the visitation and suppression of the monasteries. Those institutions, though not popular in cities, and viewed with jealousy by the secular clergy, provided in many country districts the only existing charitable or educational organisations; and moreover, whatever their defects were in the eyes of the Economist, they were much more lenient landlords than the average lay landowner. It would have been strange indeed if some of the dispersed monks had not allowed their tongues to wag, to the stirring up of alarm and discontent. In the autumn of this year, the effect of these things were seen in a rising in Lincolnshire. This was promptly suppressed without any undue tenderness either of speech or action; but it was very soon followed by the much more significant and formidable insurrection in the North, known as the Pilgrimage of Grace.
[Sidenote: The Pilgrimage of Grace]
The insurgents were headed by a very remarkable man, a lawyer named Robert Aske of a good North-country family. He had taken no part in inciting rebellion; but the position of leader was thrust upon him, and as it would seem not unwillingly accepted. His abilities were great: the rising was organised with much skill, and with wonderful system and discipline. Yet Aske’s very virtues unfitted him for his office under the existing conditions. He was honest himself; he wished to avoid bloodshed: what he sought was the remedying of genuine grievances. As with the Lincolnshire insurgents, this meant the restoration of the monasteries, the removal of evil councillors, notably Cromwell, the removal of the advanced bishops, such as Cranmer and Latimer, the remission of a tax granted in 1534 which a commission was collecting, the repeal of a recent land-act (“Statute of Uses”) which had increased the difficulty of providing younger sons with sufficient endowments, the restoration to the Church of revenues lately attached by the Crown. All over the North, cities and strongholds fell into the hands of Aske’s followers without a blow. With thirty thousand well equipped and fairly disciplined troops he advanced to the Don, where he was faced by Norfolk with a far smaller force.
[Sidenote 1: Aske beguiled]
[Sidenote 2: 1537 Suppression of the rising]
It was then that Aske committed his fatal but noble error. Had he struck then, he could in all probability have marched triumphantly to London and have dictated his own terms. But he did not wish to strike. He sought a conference, and laid his proposals before Norfolk. Norfolk temporised, and referred the proposals to London. The insurgents were allowed to believe that they would be pardoned, and their demands be essentially conceded. The nobles and gentry among them were appealed to privately; Norfolk even sought to get Aske betrayed into his hands. Aske still would not give up the hope of a peaceful solution. At last in December the King gave Norfolk powers to concede a free pardon and a Parliament at York; but there is no doubt that Norfolk’s statements to the insurgents gave the totally different impression that they could count upon the fulfilment of their demands. By the King’s command the leaders went South to be personally interviewed, and returned in sanguine mood. But their army was breaking up, and it was very soon apparent that in fact the North was being rapidly garrisoned for the King. The pardons were accompanied by a new oath of allegiance which showed very clearly that the grievances were not going to be remedied. Wild spirits broke out again in deeds of violence. By this time, the royal armies were in a position to strike. It was declared that the conditions of the pardon had been violated; the insurgents had now no prospect of making head in the field. Hangings were freely resorted to; Aske and other leaders were seized and executed: an impressive series of abbots and priors was among the victims. And so, early in 1537, ended the one formidable insurrection of Henry’s reign.
[Sidenote: The rising turned to account]
Not only had half the nobility and gentry of the North been seriously implicated in the rising; the clergy had taken active part in fomenting it. Being followed up by a visitation from Cromwell’s most energetic commissioners, such guilt as there had been was presented in the strongest colours and was made a new ground for Suppression, or the application of the drastic regulations which induced voluntary surrender; and at the same time pains were taken to impress the Ten Articles on the public mind. These were supplemented by the publication of the “Institution of a Christian Man” otherwise known as the “Bishops’ Book”; in which some points which had been omitted or left vague in the Articles were laid down with a more defined orthodoxy, though the prelates of every shade of opinion had their share in the work. On the other hand, the preparation of an authorised version of the Scriptures was going forward. In spite of Cromwell’s Injunction that the Bible should be set up in English and Latin in the Churches, Coverdale’s work had not been adopted; and though this was followed by “Matthew’s Bible,” a combination of Tindal’s and Coverdale’s, in 1537, it was not till the issue of the revised version, known on account of its size as the Great Bible, more than a year later, that the injunction was given general effect.
[Sidenote: 1533-36 James V.]
Abroad, the reluctant but anxious desire to maintain friendly relations with England which attended the domination of Wolsey had practically disappeared since the Cardinal’s fall. From 1529 to 1536, there had been no prospect of a reconciliation between Henry and Charles; Francis had only at intervals been disposed to make advances; the demeanour of the Lutheran princes had been cold at the best. In Scotland, the young King, who only attained his majority in 1533, displayed that lack of confidence in the disinterested generosity of England which seems to be always a cause of pained surprise to the English politicians and historians. In fact it was his firm and extremely natural conviction that his uncle was responsible for keeping the whole border country in a perpetual state of unrest, fomenting the rivalries of the Scottish nobility, and generally promoting disorder, in order to bring about the subordination of the Northern to the Southern kingdom. The clerical body in Scotland, which had always been most energetic in maintaining resistance to England, was of course rendered more Anglophobe than ever by Henry’s ecclesiastical policy; and its influence was strong, since it had done a good deal in the way of fighting James’s battles with his nobles. Henry proposed a conference with his nephew, to be held at York, in 1538; James had at first welcomed the proposal, but presently evaded it in the belief that his uncle would kidnap him, as he had before designed to kidnap Beton. Instead he went to France, to arrange a marriage with a daughter of Francis; and on his return was reported to have given encouragement to the North-country rebels.
[Sidenote: 1536-37 Naval measures]
Meantime, in the Channel, the estimation in which England was held had been shown by the increasingly piratical proceedings of French, Spanish, and Flemish ships; since of late Henry’s hands had been too full for him to give clue attention to naval affairs. Now however the opportunity was taken to devote some of the monastic funds to coast defence. A series of forts was raised, commanding the principal harbours on the south coast; and a few ships, secretly prepared, were suddenly sent out under competent captains, to teach the channel pirates a lesson in English seamanship; which was very effectively accomplished.
[Sidenote 1: 1537 Birth of Prince Edward] [Sidenote 2: Marriage projects]
The problem of the succession to the throne was at last settled by the birth of a prince in October (1537). There was now an heir whose claims if he lived would be unassailable. But within a few weeks the queen died; and there was still only the life of one baby to shield the country from anarchy, in case Henry himself should die. With probably genuine reluctance, the King agreed that he would marry again if a suitable wife could be found for him; and the whirligig of intriguing for his union with one or another foreign princess was set in motion; princesses related to Charles, or to Francis, or to one of the Lutheran chiefs. Two years elapsed before the choice was made which, led to Cromwell’s downfall. And in the meantime Mary of Guise (or Lorraine) was withdrawn from the lists by her marriage with James V., whose Queen Madeleine had died a few months after the nuptials: while the Duchess of Milan, a youthful niece of the Emperor, was for some time utilised by Charles as a diplomatic asset. The risk of an Anglo-Imperial alliance was employed by him in negotiations with Francis; and when these negotiations were brought to a successful issue the proposed alliance was gradually allowed to drop.
[Sidenote: 1538 Diplomatic moves]
During 1538 however, this marriage was being dangled before Henry, accompanied by the hope that it might cause a rupture between Charles and the Pope, from whom a dispensation would be necessary–a question which could not now be raised without the kindling of explosive materials. Further the English quarrel with Rome was being embittered by a campaign against spurious relics, miracle-working shrines, and the like, involving a particularly virulent attack on St. Thomas of Canterbury, the type of defiant ecclesiasticism. Moreover, the arrival of a deputation of Lutheran divines in England was ominous of the closer association of the bodies which had revolted from Rome. Reginald Pole, a member of the house which stood high in the Yorkist line of succession [Footnote: See _Front_.], who had been not long before raised to the Cardinalate, had for some time been carrying on from the Continent a violent propaganda against Henry. Pope Paul’s Bull of Deposition was again being talked of, though there is some doubt as to whether it was actually published.
[Sidenote 1: The Exeter Conspiracy]
[Sidenote 2: Cromwell strikes]
Under all these circumstances, it is scarcely surprising that a new and formidable conspiracy, essentially Yorkist, was brought to light. In fact the whole country was sown with spies, and there was not much difficulty in obtaining information of treasonable speeches, when hasty expressions of discontent counted for treason. Now outside the offspring of Henry VII., the Marquis of Exeter, Edward Courtenay, was a grandson of Edward IV.; the Poles were grandsons of his brother, Clarence, whose daughter, their mother the Countess of Salisbury, was living still. The theory that a tyrant might be deposed and another scion of the royal house substituted, had ample precedent; and it is in no way improbable that the Courtenays, who were all-powerful in the West, might have been ready enough in conjunction with the Poles to make a bid for the throne, if they could have found or created a favourable opportunity. The Cardinal had warning from Cromwell that the safety of his kinsmen was jeopardised by his diatribes; while Lord Montague, the head of the family, was on very close terms of friendship with Exeter. Exeter’s own conduct on the occasion of the Pilgrimage of Grace had been suspicious. Out of these materials there was no difficulty in constructing a damning case against as many members of these Plantagenet houses as might be considered advisable: since there was no need to prove that rebellion was actually organised. It was enough to have a record of the use of disloyal expressions, or even of the concealment of the knowledge that such expressions had been used. Finally it was notorious that there was no love lost between Cromwell and the suspected nobles. Cromwell, having collected sufficient evidence for his purpose, struck. Geoffrey Pole, a younger brother, learned that the blow was coming in time to turn informer. How far there was anything really deserving the name of a conspiracy the evidence produced did not show; but the existence of treason under the Treasons Act was indisputable. The policy which had struck down Buckingham nearly a score of years before was repeated even more ruthlessly. The materials for formulating a Yorkist rising were destroyed; there was no figure-head for one left when Exeter and Montague had been executed (Dec.), even though the old Countess of Salisbury’s doom was deferred. And men realised afresh–if there was need that they should do so–the irresistible machinery that Cromwell had prepared for the certain annihilation of any one worth annihilating.
[Sidenote: 1539 Menace of Invasion]
The warning was perhaps necessary; for in the beginning of 1539 the attitude of the foreign Powers was menacing. The Pope was planning a sort of crusade, with invasion and insurrection in Ireland as its basis. The marriage of James of Scotland to Mary of Guise would make matters the more dangerous if France assumed a definitely hostile attitude; and the pretence of negotiating the union between Henry and the Duchess of Milan had been ended by the reconciliation of Charles and Francis. A combination including the Emperor was threatening. Wriothesly the English ambassador in the Low Countries, did not believe on the whole that there would be a breach of the peace, unless the Imperialists felt that their victory would be assured. Nevertheless, a great armament was assembled in the Dutch harbours. England, however, had awakened to the need of defence in the Channel; fleets were assembled and forts manned. The solidarity of the country had been demonstrated by the easy suppression of the Courtenays and Poles. If an invasion was contemplated–which can hardly be doubted–the invaders thought better of the situation, and the armada dispersed without any overt hostilities taking place.
[Sidenote 1: The King and Lutheranism] [Sidenote 2: The Six Articles]
The Lutheran conference of the previous year had been without direct results: but it had the effect of forcing to the front the settlement of the official position as to several points of doctrine. The advanced bishops were distinctly inclined to admit the Lutheran views: the other powerful body within the English Church was in strong opposition. Theologically, the King was in agreement with the latter section, although he retained a particularly strong and persistent personal affection for Cranmer–apparently the only persistent affection of his life. The result was the production of the Six Articles Act, pronouncing in favour of Transubstantiation, clerical celibacy, auricular confession, communion in one kind only for the laity, prayers for the dead, and the permanence of vows once taken. On the first head there was not as yet any real difference of opinion. As to the second, Cranmer was actually a married man when he became archbishop, and many of the clergy, especially in country districts, had wives, in spite of the fact that the law did not recognise the relationship: so that an awkward situation was created. Considering the abolition of the monasteries, the Article concerning vows was remarkable. But on all these doctrines the views of the reformers were not yet sufficiently crystallised to prevent their submission when the Jaw demanded it, though it justified a determined opposition to the passing of the law; in this Cranmer was particularly conspicuous, and two of the bishops, Latimer and Shaxton, lost their sees. That the Act should have been passed is not surprising; but the ferocity of the attendant penalties is best explained by the fact that, on an attempt being made to apply the statute in a wholesale fashion, the accused were promptly pardoned and set at liberty. The object was not so much to punish as to silence the advanced section.
