Henry VIII. continued the persecuting practices of his father with unabated rigour. In his earlier days he appeared determined to do honour to the Church beyond most of his predecessors. He raised up and created in Cardinal Wolsey such a colossus of ecclesiastical pomp and greatness as the world had rarely seen. In 1513 Wolsey was made Bishop of Tournay, in France; in 1514, Bishop of Lincoln and Archbishop of York; in 1515, the king's almoner, Cardinal, and Lord High Chancellor of the kingdom; in 1518 he became the Pope's legate à latere and Bishop of Bath and Wells; in 1521, he was made Abbot of St. Albans; in 1523, Bishop of Durham, in exchange for the bishopric of Bath and Wells; and in 1529, Bishop of Winchester, in exchange for that of Durham. Besides these dignities, he had pensions from the King of France, the Emperor of Germany, the Pope, and other princes. The whole power of the kingdom was in his hands; for Henry, so far from being jealous of his greatness, only felt himself the greater for having a servant who in pride and splendour rivalled the greatest monarchs. The state which Wolsey kept would lead us to infer that the Church had reached a higher pitch of power and grandeur than ever in this country. His palaces were more gorgeous, and filled with more evidences of enormous wealth, than those of kings. His retinue of servants and attendants, many of the latter being nobles or the sons of nobles, was inconceivable. It was only at Hampton Court that the whole train of his servants and the crowd of his visitors, including the nobility and ambassadors of foreign courts, could be suitably lodged and entertained. For a long course of years the whole government of England was in his hands. The king did nothing without him; and as prime minister and Lord Chancellor of England, Archbishop of York, and chief judge in the court of Star Chamber, there was no man or his estate that was not in his power. His revenues from a hundred sources were immense, and such was the magnificence of his position and influence, that he might well forget himself and utter the famous words of unparalleled egotism—"Ego et rex meus."
Who could have deemed that the Papal Church was near its end as the State religion of England, whilst the king thus honoured its dignitaries? The very greatness of Wolsey hastened the fall of the Church as well as of himself. The arrogance, the rapacity, and the frequent injustice of the proud minister made for him and his Church deadly enemies. "For," says Strype, "he disobliged not only the inferior sort by his pride and haughty behaviour, but by laying his hands upon the rights, privileges, and profits of the gentry and clergy, he made them his implacable enemies too. He took upon him to bestow benefices, though the real right of patronage lay in others. He called all offending persons before him, whether of the laity or clergy, and compelled them to compound as his officers thought fit."
But in spite of all his grandeur, Wolsey was but the creature of the most violent and capricious of men. A single word and he fell headlong, assuredly shaking in his fall the great hierarchy of which he had seemed the most gorgeous pillar and ornament; for the whole system was corrupt and rotten to the core. The wealth of the monastic orders had especially demoralised them. Both the regular and secular clergy were accused of not only spending their time in taverns and gambling-houses, but of abandoning in such resorts the very costume which distinguished them from the laity, of wearing daggers, gowns, and hoods of silk and embroidery, and of letting their hair grow long and fall on their shoulders. The interiors of the monastic houses were described as dens of licentiousness, both in monks and nuns. We have it, on the evidence of one of the letters of reproof addressed by Archbishop Morton to the Abbot of St. Albans, that that famous abbey was filled with every species of vice and sensuality. He further charges them with cutting down the woods, wasting and embezzling the property of the Church, stealing the plate, and even picking out the jewels from the shrine of the patron saint.
Whilst such was the corruption of the clergy, these infatuated men fell to quarrelling amongst themselves. The most remarkable circumstance, moreover, in this schism, is the very question which in these latter days has furnished such a fiery theme of discussion in both Romanist and Protestant Churches—the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin.
With the blind tenacity which often induces falling bodies to assert their prerogatives with arrogant obstinacy, the Church, in the fourth year of Henry VIII., commenced a daring opposition to the Government, in defence of the benefit of clergy. Henry VII., as we have stated, had limited this much abused privilege, by his Statute ordering such laymen as claimed it under charge of murder, to be burnt in the brawn of the thumb with the letter M. Henry VIII. had a Bill introduced into Parliament for the purpose of still further limiting this mischievous right, and denying benefit of clergy to all murderers and robbers whatever. This the clergy opposed in Parliament and preached against in the pulpit. The Lords and Commons were unanimously in favour of the Bill as well as the people, but the clergy determined not to yield. Whilst the public mind was in a ferment on this subject, a tailor of London, of the name of Hunne, was brought into conflict with the incumbent of his parish, on account of mortuary dues. Being sued in the spiritual court, with a boldness which marked the rising spirit of the times and which the clergy ought to have noted seriously, he took out a writ of Præmunire against his prosecutor, for appealing to a foreign jurisdiction, the spiritual court, still under the authority of the Pope. Enraged at this audacity they put the tailor into prison on a charge of heresy, and there he was discovered hanging dead. A coroner's inquest found the officers of the prison guilty of murder, and it appeared that the Bishop of London's chancellor, the sumner, and bell-ringer had perpetrated the crime. This threw the deepest odium on the clergy, and alienated the people from them; yet they did not cease to prosecute their claim of privilege, and after much contest, Wolsey prayed the king to refer the matter to the Pope. But even then Henry showed that he was tenacious of his power, and gave a striking foretaste of what he would one day do. He replied, "By permission and ordinance of God, we are King of England; and the king of England in times past hath never had any superior but God only. Therefore know you well that we will maintain the right of our crown, and of our temporal jurisdiction, as well in this as in all other points, in as ample a manner as any of our progenitors have done before our time."
