The day labourer received what was equivalent to something near twenty shillings a week, the wages at present paid in English colonies; and this is far from being a full account of his advantages. The agricultural labourer held land in connection with his house, while in most parishes there were large ranges of common and unenclosed forest land, which furnished fuel to him gratis, where pigs might range, and ducks and geese, and where, if he could afford a cow, he was in no danger of being unable to feed it; and so important was this privilege considered, that when the commons began to be largely enclosed, Parliament insisted that the working man should not be without some piece of ground on which he could employ his own and his family's industry.
By the 7th of the 31st of Elizabeth it was ordered that no cottage should be built for residence without four acres of land at lowest being attached to it for the sole use of the occupants of such cottage.
The incomes of the great nobles cannot be determined for they varied probably as much as they do now. Under Henry IV. the average income of an earl was estimated at £2,000 a year. Under Henry VIII. the great Duke of Buckingham, the wealthiest English peer, had £6,000. And the income of the Archbishop of Canterbury was rated at the same amount. But the establishments of such men were enormous. Their retinues in time of peace consisted of several hundred persons, and in time of war a large share of the expenses was paid often out of private purses.
Passing down to the body of the people, we find that £20 a year and heavy duties to do for it, represented the condition of the squire of the parish. By the 2nd of Henry V. "the wages" of a parish priest were limited to £5 6s. 8d., except in cases where there was a special license from the bishop, when they might be raised as high as £6. Both squire and priest had sufficient for comfort. Neither was able to establish any steep difference between himself and the commons among whom he lived, so far as concerned outward advantages.
The habits of all classes were free, open, and liberal. In frank style the people lived in "merry England," displaying the "glory of hospitality," England's pre-eminent boast, by the rules according to which all tables were open to all comers without reserve. To every man, according to his degree, who chose to ask for it, there was free fare and free lodging. The people hated three things with all their hearts--idleness, want, and cowardice.
A change, however, was coming upon the world, the meaning and direction of which even still is hidden from us, a change from era to era. Chivalry was dying; the abbey and castle were soon together to crumble into ruins; and all the forms, desires, beliefs, and convictions of the old world were passing away never to return. A new continent had arisen beyond the western sea. The floor of heaven, inlaid with stars, had sunk back into an infinite abyss of immeasurable space; and the firm earth itself, unfixed from its foundations, was seen to be but a small atom in the awful vastness of the universe. In the fabric of habit which they had so laboriously built for themselves mankind were to remain no longer.
II.--The Fall of Wolsey's Policy
Times were changed in England since the second Henry walked barefoot through the streets of Canterbury, and knelt while the monks flogged him on the pavement in the Chapter House, doing penance for Becket's murder. The clergy had won the battle in the twelfth century because they deserved it. They were not free from fault and weakness, but they felt the meaning of their profession. Their hearts were in their vows, their authority was exercised more justly, more nobly, than the authority of the crown; and therefore, with inevitable justice, the crown was compelled to stoop before them.
The victory was great, but, like many victories, it was fatal to the conquerors. It filled them with the vanity of power; they forgot their duties in their privileges, and when, a century later, the conflict recommenced, the altering issue proved the altering nature of the conditions under which it was fought. The nation was ready for sweeping remedies. The people felt little loyalty to the pope. The clergy pursued their course to its end. They sank steadily into that condition which is inevitable from the constitution of human nature, among men without faith, wealthy, powerful, and luxuriously fed, yet condemned to celibacy and cut off from the common duties and common pleasures of ordinary life.
Many priests spent their time in hawking or hunting, in lounging at taverns, in the dissolute enjoyment of the world. If, however, there were no longer saints among the clergy, there could still arise among them a remarkable man. In Cardinal Wolsey the king found an adviser who was essentially a transition minister, holding a middle place between an English statesman and a Catholic of the old order. Under Wolsey's influence, Henry made war with Louis of France in the pope's quarrel, entered the polemic lists with Luther, and persecuted the English Protestants.