[Sidenote: Final Suppression of Monasteries]
At the same time two other Acts of grave import were passed. One was the Act for the suppression and forfeiture of those religious houses which had not been accounted for in the Act of 1536. The new Act was merely the logical corollary of the old one. The distinction in morals between the lesser and greater monasteries was not marked: and to the old charges of the commissioners were added the new charges of complicity in the rebellion of the North and in Exeter’s conspiracy, and of fomenting disloyalty generally. The measure was carried out with great harshness, and especial severity was shown in the cases where abbots and monks attempted to conceal the monastic treasures. The aged and beloved abbot of Glastonbury was found guilty of treason and put to death. The great estates became for the most part the prizes of the nobility. Some few of the houses were converted into Chapters. There was a scheme for constructing twenty-one new bishoprics out of the proceeds of the suppression, but the twenty-one dwindled to six. [Footnote: Chester, Peterborough, Oxford, Gloucester, Bristol and Westminster.] A fraction of the money was expended on the Channel defences. But broadly speaking the vast bulk of the spoils went to no national or ecclesiastical purpose but to the enrichment of private individuals. Still the amount realised by the National Exchequer did no doubt relieve the present necessity for taxation in other forms, which would have been a more fruitful source of murmuring and discontent than sympathy with the dispossessed monks.
[Sidenote: Royal Proclamations Act]
The second measure was the Royal Proclamations Act, giving to Royal Proclamations made with the assent of the Privy Council the force of law. This was the coping stone of that edifice of absolutism built up by parliamentary enactments of which Cromwell was the Architect: an adaptation of the system initiated by Henry VII. and developed by Wolsey; springing now from the assertion of the doctrine of the Supreme Head, continuing with the novel practical interpretations of that doctrine in matters ecclesiastical, and buttressed by the Treasons Act, which effectually translated discontent into Treason. Now the King was left in such a position that his will became formally law unless his Privy Council opposed him.
[Sidenote: Anne of Cleves]
Cromwell had shattered the ecclesiastical power of resistance: he had shattered also the dangerous elements among the nobility: he had systematically secured parliamentary confirmation for every step. But he wished to carry still further the anti-clericalism which was part of his policy. He desired the domination in England of the Lutheranising section of Churchmen, and the central idea of his foreign policy was the construction of a Protestant League. In these respects he went beyond his master, and in the attempt to carry his master with him, he made ship-wreck of himself. The question of another marriage for Henry was still unsettled; if more children were to be hoped for, it must be settled soon. Cromwell fixed upon Anne of Cleves as politically the wife to be desired. By wedding with her, Henry would be drawn into closer relations with the Protestant League of Schmalkald. He painted for the King a misleading picture of the lady’s charms: the King consented to his plans; the negotiation flowed smoothly.
[Sidenote 1: 1540 The Marriage]
[Sidenote 2: Fall of Cromwell]
Early in the year (1540) the bride came to England; bringing disillusionment. Matters had gone too far for the King to draw back, and the marriage was carried out; but his wrath was kindled against its projector. The blow fell not less suddenly than with Wolsey. The Earl of Essex–such was the title recently bestowed on Cromwell–was without warning arrested and attainted of high treason. The instrument he himself had forged and ruthlessly wielded with such terrible effect was turned as ruthlessly against him. He had over-ridden the law. He had countenanced and protected anti-clerical law-breakers. He had spoken in arrogant terms of his own power. As it had availed Wolsey nothing that his breach of praemunire had been countenanced by the King, so it availed Cromwell nothing that the King had seemed to support him. If the King had done so, in each case, it was merely because he in his innocence had been misled by his minister, so that in fact their crime was aggravated. For the merciless minister, there was no mercy. That the process against Essex was by attainder and not by an ordinary trial is of little moment. His fate would have been the same in any case; nor was he so scrupulous in such matters that he can claim sympathy on that head. No voice but Cranmer’s–in lamentation rather than protest–was raised on his behalf. The mighty minister, the most dreaded of all men who have swayed the destinies of England, found himself in a moment as utterly helpless as the feeblest of his victims had been. He was flung into the Tower; his stormy protests were unheeded by the King; on July 28th, his head fell beneath the executioner’s axe.
[Sidenote: Nemesis]
Cromwell had learned his ethics and his state-craft in that school whose doctrines are formulated in “The Prince” of Macchiavelli. He had applied those principles with remorseless logic, untinged by the fear of God or man, to the single end of making his master actually the most complete autocrat that ever sat on the throne of England. His loyalty was as unfailing as it was unscrupulous; his work had been thorough and complete–the King was placed beyond further need of him. His reward was the doom of a traitor. Unpitying he lived, unpitied he died. Regardless of justice, he had swept down each obstacle in the way of his policy: regardless of justice he was in turn struck down. By his own standards he was judged; his end was the end he had compassed for More and Fisher. History has no more perfect example of Nemesis.
CHAPTER X
HENRY VIII (vi), 1540-47–HENRY’S LAST YEARS
[Sidenote: 1540 Katherine Howard]
The complaisant and very plain lady who had been the cause of Cromwell’s downfall had no objection (subject to compensation), to being discarded on technical grounds by her spouse. Before the minister was dead, the marriage had been pronounced null: not without compensatory gifts. But her brother the Duke of Cleves was less easily pacified, and all prospect of an alliance with the Protestant League was at an end. A new bride was promptly found for the King in the person of Katharine Howard, a kinswoman of the Duke of Norfolk–a marriage which marked the renewal of the ascendancy of the old nobility in alliance with the reactionary Church party.
[Sidenote: The King his own Minister]
Thirty-one years had passed since Henry, in the first flush of a manhood exceptionally rich in promise, but untried and inexperienced, had taken his place on the throne of England as the successor of the most astute sovereign in Europe. For nearly twenty years thereafter Wolsey had served him with such latitude of action that nearly every one except the Cardinal believed that he dominated the King. After a brief interval, for nearly ten years more the same statement would have applied to Cromwell. While those two great ministers held office, each of them towered immeasurably above all his fellow-subjects: though each knew that the brilliant boy had hardened into a masterful King who could hurl him headlong with a nod. But when Cromwell had fallen, none took his place; there is no statesman who stands out conspicuous. Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, brother of Jane Seymour, showed some military capacity; Paget proved himself an astute diplomatist; Cranmer and Gardiner led the rival Church parties, but neither the parties nor their leaders exercised any semblance of control over the Supreme Head. Abroad, Henry’s battle with the Pope was won: at home his autocracy was established alike as temporal and spiritual head of the nation. There was no one left who needed crushing. Cromwell had seen to that before he was dispensed with. After that revolutionary decade, there were no more marked changes. There were incidents in the now slowly moving course of the reformation; there was even an unimportant insurrection; but the chief interest of Henry’s closing years is once more to be found mainly in foreign relations, and more especially in those with Scotland.
[Sidenote: England and the European Powers]
On the continent, the two leading Powers, France and the Empire, were in a chronic state of antagonism only occasionally veiled: while the Pope was in permanent opposition to England. This situation was complicated by the Schmalkaldic League of Protestant German Princes. When Charles was disposed to religious toleration, the League were his very good subjects, the Pope became antagonistic, and a Franco-papal alliance threatened. When Charles leaned to intolerance, the Pope grew favourable to him, and Francis turned a friendly eye on the perturbed Protestant League. Charles, Francis, and the League, would each of them have been pleased to make use of England, but none of them wished to be of service to her: and now Thomas Cromwell’s great desire of bringing about a cordial relation between England and the League had been frustrated instead of furthered by the affair of Anne of Cleves. The risk of this alliance had forced Charles into a conciliatory attitude towards Francis; relieved from it, he could now revert to his normal attitude. At the end of 1540, the Emperor and the French King were almost within measurable distance of hostilities, while the relations between the latter and Henry were becoming seriously strained by his neglect to pay the instalments of cash due under past treaties. For the time being, however, there was no immediate likelihood of a breach of the peace.
[Sidenote: Cardinal Beton]
In Scotland, James Beton Archbishop of St. Andrews, the most consistent enemy of England, had died in 1539, and had been succeeded, both in his office and his influence, by his nephew, the still more famous Cardinal, David Beton. The Cardinal was the last of the old school of militant ecclesiastical statesmen; a foe to the English the more deadly because of Henry’s anti-clerical policy, as well as on account of traditional views, and of the specific grounds of distrust for which Henry himself had been responsible during twenty years past–including the proposal to let Angus kidnap James Beton [Footnote: _Cf._ p. 81.] under a safe-conduct. He was moreover a zealous persecutor of heretics; which greatly intensified the bitterness with which all the historians of the reforming party treated not only the man himself but the whole policy which he was supposed to have instigated. In Scotland, religious reformers were almost of necessity Anglophiles, since Henry did all he could to encourage their doctrines.
North of the Tweed, English writers have relied so much on the statements of John Knox and Buchanan that the persistent hostility not only of the King and the clergy but also of the Scottish Commons to Henry’s overtures is generally represented as mere frowardness. It was in fact due to a distrust sufficiently accounted for by the English King’s undeniable complicity in the deliberate fostering of disorder, and more than justified by his re-assertion in public documents of the English claim to suzerainty which had been finally and decisively repudiated at Bannockburn–a repudiation confirmed by treaty [Footnote: It is true that this had not prevented Edward III. from re-asserting the claim.] in 1328.
[Sidenote: Scotland and England, 1541]
In 1541 the attempt was renewed to bring about a conference with the Scots King at York; again it failed, after James had seemed to commit himself. Henry was indignant, and recriminations passed on the subject and on that of border raids, which culminated in the following summer in the affair of Haddon Rigg when an English party was very badly handled. It is a curious illustration of Henry’s notions of honour that–although the two countries were nominally at peace–Wharton, one of the English Wardens of the Marches, proposed to take advantage of James’s 1542 roving propensities and arrange to have him captured and brought prisoner to England; a scheme which Henry apparently approved, but fortunately for his own credit referred to his Council, whose consciences were less adaptable. In October, the English indulged in a week’s invasion of Scotland, and the Scottish King would have responded in kind but that his nobles thought better of it.
[Sidenote: Solway Moss (Nov.)]
The counter-invasion however was not long delayed. The popular accounts of it are mainly derived from the narrative of John Knox; according to whom the Scottish army, ill-led and disorderly, was utterly routed with immense slaughter by three or four hundred English yeomen who succeeded in gathering together and smiting them after the analogy of Gideon. But the dispatches of Wharton [Footnote: _Hamilton Papers._ Lang, Hist. Scot., i., 455. Froude, iv., 190 (Ed. 1864), follows Knox picturesquely.], the Warden of the Marches, show that, acting on some days’ information, he had ready a force of from 2,000 to 3,000 men, with whom, having watched his opportunity, he fell upon the very badly organised Scottish levies and entangled them in the morass called Solway Moss. The completeness of the disaster has not been over-rated; but it was an intelligible operation of war, not a miracle. James was prostrated by the blow. In three weeks time (December 14th, 1542) he was dead, and his week-old daughter Mary inherited the woful burden of the Scottish crown.
[Sidenote: Intervening events]
In the meantime, there had been a futile insurrection in the North, headed by Sir John Neville, in the Spring of 1541; which led to the execution not only of Neville himself, but of the old Countess of Salisbury–niece of Edward IV., mother of the Poles, and grandchild of the “King-maker”. Not long after this, the Norfolk interest suffered a severe shock at Henry’s court from the discovery of flagrant and confessed misconduct on the part of the monarch’s fifth spouse, Katharine Howard; she was attainted and beheaded, in February, 1542, and succeeded by Katharine Parr; who was fortunate enough to outlive her husband.
