Unhappily, the haughty and hasty monarch occasionally succeeded in prevailing upon Cranmer to swerve from the strict line of wisdom and prudence to which his opinions inclined him, but although he yielded in action, the purity of his intentions and the honesty of his purpose were never doubted.
The new adviser's rapid advancement was the signal of Wolsey's fall.
While that powerful Minister was apparently enjoying the plenitude of his greatness, and triumphing in the magnificence of his position, destruction came upon him unawares. Great and brilliant had been his rise, equally great and fatal was his fall.
No sooner was his disgrace resolved upon than the Great Seal was taken from him, his vast possessions were confiscated, he was banished to his house at Asher, and informations were filed against him by the Attorney-General.
Such a tempest of misfortunes broke at once over the head of the unhappy man that his calamities seemed without end, and the ruin of his fortunes was speedily followed by the destruction of his health.
When great men fall, their pseudo friends of prosperous days fall away also. Such friendship but blossoms in the sunshine, it ever withers and dies when clouds obscure their sun.
In this time of cruel adversity, but very few of his many followers remained faithful to the once mighty Cardinal. Of these few the chief was his secretary, Thomas Cromwell, who proved his fidelity not only by his steady adherence to his master, but also by stoutly soliciting the Court in his favour.
As Cromwell's rank did not entitle him to admittance to the King's presence, he was compelled to have recourse to one of the Secretaries of State.
It was to Gardiner that he addressed himself, and it is to that Minister's credit that although, on account of Henry's hasty and tyrannical temper, the task involved considerable risk, the quondam secretary did not desert his old patron and master, but interceded for him with skill, if without much heartiness.
The unhappy Cardinal's letters at this time are most dismal. In one of them, to Thomas Cromwell, he says he has written it "with his rude hand and sorrowful heart," and he signs himself, "T. Carlis. Ebor misserrimus" (the most miserable Thomas, Cardinal of York).