CHAPTER VI

IN THE KING’S SERVICE

The decade which followed Cromwell’s appointment as counsellor to Henry VIII. witnessed some of the most striking changes that have ever taken place in England. The question which must obviously occur to every student of the period, is whether the King himself, or his new minister, was the real cause of the secular and religious revolution of the years 1530 to 1540. The difficulty of the problem is increased by the fact that Henry and Cromwell made every effort to conceal their traces; scarcely any information can be gleaned from their correspondence. We are therefore forced to draw our conclusions for the most part from external evidence and the reports of contemporary writers.

It may be justly said that in general the probabilities point to Cromwell as the true originator of the startling changes which occurred soon after his accession to power. The fact that the ultimate object of all these changes was the concentration of power in the hands of the Crown is not in itself of great value in determining the identity of their originator; for the strengthening of the monarchy was an end which both King and minister always kept in view: in the methods by which this object was attained, however, we have a most valuable clue to aid us in the solution of our problem. These methods were all intensely Cromwellian: their directness and efficiency are essentially and distinctively characteristic of the King’s new minister. In the contrast between the dawdling ineffectiveness of Wolsey’s device for solving the problem of the King’s divorce, and the summary, revolutionary process by which it was finally secured after the Cardinal’s fall, lies our strongest ground for supposing that it was at Cromwell’s instance that the decisive step was taken. It seems almost impossible that Henry, after having suffered himself to be guided so long by Wolsey, in the management of his ‘grete matier’ should have adopted at the Cardinal’s death a plan to secure his wishes, so thoroughly repugnant to the principles of his old adviser, unless the idea had been put into his head by another. When the King had once determined to break with Rome, it followed as a matter of course that the advice of the minister who had suggested the first step, should be adopted in devising measures to secure the King in the new position which he had assumed. The means employed to attain this end—the intimidation of the clergy and the suppression of the monasteries, the attacks on the independence of Parliament, the ruthless execution of those who opposed the late innovations—all bear the stamp of the sinister genius of Cromwell as unmistakably as the great revolution that rendered them necessary. Documentary evidence too comes in to help us here; scarcely an important Act was passed in Parliament between the years 1533 and 1540, of which there is not some previous mention in Cromwell’s papers and memoranda. Against these reasons it may be urged that none of the foreign ambassadors at the English Court mentions Cromwell as an important factor in the government until three years after he entered the King’s service, and that the country in general certainly regarded the events of the years 1530 to 1533 as the work of Henry alone; and that these facts are strong testimony that the King’s new minister did not attain any high degree of prominence until the crucial period of the struggle with Rome had passed. But this paucity of contemporary information concerning Cromwell’s earlier years in the King’s service may be better explained in another way. If Henry’s new minister was the true author of all the revolutionary measures of this period, it was certainly most unlikely that he should be paraded before the eyes of the people as such; it was, on the contrary, to his own interest, and also to the King’s, that he should be kept in the background. By permitting the people to think that Henry was the real originator of all the new schemes for establishing the Royal Supremacy in Church and State, the suddenness of the transition between Wolsey’s ministry and that of his successor was disguised. Moreover, had the people known that Cromwell was at the bottom of these changes, which were universally unpopular, nothing would have saved him from their revenge. As long as the new measures were attributed to the King, respect for the royal name was enough to prevent a revolt. Cromwell, on the contrary, who was not even of noble birth, could not have struck a blow in his own defence, had the people fastened upon him as the cause of the hated innovations. It was necessary to keep him concealed until his position was so secure that the popular odium could not shake him from it. When, in 1533, the mask was finally thrown off, Chapuys and the other foreign ambassadors realized all at once that Cromwell’s sudden burst into prominence would have been quite impossible, had not the ground been thoroughly prepared for it by important services rendered during the first years of his ministry.

Such, then, are the general reasons for thinking that Cromwell was the man who planned out and carried through the various measures which have rendered famous the period of his ministry. In examining separately the different events which took place, we shall meet with other evidence which points to the same conclusion. Most important is the account contained in Pole’s Apologia ad Carolum Quintum, which describes at length Cromwell’s first measure, his plan to secure Henry’s divorce from Katherine of Aragon; a scheme by which he won the confidence of the King and irrevocably committed himself and his master to the policy which he followed to the end of his days. Henry, it seems from Pole’s story, had become utterly discouraged at the time of Wolsey’s death concerning the prospect of ever obtaining a separation from his first wife. He had vainly attempted to get an encouraging reply from the English clergy, and his failure in this added to his despondency; his council, which lacked all initiative, could only rejoice that he intended to abandon his efforts. At this juncture the Satanae Nuncius, as Pole names Cromwell, solicited and obtained an audience with the King, and proposed a plan by which Henry could free himself from Papal restrictions, marry Anne, divorce Katherine, and yet ostensibly remain true to the Catholic Faith.

