besides the abbeyof St. Albans. 

[684] Thus when Wolsey was presented, in 1514, to the See of Lincoln, LeoX. Writes to his beloved son Thomas Wolsey how that in his great care forthe interests of the Church, "Nos hodie Ecclesiæ Lincolniensi, te inepiscopum et pastorem præficere intendimus. " He then informs the Chapter ofLincoln of the appointment; and the king, in granting the temporalities, continues the fiction without seeming to recognise it:--"Cum dominus summusPontifex nuper vacante Ecclesiâ cathedrali personam fidelis clerici nostriThomæ Wolsey, in ipsius Ecclesiæ episcopum præfecerit, nos, " etc. --See theActs in RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 1, pp. 55-7. 

[685] 25 Henry VIII. Cap. 20. The pre-existing, unrealities with respect tothe election of bishops explain the unreality of the new arrangement, anddivest it of the character of wanton tyranny with which it appeared _primâfacie_ to press upon the Chapters. The history of this statute is curious, and perhaps explains the intentions with which it was originally passed. Itwas repealed by the 2nd of the 1st of Edward VI. On the ground that theliberty of election was merely nominal, and that the Chapters ought to berelieved of responsibility when they had no power of choice. Directnomination by the crown was substituted for the _congé d'élire_, andremained the practice till the reaction under Mary, when the indefinitesystem was resumed which had existed before the Reformation. On theaccession of Elizabeth, the statute of 25 Henry VIII. Was again enacted. The more complicated process of Henry was preferred to the more simple oneof Edward, and we are naturally led to ask the reason of so singular apreference. I cannot but think that it was this. The Council of Regencyunder Edward VI. Treated the Church as an institution of the State, whileHenry and Elizabeth endeavoured (under difficulties) to regard it under itsmore Catholic aspect of an organic body. So long as the Reformation was inprogress, it was necessary to prevent the intrusion upon the bench ofbishops of Romanising tendencies, and the deans and chapters were thereforeprotected by a strong hand from their own possible mistakes. But the formof liberty was conceded to them, not, I hope, to place deliberately a bodyof clergymen in a degrading position, but in the belief that at no distanttime the Church might be allowed without danger to resume some degree ofself-government. 

[686] 25 Henry VIII. Cap. 21. 

[687] I sent you no heavy words, but words of great comfort; willing yourbrother to shew you how benign and merciful the prince was; and that Ithought it expedient for you to write unto his Highness, and to recogniseyour offence and to desire his pardon, which his Grace would not deny youhow in your age and sickness. --Cromwell to Fisher: _Suppression of theMonasteries_, p. 27. 

[688] Sir Thomas More to Cromwell: BURNET'S _Collectanea_, p. 350. 

[689] Ibid. 

[690] Ibid. 

[691] More to Cromwell: STRYPE'S _Memorials_, vol. I. Appendix, p. 195. 

[692] More to the King: ELLIS, first series, vol. Ii. P. 47. 

[693] Cromwell to Fisher: _Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 27, et seq. 

[694] _Suppression of the Monasteries_, p. 27, et seq. 

[695] John Fisher to the Lords in Parliament: ELLIS, third series, vol. Ii. P. 289. 

[696] _Lords' Journals_, p. 72. 

[697] 25 Hen. VIII. Cap. 12. 

[698] In a tract written by a Dr. Moryson in defence of the government, three years later, I find evidence that a distinction was made among theprisoners, and that Dr. Bocking was executed with peculiar cruelty. "Solusin crucem actus est Bockingus, " are Moryson's words, though I feeluncertain of the nature of the punishment which he meant to designate. "Crucifixion" was unknown to the English law; and an event so peculiar asthe "crucifixion" of a monk would hardly have escaped the notice of thecontemporary chroniclers. In a careful diary kept by a London merchantduring these years, which is in MS. In the Library of Balliol College, Oxford, the whole party are said to have been hanged. --See, however, _Morysini Apomaxis_, printed by Berthelet, 1537. 

