Cardinal Wolsey

by M. Creighton

On 23d July it was expected that the court would give its decision. The king was present in a gallery, and after the reading of the pleas his counsel demanded judgment. Campeggio rose and declared that as the vacation of the Roman courts began at the end of July and lasted till October, he must follow that custom, and adjourn the sittings of the court for two months. On this the Duke of Suffolk slapped the table and exclaimed, "It was never merry in England whilst we had cardinals among us." Wolsey was not the man to brook an insult, especially from one whom he had greatly benefited. "Sir," he said, "of all men within this realm ye have least cause to dispraise or be offended at cardinals: for if I, a simple cardinal, had not been, you should have had at this present no head upon your shoulders, wherein you should have a tongue to make any such report of us, who intend you no manner of displeasure."

But though Wolsey could still wear a bold face when attacked, he knew that the future was hopeless. His enemies were daily gaining ground. His place, as the king's trusted counsellor, was taken by Stephen Gardiner, whom he had trained, and who was now the king's secretary and Anne Boleyn's chief agent. The old nobles, headed by the Duke of Norfolk, had made common cause with the relations of Anne Boleyn, and saw their opportunity of avenging themselves for all the slights which Wolsey had put upon them. Henry was unwilling to abandon all hopes of his divorce through the legatine court, and spared Wolsey for a time; but Wolsey knew that the ground was slipping from under him. The Pope resolved to revoke the cause to Rome, and recall the powers granted to the legates; it required all Wolsey's efforts to prevent the issue of a citation to Henry to appear before the Roman court.

Moreover, Wolsey had the additional pang of seeing all the fruits of his diplomatic activity abandoned before the absorbing interest of this miserable matter of the king's domestic life. If there was one object which was dear to Wolsey's heart, it was to secure England's power in Europe by a close alliance with France. For this purpose he had made great sacrifices, and he thought that he had some claim on Francis I.'s gratitude. Yet Francis was negotiating for peace with Charles V., and a conference was being held at Cambrai between his mother Louise and Charles's aunt Margaret. Wolsey sorely longed to be present at that conference and protect the interests of England; but Henry VIII. had no interest in such matters, and only regarded Wolsey's wish as a sign that he was lukewarm in his efforts for the divorce. Moreover, Francis I. defamed him to the English envoy, the Duke of Suffolk, and did his best to foster the king's suspicion of Wolsey's zeal in "the great matter." He knew that to deprive Henry of his acute adviser was the readiest means of hiding his own proceedings. The conference at Cambrai was an abandonment of the methods of diplomacy and a return to the old usages of the days of chivalry. Two women took counsel together about family affairs, and their object was to remove domestic difficulties. Really Francis I. was weary of a profitless warfare, and agreed to abandon Italy to Charles V. Henry VIII. was appeased by a transference of the debt of Charles V. to the shoulders of Francis I., and this promise of more money seems to have satisfied the English king. Early in August the peace was signed, and Henry was included in its provisions. If a testimony were needed that entirely English diplomacy depended upon Wolsey, it would be found in Henry's short-sightedness at this time. He did not try to influence the proceedings at Cambrai, but allowed himself to be hoodwinked by Francis I., even in the point about which he was most interested. The peace of Cambrai left Charles V. supreme in Italy, and restored in name the authority of the Pope, which the two sovereigns declared themselves resolved to maintain. Its practical result was to make the Pope more anxious to please Charles, who was now most closely connected with his political interests, and to free him from the dread of an alliance between Henry and Francis, which might have brought pressure to bear upon his action in the divorce. Clement had now no special motive for trying to conciliate the English king, and it was clear to all Europe that Wolsey no longer guided England's policy.

It was not only that Wolsey had failed in the matter of the divorce, but his failure had brought to light the true nature of the policy which he was pursuing, and had shown that it was not adapted to the turn which affairs were taking under the influence of the king's personal desires. Wolsey had planned a conservative reform, to be carried out gradually. England, respected on the Continent, and holding the balance between France and the Empire, was gradually to assert its power and independence by setting up a strong monarchy which should overawe the Papacy, and without any formal breach with past traditions, should remodel its ecclesiastical institutions, and put its relations to the Papacy on a new footing. Henry VIII. had so far entered into the spirit of this plan as to regard the existing state of things as of little moment, and his wishes led him to try and anticipate the future. This was the most disastrous thing that could have befallen Wolsey: it is the danger which besets all attempts at conservative reform. It is hard to train men in the ideas of future change, and expect them to submit patiently to present fetters. Henry brusquely demanded too much from the Pope, and the Pope in his alarm offered too little. Wolsey tried to mediate, but he was too closely allied with Henry for the Pope to trust him, and when his object was clearly seen in a small matter he was deprived of the means by which he hoped to win. His method was framed for large operations on a large field; it was not suited for the petty task which was suddenly imposed upon him. Yet if it failed there it was sure to be condemned altogether, and the future would belong to the more revolutionary forces which he had been trying to hold in check.