Cromwell introduced himself with his usual tact and skill. In a few modest and carefully selected sentences he excused himself for daring to offer an opinion on a subject of which he felt himself to be so very ignorant—but, he continued, his loyalty to the King would not permit him to be silent when there was the smallest chance of his being able to serve his sovereign at this momentous crisis. He was certain, he said, that the King’s troubles were solely due to the weakness of his advisers, who listened to the opinions of the common herd, and did not dare to act upon their own responsibility. All the wise and learned were in favour of the divorce; the only thing lacking was the Papal sanction; was the King to hesitate because this could not be obtained? It would be better to follow the example of the Lutherans, who had renounced the authority of Rome. Let the King, with the consent of Parliament, declare himself Head of the Church in England, and all his difficulties would vanish. England was at present a monster with two heads. If the King should take to himself the supreme power, religious as well as secular, every incongruity would cease; the clergy would immediately realize that they were responsible to the King and not to the Pope, and would forthwith become subservient to the royal will. Henry may have been surprised by the audacity of Cromwell’s scheme, but he was also much pleased, as it promised to satisfy all his dearest wishes. The Satanae Nuncius received his hearty thanks, and was further rewarded by a seat in the Privy Council[189].

Cromwell must have realized from the first, that the adoption of his scheme to throw off the Papal authority in England would encounter the greatest opposition from the clergy, but he had already devised a plan by which every objection could be silenced and the refractory ecclesiastics overawed. His whole policy in this crisis was based on the knowledge that the position of the clergy since Wolsey’s fall was completely altered. They were no longer in any sense popular. The State Papers of the period contain many lists of the grievances of the Commons against them[190]. They had received a severe lesson from the Parliament of 1529; they were now isolated, timid and demoralized. Cromwell was the first to perceive and make use of their changed condition. At the same time he realized how completely the House of Austria had possessed itself of the Papacy; the failure of Wiltshire’s embassy to the Emperor in Bologna, in 1530[191], assured him, if he needed any assurance, that the day of compromise with the Pope was passed, and that no divorce would ever come from the Vatican; he saw that if a separation of Henry and Katherine was to be secured at all, the battle-ground on which it was to be won was not the Papal Curia at Rome, but the Houses of Convocation and Parliament.

So it was conveniently discovered that Wolsey’s guilt was shared by Convocation, the Privy Council and the Lords and Commons, and indirectly by the nation itself; as all these had recognized the Cardinal in his capacity of legate, and so had become, by language of the statute, his ‘fautors and abettors.’ Again conveniently, but also most unreasonably, while the laity, who had eagerly availed themselves of the Cardinal’s jurisdiction, were tacitly passed over, the clergy who had been the only ones to make a stand in opposition to the legatine authority, were included in the Praemunire. So in December, 1530, as Holinshed quaintly puts it, ‘the kings learned councell said plainlie’ that the ‘whole cleargie of England . . . were all in the premunire[192],’ and the Attorney-General was instructed to file a brief against the entire body in the Court of King’s Bench. The clergy then assembled in Convocation, ‘and offered the King 100,000 pounds to be their good lord, and also to give them a pardon of all offences touching the Praemunire, by act of Parliament.’ To their surprise and dismay, however, Henry refused the bribe, unless, in the preamble to the grant, a clause were introduced making him ‘to be the Protector and only Supreme Head of the Church and clergy of England[193].’ The whole plot on the part of the King and the Privy Council was conducted with the greatest possible secrecy, and their real motives were probably not guessed at by the world outside. Even the astute Chapuys was completely deceived respecting the King’s actual intention. In his letters of the 23rd and 31st of January, 1531, he informs the Emperor that ‘when the King has bled the clergy, he will restore to them their liberties, and take them back into his favour,’ and later declares that ‘the whole thing was done to bring about a union between the clergy and the nobles[194].’ It was not until the 14th of February, when the entire affair had been carried through, that the Spanish ambassador really understood what was happening, and discovered that it was all something more than a striking exhibition of Tudor avarice[195].