[Sidenote: 1543 Henry’s Scottish policy]
Solway Moss inspired Henry with a fresh determination to invade and chastise Scotland; but James’s death suggested a simpler method. For the moment, Beton was in the hands of his enemies. Henry proposed that the baby Mary should be betrothed to his own son Edward, that the government of Scotland should be vested in a Council which he could control, and that sundry English garrisons should be planted in the country. The Scots lords captured at Solway Moss were quite ready to promise support to his plans as the price of returning home: they were also ready to break faith with the English King when they got there; and did so. As soon as the lords were out of Henry’s reach, the Scots Estates demanded modifications in the proposed treaty which would have made it nugatory from the English point of view. A Scottish Prince might have been allowed to wed an English Princess; but Scotland would not take her King from England. It was not long before the Cardinal recovered his ascendancy, and, acting in conjunction with the queen-mother, Mary of Guise, sought the aid and alliance of France.
[Sidenote: Alliance with Charles]
The French King was already at war with Charles, and his relations with England were exceedingly strained; whilst he was openly declaring his determination to support Scotland, and French ships were playing the pirate in the Channel. The Emperor on the other hand had quieted the Protestant league by his tolerant attitude at the Diet of Ratisbon (1541); but the Duke of Cleves, Henry’s enemy, was defying him. Hence the whole conditions pointed to an anti-French _rapprochement_ between Charles and Henry; which took the form of a treaty of alliance early in 1543. If the territories of either Power were invaded, the other was to render assistance: and thereafter neither was to make peace unless his ally was satisfied also. The French King attempted to detach England by offering to meet the bulk of her separate requirements; and considering the prevailing standard of bad faith, it is to Henry’s credit that he refused these overtures.
[Sidenote: War with France]
In the early summer Francis invaded Flanders, and an English force, not numerous but in good trim, entered Picardy. The Imperial troops however awaited the arrival of Charles himself from the South, and it was not till August that he took the field, having gathered his army, largely composed of Spanish soldiery, at Spires. But his first objective proved to be not France but Cleves which he brought to rapid submission and treated with great severity. In October he began to concert operations with the English, and a scheme was prepared, to be given effect in the following summer: when the English were to invade France by way of Calais, and the Emperor by way of the Upper Rhine, the two armies converging on Paris.
[Sidenote: 1544 Domestic Affairs]
Though the French campaign was thus deferred, the early months of 1544 were not uneventful. In the realm of domestic affairs, we observe that the King was now resorting with vigour to the worst expedient of bad financiers, a monstrous debasement [Footnote: See _infra_ p. 180] of the currency. Also he had recently raised a considerable forced loan, pending the collection of subsidies already voted by Parliament but not yet due. An act was now passed in effect converting the loan into a gift, by reason of the necessities of the war–a measure not practically different from the voting of an additional subsidy. Parliament also had the satisfaction of being invited to lay down the succession to the throne in accordance with Henry’s wishes, although he had already been empowered to fix it without appeal–an apt illustration of his preference for following Constitutional forms whenever there was no risk of his objects being interfered with. After Prince Edward and his heirs, Mary was to succeed, and after her Elizabeth. Beyond Henry’s own offspring, the claims of the Stewarts through Margaret Tudor were postponed to those of the descendants of the younger sister Mary.
[Sidenote: Intrigues in Scotland]
In Scotland, Beton was in power, carrying out a drastic policy of religious persecution; the nobility were in their normal condition of kaleidoscopic flux, taking sides for or against Henry, the Cardinal, and each other, as the moment’s interests might suggest. The Anglicising party made a pact with England to repudiate the French alliance, hand over the baby Queen if they could, and accept Henry’s control. Scotland was to be invaded. Certain zealous spirits proposed to assassinate the Cardinal if they could do so under Henry’s aegis, but the opportunity passed before he replied to their overtures–to the effect that the scheme was eminently laudable, but that he could not openly move in the matter. The assassination of a tyrant was not looked on as an act deserving of severe moral condemnation; many zealots would have accounted it a virtuous deed, to risk their lives for such an end. But a King [Footnote: Froude, iv., 319 (Ed. 1864), apparently defends Henry on the ground that he regarded Beton as a traitor; and saw “no reason to discourage the despatch of a public enemy”.] who encouraged even while declining to hire assassins stands in a different category from such persons.
[Sidenote: Edinburgh Sacked]
In the beginning of May, Edinburgh was startled by the appearance in the Forth of a great English fleet. The idea of an invasion in this form had never presented itself. There was no army to give battle. The Cardinal and his friends fled. The English landed and sacked Leith. Edinburgh was in no condition for defence; the resistance of the citizens, though stubborn, was easily overwhelmed. The city was pillaged; the county for miles round was laid waste; and then, satisfied with his work of simple destruction, Hertford, the English commander, withdrew. Scotland was leaderless and powerless to strike: for months to come, the English Wardens of the Marches were free to carry out a series of devastating raids with practical immunity. Under these circumstances, Henry dismissed the idea of organising a subordinate government: anarchy in Scotland suited him equally well, without involving responsibilities or taxing his resources. His serious attention was given to the Continent.
[Sidenote: The French War]
During May, separate overtures were made on behalf of France both to Charles and Henry with a view to severing their alliance; each however declined entirely to treat apart from the other. More-over, at the Diet of Spires, Charles took a strong line in favour of the maintenance of the ordinances of Ratisbon and generally of deferring all religious differences till the war with France should be over. With the Pope supporting France and advocating alliance with the Turk as a less dangerous enemy to Christianity than the ecclesiastical rebel of England, Charles was not disposed to show favour to the Catholic princes of the Empire.
[Sidenote: Charles makes peace at Crepy (Sept.)]
The time was now at hand for the campaign to commence: and Henry proposed a modification of the original scheme. According to his view, it would be better for the two armies to concentrate in force on the frontiers while a single detachment penetrated as far into France as might seem wise. Charles however insisted on his plan of two separate invasions. Henry could not refuse, but pointed out that his own march on Paris was conditioned by the thorough reduction of the country as he advanced; notably of Boulogne and Montreuil which would otherwise perpetually threaten his communications. The English proceeded to lay siege to these two places, and the Emperor attacked St. Dizier. Until these strongholds were captured, the two armies were respectively unable to advance. With August, Francis renewed his scheme of making separate overtures accompanied by suggestions to each monarch that his ally was trying to make terms for himself. Each again refused to treat apart from the other. At last St. Dizier fell, and Charles advanced into France, passing by Chalons and a considerable French army which was enabled to act on his line of communications. Hence he very soon found himself in grave difficulties. Thereupon he informed Henry that unless the English marched straight upon Paris, regardless of Boulogne and Montreuil, (which he knew to be strategically impossible) he would have to accept for himself the terms offered by Francis. Boulogne was taken (September 14th) three days after the message was received, but Montreuil held out. Henry had honourably refused to make terms for himself; but on September 19th Charles signed the peace of Crepy–amounting to a simple desertion of his ally.
Boulogne was lost to the French, and though they were now free to concentrate their forces against the English, all attempts to re-capture it were repulsed. Henry felt no disposition to abate his own terms or to resign Boulogne: Francis required him to do both. Charles politely repudiated any obligation to armed intervention, despite the efforts of Gardiner to persuade him–much to the bishop’s disappointment, since the Lutheran Princes, alarmed by the Emperor’s conduct, were again making overtures to England.
[Sidenote: 1545 Ancram Moor]
In Scotland, the policy of destruction adopted by the English throughout 1544 had driven the country to a temporary rally, and a severe reverse was inflicted on the Southron, beguiled into an ambuscade, at Ancram Moor in February 1545; whereby Francis was encouraged to maintain, and Charles to assume, hostility to Henry: who in turn unsuccessfully sought the Lutheran alliance–a failure due to the persistent distrust of the German Princes, who could never make up their minds whether the promises of the King or the Emperor were the less to be relied on. To the quarrel over the desertion of England by Charles at the peace of Crepy, was added a quarrel over the seizure by the English of Flemish ships carrying what would now be called contraband of war, and the arrest in retaliation of English subjects in Flanders.
[Sidenote: A French Invasion]
The isolation of England was complete: and Francis now looked to effect a successful invasion; to which end a great fleet was collected. But there was now a respectable English navy, supplemented by ships from every port on the southern coast. The threat of invasion raised the whole country in arms. In the latter part of July, the French armada was off the Solent, and a landing was accomplished in the Isle of Wight; but though there were various demonstrations and a few skirmishes, there was no general engagement. The French could not get into the Solent: the English would not come out in force, so long as the lack of a sufficient breeze gave the fighting advantage to the enemy’s oar-driven galleys. Finally, plague broke out in the French fleet which retired about the middle of August. Its dispersion allowed of the relief of Boulogne; which was becoming somewhat straitened, being blockaded on the land side by a large army.
[Sidenote: 1546 Terms of Peace]
Thus when the autumn set in, the offensive operations of the French had resulted in complete failure though there had been no important engagement: and in the meantime, the temporary nature of the reverse at Ancram Moor had been demonstrated by renewed ravages in Scotland directed by Hertford. The altered aspect of affairs made Francis ready to treat, and changed the tone of Charles from hostility to conciliation. Negotiations were set on foot; but in the course of them it became clear not only that Henry was determined to keep Boulogne but that Charles had no intention of letting Milan go. England’s readiness to continue the struggle was demonstrated by the strength of the forces she threw onto French soil in the following March, and in May Francis proposed terms. Most of the cash claims were to be paid up; part were to be referred to arbitration; and Boulogne was to remain for eight years in the hands of the English as security. The financial pressure of the war had been terribly heavy, so that the expedient of debasing the coinage had been repeated in order to supplement taxation. Henry accepted the French terms; and almost simultaneously his hands were strengthened by the assassination of his most resolute opponent in Scotland, Cardinal Beton (May 29th, 1546). The Peace with France was concluded in June.
[Sidenote: 1532-46 Events in Europe]
Before proceeding with the account of the ecclesiastical movement in England during these six years, and with the narrative of the concluding six months of Henry’s reign, we must turn aside to observe certain events on the Continent which have not hitherto fallen under our notice, since they did not at the time exercise a direct effect on English policy, and were not immediately influenced thereby. Yet since the treaty of Nuremberg in 1532–the point down to which, in a previous chapter, we followed the course of the Reformation in Europe–a compromise which served as a _modus vivendi_ between the Protestant League and the Catholic subjects of the Empire, important developments had been taking place, which very materially, if indirectly, affected the subsequent course of events in England as well as on the Continent. The period corresponds roughly with the pontificate of Paul III. which lasted from 1534 to 1549.
[Sidenote: The Lutherans and the Papacy]
The idea that the ecclesiastical reconciliation of Christendom was still possible–apart from the banned and recalcitrant sovereign of England–was one of which a considerable body of Churchmen by no means despaired. There were men like Contarini and Pole on the one side and Melanchthon on the other whose doctrinal attitude did not seem to be hopelessly irreconcilable. But while the Lutherans demanded for themselves a latitude of opinion beyond what the Pope would ever have been prepared to concede, the two sides laid down two contradictory propositions as the condition of reconciliation, in respect of the validity of Papal authority. Each was willing, even anxious, for a General Council; but neither would admit one unless so constituted as to imply that its own view was postulated and _ipso facto_ the opposing view ruled out of court. The Emperor, though anti-Lutheran, was unwilling either to enforce his view at the sword’s point, or to subordinate himself to the Pope. The French King was equally ready to win papal favour by persecuting his own protestant subjects, and to encourage the protestant subjects of the Emperor, according as one course or the other seemed more likely to embarrass Charles. Finally the Pope, while set upon the suppression of the Lutheran heretics, was desperately afraid of the accession of strength to Charles which would result from their complete disappearance as a political factor: and he was almost equally afraid that if a Council could not be carried through, Charles would call a national Synod of the Empire to settle the religious question independently.