So in proportion as Wolsey failed about the divorce, the threads of his different but converging schemes fell from his hands. What was the profit to Henry of Wolsey's intricate foreign policy if it did not allow him to get a divorce when he pleased? Why should he deal tenderly with the papal authority when it threw such obstacles in his way? Why should he spare the Church when its bishops protested against him? Why should he permit the slow transformation of the monasteries when with a little trouble their spoil would fall into his hands? Why should he trust to Wolsey, who had already failed him in his need, when he had men like Gardiner, with clear heads about matters of details, to serve him at his need? Above all, why should Wolsey's fine-drawn plans stand between him and his people's affections, and lead him to do what Englishmen neither understood nor approved? These were the questions with which Henry was plied. Wolsey had been only too successful and too consistent. If his policy was abandoned in aught, it must be abandoned in all. When Henry let fall Wolsey's foreign policy, and made no effort to influence the peace of Cambrai, there was no further need of Wolsey in England's councils, and his rule was practically at an end.

Still Wolsey was permitted to retain his offices. Campeggio had not yet departed; something might still be done. The king had for some time avoided seeing Wolsey, and was engaged in wandering from place to place in the company of Anne Boleyn. At last, in the middle of September, Campeggio prepared to return to Rome, and accompanied by Wolsey went to take leave of the king, who was then at Grafton in Northamptonshire. There they arrived on 19th September, and Campeggio was shown to his room, but Wolsey was informed that there was no room provided for him. He was relieved from his astonishment by a groom of the stole, who said, "I assure you, sir, here is very little room in this house, scantly sufficient for the king. However, I beseech your grace to accept mine for a season." When Wolsey and Campeggio were ushered into the king's presence they found the lords of the Council eagerly watching the king's behaviour. If they expected any signs of the royal displeasure they were disappointed, as Henry received Wolsey most graciously, and drew him aside into a window, where he talked with him privately.

The king dined privately with Anne Boleyn, and Wolsey dined with the lords of the Council. In course of conversation he hinted at his own intentions for the future by saying, "It were well done if the king would send his chaplains and bishops to their cures and benefices." The Duke of Norfolk eagerly assented, and Wolsey went on to say that he would gladly go to his bishopric of Winchester. Then Norfolk showed his fears by saying, "Nay, to your see of York, whence comes both your greatest honour and charge." Already Wolsey's foes were scheming to remove him as far as possible from the royal presence.

Every one was eagerly watching and listening for the smallest indications of the royal pleasure; and Cavendish was told that Anne Boleyn at dinner with the king showed her dissatisfaction at Wolsey's kindly reception. She denounced the cardinal in no measured terms, but without any immediate result, as after dinner the king called Wolsey into his private room and talked with him for some time; "the which blanked his enemies very sore, and made them to stir the coals, being in doubt what this matter would grow into, having now none other refuge to trust to but Mistress Anne, in whom was all their whole and firm trust and affiance." Wolsey rode off to "Master Empson's house, called Euston, three miles from Grafton," where he spent the night, and received a visit from Gardiner, who was thought to come as a spy; but Wolsey talked to him about indifferent subjects, and showed that his sense of personal dignity was still strong.

Next morning he rode early to the Court, and saw the king for a short time; but Anne Boleyn had prepared a picnic at Hatwell Park, and carried off Henry with her, that Wolsey might not have much opportunity for private talk. The king bade a hurried farewell to Wolsey and Campeggio, and then rode away with Anne, while the legates returned to London. Campeggio did not reach Dover till 8th October, and before he was allowed to embark his luggage was ransacked by the king's officials.

This extraordinary violation of the privileges of an ambassador was characteristic of the unscrupulous meanness to which Henry was now ready to descend. He hoped to find amongst Campeggio's papers the Pope's decretal about the law of the divorce. If he had found it Wolsey might still have been useful. He might have been compelled to continue the proceedings of the legatine court, and give judgment in Henry's favour, sheltering himself under the terms of the commission, and applying the interpretation of the decretal. In this way the first measures wrung out of the Pope when he wished to be conciliating might have been used in a high-handed fashion against the conclusions of his settled policy. But Campeggio had already been instructed by the Pope to burn the decretal. Nothing was found as the result of the search, which only revealed the cardinal's poverty. He had come to England ill provided, and had gained nothing from the royal bounty.