CHAPTER XIV

THE FALL OF THOMAS CROMWELL

While Henry and Cromwell had been occupied in negotiations with various German princes, the Emperor and the French King had not been idle. Every day seemed to bring some fresh confirmation of the unwelcome news that the two monarchs were again on the most friendly terms. By the middle of December the anxiety of England reached the highest pitch, for the report came that Francis and Charles had actually met at Loches, and that their first interview had been marked by every demonstration of cordiality[677]. The French King accompanied the Emperor on his journey northward, and on New Year’s Day they entered Paris together amid great rejoicing. For eight days the Louvre saw a succession of balls, fêtes, and jousts. It is said that Jean Cousin was ordered to make a bust of the Emperor[678].

But if the meeting of Charles and Francis and their apparently perfect amity were the cause of profound alarm in England, the proximity of the two rivals furnished at the same time an admirable opportunity for a last attempt to stir up jealousy between them. The King, who as we have seen had never even in his most anxious moments abandoned the hope of fomenting discord between the two sovereigns, was not the man to permit this chance to escape him. Sir Thomas Wyatt, who had been recalled from Spain a short time before, was now sent back to Paris to co-operate with Bonner, the ambassador to France, in the endeavour to make use of the situation for Henry’s purposes[679]. His instructions to express the King’s joy at the prospect of a renewal of amity between Francis and Charles were of course merely a blind to cover his real intentions. It was not long before the character of the latter was made plainly evident. Wyatt wrote a full account of his proceedings to Henry on January 7, 1540[680]. In his letter he did not say whether he paid any attention to the written instructions which the King had previously given him or not, but reported his endeavours to obtain the arrest of one Brancetour, an Englishman in the Emperor’s train, whom the Act of Attainder of 1539 had condemned. From Wyatt’s account, however, it appears that the actual taking of Brancetour was a matter of secondary importance, compared to the possibility it opened of stirring up a quarrel between Francis and Charles. The two ambassadors had waited upon the French King, and had readily obtained his consent to the arrest. Brancetour was taken, but insisted that he acknowledged no master except the Emperor, and was consequently not amenable to English law. He applied to Charles, who of course refused to give his servant up; the matter was again brought before the French King, who, being far more anxious to secure the good will of the Emperor than that of Henry, gave orders for the prisoner’s release. At first it seemed as if the efforts of the two ambassadors had merely resulted in drawing Charles and Francis closer together. Chagrined at the failure of his efforts, Bonner had made matters worse by rudely remonstrating with the French King for permitting Brancetour to be restored to liberty. The chief result of this proceeding was that the English ambassador became so generally hated at the French Court on account of his bluntness and discourtesy, that Henry felt obliged to recall him in favour of Sir John Wallop[681].

With the ground cleared by the retirement of his unpopular colleague, Sir Thomas Wyatt was able to display to far greater advantage that wealth of tact and diplomatic talent, which had rendered him such an invaluable servant to Henry at the Emperor’s Court. He immediately saw that it was useless to blame Francis, as Bonner had done, for an act which the situation had forced upon him, and he forbore to mention the affair of Brancetour again in the presence of the French King. Instead he addressed himself to Charles, and in the most careful and guarded phrases insinuated that the Emperor had shown ingratitude to Henry, in obtaining the Englishman’s release[682]. Wyatt’s action throughout was characterized by an external courtesy quite as remarkable as the previous rudeness of Bonner, and his efforts were finally rewarded in a manner which exceeded the King’s highest expectations. He had caught the Emperor off his guard, and the first result of his representations was to cause the usually imperturbable Charles completely to lose his temper. The Emperor in his vexation let several words escape him, of which Wyatt was prompt to take advantage. When reproached with ingratitude, Charles had turned sharply on the ambassador with a few angry words, which implied that it was impossible for him to be ‘ingrate’ to Henry, on account of the superiority of his own Imperial rank. The Emperor confessed that ‘the inferyour’ might be ‘ingrate to the greter,’ though the term was ‘skant sufferable bytwene lyke[683],’ but hinted that an accusation of ingratitude from the petty King of England against himself, the acknowledged head of Christendom, was entirely out of place. All this was reported at the English Court in early February. The use which Henry made of the information is remarkable. As a result of Wyatt’s communications, the Duke of Norfolk was sent with a special message to Francis[684]. He was ordered to quote all the conversation between Charles and Wyatt, but so to distort the meaning of the Emperor’s angry words as to make it appear that Charles was using Francis’ friendship merely as a stepping-stone to an ulterior purpose, and perhaps to a plan for the domination of Europe. Charles’ unfortunate slip about superiors and inferiors lent itself well to such an interpretation. On February 15 the Duke arrived at the French Court, of which Charles had already taken leave, and was immediately received by Francis[685]. From Norfolk’s own report it is evident that he had at last succeeded in creating serious distrust of the Emperor in the mind of the French King, and he reported to Henry that by Francis’ countenance he ‘dyd conjecte He was not content with thEmperours wordes[686].’