[Sidenote 1: 1541 Conference of Ratisbon] [Sidenote 2: 1542 Council of Trent]
Thus attempts to bring about a General Council failed repeatedly. The nearest approach to reconciliation was achieved when a conference was arranged at Ratisbon (1541) at which there were papal as well as Lutheran representatives and it seemed as if common ground of agreement was in course of emerging. But Luther himself held aloof; Paul III. would not ratify the concessions that Contarini and others were willing to make. The Conference ended in failure; and Charles–always embarrassed in his dealings with the Protestants by his need of their support against threatening Turkish aggression–was obliged, a good deal against his private inclinations, to reaffirm the Nuremberg toleration. The result was a renewal of negotiations between Pope and Emperor for the calling of a General Council; whereof the outcome was that in May 1542 the Pope summoned the famous Council of Trent which did not conclude its sittings till twenty years later. Although the Council was formally called for the end of the year, it did not succeed in holding a working Session till 1546; after the spring of 1547 it was transferred to Bologna; nor did it get to work again (once more at Trent) till 1551. The fundamental point however is that, by its constitution, the Lutheran controversy was prejudged and the Lutheran party effectively excluded. It was not a Council representing Christendom; it stood for the Church of Rome seeking internal reformation for itself and arrogating Catholicity to itself. Hence arose the custom of using the terms Catholic and Protestant as party labels for those within and without the “orthodox” pale, in spite of the objection more particularly of the Anglican body to its implied exclusion from the “Catholic” Church and inclusion in the same category with the Lutheran and Calvinistic bodies. The historian cannot admit that Rome has a right to monopolise the title of Catholic; but during the period when Europe was practically divided politically into two religious camps, it is difficult to avoid using the current labels though their adoption is in some degree misleading.
[Sidenote: 1548 Death of Luther]
With the convocation of the Council of Trent, such hope as there had been for a reunion of Christendom was practically terminated. Its first working sessions in 1546 were contemporaneous with the death of the man who had led the revolt against Rome. But if Martin Luther had been a great cleaving force, in Germany itself his influence had been consistently exerted for national unity. To him more than to any other man it was due that Germany had not as yet been plunged into a civil war. He was hardly gone, when the forces of discord broke loose.
[Sidenote: 1546-49 Charles and the Protestant League]
Charles in fact found the Schmalkaldic League a thorn in his side, and had for some time been resolved on its extinction should a favourable opportunity occur. His war with Francis was terminated by the Peace [Footnote: P. 162, _ante._] of Crêpy in September 1544; the pressure from Turkey was relaxed; there was no probability that either England or France would commit themselves to helping the League. In the summer of 1546, the League was put to the ban of the Empire; in the following summer it was crushed at the battle of Mühlberg, largely owing to the support given to the Emperor by the young Protestant Duke of Saxony, Maurice. But while this triumph broke up the League, and led Charles to regard himself as all-powerful, it frightened the Pope into an attitude of hostility; the Protestants were not annihilated; the course taken by Charles satisfied neither party within the Empire; and we shall shortly find a new and formidable Nationalist and anti-Spanish movement evolved in Germany with surprising suddenness and effectiveness.
During these years two religious developments had been in progress–one among the Protestants, the other among the Catholics–both destined to play a very large part in future history. These were the rise of John Calvin on one side and on the other the institution of the Society of Jesus familiarly known as the Jesuits.
[Sidenote: The Order Of Jesuits]
This Order was the creation of a Spaniard, Ignatius Loyola. Born in the same year as Henry VIII. he was taking active part as a knight in the wars of 1521, when he was crippled by a cannon shot. He rose from his sick bed a religious enthusiast; with the conception forming in his brain of an association for the service of his Divine Master based on the principles of military obedience carried to the extreme logical point. He devoted many years to training himself, body and brain and soul, for the carrying out of the idea. In course of time he found kindred spirits; at Montmartre in 1534 a little company of seven solemnly vowed themselves to the work. All of them men of birth and high breeding, with rich intellectual endowments and full of an intense devotional fervour, they soon attracted disciples; and in 1543 the new Order was formally sanctioned by the Pope. Utter obedience was their rule, thorough education of their members the primary requirement. Every Jesuit was a consummately cultivated man of the world as well as a religious devotee, responding absolutely to the control of a superior officer as a finished piece of machinery answers to the touch of the engineer; accounting death in the service a welcome martyrdom; shrinking from no act demanded for the fulfilment of orders which might not be questioned. Within a few years of its institution, the Society had developed into one of the most potent organisations, whether for good or for evil, that the world has ever known.
[Sidenote: Calvin]
While Loyola was preparing himself for his work, John Calvin was growing up in Picardy. Having adopted the tenets of the Swiss Reformers, the persecution of the heretics–within French territory–by the Most Christian King compelled him to take refuge in Switzerland. There, when only twenty-seven years of age, he published the work known as the “Institutes,” setting forth that grim theology, the extreme logical outcome of the Zwinglian position, which is associated with his name; a system far more antagonistic to that of Rome than was Luther’s. His head-quarters, save for a brief interval of banishment, were at Geneva, where he established about 1542 an absolute authority, no less rigorous or intolerant of opposition than the papacy itself; constructing a theory of ecclesiastical government that dominated the civil as the old Church had never dominated the State, and carried the stark severity of its controlling supervision into every detail of private conduct: banishing the comparative tolerance and charity which had distinguished the Zurich school.
[Sidenote: The ecclesiastical revolution in England]
In the meantime the course of the Reformation in England had been almost stationary. The whole movement in fact during Henry’s reign took outwardly the form not of a revision of Religion but of a revolution in the relations of Church and State–a revolution already completed when Cromwell was struck down. Until his day, Englishmen–ecclesiastics and laymen alike–recognised the authority of the Holy See, though not always its claim to unqualified obedience. That authority was now finally and totally repudiated: none external to the kingdom was admitted; the Church was affirmed to be the Church of England, coterminous with the State; while a new interpretation was put upon the supremacy heretofore claimed from time to time by the secular Sovereign. Not only was the right assumed by the crown of diverting or even confiscating ecclesiastical revenues and of controlling episcopal appointments–so that it was even held doubtful whether the demise of the ruler did not necessitate re-appointment–but the power was appropriated, (though not in set terms), of ultimately deciding points of doctrine and promulgating the formulae of uniformity. This was the essential change which had taken place: resisted to the point of martyrdom by a few like More and Fisher; submitted to under protest by the majority of the clergy; actively promoted by only a very few of them, such as Cranmer. In asserting the position of the Crown, however, the Defender of the Faith admitted no innovations in doctrine and not many in ritual and observances. Now and again, for political purposes, Henry dallied with the Lutheran League; but in this direction he made no concession.
[Sidenote: 1540-46 Progressives and Reactionaries]
No marked alteration then appears after the death of the Vicar-General. Nevertheless, the contest between the progressive and reactionary parties was not inactive. In one direction alone, however, did the former achieve a distinct success. There was an increasing feeling in favour of the use of the vulgar tongue in place of Latin, not only in rendering the Scriptures but also in the services of the Church. The advanced section had already so far won the contest in respect of the Bible that the reactionaries could only fight for a fresh revision in which stereotyped terms with old associations might be re-instated in place of the new phrases which were compatible with, even if they did not suggest, meanings subversive of traditional ideas–a project which was quashed [Footnote: A revising Commission had been appointed; but was suddenly cancelled, with an announcement that the work was to be entrusted to the Universities; which however was not done. The probable explanation is that Cranmer, seeing the bent of the Commission, influenced the King to withdraw the work from their hands, and it was then allowed to drop.] when its intention became manifest. Measures however were taken to restrict the miscellaneous discussion of doctrine, which had not unnaturally degenerated into frequent displays of gross irreverence and indecent brawling; while on the other hand the use of a Litany in English instead of Latin was by Cranmer’s influence introduced in 1544.
[Sidenote: 1543 The King’s Book]
A year earlier the third formulary of faith–the two preceding had been the Ten Articles and the Bishops’ Book–was issued under the title of the “Erudition of a Christian Man,” popularly known as the “King’s Book”. This was the outcome of a group of reports drawn up by bishops and divines, severally, in answer to a series of questions submitted to them. The reports showed great diversities of opinion on disputed questions; but the book which received the imprimatur of Convocation and of the King was in the main a restatement of the doctrines of the Bishops’ Book with a more explicit declaration on Transubstantiation and on Celibacy in accordance with the Law as laid down in the Six Articles. Throughout the preliminary discussions, Cranmer had championed the most advanced views which had hitherto been held compatible with orthodoxy; and, becoming shortly afterwards the object of direct attack as the real disseminator of heresy, he openly avowed to the King that he retained the opinions he had held before the passing of the Six Articles Act although he obeyed the statute. Henry, to the general surprise, refused to withdraw his favour from the Archbishop, and caused much alarm to the opposing party by the manner in which he rebuked the Primate’s traducers. The circumstances deserve special notice because they show that Cranmer was not the mere cringing time-server that he is sometimes represented to have been; and also as proving that the King himself was for once capable of feeling a sincere and continuous affection.
[Sidenote: Henry stationary]
The hopes of the reactionary party were in fact somewhat dashed by the “King’s Book”; since, despite Cromwell’s death, the Six Articles still marked the limit of their influence. A companion volume, known as the _Rationale_, dealing with rites and ceremonies on lines antagonistic to Cranmer, was refused the royal sanction. Henry never lapsed from his professed attitude of rigid orthodoxy. But he showed an increasing disposition to check random and malignant prosecutions for heresy and to give the accused something like fair trial; more especially after the culminating iniquity of Anne Ascue’s martyrdom (in the last year of his reign) for denying the doctrine of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. The system of ecclesiastical spoliation was also in 1546 rounded off, by the formal transfer to the crown of chantries which had not been swept away in the dissolution of the monasteries.
[Sidenote: 1546 Attainder of Surrey]
The autumn of 1546 arrived. The King’s health was known to be exceedingly precarious, and it was practically certain that there must be some form of regency or protectorate until the boy prince of Wales should attain a responsible age. The most prominent men were on the one side the Duke of Norfolk and Gardiner, on the other the Earl of Hertford and Cranmer. The King’s attitude was more favourable to the second of the two parties; the conduct of the Earl of Surrey, Norfolk’s son, ensured them the domination. Surrey was entitled to bear on his shield the Arms of England, as a descendant of the Plantagenets; [Footnote: See _Front_. He traced through his mother and the Staffords to Edward III, and also through the other line to Thomas, son of Edward I.] but he assumed quarterings proper only to the heir-apparent. He used language which showed that he counted on a Norfolk regency and might have meant that it would be claimed by force. And he was proved to have urged his own sister, Lady Richmond, to become the King’s mistress in order to acquire political influence over him. It was also found that the Duke, his father, long a partisan of France, had held secret conversations with the French Ambassador. These charges were easily construed into treason under the comprehensive interpretation of that term which Thomas Cromwell had introduced. Surrey was sent to the block: his father escaped the same fate merely by the accident that death claimed Henry himself only a few hours after the Act of attainder was passed. The inevitable result followed, that practically the whole power of the State was found to be vested in Hertford and his supporters.
[Sidenote: 1547 Death of Henry]
On the 28th of January 1547, the masterful monarch was dead: to be followed to the grave two months later by one of his two great rivals, Francis. Of the three princes who for thirty years had dominated Europe, only one was left. A greater than any of them–he who, also thirty years ago, had kindled the religious conflagration–Martin Luther, had passed away a twelvemonth before.
CHAPTER XI
HENRY VIII (vii), 1509-47-ASPECTS OF HENRY’S REIGN
[Sidenote: Ireland, 1509-20]
Affairs in the sister island did not, after the final collapse of Perkin Warbeck directly affect the course of events in England: so that they lend themselves more conveniently to summary treatment. Ireland in fact hardly thrust herself forcibly on English notice until Thomas Cromwell was in power, and even then she only received incidental attention.