In the meantime a number of Latin manifestoes appeared favouring the King’s divorce, and inveighing against the Papal Supremacy[196]. But in spite of all these intimidations, the clergy though weak did not intend to surrender without a struggle. We are told that ‘ille de suprematu regis conceptus haud bene placuit praelatis et clero, inde eum modificari voluerunt. Per tres itaque sessiones cum consiliariis regiis (among whom Cromwell doubtless was most prominent) ratio inita fuit quomodo regis animum flectere possent ad mollioribus verbis exprimendum articulum illum[197].’ At first Henry announced to the clergy through Rochford that the only alteration he would accept would be the insertion of the words ‘post Deum.’ In the end, however, he yielded in this point, and consented to an amendment moved by Archbishop Warham, so that in its final form the clause read ‘Ecclesiae et cleri Anglicani, cujus singularem protectorem, unicum et supremum dominicum, et quantum per Christi legem licet etiam supremum caput ipsius majestatem recognoscimus.’ Both the Canterbury and York Convocations hastened to accept this compromise, and the latter voted an additional grant of £18,000. The only bishop who raised the slightest objection to the royal demand was Cuthbert Tunstall, of Durham. It is obvious that if the famous ‘quantum per Christi legem licet’ was really enforced, the victory which the King’s party had gained was but an empty one: the amendment has been characterized as ‘a clause by which all practical value was taken out of the act[198].’ But Henry certainly had no idea of permitting a restriction as vague as this seriously to interfere with his schemes; if the qualification became really troublesome he was quite prepared to have it expunged. For the moment he had been willing tacitly to acknowledge that there was some force in the clause in order to overcome the obstinacy of his opponents, but Chapuys was certainly not far wrong in saying that it was ‘all the same as far as the King is concerned as if they had made no reservation, for no one will now be so bold as to contest with his lord the importance of this reservation[199].’ The long-deferred pardon was at last granted: though when it was first sent down from the Lords, the Commons discovered that the laity were not mentioned and so were still in the Praemunire: a deputation from the Lower House, however, waited upon the King and expressed their doubts, and though at first Henry treated them harshly, he finally succumbed, and the laity were included in the pardon[200].

But the struggle was not yet over. The following year witnessed a continuation of the attacks on the independence of the clergy. This time, however, Henry and Cromwell had determined that the brunt of the battle should be borne by Parliament, which responded to the mandates of the King and his minister with gratifying celerity. Shortly after the opening of the session, in January, 1532, there appeared in the Lower House that famous document, which is usually known as the ‘Supplication of the Commons against the Ordinaries[201].’ The designation is certainly misleading: so preponderant was the part played by one of the Commons in the preparation of this memorable petition, that it cannot be fairly regarded as the work of them all. The nature of the charges of which the ‘Supplication’ was composed, its phraseology and the handwritings in the various drafts of it which are preserved to us to-day[202] leave little doubt that it was originally devised by the genius of Cromwell. It was in fact the first of a number of measures ostensibly emanating from Parliament, but in reality prepared by the King’s minister and forced by him upon the very tractable Lords and Commons. The purport of the supplication was, in brief, to accuse the clergy of making laws and ordinances without the assent of the King or his lay subjects, of demanding excessive fees, of dealing corruptly and unfairly, especially with cases of heresy, and to request the King to take measures for the remedy of these abuses. The Ordinaries, to whom the petition was delivered from the King on April 12, at once composed a temperate and dignified reply, in which the injustice and unreasonableness of the charges preferred against them were courteously but plainly pointed out[203]. Parliament in the meantime had been prorogued for three months, but as soon as it had reassembled it was forced to take up the cudgels again[204]. The clergy had stated their case so well that Henry, in dread lest the faint-hearted Commons should abandon too soon a quarrel into which his minister had led them, thought it advisable to intervene himself in the dispute. A short interview between the King and the Speaker was enough to reanimate the drooping spirits of the House: Henry was even spared the trouble of a frank avowal of his attitude in words—a gracious promise to be ‘indifferent’ between the disputants was quite sufficient to ensure the continuance of the struggle. The Ordinaries were not slow to discover that their first reply had been totally ineffectual, and hastened to compose a second which, though maintaining in general the position which had originally been assumed, contained a concession that no new laws should be published without the royal consent[205]. A good deal more haggling, however, was necessary before the final compromise was reached[206]. In fact matters moved so slowly that the King was obliged to make (or let Cromwell make for him) another of his suspiciously timely discoveries to the effect that his sovereign rights as Supreme Head were not clear, because every bishop at his consecration had made an oath of allegiance to the Pope. The Commons were asked to rectify this, and were about to pass severe censure on the bishops, when they were prorogued once more on account of the ragings of the plague. Before he let them go, however, the King had probably ascertained that the clergy intended to submit. Threatened on all sides, Convocation on the 16th of May finally agreed not to pass any more new regulations without the King’s licence, and to examine and revise, according to the royal wishes, the canons already made[207]. The most important result of the controversy for us to notice is that the King, acting (as he evidently did) on the advice of Cromwell, had succeeded in reducing Convocation to complete subjugation, and in making Parliament pliant to his will, as it had never been before. The scheme of controlling the clergy is doubly significant, first, as the cause of a great change in itself; second, as the first step of the dominant policy of the next ten years, for establishing the Royal Supremacy in Church and State. It must not be forgotten however that Cromwell’s action, in defiance of Papal authority at this juncture, arose from no hate of the Romish dogmas nor from any love of the new religion. He carried out all his schemes solely from political motives; the religious, the emotional side left him absolutely untouched; the practical, the politically serviceable aspect of the case, alone appealed to him.