At the same time new and loud complaints of the Romish exactions were heard in parliament. ‘For centuries the Roman bishops have been deceiving us,’ said the eloquent speakers, ‘making us believe that they have the power of dispensing with everything, even with God’s commandments. We send to Rome the treasures of England, and Rome sends us back in return ... a piece of paper. The monster which has fattened on the substance of our people bears a hundred different names. They call it reliefs, dues, pensions, provisions, procurations, delegation, rescript, appeal, abolition, rehabilitation, relaxation of canonical penalties, licenses, Peter’s pence, and many other names besides. And after having thus caught our money by all sorts of tricks, the Romans laugh at us in their sleeves.’ Parliament forbade everybody, even the king himself,[[376]] to apply to Rome for any dispensation or delegation whatsoever, and ordered them, in case of need, to have recourse to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Then, immediately putting these principles into practice, they declared the king’s marriage with Catherine to be null, for ‘no man has power to dispense with God’s laws,’[[377]] and ratified the marriage between Henry and Anne, proclaiming their children heirs to the crown. At the same time, wishing England to become entirely English, they deprived two Italians, Campeggi and Ghinucci, of the sees of Salisbury and Worcester, which they held.
It was during the month of March, 1534—an important date for England—that the main branches of the tree of popery were thus lopped off one after another. The trunk indeed remained, although stripped; but yet a few months, and that too was to strew the earth with its fall. Still the Commons showed a certain degree of consideration. When Clement had threatened the king with excommunication, he had given him three months’ grace; England, desiring to return his politeness, informed the pope that he might receive some compensation. At the same time she made an important declaration: ‘We do not separate from the Christian Church,’ said the Commons, ‘but merely from the usurped authority of the Pope of Rome; and we preserve the catholic faith, as it is set forth in the Holy Scriptures.’ All these reforms were effected with great unanimity, at least in appearance. The bishops, even the most scholastic, such as Stokesley of London, Tonstal of Durham, Gardiner of Winchester, and Rowland Lee of Coventry, declared the Roman papacy to be of human invention, and that the pope was, in regard to them, only a bishop, a brother, as his predecessors had been to the bishops of antiquity.[[378]] Every Sunday during the cessation of parliament a prelate preached at St. Paul’s Cross ‘that the pope was not the head of the Church,’ and all the people said Amen.
Meanwhile Du Bellay, the French ambassador at Rome, was waiting for the act by which the King of England was to bind himself once more to the pope—an act which Francis I. still gave him reason to expect. Every morning he fancied it would arrive, and every evening his expectations were disappointed. He called upon the English envoys, and afterwards at the Roman chancery, to hear if there was any news; but everywhere the answer was the same—nothing.
Henry’s Condemnation.
The term fixed by Clement VII. having elapsed, he summoned the consistory for Monday the 23d of March. Du Bellay attended it, still hoping to prevent anything being done that might separate England from the papacy. The cardinals represented to him, that as the submission of Henry VIII. had not arrived, nothing remained but for the pope to fulminate the sentence. ‘Do you not know,’ exclaimed Du Bellay, in alarm, ‘that the courier charged with that prince’s despatches has seas to cross, and the winds may be contrary? The King of England waited your decision for six years, and cannot you wait six days?’[[379]] ‘Delay is quite useless,’ said a cardinal of the imperial faction; ‘we know what is taking place in England. Instead of thinking of reparation, the king is widening the schism every day. He goes so far as to permit the representation of dramas at his court, in which the holy conclave, and some of your most illustrious selves in particular, are held up to ridicule.’ The last blow, although a heavy one, was unnecessary. The priests could no longer contain their vexation; the rebellious prince must be punished. Nineteen out of twenty-two cardinals voted against Henry VIII.; the remaining three only asked for further enquiry. Clement could not conceal his surprise and annoyance. To no purpose did he demand another meeting, in conformity with the custom which requires two, and even three consultations:[[380]] overwhelmed by an imposing and unexpected majority, he gave way.
The Pope’s Disquietude.
Simonetta then handed him the sentence, which the unhappy pope took and read with the voice of a criminal rather than of a judge. ‘Having invoked the name of Christ, and sitting on the throne of justice,[[381]] we decree that the marriage between Catherine of Aragon and Henry, King of England was and is valid and canonical; that the said King Henry is bound to cohabit with the said queen; to pay her royal honors; and that he must be constrained to discharge these duties.’ After pronouncing these words the poor pontiff, alarmed at the bold act he had just performed, turned to the envoys of Charles V. and said to them: ‘I have done my duty; it is now for the emperor to do his, and to carry the sentence into execution.’ ‘The emperor will not hold back,’ answered the ambassadors; but the thing was not so easily done as said.
Thus the great affair was ended; the King of England was condemned. It was dark when the pope quitted the consistory; the news so long expected spread immediately through the city; the emperor’s partisans, transported with joy, lit bonfires in all the open places, and cannons fired repeated salvoes. Bands of Ghibelines paraded the streets, shouting, Imperio e Espagna (the Empire and Spain). The whole city was in commotion. The pope’s disquietude was still further increased by these demonstrations. ‘He is tormented,’ wrote Du Bellay to his master. Clement spent the whole night in conversation with his theologians. ‘What must be done? England is lost to us. Oh! how can I avert the king’s anger?’ Clement VII. never recovered from this blow; the thought that under his pontificate Rome lost England made him shudder. The slightest mention of it renewed his anguish, and sorrow soon brought him to the tomb.
Yet he did not know all. The evil with which Rome was threatened was greater than he had imagined. If in this matter there had been nothing more than the decision of a prince discontented with the court of Rome, a contrary decision of one of his successors might again place England under the dominion of the pontiffs; and these would be sure to spare no pains to recover the good graces of the English kings. But in despite of Henry VIII., a pure doctrine, similar to that of the apostolic times, was spreading over the different parts of the nation; a doctrine which was not only to wrest England from the pope, but to establish in that island a true Christianity—a vast evangelical propaganda which should plant the standard of God’s word even at the ends of the world. The empire of Christendom was thus to be taken from a church led astray by pride, and which bade mankind unite with it that they might be saved; and to be given to those who taught that, according to the divine declarations, none could be saved except by uniting with Jesus Christ.