[Sidenote: Surrey in Ireland, 1520]
It appears to be generally recognised that when Gerald Earl of Kildare finally made up his mind to serve Henry VII. loyally and was for the last time re-instated as Deputy, he proved himself a capable ruler and kept his wilder countrymen in some sort of order. In 1513 he was succeeded in the Deputyship by his son Gerald, who bore a general resemblance to him, but lacked his exceptional audacity and resourcefulness. It was not long before the Earl of Ormonde–head of the Butlers, the traditional rivals of the Fitzgeralds, and chief representative of the loyalist section–was complaining of disorder and misgovernment; and in course of time, Kildare was deposed and Surrey [Footnote: The Surrey who became Duke of Norfolk in 1524, and was under attainder when Henry died in 1547.]–son of the victor of Flodden–was sent over to take matters in hand (1520). Kildare was summoned to England, where after his father’s fashion he made himself popular with the King whom he accompanied to the Field of the Cloth of Gold. Surrey was a capable soldier, and took the soldier’s view of the situation. There would be no settled government until the whole country was brought into subjection; it must be dealt with as Edward I. had dealt with Wales. The chiefs must be made to feel the strong hand by a series of decisive campaigns, the whole country must be systematically garrisoned, and the Englishry must be strengthened by planting settlements of English colonists. Half-measures would be useless, and he could not carry out his programme with a less force than six thousand men.
[Sidenote: Irish policy, 1520-34]
Henry however had no inclination to set about the conquest of Ireland. His own theory, with which it may be assumed that Wolsey, now in the plenitude of his power, was in accord, was more akin to his father’s. Moreover, Wolsey and the Howards were usually in opposition to each other. Surrey was instructed to appeal to the reason of the contumacious chiefs; to point out that obedience to the law is the primary condition of orderly government; to authorise indigenous customs in preference to imposed statutes where it should seem advisable. In fact there were two alternatives; one, to govern by the sword, involving a military occupation of the island; the other to endeavour to enlist the Irish nobles on the side of law and order and to govern through them. The first policy, Surrey’s, was rejected; the second was attempted. But the Irish chiefs had no _a priori_ prejudice in favour of law and order, and something besides rhetoric was needed to convince them that their individual interests would be advanced by such a policy. Henry VII. had prospered by reinstating the old Earl of Kildare; Henry VIII. tried reinstating the young one. But precedents suggested the unfortunate conclusion that a little treason more or less would hurt no one, least of all a Geraldine. Things went on very much as before. Kildare was summoned to London again, rated soundly by Wolsey, suffered a brief imprisonment, and was again restored. Desmond, his kinsman, intrigued with the Emperor, who was in a state of hostility to Henry because of the divorce proceedings; Kildare was accused of complicity, and going to London a third time in 1534 was thrown into the Tower from which he did not again emerge. Henry had just burnt his boats in his quarrel with Rome and was by no means in a placable mood.
[Sidenote: Fitzgerald’s revolt, 1534]
Kildare had named his eldest son Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, a young man of twenty-one, to act as Deputy in his absence; moreover he had so fortified his castle of Maynooth and otherwise made military preparations, as to give colour to the idea that he had rebellion in contemplation. Excited by a report that his father had been put to death, Lord Thomas–known as Silken Thomas from a badge worn by his men–burst into the Council at Dublin, threw down the sword of office, and renounced his allegiance; then raised an insurrection at the head of his friends and followers. Dublin Castle was soon besieged by a large miscellaneous force; the Archbishop, a leader of the loyalists, attempted to escape but was taken and foully murdered; bands of marauders ravaged the Pale. The only effective counter-move was made by Ormonde who rejected Fitzgerald’s overtures, and, in spite of Desmond’s menacing attitude on the South-west, raided the Kildare country, and brought Silken Thomas back in hot haste to defend his own territories.
[Sidenote: 1535 The revolt quelled]
Fitzgerald’s rising began in June. Henry had appointed as Deputy Sir William Skeffington, an old soldier who had held that office before during Kildare’s last suspension. But his departure from England with his troops was delayed. Fitzgerald was back before Dublin in September, after a vain attempt to win over Ormonde who defied him boldly. Again the Kildare lands were raided, and Lord Thomas had to raise the siege; and now at the end of October Skeffington succeeded in crossing the channel and securing Dublin, while the rebels carried fire and sword through the neighbouring districts. For the rest of the winter Skeffington did nothing but send out a futile expedition, a detachment of which was ambuscaded: while the loyalists fumed. In the spring however he shook off some of this inactivity, whether due to sickness, advancing years, or general incompetence, and besieged Maynooth which was reputed impregnable. The fortress fell before long; owing to treachery as tradition relates, but more probably to the improved siege artillery as the official despatches affirm. Most of the garrison were promptly hanged; a fatal blow was dealt to the insurrection. The “pardon of Maynooth” became a proverb. Skeffington, retaining the deputyship, was replaced in command of the army by Lord Leonard Grey, Kildare’s brother-in-law, son of Lord Dorset; to whom ultimately Silken Thomas surrendered under a vague half-promise of lenient treatment. Kildare himself had died in the Tower not long before; Lord Thomas and his principal kinsmen were executed after a little delay; the one surviving representative of the great house which had “ruled all Ireland” was a child, preserved in hiding by loyal friends and retainers. The Geraldine power was at an end.
[Sidenote: 1535-40 Lord Leonard Grey]
Grey himself was now appointed to the deputyship in place of Skeffington, Desmond in the south-west and O’Neill in Ulster carried on the resistance, but were no match for Grey, who followed up his military successes by attempting to carry out the principles of conciliation which Henry had laid down–to the bitter indignation of those loyalists who favoured the methods advocated in the past by Surrey. To this and to Grey’s insolent temper were due violent altercations between him and the Council. A Commission was sent over to examine and set matters straight, but instead the commissioners took sides with the Council or with the Deputy. Affairs were complicated by the application to Ireland of the English theory of ecclesiastical Reformation as understood by Henry and Cromwell. The suppression of the monasteries was acquiesced in (though not till 1541); since their condition was undeniably bad, and the distribution of their property convenient for the recipients; but the revolt from Rome was antagonistic to Irish feeling. Disloyalty to England, the natural and normal condition of three-fourths of the island, received a new authority from the sanction of loyalty to the Church. Grey persisted in his policy of domineering over the English party–who would have preferred to do the domineering themselves–and of laying himself open to the charge of favouring and fostering rebels, especially of the Geraldine faction. Another rising of O’Neill and Desmond in 1539 forced him to reassert his authority, but he again allowed it to appear that he was influenced by his connexion with the Geraldines; and in 1540 he was recalled, attainted, and executed. Experience of Henry had taught the conclusion that to fight the charge of treason was useless; but Grey gained nothing by throwing himself on the royal clemency, though his admission of guilt is not under the circumstances very conclusive.
[Sidenote: 1540 St. Leger]
Whatever the extent of his actual guilt, his downfall was due not so much to his professed policy as to the personal methods adopted which in the end had excited almost universal distrust and hostility. The proof of this lies in the fact that St. Leger, his successor as Deputy, carried out the same nominal policy with very remarkable success, and, it would seem, with general approval: mainly because he applied the principles impartially instead of as a partisan. The agent of conciliation was judicious, clear-headed, and tactful, instead of being injudicious, hot-headed, and tactless. The new Deputy distributed titles and monastic lands with a shrewd perception of the value of the services to be purchased thereby; legal commissioners were appointed who were allowed a due latitude in applying native customs and relaxing the rigour of English law; a number of important chiefs were converted into supporters of the Government instead of its more or less open enemies; the Pale settled down into the condition of a reasonably well ordered State. In the last years of Henry there is a complete disappearance of the wonted turmoil. At length he had found a man capable of administering the policy he had enunciated in 1520. The Deputyship of St. Leger gave promise of initiating a new era; but it showed also how completely the working out of the Irish problem would depend on the character and capacity of the men to whom the task should be successively entrusted.
[Sidenote: Henry “King of Ireland”]
One significant change remains to be noted. Hitherto the King of England had borne the title of Lord of Ireland, the theory being that Ireland was held as a fief from the Pope. As marking a final repudiation of every kind of papal authority, Henry, after the suppression of the Geraldine rising, assumed the style of King of Ireland. The fact that the change was needed has some bearing on the opposed papal and royal claims to Irish allegiance. Wales, it may be remarked, acquired citizenship when for the first time she sent representatives to Parliament in 1537.
[Sidenote: Wolsey’s work]
Throughout the first half of Henry’s reign the figure of the great Cardinal dominates the political field. In two respects at least his work was the extension of what Henry VII. initiated. By his efforts, the personal power of the crown became irresistible; and as the old King raised England from being almost a negligible quantity on the Continent to become at the lowest an effective make-weight in European combinations, so Wolsey raised her still further to a position of equality with the two great Powers which overshadowed all the rest. This he did by the same method of evading serious military operations whenever the evasion was possible, and by the exercise of a diplomatic genius almost unmatched among English statesmen. After his fall, the King’s domestic interests withdrew him from a like active participation in the quarrels of Charles and Francis, although in his last years he became involved in a French war.
[Sidenote: The Army]
It is singular however to observe that Wolsey won for England all the prestige of a great military Power, after a period during which that ancient reputation of hers had been all but completely lost, without any single achievement memorable in the annals of war, and without producing any commander even of the second rank. With the sole exception of Surrey’s victory at Flodden, due rather to the disastrous blunder of James than to the Earl’s exceptional ability, no striking strategical or tactical feats are recorded, and few remarkable displays even of personal valour: nothing at all comparable to the brilliant if sometimes hazardous operations of the great Plantagenets. Nothing more is heard of that once triumphant arm, the Archery: the English bowmen had not, it would seem, lost their cunning, but they could no longer overwhelm hostile battalions. Nor does this seem to have been owing as yet to the displacement of the bow by firearms, though cannon both for defence and destruction of fortresses were improving–as exemplified at Maynooth. In the Scots wars, the border moss-troopers fought after their own fashion: but in the French wars the levies, no longer fighting in bodies following their own lord’s flag, and feeling neither a personal tie to their leaders nor any particular bond among themselves, repeatedly displayed mutinous tendencies–as befel in Ireland under Lord Leonard Grey, and earlier with the entire army commanded by Dorset in 1512 and again with Suffolk’s soldiery in 1523. The transition period from the era of feudal companies to that of disciplined regiments was a long one, particularly in England. During the whole of that period, English armies accomplished no distinguished military achievement.
[Sidenote: The Navy]
It was otherwise with English navies. All through the Tudor period, the nation was steadily realising its maritime capacities. Whether the strategic meaning of “ruling the seas” was understood or not, the century witnessed the rise of the English naval power from comparative insignificance to an actual pre-eminence. The two Henries fostered their fleets; when Elizabeth was reigning, the sea-faring impulse was past any need of artificial encouragement. But it is noteworthy that coast defence and ship-building were almost the only public purposes to which an appreciable share of the King’s ecclesiastical spoils was appropriated. The King’s ships were few, but they were supplemented by an ever-increasing supply of armed merchant-craft; and in the French war at the end of Henry’s reign is the premonition of the great struggle with Spain, in which one most characteristic feature was the comparative reliance of England on sails and of her rivals on oars. As yet however, naval fighting was still governed by military analogies.
[Sidenote: The New World]
Though Henry was keenly interested in ship-building and naval construction, in the matter of ocean voyages and the acquisition of new realms Spain and Portugal still left all competitors far behind. Albuquerque had already founded a Portuguese Maritime empire in the Indian Ocean when Henry VIII. ascended the throne, and Spain was established in the West Indies. In 1513, Balboa sighted the Pacific from the Isthmus of Darien. In 1519 Cortes conquered Mexico; in 1520 Magelhaens passed through the straits [Footnote: It was still believed that Tierra del Fuego was a vast continent stretching to the South.] that bear his name, and his ships completed their voyage round the globe in the course of the next two years; in 1532 Pizarro conquered Peru; Brazil and the River Plate were already discovered and appropriated. All that England had done was represented by some Bristol explorers in the far North, some tentative efforts in the direction of Africa; and some four voyages to Brazil, the first two under William Hawkins, father of the more famous Sir John.