JOHN KNOX. (From a Portrait of the Period.)
Whilst Edward VI. thoroughly established Protestantism, Mary as completely reinstated Popery, and with a series of horrors which for ever stamped terror and aversion of Roman Catholic ascendency deep on the spirit of the nation. The number of persons who died in the flames in that awful reign, for their faith and the freedom of conscience, is stated to have been 288; but Lord Burleigh estimated those who perished by fire, torture, famine, and imprisonment at not less than 400. Besides these, vast numbers suffered cruelly in a variety of ways. "Some of the professors," says Coverdale, "were thrown into dungeons, noisome holes, dark, loathsome and stinking corners; others lying in fetters and chains, and loaded with so many irons that they could scarcely stir. Some tied in the stocks with their heels upwards; some having their legs in the stocks, with their necks chained to the wall with gorgets of iron; some with hands and legs in the stocks at once; sometimes both hands in and both legs out; sometimes the right hand with the left leg, or the left hand with the right leg, fastened in the stocks with manacles and fetters, having neither stool nor stone to sit on to ease their woful bodies; some standing in Skevington's gyves [commonly called "Skevington's daughter">[—which were most painful engines of iron—with their bodies doubled; some whipped and scourged, beaten with rods, and buffeted with fists; and some having their hands burned with a candle to try their patience, and force them to relent; some hunger-pined, and some miserably famished and starved." The leading Reformers fled out of the kingdom, chiefly to Frankfort and to Switzerland; and 800 or more lived to become the heads of the restored Church under Elizabeth; amongst these were Poynet, Bishop of Winchester; Grindal, afterwards Bishop of London, and finally Primate of England; Sandys, afterwards Archbishop of York; Ball, Bishop of Ossory; Pilkington, afterwards Bishop of Durham; Bentham, afterwards Bishop of Lichfield; Scorey, Bishop of Chichester, and afterwards of Hereford; Young, afterwards Archbishop of York; Cox, afterwards of Ely; Jewel, afterwards of Salisbury; Coverdale, the translator of the Bible, Bishop of Exeter; Horn, Dean of Durham; Knox, the apostle of Scotland; and Foxe, the martyrologist. Besides these eminent men, there were Sir John Cheke, the famous Greek scholar, Sir Anthony Cooke, and Sir Francis Knollys, afterwards Elizabeth's vice-chamberlain.
On Elizabeth's accession to the throne she was by no means disposed to go so far as her brother Edward had gone, much less as far as the refugees—who now flocked back again from Geneva—would have carried her. They had imbibed the rigid independent notions of Calvin and Zwinglius, and that probably before their departure from England—a circumstance which there is little doubt directed their course to Switzerland, for the Reformers who resorted to Frankfort were much nearer to her standard—a standard very much the same as that of her father. She renounced all allegiance to the Pope and the Church of Rome, though she hesitated to declare herself the supreme head of the Church till it was conferred on her by Parliament. She issued orders to restrain the zeal of the Protestants, who began to pull down the images, and to restore the service to its state in King Edward's time. She gave directions that a part of the service should be read in English, and forbade the elevation of the Host; but at the same time she suspended all preaching.
Parliament, on meeting, passed an Act asserting the supremacy of the Crown over the Church, revived the Acts of Henry VIII. which abolished the power and jurisdiction of the Pope in England, and authorised the use of King Edward's Book of Common Prayer, with some alterations, chiefly in the Communion Service. Thus they cast off the Roman Catholics who would not conform, but did not go far enough for the more zealous Reformers. The oath of Supremacy was presented to the bishops, and it had the effect of clearing the Church of all but Kitchen of St. Asaph. The inferior clergy, however, were not so firm, and only six abbots, twelve deans, twelve archdeacons, fifteen heads of colleges, fifty prebendaries, and eighty rectors refused compliance. The monks returned to secular life, but the nuns mostly went abroad. The clergy were ordered to wear the habits in use in the latter part of King Edward's time; and their marriages, against which the queen showed a strong repugnance, were put under stringent regulations. The press also was laid under the most rigorous restrictions, and no book was to be printed or published without the licence of the queen, or of six of her privy council, or of her ecclesiastical commissioners, or the two archbishops, the Bishop of London, the chancellors of the universities, and the bishop and archdeacons of the place where it was produced. All persons were commanded to attend their parish churches under severe penalties. In 1562 the articles of religion of King Edward were reduced from forty-two to thirty-nine. In 1571 they underwent a further revision, and were made binding on the clergy before they could be admitted to orders.