History would be unjust, however, were it to maintain that passion alone urged him to action. The question of the succession to the throne had for a century filled the country with confusion and blood. This Henry could not forget. Would the struggles of the two Roses be renewed after his death, occasioning, perhaps, the destruction of an ancient monarchy? If Mary, a princess of delicate health, should die, Scotland, France, the party of the White Rose, the Duke of Suffolk, whose wife was Henry’s sister, might drag the kingdom into endless wars. And even if Mary’s days were prolonged, her title to the crown might be disputed, no female sovereign having as yet sat upon the throne. Another train of ideas also occupied the king’s mind. He inquired sincerely whether his marriage with the widow of his brother was lawful. Even before its consummation, he had felt doubts about it. But even his defenders, if there are any, must acknowledge that one circumstance contributed at this time to give unusual force to these scruples. Passion impelled the king to break a holy bond; he loved another woman.
Catholic writers imagine that this guilty motive was the only one. It is a mistake, for the two former indisputably occupied Henry’s mind. As for parliament and people, the king’s love for Anne Boleyn affected them very little. It was the reason of state which made them regard the divorce as just and necessary.[[24]]
A congress was at that time sitting at Bologna with great pomp.[[25]] On the 5th of November, Charles V. having arrived from Spain, had entered the city, attended by a magnificent suite, and followed by 20,000 soldiers. He was covered with gold, and shone with grace and majesty. The pope waited for him in front of the church of San Petronio, seated on a throne, and wearing the triple crown. The emperor, master of Italy, which his soldiers had reduced to the last desolation,[[26]] fell prostrate before the pontiff, but lately his prisoner. The union of these two monarchs, both enemies of Henry VIII., seemed destined to ruin the King of England and thwart his great affair.
Henry’s Embassy To Rome.
And yet, not long before, an ambassador from Charles V. had been received at Whitehall: it was Master Eustace Chappuis, who had already discharged a mission to Geneva.[[27]] He came to solicit aid against the Turks. Henry caught at the chance: he imagined the moment to be favorable, and that he ought to despatch an embassy to the head of the empire and the head of the Church. He sent for the Earl of Wiltshire, Anne Boleyn’s father; Edward Lee, afterwards Archbishop of York; Stokesley, afterwards Bishop of London, and some others. He told them that the emperor desired his alliance, and commissioned them to proceed to Italy, and explain to Charles V. the serious motives that induced him to separate from Catherine. “If he persists in his opposition to the divorce,” continued Henry, “threaten him, but in covert terms. If the threats prove useless, tell him plainly that, in accord with my friends, I will do all I can to restore peace to my troubled conscience.” He added with more calmness,—“I am resolved to fear God rather than man, and to place full reliance on comfort from the Saviour.”[[28]] Was Henry sincere when he spoke thus? No one can doubt of his sensuality, his scholastic catholicism, and his cruel violence:—must we also believe in his hypocrisy? He was no doubt under a delusion, and deceived himself on the state of his soul.
An important member was added to the deputation. One day when the king was occupied with this affair, Thomas Cranmer appeared at the door of his closet with a manuscript in his hand. Cranmer had a fine understanding, a warm heart, a character perhaps too weak, but extensive learning. Captivated by the Holy Scriptures, he desired to seek for truth nowhere else. He had suggested a new point of view to Henry VIII. “The essential thing,” he said, “is to know what the Word of God teaches on the matter in question.” “Show me that,” exclaimed the king. Cranmer brought him his treatise, in which he proved that the Word of God is above all human jurisdiction, and that it forbids marriage with a brother’s widow. Henry took the work in his hand, read it again and again, and praised its excellence. A bright idea occurred to him. “Are you strong enough to maintain before the Bishop of Rome the propositions laid down in this treatise?” said the king. Cranmer was timid, but convinced and devoted. “Yes,” he made answer, “with God’s grace, and if your Majesty commands it.” “Marry, then,” exclaimed Henry with delight, “I will send you.”[[29]] Cranmer departed with the others in January, 1530.
Clement’s Alarm.
While Henry’s ambassadors were journeying slowly, Charles V., more exasperated than ever against the divorce, endeavored to gain the pope. Clement VII., who was a clever man, and possessed a certain kindly humor, but was at heart cunning, false, and cowardly, amused the puissant emperor with words. When he learned that the King of England was sending an embassy to him, he gave way to the keenest sorrow. What was he to do? which way could he turn? To irritate the emperor was dangerous; to separate England from Rome would be to endure a great loss. Caught between Charles V. and Henry VIII., he groaned aloud; he paced up and down his chamber gesticulating; then suddenly stopping, sank into a chair and burst into tears. Nothing succeeded with him: it was, he thought, as if he had been bewitched. What need was there for the King of England to send him an embassy? Had not Clement told Henry through the Bishop of Tarbes: “I am content the marriage should take place, provided it be without my authorization.”[[30]] It was of no use: the pope asked him to do without the papacy, and the king would only act with it. He was more popish than the pope.
To add to his misfortunes, Charles began to press the pontiff more seriously, and yielding to his importunities, Clement drew up a brief on the 7th of March, in which he commanded Henry “to receive Catherine with love, and to treat her in all things with the affection of a husband.”[[31]] But the brief was scarcely written when the arrival of the English embassy was announced. The pope in alarm immediately put the document back into his portfolio, promising himself that it would be long before he published it.
As soon as the English envoys had taken up their quarters at Bologna, the ambassadors of France called to pay their respects. De Gramont, Bishop of Tarbes, was overflowing with politeness, especially to the Earl of Wiltshire. “I have shown much honor to M. de Rochford,” he wrote to his master on the 28th of March. “I went out to meet him. I have visited him often at his lodging. I have fêted him, and offered him my solicitations and services, telling him that such were your orders.”[[32]] Not thus did Clement VII. act: the arrival of the Earl of Wiltshire and his colleagues was a cause of alarm to him. Yet he must make up his mind to receive them: he appointed the day and the hour for the audience.