[Sidenote: Absolutism]
As Wolsey’s policy was a development of that of Henry VII. in the direction of raising England’s international prestige, so it was also in the concentration of power in the hands of the sovereign: and the process was carried still further though in a somewhat different way when Wolsey had fallen. It is curious to note that Henry VII. for the first half of his reign ruled by a skilful reliance on parliamentary sanctions, in the second half almost dispensing with parliaments. This order was reversed by his son. For the first twenty years, there were hardly any parliaments: from 1529 there was no prolonged interval without one. The economies of the old King sufficed to support the extravagant expenditure of his successor with only an occasional appeal to the purses of the Commons. It was only the necessities of a war-budget that involved such an appeal, so that none took place between 1514 and 1523. Had Wolsey been permitted to maintain his peace-policy unbroken, there would have been no rebuff from the House of Commons in 1523, no trouble over the Amicable Loan two years later. The country, habituated to an absence of parliaments, might have come to accept a monarchy absolute in form as well as in fact.
[Sidenote: The Parliamentary sanction]
But when Wolsey fell, Henry was embarking on a policy in which he knew that he must keep the nation on his side; the support of the body representing the nation must be secured. Whether that support was granted spontaneously, or was encouraged by manipulation, or spurred by the menace of coercion, was comparatively unimportant. The powers which the King was resolved to exercise must ostensibly at least have the sanction of national approval. The thing was managed with such thoroughness that long before the close of the reign the royal absolutism was confirmed by the Act which gave the force of law to the King’s proclamations, and by the authorisation for him to devise the crown by will; and with such skill that Henry’s and Cromwell’s critics are obliged to fall back on the alleged subserviency of the parliaments to account for it, although these same subservient parliaments were quite capable of offering an obstinate resistance whenever their own pockets were threatened. Henry was one of those born rulers who impress their own views on masses of men by force of will. He made the country believe that it was with him. But behind the dominant force of will, he possessed the instinctive sense of its limits, besides being endowed with that final remorseless selfishness which made him ready to make scape-goats of the most loyal servants, to deny responsibility himself and to fling the odium upon them, as soon as he found that those limits had been transgressed.
[Sidenote: Depression of the Nobles]
Alike, then, by his disuse and his use of parliaments, Henry strengthened the royal power, the initiative of all legislation remaining in his hands. To the same end he continued to depress the great nobles and to create a new nobility dependent on royal favour. All who threatened to display a dangerous ambition, from Buckingham on, were struck down; the House of Norfolk survived till the end of the reign, when the Duke was attainted and his son was sent to the block. No ancient House was represented in the Council of Regency nominated under Henry’s will. The men who served the King were those whom he had himself raised, and could himself cast down with a word. The edifice of his absolutism was complete, though it was modified by the conditions under which his son and his two daughters succeeded to the throne.
[Sidenote: Parliament and the purse]
The theory of absolutism from Richard II. to Wolsey had been that the King should make it his aim to rule without parliaments; whereas we are confronted with the apparent paradox that Henry was never more absolute than when his parliaments were in almost continual session. The explanation lies in this, that he did not usually call them to ask them for money out of their own pockets; for the most part he invited them to approve of his taxing some one else, by confiscations or the conversion of loans received into free gifts–a much more congenial task. The King had found other methods of raising revenues than by appealing to the generosity of his faithful Commons–methods which in effect relieved them of demands which they would otherwise have been obliged to face. The vast sums wrung from Convocation or from the Monasteries went to relieve the Commons from taxes. The parliament of 1523, summoned to grant subsidies, faced Wolsey with an independence which fully justified the minister in avoiding the risk of similar rebuffs: the Reformation parliament itself offered a stubborn resistance to the Bill of Wards, which touched its own pocket. Independence and resistance vanished when the incentive was withdrawn, and the diversion of the stream of ecclesiastical wealth into the abysses of the royal treasury was acquiesced in with a certain enthusiasm. The King got the credit of the ends secured, his minister the odium for the methods of obtaining them: and so year by year the crown became more potent.
[Sidenote: The Land]
The economic troubles brought about mainly by the new agricultural conditions in the reign of the first Tudor were exaggerated in that of the second, and were further intensified by the dissolution of the Monasteries. The evils at which More pointed in his _Utopia_, when Henry VIII. had been but seven years on the throne, showed no diminution when another thirty years had passed. The new landowners who came into possession of forfeited estates or of confiscated monastic lands continued to substitute pasture for tillage, and to dispossess the agricultural population as well by the reduced demand for labour as by rack-renting and evictions. The country swarmed with sturdy beggars; and the riotous behaviour encouraged when religious houses were dismantled or even “visited” must have tended greatly to increase the spirit of disorder, evidenced by the frequent popular brawling over the public reading of the Bible. The usual remedies of punishing vagabondage, and of attempting to force industry into unsuitable fields and to drive capital into less lucrative investment in order to provide employment, failed–also as usual. The landowners did not emulate the monastic practice of dispensing charity, so that distress went unrelieved. Charity often encourages un-thrift; but its absence sometimes leads not to industry but to thieving; and in this reign, crimes of violence were notably abundant. The economic conditions were therefore in fact unfavourable to thrift. But apart from economic conditions, the practice of that virtue is apt to be largely influenced by social standards. An ultra-extravagant court, and the calculated magnificence of such a minister as Wolsey, went far to induce a reckless habit of expenditure in the upper classes; and the inordinate display of the Field of the Cloth of Gold was merely an extreme instance of the prevalent passion for costly pageantries.
[Sidenote: Finance]
The resulting distress was not compensated in other directions. During the earlier half of the reign, Commerce did no doubt continue to prosper; but the King’s financial methods were hardly more conducive to public industry and thrift than his personal example. Wolsey indeed was an able finance minister. In spite of the enormous expenditure on display, his mastery of detail prevented mere waste; and until the pressing necessities of a war-budget arose in 1523, enough money was found by tapping the sources to which Henry VII. had applied, supplemented by the ample hoards which that monarch had left behind. In 1523, the Cardinal’s scheme of graduated taxation was sound and scientific in principle, so far as existing methods of assessment permitted. But for the remaining years of his life, the process of raising money to meet the King’s requirements was exceedingly difficult and unpopular. After his death, the King discovered an additional and productive source of revenue in the property of the Church; but even this did not suffice for his needs.
[Sidenote: The Currency]
Henry therefore resorted to an expedient as disastrous as it was dishonest–a wholesale debasement of the coinage, which was continued into the following reign and was remedied only under Elizabeth. The first experiment was made as early as 1526; but it was the financial embarrassments of Henry’s last years which brought about a debasement that was almost catastrophic. From 1543 to 1551 matters went from bad to worse till the currency was in a state of chaos: and the silver coin issued in the last year contained only one-seventh of the pure metal that went to that of twenty-five years before.
It followed that the purchasing power of the debased coinage sank–in other words, prices went up. On the other hand, the new coin remaining legal tender in England up to any amount, creditors who were paid in it lost heavily, the Royal debtor–and others–discharging their obligations by what was practically a payment of a few shillings in the pound. Also as a matter of course, the better coins, with each fresh debasement, passed out of the country or at any rate out of circulation, the base coins becoming the medium of exchange. Thus the foundations of commercial stability were sapped, while foreign trading operations were thrown into desperate and ruinous confusion.
Nor did the evil end here. For the influx of silver and gold from the Spanish possessions in America, though its effects were felt only very gradually, tended to depreciate the exchange value of the metals themselves. This depreciation, added to the debasement, further increased the rise of prices. But while prices went up, money-wages did not rise in anything like the same proportion; labour being cheapened by the continuous displacement of the agricultural population, which was not attended by an equivalent increase of employment in the towns, and by the dissolution of the monasteries, which at the same time wiped out the sole existing system of poor-relief. The natural Economic transition that began in the previous reign, while producing wealth, was also attended by distress: now, for a vast proportion of the population, Henry’s artifical expedients for filling his own coffers converted distress into grinding want, destitution, and desperation.
[Sidenote: Learning and Letters]
The earlier half of the reign promised well for Education; but the promise was not duly fulfilled in the latter portion. The funds which Wolsey would have devoted to that object were wanted for other purposes. The Universities discarded the study of the schoolmen, but their attention was absorbed rather by loud-voiced wrangling than by the pursuit of learning. Nevertheless, in great families at least, the education of the younger members was carried to a high pitch. The King, a man of accomplishments which would have made him remarkable in any station, himself set the example, and in this respect at least his children were not lacking; the literary impulse was at work.
[Sidenote 1: The _Utopia_]
[Sidenote 2: Prose and Verse]
[Sidenote 3: Surrey and Wyatt]
Yet the literary achievements of Henry’s time can hardly be called great. One work by an Englishman, More’s _Utopia_, alone stands out as a classic on its own merits: and that was written in Latin, and remained untranslated till a later reign. In its characteristic undercurrent of humour, and its audacious idealism, it betrays the student of Plato; standing almost alone as a product of the dawning culture. Partly by direct statement, partly by implication, we may gather from it much information as to the state of England in Henry’s early years, much as to the political philosophy of the finer minds of the day. But that philosophy was choked by revolution; More himself so far departed from its tenets of toleration as to become a religious persecutor. Most of the English writing of the reign took the form of controversial or personal pamphlets in prose or verse; such as the extravagant _Supplicacyon for the Beggers_, a rabid tirade against the clergy, or Skelton’s rhyme _Why come ye nal to Court_, an attack chiefly on the Cardinal. The splendid raciness of Hugh Latimer’s sermons belongs to oratory rather than to letters. The exquisite prose of Cranmer found its perfection in the solemn music of the Prayer-book of Edward VI. The translations of the Bible made no great advance on Wiclif. In the realm of verse, John Skelton was a powerful satirist with a unique manipulation of doggerel which has permanently associated a particular type of rhyme with his name; an original and versatile writer was Skelton, but without that new critical sense of style which was to become so marked a feature of the great literary outburst under Elizabeth. Herein, two minor poets alone, Surrey and Wyatt, appear as harbingers of the coming day. A hundred anonymous writers of Gloriana’s time produced verses as good as the best of either Wyatt or Surrey; but these two at least discovered the way which, once found, became comparatively easy to tread. They introduced the sonnet, learnt from Petrarch; Surrey (the same who was executed on the eve of Henry’s death) wrote the first English blank verse. The moribund tradition of the successors of Chaucer continued to find better exponents in Scotland than in England, in the persons first of bishop Gawain Douglas–who perhaps should rather be connected with the previous reign–and later of Sir David Lyndsay. But doctrinal controversy does not provide the best atmosphere for artistic expression. The whole literature of the reign, while showing emphatic signs of reviving intellectual activity, is remarkable not for its own excellence, for profundity of thought, intensity of passion, or mastery of form, but as exhibiting the first random and tentative workings of the new spirit.
[Sidenote: Estimate of Henry VII.]
The most arresting figure of the period is that of Henry himself. No English King has been presented by historians in more contradictory colours than he. One has painted him as the Warrior of God who purged the land of the Unclean Thing: to another he is merely a libidinous tyrant. One contrasts his honesty and honour with the habitual falsehood of his contemporaries: to another he appears supreme in treachery. In fact, there is an element of truth in both estimates, however exaggerated.
[Sidenote: His Morals]
In the matter of personal morality, in the restricted sense, it does not appear–in spite of his list of wives–that he compares unfavourably with contemporary princes. He had only one child certainly born out of wedlock–which cannot be said even of Charles V., [Footnote: It should perhaps be remarked that whenever Charles had a wife living he appears to have been faithful to her. His divagations took place in the intervals.] and contrasts with the unbridled profligacy of Francis, the frequent amours of his Stewart brother-in-law and nephew. The stories of his relations with both Anne and Mary Boleyn before the marriage, even if untrue (which is not probable), would never have been told of a man whose life was clean; but it is what may be called the accident of his numerous marriages which has given a misleading prominence to licentious tendencies not perhaps abnormally developed. With the exception of his passion for Anne Boleyn, there is no trace of his amours influencing his general conduct: and it is at least probable that after the death of Jane Seymour he would have remained a widower, but for the desire to make the succession more secure. Yet the story of his reign hinges upon the Divorce; and in the divorce, however much other considerations may have influenced him, the controlling consideration was the determination to make Anne Boleyn his wife since she would have him on no other terms. That fact, with the disastrous termination of the marriage with her, the fiasco of Anne of Cleves, and the catastrophe of Katharine Howard, is responsible for the somewhat mythical monster of popular imagination. The man who divorced two wives and beheaded two more is too suggestive of Bluebeard to be readily regarded as after all to some extent the victim of circumstance.
