Constitutional History of England, Henry VII to George II. Volume 1 of 3

by Henry Hallam

Exactions of Henry VII.—The two first of the Tudors rarely experienced opposition but when they endeavoured to levy money. Taxation, in the eyes of their subjects, was so far from being no tyranny, that it seemed the only species worth a complaint. Henry VII. obtained from his first parliament a grant of tonnage and poundage during life, according to several precedents of former reigns. But when general subsidies were granted, the same people, who would have seen an innocent man led to prison or the scaffold with little attention, twice broke out into dangerous rebellions; and as these, however arising from such immediate discontent, were yet a good deal connected with the opinion of Henry's usurpation and the claims of a pretender, it was a necessary policy to avoid too frequent imposition of burdens upon the poorer classes of the community.[12] He had recourse accordingly to the system of benevolences, or contributions apparently voluntary, though in fact extorted from his richer subjects. These having become an intolerable grievance under Edward IV., were abolished in the only parliament of Richard III. with strong expressions of indignation. But in the seventh year of Henry's reign, when, after having with timid and parsimonious hesitation suffered the marriage of Anne of Brittany with Charles VIII., he was compelled by the national spirit to make a demonstration of war, he ventured to try this unfair and unconstitutional method of obtaining aid, which received afterwards too much of a parliamentary sanction, by an act enforcing the payment of arrears of money, which private men had thus been prevailed upon to promise.[13] The statute indeed of Richard is so expressed as not clearly to forbid the solicitation of voluntary gifts, which of course rendered it almost nugatory.

Archbishop Morton is famous for the dilemma which he proposed to merchants and others, whom he solicited to contribute. He told those who lived handsomely, that their opulence was manifest by their rate of expenditure. Those, again, whose course of living was less sumptuous, must have grown rich by their economy. Either class could well afford assistance to their sovereign. This piece of logic, unanswerable in the mouth of a privy councillor, acquired the name of Morton's fork. Henry doubtless reaped great profit from these indefinite exactions, miscalled benevolences. But, insatiate of accumulating treasure, he discovered other methods of extortion, still more odious, and possibly more lucrative. Many statutes had been enacted in preceding reigns, sometimes rashly or from temporary motives, sometimes in opposition to prevailing usages which they could not restrain, of which the pecuniary penalties, though exceedingly severe, were so little enforced as to have lost their terror. These his ministers raked out from oblivion; and, prosecuting such as could afford to endure the law's severity, filled his treasury with the dishonourable produce of amercements and forfeitures. The feudal rights became, as indeed they always had been, instrumental to oppression. The lands of those who died without heirs fell back to the Crown by escheat. It was the duty of certain officers in every county to look after its rights. The king's title was to be found by the inquest of a jury, summoned at the instance of the escheator, and returned into the exchequer. It then became a matter of record, and could not be impeached. Hence the escheators taking hasty inquests, or sometimes falsely pretending them, defeated the right heir of his succession. Excessive fines were imposed on granting livery to the king's wards on their majority. Informations for intrusion, criminal indictments, outlawries on civil process, in short, the whole course of justice, furnished pretences for exacting money; while a host of dependents on the court, suborned to play their part as witnesses, or even as jurors, rendered it hardly possible for the most innocent to escape these penalties. Empson and Dudley are notorious as the prostitute instruments of Henry's avarice in the later and more unpopular years of his reign; but they dearly purchased a brief hour of favour by an ignominious death and perpetual infamy.[14] The avarice of Henry VII., as it rendered his government unpopular, which had always been penurious, must be deemed a drawback from the wisdom ascribed to him; though by his good fortune it answered the end of invigorating his power. By these fines and forfeitures he impoverished and intimidated the nobility. The Earl of Oxford compounded, by the payment of £15,000, for the penalties he had incurred by keeping retainers in livery; a practice mischievous and illegal, but too customary to have been punished before this reign. Even the king's clemency seems to have been influenced by the sordid motive of selling pardons; and it has been shown, that he made a profit of every office in his court, and received money for conferring bishoprics.[15]