Of course the intrigues of Norfolk and Wyatt were only one of a number of things which contributed to cause the quarrel between Charles and Francis to break out afresh. The ground had been pretty well prepared for it by a series of petty but annoying occurrences, which had taken place during the Emperor’s visit[687], and the efforts of the English ambassadors were substantially aided by Charles’ flat refusal to fulfil his promises to Francis about the Low Countries and Milan, after the subjugation of the revolt in Ghent had once more left him a free hand. But the part which England played in accelerating the rupture was in itself by no means inconsiderable, and it is of the most vital importance for our purposes here, to notice that the name of Cromwell scarcely appears once in connexion with it. It is true that after Norfolk had succeeded in driving in the first wedge which started the breach between Charles and Francis, the King’s minister wrote two letters to Wallop[688], directing him to follow up the advantage already gained, but they were evidently dictated by Henry, and seem to have been a necessity forced upon Cromwell by the action of his rival. The fact was that Cromwell’s identification with the German alliance had cut him off from bearing a hand in any other part of the foreign policy, and that his place as a negotiator with France and Spain had been usurped by his bitterest enemy, the Duke of Norfolk. The latter’s success at the French Court had proved that the policy to which the King had always pinned his faith, in opposition to Cromwell’s advocacy of an outside alliance, had not lost all its efficacy, and the rapidly widening breach between Charles and Francis showed that the league with Cleves was not indispensable for England’s safety. More than this, it now looked as if the treaty with Duke William, far from being an advantage, would become a positive burden. Cromwell had sought the alliance in the hope of gaining valuable aid in case England was attacked: it had not occurred to him that some day the positions might be reversed, and that England might be expected to give aid, rather than to receive it. The fact that Charles, instead of planning an invasion of England with Francis, had gone straight from Paris to the Low Countries[689] and did not disguise his intention of regaining Gelderland, rendered this disagreeable turn of affairs distinctly probable. Worst of all, the King’s disgust for Anne of Cleves had increased so rapidly, that it was useless to attempt to conceal it. Henry might pardon a political blunder alone, but when combined with a matrimonial misfortune, it was more difficult to forgive. Everything seemed to unite to call for a reversal of the Cromwellian policy. The King’s minister had abandoned as hopeless a scheme which his rival had been able to show was still feasible; he had sought a cure before he was certain that prevention was impossible: the cure he had prescribed, besides being unnecessary, had actually proved dangerous, and lastly, the matrimonial alliance which formed the basis of it had turned out a complete failure.