[Sidenote: His general character]
While Anne Boleyn was the object of his pursuit, Henry was dominated by his passion for her: but that passion cooled quickly enough after possession. Jane Seymour was not his wife long enough to put him to the test: but it would certainly seem that his affections were short-lived and easily transferred. This was manifestly the case with men: at least it never appeared to cause him a moment’s compunction to hand over an intimate to the executioner. While a man was rendering him efficient service the King was lavish of praises and rewards; when the need for him was past the services were forgotten. His sentiments were always of the loftiest; it habitually “consorted not with his honour or his conscience” to do otherwise than he did; but the correspondence between his honour and conscience on one side and his personal advantage on the other presents a unique phenomenon. His conscience permitted him to connive at schemes for kidnapping the King of Scots or assassinating his ministers, and his honour permitted him to encourage his own servants in a course of action for which he had subsequently no hesitation in sending them to the block. He could give, prodigally; but what he gave had generally been taken from some one else. He could protest against the cruel burden of the annates, and then absorb them himself. And with all this, it is not difficult to suppose that he constantly persuaded himself that he was an honest man beset with dishonest rogues, since he rarely broke the letter of an engagement except on the pretext of bad faith made manifest in the other party.
[Sidenote 1: His peculiar abilities]
[Sidenote 2: Intention and achievement]
Henry’s ethical standards were thus in no way calculated to hamper his actions, owing to his happy capacity for colouring his actions in conformity with them. When he set an end before himself, no influence could make him waver a hair’s-breadth in his pursuit of it, and he spared neither friend nor foe in the attainment of it. As a statesman he did not lay down far-seeing designs. But he had the art of maintaining popularity, and a shrewd eye for a good servant. Thus as a rule he gave Wolsey a free hand and very vigorous support. But when he elected to order a change of policy, the Cardinal proved to have been right and the King wrong. His candidature for the Empire, and his dreams of the French and Scottish thrones show him capable of indulging in entirely impracticable visions. The vital achievement of his reign was the severance from Rome; and that was merely–as far as he was concerned–the accidental outcome of the Pope’s opposition to the Divorce. In the destruction of the ecclesiastical _imperium in imperio_, the subordination of the Church to the State, it is difficult to tell how far the policy was his own and how far it was Cromwell’s; but the King never recognised as Cromwell did that the logical corollary of the whole ecclesiastical policy was a Protestant League. The defiance of Rome, and the subjection and spoliation of the Church, were accompanied by a measure in which Cranmer was the moving spirit, and to which Henry gave full support–the open admission of the Scriptures in the vernacular–which made it no longer possible for the individual to disclaim responsibility on the score that the priesthood alone held the key to the mysteries of religion. This was in truth the keystone of the Reformation, since it entailed upon every man the _duty_ of private judgment even though the _right_ continued to be denied; yet this was not the effect which Henry contemplated. Hence, out of the four points in the ecclesiastical revolution of the reign: the subordination of the Church to the State was a constitutional change absolutely Henry’s or Cromwell’s own; the spoliation was the same, but reflects no credit on either; the severance from Rome was an accident; and the creation of the duty, to be ultimately recognised as the right, of private judgment was unintentional. And on the kindred subject, the persecution of innovators labelled as heretics, Henry’s policy represented nothing but the commonplace attitude of Authority in his times.
[Sidenote: A Dominant personality]
We cannot, in short, find in Henry a statesman remarkable for far-sighted perceptions or ennobling idealism: but he gauged the sentiment of his subjects and the abilities of his servants acutely and was shrewd enough as a rule to identify himself with the schemes of those whom he trusted. Nevertheless he stands out, with all his faults, as a very tyrannical King yet a very kingly tyrant. If his personal ambitions and desires over-ruled other considerations, he never forgot the greatness of the country he ruled, and his personal ambitions at least involved England’s magnification. For good or for evil, his actions were on a great scale. He knew his own mind, and he never shrank from the risks involved in giving his will effect. He defied successfully the Power which had brought the mightiest monarchs to their knees. He had the kingly quality, shared by his great daughter, of inspiring in his servants a devotion which made them ready to sacrifice everything for his glorification. Two of the most powerful ministers known in English history recognised the domination of his personality whenever he chose to exercise it.
[Sidenote: Summary]
Even when he was most feared he maintained his place in the popular affection. His parliaments carried out his will, but his will and theirs were in conformity: while Wolsey ruled, he rarely consulted them, but after Wolsey’s fall they were called upon to ratify all the King’s measures, and were in frequent session. He promoted a revolution, but while he lived he controlled it; through all the accompanying shocks and upheavals his mastery remained unshaken. The proof of the man’s essential force, the greatness we may not deny him, is made manifest by the chaos which followed his death. He was gross; he was cruel; he was a robber; he suborned traitors and was prepared to suborn assassins; but his selfishness, flagrant as it was, did not wholly absorb him; behind it there was a sense of the greatness of his office, a desire to make England great; and therewith he had the indomitable resolution and the untiring energy for lack of which statesmen have failed who intellectually and morally stand far above him, while no monarch has left on the history of England a stamp more indelible than Henry VIII.
CHAPTER XII
EDWARD VI (i), 1547-49–THE PROTECTOR SOMERSET
[Sidenote: 1547 Jan.-Feb. The New Government]
In accordance with the extraordinary powers granted to him, Henry VIII. laid down in his will both the order of succession to the throne and the method of government to be followed during his son’s minority. Under this instrument he nominated sixteen “executors,” forming virtually a Council of Regency, giving precedence to none. Superficially, the list represented both the progressive and the reactionary parties. Cranmer was balanced by Tunstal of Durham; Wriothesly the Lord Chancellor was a strong Catholic. But as a matter of fact, the influential men belonged for the most part to the advanced section. Edward Seymour, Lord Hertford, was their leader: but Paget, Dudley (Lord Lisle), Russell, and Herbert, were all of the same way of thinking. None of the rest were of the same weight as these; while Norfolk, the natural head of the conservative nobility was a prisoner in the Tower, and Gardiner, the ablest of the ecclesiastics, was omitted from the list.
Henry died in the early morning on January 28th; the fact was not made public till the 31st; and in the meantime, Hertford had carried the Council, which forthwith nominated him Lord Protector. The next step was a distribution of honours: Hertford was made Duke of Somerset; his brother, the Lord Admiral, (not an executor), Lord Seymour of Sudeley; Dudley became Earl of Warwick, Wriothesly Earl of Southampton, and Parr, brother of the late King’s widow, Earl of Northampton. A couple of months later, that lady–who had succeeded in surviving two husbands including Henry–herself wedded Seymour of Sudeley,
Southampton was the one man whose opposition on the Council was to be feared; and he gave himself into his enemies’ hands by an act of indiscretion. He issued a commission appointing four judges to act in the Court of Chancery, under the Great Seal, on his own responsibility: and was promptly declared to have forfeited his office which was bestowed upon Rich. This was immediately followed by the granting of new powers to the Protector, enabling him to act virtually without consulting the Executors: while he was already guardian of the King’s person. In effect, Somerset meant himself, as representing Edward, to exercise all those powers which had been surrendered to the formidable Henry. In the meantime, the trend of the ecclesiastical policy to be anticipated was shown by the treatment of the bishops; who–with the approval of Cranmer–were required to receive their commissions anew from the new King as though they had been Civil servants. Cranmer, in the Coronation sermon, made pointed references to Josiah, which could only be regarded as precursors of a war against “images,” and the more advanced among the clergy began to express themselves with a freedom which would have been very promptly and unpleasantly dealt with by the late King. Ecclesiastical conventions received a startling shock when it was made known that the Primate himself was openly eating meat in Lent.
To carry the Reformation beyond the stage at which it had been left by Henry in a tolerably peaceful manner was a sufficient task in itself; but the situation which the new Government found that it had to face, by the time Somerset had secured his position, towards the end of March, was complicated by many additional problems–not least among these being the lack of funds.
[Sidenote: Relations with France]
The recent peace with France had given the English Boulogne for eight years as security for the payment of a substantial annual sum. But while this might be looked upon as a valuable diplomatic asset–a means to graceful concession in return for adequate benefits–it remained an incitement to French hostility; the more so when Francis I. followed his great contemporary to the grave after less than two months, and was succeeded by Henry II.; with whom the retention of Boulogne was a particularly sore point, as he had failed in an attempt to recapture it. If England found herself in difficulties it was tolerably certain that France would try to recover Boulogne without waiting the eight years for its restitution.
[Sidenote: with Scotland]
France was not unlikely to find her opportunity in Scotland. There the group who had murdered Cardinal Beton in the previous summer retained the castle of St. Andrews in defiance of the weak government, at whose head were the regent Arran and the queen-mother Mary of Guise, whose family was now the most influential in France. The one means by which an English party could be maintained in Scotland was the giving active support to the “Castilians” as the St. Andrews faction was called; whereas French interference on behalf of the Government would immensely strengthen the anti-English party.
[Sidenote: with Charles V.]
The German situation was more complicated. The Emperor, supported by Maurice of Saxony, was at war with the Lutheran League. As yet the issue of that contest was doubtful; the League had at least a chance of success, but had appealed to England for aid. Charles on the other hand, not wishing for war with England, had declined the Pope’s suggestion that he should enforce the substitution of Mary for Edward on the English throne: the Pope was annoyed, because the Schmalkaldic war was being fought on a political and not a theological issue; and he was alienating Charles by withdrawing the Council of Trent from that city, which was within Imperial territory, to Bologna where Italian influences would be predominant. If then England intervened on behalf of the League, she would reconcile the Pope and the Emperor, and possibly unite them with France against herself. If she stood aside, she would lose the chance of creating a powerful Protestant League, while experience had shown that any gratitude Charles might feel would count for less than nothing in determining his future policy. The Government hesitated; and while they temporised, the Emperor by a sudden blow became master of the situation. At the end of April, crossing a river by night, he fell upon the unexpectant army of the League at Mühlberg, crushed it, and secured its chiefs. The League of Schmalkald was irrevocably shattered. No effective counterpoise to his power was apparent within the Empire. Now however the task before Charles was to organise the supremacy which had at last become convincingly actual. This, and his quarrel with the Pope over Trent and Bologna, was likely to keep his hands full for some time. Thus the important thing for the Protector was more emphatically than before to conciliate France and gain over a strong party in Scotland to support the policy of friendly relations with England; whereof the chief corner stone was still the marriage of Edward who was about ten years old to the four-year-old Queen of Scots.
[Sidenote: Somerset’s Scottish policy]
But Somerset did not conciliate France, which had recently been further irritated by the construction of so-called harbour works at Boulogne which were evidently intended to be fortified, contrary to the treaty; while in Scotland he was meditating a step which could only drive that country into the arms of France.
Somerset in fact was one of those visionaries who are the despair of more clear-sighted persons who are in sympathy with their objects. He suffered from a permanent incapacity for realising the immense difficulties in his way, and the infinite tact necessary to the accomplishment of his aims. Hence the methods he adopted were invariably calculated to bring into full play every conceivable force that could act in opposition. Sincerely anxious to alleviate the lot of the rural population, he went out of his way to irritate the landlord class into more effective combination. Almost alone in a desire for the widest religious toleration, the moderation of his ecclesiastical laws was discounted by the licence of speech and action allowed to the progressives. In like manner, his theory of Scottish policy was admirable, his practice absurd. The Union of England and Scotland was his ideal, as it was to be the ideal in later years of that most acute of Scottish politicians, Lethington. But he could not appreciate the absolute necessity that the Union should be by consent; and even while endeavouring to procure it by consent, for which he appealed in noble language whereof the sincerity is apparent, he adopted methods which aroused the hostility even of those Scots who were most favourably disposed to Union in the abstract. By making common cause with the Reformers, he might have check-mated France; yet he neglected his opportunity. His own solution of the problem was the marriage of Edward and Mary, which he might have brought about by diplomatic persuasion, or by carrying the Reformers with him. Yet he could see nothing for it but to dictate his terms at the sword’s point, the one quite certain way of making sure that they would be rejected, by setting even the Reformers against him. To make matters worse, it was in his mind to re-assert the English sovereignty; to which Henry had indeed audaciously affirmed his claim, though only as a right held in reserve. This intention he had already conveyed not to the Scots but to the French who warned him that they would stand by their old allies: while the mere suspicion of such an insult in Scotland was enough to rouse the fiercest hostility of the whole nation.