It is asserted by early writers, though perhaps only on conjecture, that he left a sum thus amassed, of no less than £1,800,000 at his decease. This treasure was soon dissipated by his successor, who had recourse to the assistance of parliament in the very first year of his reign. The foreign policy of Henry VIII., far unlike that of his father, was ambitious and enterprising. No former king had involved himself so frequently in the labyrinth of continental alliances. And, if it were necessary to abandon that neutrality which is generally the most advantageous and laudable course, it is certain that his early undertakings against France were more consonant to English interests, as well as more honourable, than the opposite policy, which he pursued after the battle of Pavia. The campaigns of Henry in France and Scotland displayed the valour of our English infantry, seldom called into action for fifty years before, and contributed with other circumstances to throw a lustre over his reign, which prevented most of his contemporaries from duly appreciating its character. But they naturally drew the king into heavy expenses, and, together with his profusion and love of magnificence, rendered his government very burthensome. At his accession, however, the rapacity of his father's administration had excited such universal discontent, that it was found expedient to conciliate the nation. An act was passed in his first parliament to correct the abuses that had prevailed in finding the king's title to lands by escheat.[16] The same parliament repealed a law of the late reign, enabling justices of assize and of the peace to determine all offences, except treason and felony, against any statute in force, without a jury, upon information in the king's name.[17] This serious innovation had evidently been prompted by the spirit of rapacity, which probably some honest juries had shown courage enough to withstand. It was a much less laudable concession to the vindictive temper of an injured people, seldom unwilling to see bad methods employed in punishing bad men, that Empson and Dudley, who might perhaps by stretching the prerogative have incurred the penalties of a misdemeanor, were put to death on a frivolous charge of high treason.[18]

Taxes demanded by Henry VIII.—The demands made by Henry VIII. on parliament were considerable both in frequency and amount. Notwithstanding the servility of those times, they sometimes attempted to make a stand against these inroads upon the public purse. Wolsey came into the House of Commons in 1523, and asked for £800,000, to be raised by a tax of one-fifth upon lands and goods, in order to prosecute the war just commenced against France. Sir Thomas More, then speaker, is said to have urged the House to acquiesce.[19] But the sum demanded was so much beyond any precedent, that all the independent members opposed a vigorous resistance. A committee was appointed to remonstrate with the cardinal, and to set forth the impossibility of raising such a subsidy. It was alleged that it exceeded all the current coin of the kingdom. Wolsey, after giving an uncivil answer to the committee, came down again to the House, on pretence of reasoning with them, but probably with a hope of carrying his end by intimidation. They received him, at More's suggestion, with all the train of attendants that usually encircled the haughtiest subject who had ever been known in England. But they made no other answer to his harangue than that it was their usage to debate only among themselves. These debates lasted fifteen or sixteen days. A considerable part of the Commons appears to have consisted of the king's household officers, whose influence, with the utmost difficulty, obtained a grant much inferior to the cardinal's requisition, and payable by instalments in four years. But Wolsey, greatly dissatisfied with this imperfect obedience, compelled the people to pay up the whole subsidy at once.[20]