[699] HALL, p. 814. ] The inferior confederates were committed to theirprisons with the exception only of Fisher, who, though sentenced, foundmercy thrust upon him, till by fresh provocation the miserable old manforced himself upon his fate. [700

[700] LORD HERBERT says he was pardoned; I do not find, however, on whatauthority: but he was certainly not imprisoned, nor was the sentence offorfeiture enforced against him. 

[701] This is the substance of the provisions, which are, of course, muchabridged. 

[702] _Lords' Journals_, vol. I. P. 82. An act was also passed in thissession "against the usurped power of the Bishop of Rome. " We trace it inits progress through the House of Lords. (_Lords' Journals_, Parliament of1533-4. ) It received the royal assent (ibid. ), and is subsequently alludedto in the both of the 28th of Henry VIII. , as well as in a RoyalProclamation dated June, 1534; and yet it is not on the Roll, nor do Ianywhere find traces of it. It is not to be confounded with the act againstpayment of Peter's Pence, for in the _Lords' Journals_ the two acts areseparately mentioned. It received the royal assent on the 30th of March, while that against Peter's Pence was suspended till the 7th of April. Itcontained, also, an indirect assertion that the king was Head of theEnglish Church, according to the title which had been given him byConvocation. (King's Proclamation: FOXE, vol. V. P. 69. ) For some cause orother, the act at the last moment must have been withdrawn. 

[703] See BURNET, vol. I. Pp. 220-1: vol. Iii p. 135; and LORD HERBERT. DuBellay's brother, the author of the memoirs, says that the king, at thebishop's entreaty, promised that if the pope would delay sentence, and send"judges to hear the matter, he would himself forbear to do what he proposedto do"--that is, separate wholly from the See of Rome. If this is true, thesending "judges" must allude to the "sending them to Cambray, " which hadbeen proposed at Marseilles. 

[704] See the letter of the Bishop of Bayonne, dated March 23, in LEGRAND. A paraphrase is given by BURNET, vol. Iii. P. 132. 

[705] Promisistis predecessori meo quod si sententiam contra regem Angliætulisset, Cæsar illum infra quatuor menses erat invasurus, et regnoexpulsurus. --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 579. 

[706] Letter of Du Bellay in LEGRAND. 

[707] Ibid. 

[708] Sir Edward Karne and Dr. Revett to Henry VIII. : _State Papers_, vol. Vii. Pp. 553-4. 

[709] State Papers, vol. Vii. P. 560, et seq. 

[710] His Highness, considering the time and the malice of the emperour, cannot conveniently pass out of the realm--since he leaveth behind himanother daughter and a mother, with their friends, maligning hisenterprises in this behalf--who bearing no small grudge against his mostentirely beloved Queen Anne, and his young daughter the princess, mightperchance in his absence take occasion to excogitate and practise withtheir said friends matters of no small peril to his royal person, realm, and subjects. --_State Papers_, vol. Vii. P. 559. 

[711] LORD HERBERT. 

[712] I mentioned their execution in connection with their sentence; but itdid not take place till the 20th of April, a month after their attainder:and delay of this kind was very unusual in cases of high treason. I havelittle doubt that their final sentence was in fact pronounced by the pope. 

[713] The oaths of a great many are in RYMER, vol. Vi. Part 2, p. 195, etseq. 

[714] His great-grandson's history of him (_Life of Sir Thomas More, _, byCRESACRE MORE, written about 1620, published 1627, with a dedication toHenrietta Maria) is incorrect in so many instances that I follow it withhesitation; but the account of the present matter is derived from Mr. Roper, More's son-in-law, who accompanied him to Lambeth, and it isincidentally confirmed in various details by More himself. 

[715] MORE'S _Life of More_, p. 232. 

[716] More held extreme republican opinions on the tenure of kings, holdingthat they might be deposed by act of parliament. 

[717] MORE'S _Life of More_, p. 237. 

[718] BURNET, vol. I. P. 255. 

[719] MORE'S _Life of More_, p. 237. 

[720] Cromwell to the Archbishop of Canterbury: _Rolls House MS. _

[721] _State Papers_, vol. I. P. 411, et seq. 

[722] Royal Proclamation, June, 1534. 

[723] Ibid. 

[724] FOXE, vol. V. P. 70.