[Sidenote: Pinkie (Sept.)]
The natural result was that while Somerset was contenting himself with border raids, instead of espousing the cause of the Castilians, Prance was acting. About the beginning of July a French fleet appeared off St. Andrews; at the end of the month the castle surrendered. English ships might have prevented this, but the Protector elected instead to prepare a great invasion. In September he was over the border, in command of a considerable army, supported by a large fleet. The Scots of all parties mustered in force and were lying between the advancing English and Edinburgh in a strong defensive position not far from the spot made memorable two hundred years later by the rout of Prestonpans. The English ships were in the Forth hard by. The Scots in essence repeated the blunder of Flodden before and of Dunbar later. A successful attack by Somerset, who had the smaller army, was almost impossible; they thought that he was delivered into their hand, and mistook a tactical movement for a retreat to the ships. Abandoning their position and racing to cut him off, their leading troops received and broke a charge of horse; but the mass of the English, who were greatly superior in cavalry and artillery, and whose advance had been concealed by the formation of the ground, were already at hand and fell upon them. The Scottish army was completely shattered; ten thousand dead or dying men were left on the field of Pinkie Cleugh. The English loss was small.
[Sidenote: Effect of Pinkie]
Somerset however merely did very much what he had done before when he sacked Edinburgh in the last reign, ravaging and retiring. Pillage and destruction were arguments which invariably stiffened Scottish defiance, and it was now absolutely certain that the Scots would not consent on any terms to the English marriage. Dictation from England by force of arms was the one method of minimising the internal warring of factions in the Northern Country. Had Somerset been prepared to follow up his campaign by an effective military occupation, his plans might have been dignified with the name of a policy. In practice, they amounted almost to a negation of policy. A month after the battle the only effective result for Scotland was a renewed and intensified bitterness of hatred to England, and a corresponding inclination to amity with France. The practical reply to the invasion was the proposal to France of a marriage between the Queen of Scots and the Dauphin.
For the Protector himself however, the victory of Pinkie was a personal triumph. He returned to England in a halo of military glory and popularity, to receive new compliments and honours, and to assume the rôle of beneficent dictator with self-complacent confidence when Parliament met for the first time in the beginning of November.
[Sidenote: The Progressive Reformers]
In the meantime the progressive Reformers, increasingly guided by Swiss rather than Lutheran ideas, were already hurrying forward with their schemes, acting upon Royal proclamations under the authority of the Council. Injunctions were issued for the destruction of “abused” images which term was liberally interpreted so as to cover stained glass, paintings, and carvings which might conceivably be regarded as objects of idolatry–that is to say, become in themselves objects of worship instead of being recognised as mere symbols: a process which unless conducted with the most studied moderation and caution was absolutely certain to give the rein not only to passionate zealotry but to wanton irreverence. Cranmer obtained an order for the reading in churches of the “Book of Homilies,” for the most part in lieu of all other preaching. The _Paraphrase_ of Erasmus, done into English, was ordered to be set up in the churches. A commission was issued for a Royal Visitation, superseding the authority of the bishops, though some months elapsed before this was fairly at work. Paget, having the instincts of statesmanship, endeavoured to warn Somerset against keeping too many irons in the fire; but Paget was guided solely by political expediency, not by principle. The one man who did boldly take up his stand on principle was Gardiner. His remonstrances were open. He urged that the intentions of the dead King should be carried out; that no revolutionary changes should be introduced during Edward’s minority; that arbitrary proclamations by the Council had no sanction of law; that the personal powers bestowed upon Henry remained in abeyance until the young King should be of age; that aggressive measures in Scotland ought to be similarly deferred. The introduction of the Homilies, he argued, to which authorisation had been refused in the last reign, was in itself unjustifiable in the circumstances; the more so as–mainly by their omissions–they were inconsistent with the doctrinal attitude affirmed by Henry’s legislation. Gardiner’s remonstrances, supported by Bonner, bishop of London, were of no effect. Matters came to a head when the two bishops refused to submit without qualification to the injunctions. Both were imprisoned in the Fleet, while Somerset was in Scotland.
[Sidenote: Nov. Repeal of more stringent laws; Social legislation]
In November, Parliament met, and began its career of benign legislation. Since Cromwell’s day, the land had lain under the grip of ruthless laws. Of these the sternest were repealed as no longer necessary. The Treasons Act disappeared; so did the old Acts against the Lollards; so did the Act of the Six Articles. A curious attempt was made to deal with the problem of vagrancy, the outcome of prevalent economic conditions, which the penalties of flogging and hanging had failed to repress. The vagrant was to be brought before the magistrates, branded, and handed over to some honest person as a “slave” for two years. If he attempted to escape from servitude, he was to be branded again and made a slave for life; if still refractory he could be sentenced as a felon. The intention of the Act was merciful, its effect probably more degrading than that of the superseded statutes. At any rate, it failed entirely of its purpose and was repealed after two years.
[Sidenote: Ecclesiastical legislation]
In matters ecclesiastical, Parliament on its own account abolished the form of the _congé d’élire_, giving the appointments directly into the King’s hands. Also the chantries and other foundations which had been conferred on Henry, but had not been suppressed by him, were now–despite the strong opposition of Cranmer, Tunstal, and a few of the bishops– formally subjected to the Council and for the most part abolished. It is to be noted however that of the Church property acquired by the crown in this reign a comparatively respectable though still niggardly proportion was re-appropriated to educational purposes. [Footnote: In most cases, only in the way of restoring pre-existing endowments.]
[Sidenote: 1548]
Convocation, sitting concurrently with Parliament, presented petitions for representation of the clergy in parliament, for the administration of the Communion in both kinds to the laity, for the suppression of irreverent language about the Sacrament, and for sanctioning the marriage of the clergy. The first was ignored; the two next were embodied in Acts of Parliament; the last was deferred for a year. The session was rounded off in January by a general pardon, except for the graver offences; with the result that the imprisoned bishops were for a time released.
[Sidenote: Progress of Reformation]
Between this and the next session of Parliament, in November, the arbitrary method of proceeding by proclamations was in full force. The Reformers did not as yet press advanced doctrinal views. There was a proclamation for the observance of the Lenten Fast–expressly for the sake of the fisheries. Another enforced a new Communion Office, pending the completion of a new Prayer-book; but in this the service of the Mass remained unaltered and in Latin: no doctrinal change was implied, though the Communion in both kinds was ordered to be administered to the laity, in accordance with the recent Act and the recommendation of Convocation. More significant was a further proclamation for the destruction of “images,” in which the distinction between “abused” images and others, previously laid down, was cancelled. In the meantime no unauthorised innovations were to be permitted. Cranmer was still striving vainly after his ideal of a conference between leading continental and English reformers, who should come to an agreement upon a common body of doctrine. It was _prima facie_ reasonable that while awaiting the new authoritative formularies, now avowedly in course of preparation by a commission on which the Catholic party was not unrepresented, partisan preaching should be discouraged, and all but licensed preachers be confined to the Homilies; it was however unfortunate that the licences for preaching should have been systematically granted both by Somerset and Cranmer–to whom the power was restricted–only to keen and sometimes extravagant partisans of the “New Learning”; a term at that time appropriated to the advocates of Protestantism at large. It is not surprising that Gardiner so far placed himself in opposition as to be called upon to express publicly his approval of these proceedings, nor that he should have found himself unable to do so in terms satisfactory to the Council. Before the summer was over the Bishop of Winchester was relegated to the Tower. More unfortunate still was the encouragement to sacrilegious irreverence given by the personal conduct of the Protector, who pulled down one chapel and began to lay hands on another in order to build himself a new palace.
[Sidenote: Somerset’s ideas]
Nor were Somerset’s activities confined to the campaign against “idolatry,” a term conveniently used to include any observances which, in the eyes of the Swiss school, savoured of superstition. With no sense of the limitations of his own intelligence, no suspicion of the subtle skill in adjustment needed at all times to impose ideals on a materially minded community, unable to realise that though his object might be excellent the methods adopted in achieving it might be fruitful of unexpected evils, he conceived in his arrogant self-confidence that he had but to say the word and difficulties would vanish. He resolved to appear as the Poor Man’s Friend, establishing a Court of Requests in his own house so that appeal might be made personally to him from the normal processes of the Law; also, he appointed a commission to investigate and deal with that evasion of the agricultural statutes which he imagined to be the actual cause of the prevailing distress. The end in view was admirable, the method high-handed and unconstitutional: the policy won him popularity for the time among the depressed classes, but roused the enmity of nobility and gentry without achieving useful results.
[Sidenote: The French in Scotland]
Meanwhile, affairs in Scotland were aggravating the tension with France, where the proposal to marry the Scots Queen to the French Dauphin was approved. English troops harried the borders, and in the course of the spring captured and garrisoned Haddington. French troops were landed in Scotland, and the marriage proposal was formally ratified; in spite of a belated offer from the Protector to leave Scotland alone and postpone his own marriage scheme till Edward and Mary were old enough to have views of their own, provided that Scotland would hold aloof from France. French ships, evading the English by sailing round the Orkneys, took Mary on board on the west coast and carried her off in safety to France. A diplomatist would have seized the chance of reviving an English party, when it was found that a violent animosity was growing up between the Scots and the French troops; but the opportunity was allowed to pass, and the animosities were reconciled by some minor successes of Scots and French together against the English: while privateering operations–in other words, authorised piracy–were going on in and near the Channel, which amounted to something not far removed from a state of war between France and England.
[Sidenote: The Augsburg Interim]
It was fortunate that affairs in Germany continued to preclude that union of the Catholic Powers against England which the Pope desired; since neither Charles nor Paul would bend to the other. Charles, with no one to fear since Mühlberg had witnessed the destruction of the League of Schmalkald, was preparing future disaster by his high-handed attitude within the Empire. Deeming his position absolutely secure, his tone to the Pope was peremptory and dictatorial. The French King encouraged Paul to be equally peremptory. In May 1548, Charles, repudiating the authority of the Council, or section of the Council, sitting at Bologna, took the law in his own hands and imposed the “Interim of Augsburg” on the Germans. It was one of those compromises which satisfies no one; schismatical in the eyes of the Catholics, in the eyes of the Protestants an insignificant concession. Many of the latter, including the moderate and conciliatory Bucer, withdrew to England rather than accept it. The Protector however was secured against any present danger of a coalition between Henry II. and Charles; while the incursion of foreign Protestants of extreme views, especially those of the Swiss school, had a marked influence on the ecclesiastical movement in England.
[Sidenote: Nov. Parliament]
At the end of November, Parliament again met–to reject a first, a second, and a third Enclosures Bill, based on the report of the Agricultural Commission; for the labouring classes were unrepresented in the House. Making the rough places smooth proved not so simple a process as the Protector had imagined. The petition of the clergy for the legalisation of their marriages, deferred from the last session, was given effect, and fasting was again enjoined on economic grounds. The real business of the session, however, was the discussion of the new Prayer-book and the first Act of Uniformity.
[Sidenote: 1549 A New Liturgy]
Hitherto, there had been no uniform Order of Service: a variety of “Uses” being sanctioned. The idea however was by no means new, and had in fact long been theoretically approved, though never pressed with sufficient fervour to pass the stage of theoretical approbation. Cranmer had expended an infinity of learning and labour on the work now to be issued, and to him we owe chiefly the solemn harmonies, the gracious tenderness, of its language. To him too in chief, but partly also to the composite character of the “Windsor Commission” under whose auspices [Footnote: _Cf._ Moore, 183.] it was prepared, is due that conscious ambiguity of