Illegal exactions of Wolsey in 1522 and 1525.—No parliament was assembled for nearly seven years after this time. Wolsey had already resorted to more arbitrary methods of raising money by loans and benevolences.[21] The year before this debate in the Commons, he borrowed twenty thousand pounds of the city of London; yet so insufficient did that appear for the king's exigencies, that within two months commissioners were appointed throughout the kingdom to swear every man to the value of his possessions, requiring a rateable part according to such declaration. The clergy, it is said, were expected to contribute a fourth; but I believe that benefices above ten pounds in yearly value were taxed at one-third. Such unparalleled violations of the clearest and most important privilege that belonged to Englishmen excited a general apprehension.[22] Fresh commissioners however were appointed in 1525, with instructions to demand the sixth part of every man's substance, payable in money, plate, or jewels, according to the last valuation.[23] This demand Wolsey made in person to the mayor and chief citizens of London. They attempted to remonstrate, but were warned to beware, lest "it might fortune to cost some their heads." Some were sent to prison for hasty words, to which the smart of injury incited them. The clergy, from whom, according to usage, a larger measure of contribution was demanded, stood upon their privilege to grant their money only in convocation, and denied the right of a king of England to ask any man's money without authority of parliament. The rich and poor agreed in cursing the cardinal as the subverter of their laws and liberties; and said "if men should give their goods by a commission, then it would be worse than the taxes of France, and England should be bond, and not free."[24] Nor did their discontent terminate in complaints. The commissioners met with forcible opposition in several counties, and a serious insurrection broke out in Suffolk. So menacing a spirit overawed the proud tempers of Henry and his minister, who found it necessary not only to pardon all those concerned in these tumults, but to recede altogether upon some frivolous pretexts from the illegal exaction, revoking the commissions and remitting all sums demanded under them. They now resorted to the more specious request of a voluntary benevolence. This also the citizens of London endeavoured to repel, by alleging the statute of Richard III. But it was answered that he was an usurper, whose acts did not oblige a lawful sovereign. It does not appear whether or not Wolsey was more successful in this new scheme; but, generally, rich individuals had no remedy but to compound with the government.

No very material attempt had been made since the reign of Edward III. to levy a general imposition without consent of parliament, and in the most remote and irregular times it would be difficult to find a precedent for so universal and enormous an exaction; since tallages, however arbitrary, were never paid by the barons or freeholders, nor by their tenants; and the aids to which they were liable were restricted to particular cases. If Wolsey therefore could have procured the acquiescence of the nation under this yoke, there would probably have been an end of parliaments for all ordinary purposes; though, like the States General of France, they might still be convoked to give weight and security to great innovations. We cannot indeed doubt that the unshackled condition of his friend, though rival, Francis I., afforded a mortifying contrast to Henry. Even under his tyrannical administration there was enough to distinguish the king of a people who submitted in murmuring to violations of their known rights, from one whose subjects had almost forgotten that they ever possessed any. But the courage and love of freedom natural to the English commons, speaking in the hoarse voice of tumult, though very ill supported by their superiors, preserved us in so great a peril.[25]

Acts of parliament releasing the king from his debts.—If we justly regard with detestation the memory of those ministers who have aimed at subverting the liberties of their country, we shall scarcely approve the partiality of some modern historians towards Cardinal Wolsey; a partiality, too, that contradicts the general opinion of his contemporaries. Haughty beyond comparison, negligent of the duties and decorums of his station, profuse as well as rapacious, obnoxious alike to his own order and to the laity, his fall had long been secretly desired by the nation and contrived by his adversaries. His generosity and magnificence seem rather to have dazzled succeeding ages than his own. But, in fact, his best apology is the disposition of his master. The latter years of Henry's reign were far more tyrannical than those during which he listened to the counsels of Wolsey; and though this was principally owing to the peculiar circumstances of the latter period, it is but equitable to allow some praise to a minister for the mischief which he may be presumed to have averted. Had a nobler spirit animated the parliament which met at the era of Wolsey's fall, it might have prompted his impeachment for gross violations of liberty. But these were not the offences that had forfeited his prince's favour, or that they dared bring to justice. They were not absent perhaps from the recollection of some of those who took a part in prosecuting the fallen minister. I can discover no better apology for Sir Thomas More's participation in impeaching Wolsey on articles so frivolous that they have served to redeem his fame with later times, than his knowledge of weightier offences against the common weal which could not be alleged, and especially the commissions of 1525.[26] But in truth this parliament showed little outward disposition to object any injustice of such a kind to the cardinal. They professed to take upon themselves to give a sanction to his proceedings, as if in mockery of their own and their country's liberties. They passed a statute, the most extraordinary perhaps of those strange times, wherein "they do, for themselves and all the whole body of the realm which they represent, freely, liberally, and absolutely, give and grant unto the king's highness, by authority of this present parliament, all and every sum and sums of money which to them and every of them, is, ought, or might be due, by reason of any money, or any other thing, to his grace at any time heretofore advanced or paid by way of trust or loan, either upon any letter or letters under the king's privy seal, general or particular, letter missive, promise bond, or obligation of repayment, or by any taxation or other assessing, by virtue of any commission or commissions, or by any other mean or means, whatever it be, heretofore, passed for that purpose."[27] This extreme servility and breach of trust naturally excited loud murmurs; for the debts thus released had been assigned over by many to their own creditors, and having all the security both of the king's honour and legal obligation, were reckoned as valid as any other property. It is said by Hall, that most of this House of Commons held offices under the Crown. This illaudable precedent was remembered in 1544, when a similar act passed, releasing to the king all monies borrowed by him since 1542, with the additional provision, that if he should have already discharged any of these debts, the party or his heirs should repay his majesty.[28]

