He did not stop here. Desiring above all things to withdraw France from under the influence of Rome, he instructed his ambassadors to tell Francis I. in his name and in the name of the people: ‘We shall shortly be able to give unto the pope such a buffet as he never had before.’[[368]] This was quite in Henry’s style. ‘Things are going at such a rate here,’ wrote the Duke of Norfolk to Montmorency, ‘that the pope will soon lose the obedience of England; and other nations, perceiving the great fruits, advantage, and profit that will result from it, will also separate from Rome.’[[369]]
All this was serious: there was some chance that Norfolk’s prophecy would be fulfilled. The poor pontiff could think of nothing else, and began to believe that the idea of a council was not so unreasonable after all, since the place and time of meeting and mode of proceeding would lead to endless discussions; and if the meeting ever took place, he would thus be relieved of a responsibility which became more oppressive to him every day. He therefore bade Henry VIII. be informed that he agreed to call a general council. But events had not stood still; the position was not the same. ‘It is no longer necessary,’ the king answered coldly. In his opinion, the Church of England was sufficient of herself, and could do without the Church of Rome.
The King of France, growing alarmed, immediately resumed his part of mediator. Du Bellay, his ambassador at Rome, made indefatigable efforts to inspire the consistory with an opinion favorable to Henry VIII. According to that diplomatist, the King of England was ready to re-establish friendly relations with Clement VII., and it was parliament alone that desired to break with the papacy forever: it was the people who wished for reform, it was the king who opposed it. ‘Make your choice,’ he exclaimed with eloquence.[[370]] ‘All that the king desires is peace with Rome; all that the commonalty demands is war. With whom will you go—with your enemies or with your friend?’ Du Bellay’s assertions, though strange, were based upon a truth that cannot be denied. It was the best of the people who wanted protestantism in England, and not the king.
Alarm Of The Court Of Rome.
The court of Rome felt that the last hour had come, and determined to despatch to London the papers necessary to reconcile Henry. It was believed on the Continent that the King of England was going to gain his cause at last, and people ascribed it to the ascendency of French policy at Rome since the marriage of Catherine de Medicis with Henry of Orleans. But the more the French triumphed, the more indignant became the Imperialists. To no purpose did the pope say to them: ‘You do not understand the state of affairs: the thing is done.... The King of England is married to Anne Boleyn. If I annulled the marriage, who would undertake to execute my sentence?’—‘Who?’ exclaimed the ambassadors of Charles V., ‘who?... The emperor.’[[371]] The weak pontiff knew not which way to turn: he had but one hope left—if Henry VIII., as he expected, should re-establish catholicism in his kingdom, a fact so important would silence Charles V.
This fact was not to be feared: a movement had begun in the minds of the people of Great Britain which it was no longer possible to stop. While many pious souls received the Word of God in their hearts, the king and the most enlightened part of the nation were agreed to put an end to the intolerable usurpations of the Roman pontiff. ‘We have looked in the Holy Scriptures for the rights of the papacy,’ said the members of the Commons house of parliament, ‘but, instead of finding therein the institution of popes, we have found that of kings—and, according to God’s commandments, the priests ought to be subject to them as much as the laity.’—‘We have reflected upon the wants of the realm,’ said the royal council, ‘and have come to the conclusion, that the nation ought to form one body; that one body can have but one head, and that head must be the king.’ The parliament which met in January, 1534, was to give the death-blow to the supremacy of the pope.
This blow came strictly neither from Henry nor from Cranmer, but from Thomas Cromwell.[[372]] Without possessing Cranmer’s lively faith, Cromwell desired that the preachers should open the Word of God and preach it ‘with pure sincereness’ before the people,[[373]] and he afterwards procured from every Englishman the right to read it. Being pre-eminently a statesman of sure judgment and energetic action, he was in advance of his generation; and it was his fate, like those generals who march boldly at the head of the army, to procure victory to the cause for which he fought; but, persecuted by the traitors concealed among his soldiers, to be sacrificed by the prince he had served, and to meet a tragical death before the hour of his triumph.
The Commons, wishing to put an end to the persecutions practised by the clergy against the evangelical Christians, summoned—it was a thing unprecedented[[374]]—the Lord-bishop of London to appear at their bar to answer the complaint made against him by Thomas Philips, one of the disciples of the Reformation. The latter had been lying in prison three years under a charge of heresy. The parliament, unwilling that a bishop should be able at his own fancy to transform one of his Majesty’s subjects into a heretic, brought in a bill for the repression of doctrines condemned by the Church. They declared that, the authority of the Bishop of Rome being opposed to Holy Scripture and the laws of the realm, the words and acts that were contrary to the decisions of the pontiff could not be regarded as heresies. Then turning to the particular case which had given rise to the grievance, parliament declared Philips innocent and discharged him from prison.
After having thus upheld the cause of religious liberty, the Commons proceeded to the definitive abolition of the privileges which the bishops of Rome had successively usurped to the great detriment of both Church and people. They restored to England the rights of which Rome had despoiled her. They prohibited all appeals to the pope, of what kind soever they might be,[[375]] and substituted for them an appeal to the king in chancery. They voted that the election of bishops did not concern the court of Rome, but belonged to the chief ecclesiastical body in the diocese, to the chapter ... at least in appearance; for it really appertained to the crown, the king designating the person whom the chapter was to elect. This strange constitution was abolished under Edward VI., when the nomination of the bishops was conferred purely and simply on the king. If this was not better, it was at least more sincere; but the singular congé d’élire was restored under Elizabeth.
Complaint Of Romish Exactions.