It was certainly the most favourable opportunity that had yet presented itself for Cromwell’s enemies to compass his ruin, and Norfolk and Gardiner, the most inveterate of his foes, were not slow to realize it. The latter, ever since his recall from France in 1538, had used every effort to undermine the influence of the man who had stepped into the place which he had coveted for himself at Wolsey’s fall. In alliance with Norfolk, who returned from his errand to the French King in March, 1540, he now succeeded in gathering to himself all the influential persons at the English Court who desired the downfall of their plebeian rival. It did not take very long to discover that Henry was ready to abandon Cromwell, and as soon as his enemies were certain of this fact, they saw that all that was necessary for the accomplishment of their designs was to devise a pretext for the minister’s destruction, more plausible than an accusation of advocating a useless alliance and an unfortunate marriage. So faithfully had Cromwell served the King’s interests, however, that at first it seemed almost impossible to find such a pretext, but the astute Gardiner was soon able to discover the one weak spot in his rival’s armour. It is hardly necessary to state what this was. The only occasions on which Henry and Cromwell had been brought into collision were disputes over questions of foreign policy, and the Bishop of Winchester saw that the minister’s reputation as advocate of an alliance with the Lutherans in opposition to the King’s wishes, furnished the basis for a charge of supporting their religious principles in defiance of the doctrines proclaimed in the Six Articles. No accusation against Cromwell could have been more unjust than this. We have seen that the minister himself had abandoned the Lutherans by this time; moreover even in the days when he had urged an alliance with them, he had never made the least concession to their religious tendencies. We call to mind at once the significant words that he had spoken to Baumbach in the previous January, when he had declared that his theological beliefs were identical with those of the King. Cromwell’s religion had always been dictated by political expediency; he certainly had no sympathy for Protestant theology in itself, or indeed for theology of any kind which did not lead to practical results. But unfortunately the mass of the people were totally unable to see this fact, and he was commonly looked upon as the greatest friend and helper that the Protestants had. As opposition to the Pope had given him his political greatness, the Reformers had flocked to him for protection when the Six Articles were passed, and their trust in him was further strengthened by the inferences which they drew from his foreign policy. The Bishop of Winchester was perfectly well aware of the actual state of affairs, and also of the gross misconception of Cromwell’s true theological position which existed in the minds of the people. If he could only catch his rival in some definite act which would justify a distinct accusation of opposing the King in matters of religion, he saw that the ground was already well prepared for the success of his plot. The opportunity which he sought was soon to present itself.

It will be remembered that in the early part of the year 1539 Henry had sent Dr. Barnes to Germany to conciliate the King of Denmark and the Elector of Saxony. At the news of the passage of the Six Articles, which of course stultified all his efforts, Barnes had come back to England, profoundly disgusted at the King’s vacillating policy. Henry felt so certain of his ground at the time of his ambassador’s return, that in spite of the requests of Cromwell, he contemptuously refused to grant him a hearing[690]. The King’s minister was either unable or unwilling to take the hint, which his master had given him, that Barnes was no longer in favour, and he was rash enough to attempt to console the envoy for the ill-success of his mission, by promoting him to the prebend of Lanbedye[691]. Cromwell had thus played into his enemy’s hand by an action which lent itself to the precise interpretation which Gardiner was seeking. It was now an easy matter to hold the minister responsible for any rash act which his protégé might commit, and Barnes, who was one of the very extreme Lutherans, did not take long to fulfil the hopes which the Bishop of Winchester had entertained of his recklessness. He was foolish enough to take violent exception to a sermon which Gardiner had preached at Paul’s Cross, in which the latter had denounced certain Protestant doctrines. Preaching in the same pulpit two weeks later on the same text, Barnes denied all that Gardiner had said, insulted him openly, and finally threw down his glove to the people, as a defiance against the Bishop[692]. Barnes had doubtless presumed on Cromwell’s protection to support him in this tirade, for it seems that the year before, when his position had been much stronger, the King’s minister had successfully defended his friend against a charge of heresy by Gardiner, and had actually been able to remove the latter from the Privy Council in revenge for his attack on the Lutheran[693]. But this time Barnes had gone too far, and Cromwell, whose influence was by no means what it had been, was unable to save him again. The Bishop of Winchester complained to the King, who was scandalized, and ordered Barnes to be examined before him; the Lutheran was utterly worsted in a theological discussion; he was forced to recant and beg Gardiner’s pardon. This he did with such ill grace and so many contradictions that he was arrested and placed in the Tower with the others who had supported him.