A benevolence again exacted.—Henry had once more recourse, about 1545, to a general exaction, miscalled benevolence. The council's instructions to the commissioners employed in levying it leave no doubt as to its compulsory character. They were directed to incite all men to a loving contribution according to the rates of their substance, as they were assessed at the last subsidy, calling on no one whose lands were of less value than 40s. or whose chattels were less than £15. It is intimated that the least which his majesty could reasonably accept would be twenty pence in the pound, on the yearly value of land, and half that sum on movable goods. They are to summon but a few to attend at one time, and to commune with every one apart, "lest some one unreasonable man, amongst so many, forgetting his duty towards God, his sovereign lord, and his country, may go about by his malicious frowardness to silence all the rest, be they never so well disposed." They were to use "good words and amiable behaviour," to induce men to contribute, and to dismiss the obedient with thanks. But if any person should withstand their gentle solicitations, alleging either poverty or some other pretence which the commissioners should deem unfit to be allowed, then after failure of persuasions and reproaches for ingratitude, they were to command his attendance before the privy council, at such time as they should appoint, to whom they were to certify his behaviour, enjoining him silence in the meantime, that his evil example might not corrupt the better disposed.[29]

It is only through the accidental publication of some family papers, that we have become acquainted with this document, so curiously illustrative of the government of Henry VIII. From the same authority may be exhibited a particular specimen of the consequences that awaited the refusal of this benevolence. One Richard Reed, an alderman of London, had stood alone, as is said, among his fellow-citizens, in refusing to contribute. It was deemed expedient not to overlook this disobedience; and the course adopted in pursuing it is somewhat remarkable. The English army was then in the field on the Scots border. Reed was sent down to serve as a soldier at his own charge; and the general, Sir Ralph Ewer, received intimations to employ him on the hardest and most perilous duty, and subject him, when in garrison, to the greatest privations, that he might feel the smart of his folly and sturdy disobedience. "Finally," the letter concludes, "you must use him in all things according to the sharpe disciplyne militar of the northern wars."[30] It is natural to presume that few would expose themselves to the treatment of this unfortunate citizen; and that the commissioners, whom we find appointed two years afterwards in every county, to obtain from the king's subjects as much as they would willingly give, if they did not always find perfect readiness, had not to complain of many peremptory denials.[31]

Severe and unjust executions for treason.—Such was the security that remained against arbitrary taxation under the two Henries. Were men's lives better protected from unjust measures, and less at the mercy of a jealous court? It cannot be necessary to expatiate very much on this subject in a work that supposes the reader's acquaintance with the common facts of our history; yet it would leave the picture too imperfect, were I not to recapitulate the more striking instances of sanguinary injustice that have cast so deep a shade over the memory of these princes.